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#Steel Dehydrator
canningsupplies · 7 months
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Explore The Advantages Of Steel Dehydrators
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Experience a new era in food dehydration with steel dehydrators! Unrivaled unmatched durability, hygiene, and efficiency. Swift dehydration, energy savings, and easy maintenance redefine convenience. Ready to upgrade? Explore the advantages of a stainless steel dehydrator now and download our exclusive infographic for an in-depth guide. Elevate your kitchen—click, explore, and transform!
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reganpink · 10 months
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I really liked drawing johnny lmao.
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firewoodfigs · 10 months
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kohisama03 · 9 days
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you will see great deal!
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minimac-mspl · 1 month
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Can all contaminants be seen with naked eyes?
As a part 2 of #knowyouroil series, we will discuss about Particle Contamination. Whenever we talk about contamination the first thing that comes to our mind is solid particles that we can see or feel. But what we do not understand is how big a particle can really cause wear and tear to your machines, can all contaminants be seen with naked eyes? Is it too late to wait until then?
To answer the above questions we must first understand the actual clearance size of the different types of lubrication film formed between rolling> and rotating components which is essential for providing proper lubrication. Oil film thickness in machinery is measured in microns (µm), or one-millionth of a meter.
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The contaminants that are considered to be most damaged are from size 2 to 20 µm and avoiding these are key to keeping your machinery breakdown free.>
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Get your machine's oil check today with our technical expert call +91 7030901266. Ask for a brochure today. We at Minimac System Pvt. Ltd. not only design a maintenance schedule for your lubrication oil but also provide OIL TESTING and FILTRATION services and the filtered oil complies to the ISO standard of Super Clean oil as we stand for MINImum MAChinery Maintenance.
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luxolin · 1 year
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Genuinely why don't movies have intermissions if they're going to be over 3 hours?? You cannot tell me that the pacing of Avatar 2 would be irrevocably damaged by giving viewers a chance to go to the bathroom and refill their drinkie
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cryptotheism · 1 year
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She awoke to a boxcar full of corpses,
which was damn lucky, because it meant she now had a one-way train ticket to exactly where she wanted to go. All that was left to do was pass the time.
The student took inventory of her body. It was the first thing she knew to do in case of catastrophic injury, but the ritual of it was almost meditative now. Start at the bottom, work your way up.
Feet: Sore from walking. The leathery sheathe of mutagenic skin that ran up to her shins was largely unfeeling scar tissue at this point. They looked and functioned like a pair of high-topped hiking boots, except permanent and a part of her body. They were a rough custom job, designed for traversing the pools of acid that dotted the necrotic swamps common to her homeland. Home. Not much left of home now. She was getting sidetracked.
Legs: Also sore from walking, but less so. The musculature was hers, but the skeleton was reinforced with carbon-steel after a fall when she was little. Shock absorbing hydraulic femurs were nice for someone who did as much walking as she did. Skin was necrotizing again. Gotta get that replaced. Maybe one of the corpses is fresh enough to provide a graft.
Pelvis: Mercifully unfeeling. The surveyor had grabbed her by the hips. Skeleton was completely replaced a long time ago, but she could feel a hitch in the joint of her left leg whenever she moved it just so. An easy fix but time consuming, and not the sort of work to be done on a moving train. No necrotization here, at this point it was all synthetic. Uterus was completely original, not that it meant much. The little bundle of braided tubes that assisted her endocrine system remained stapled to her skin. The jangling was annoying, kept getting stuck on her hatchet, thus, staples. Fluids were looking a little dark, she must be dehydrated.
Torso: Felt fine, aside from the strain on her spine from carrying her things. Even with the augments, spines in general were just poorly constructed. Flesh was scarred, lots of burns, but mostly original. Both clavicles were removed and replaced with cargo sockets. She rolled her shoulders, it seemed like everything was working well. Breasts and sternum had been removed too, replaced with subdermal bulletproofing. She had spent extra for the good stuff there. One solid hand-ground piece of sloped armor. Getting shot in the lung was a lesson you only needed to learn once. Heart was completely mechanical. She even had a backup in her bag just in case. She traded the old lung and the breast tissue for that.
Right Arm: She rolled back the sleeve of her heavy coat and stretched her arm, watching the little electric motors dance. It was strong and dexterous, with half a dozen small tools built into the length of her forearm. No need for skin. In a pinch she could perform everything from network intrusion to basic surgery. Most of it was covered by the sleeve of her heavy coat. The amputation was above the elbow. She had leased her original arm for the current mechanical one when she was working on the pit crew for for an order of knights. She ended up keeping the arm.
Left Arm: She liked her left arm. She was proud of it. The trademark of a sythetimancer. It was pretty. Biological and mechanical features blending seamlessly together. Coils of veins and circuitry making intricate braids up her arm terminating in perfect Fibonacci spirals. Softly bioluminescent blood, filaments formed from calcified nerve tissue, synapse clusters under crystal clear de-pigmented bulbs of alpha-keratin. She concentrated for a moment, allowing the whirls on her palm to twist and readjust themselves with a tingling sensation. Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, all recombining into butane. She snapped her fingers, igniting a tiny flame, letting it dance along her fingers for a few moments burning and repairing the flesh as she went, spirals parting and coalescing like leaves navigating the twain of a gentle river. They looked like the little shell fossils she found at the white desert when she was little. Memories. Loss.
The spirals in her hand began to twist and pulse, little corkscrews of bone began to form, growing outwards against the thin layer of biosynthetic skin. It hurt. She winced, and regained control a moment later. Careless. She shook her arm, and the flame on her finger went out.
Head: Still a bit hazy from the pain. Where to start with the head? Neck. Parched. Currently being warmed by a scarf with a length of handmade maille hidden in the folds. Rebreather was working well because it was made well. It was made well because she made it. She made it because it used to be her job. Like everyone of her strain, she had no teeth, only two solid ridges of tough bone, largely blunt and made for gnashing but gradually coalescing into a single triangular point, evolved for ripping flesh. She clacked her jaws together experimentally. Clack. Clack.
Eyes were tired and dry. There was a short mechanical hiss and a snap as she the shields over her eyes retracted back into their sockets in her cheekbones. The only light was from a pair of grates in the ceiling, but the glare nearly blinded her. She snapped the shields back into place, and the heads up display came slowly back into focus.
Originally her skin was the sort of rust color common to her strain. By now it was a deep weather-worn red, except for the parts that were charred black and rotting. Gotta replace that. If she could grow hair, she had done a damn good job of making sure it was thoroughly singed off. It occurred to her that it might be fun to have hair one day. Maybe she could make it herself. Would it grow in spirals? She looked down to open the bag of genebending tools at her waist, and her heart jumped into her goddamn throat.
Staring up at her from the pile of corpses was a pair of bright red eyes on an unnaturally pale face with no nose or lips. Which would not be terribly upsetting or surprising, had it not just said “well met” in an oddly pleasant female voice, attempt to sit up, fail, and then ask politely if its new acquaintance would stop sitting on it.
This is the first chapter of Amber Skies. The complete story can be read here, along with its currently-in-progress sequel, Emerald Seas.
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shopliance013 · 2 years
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Food Dehydrator with 10 Trays Stainless Steel
Material: Stainless steel
Power: 220 – 240 V, 50 Hz, 1000 W
Dimensions: 43.5 x 39 x 51.5 cm (L x W x H)
Touch control panel
Timer function: 1 – 15 h
With 7 choosable temperature settings from 35 °C to 68 °C
With 10 metal trays
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ghoulgalore · 9 days
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mmm can we do: “Open your mouth,” before spitting into it. With ghoul x reader?
18+ ghoul x reader. you have a mighty bounty on your head with an order to be returned alive, but that doesn't mean your captor can't have a little fun with you along the way. kidnapping, deprivation, bribery, folks getting horny over water.
Fucked.
You're so completely fucked.
The worst of it all was that you'd been so close to making it out. You'd gotten far enough that you'd paid your weight in stolen caps to get safe passage away from your dead end life. You didn't have a cent left to your name when he found you.
The Ghoul.
Running didn't get you far. You couldn't bribe him. Begging only made him laugh.
He's got you bound thoroughly in coarse lithe rope. Your hands are clasped over your chest as if in prayer, and your elbows are tucked snugly to your ribs. The rope job makes for an excellent harness, and he hasn't been shy about yanking you by it.
It's been almost two days of this slog back towards the shithole you fled from. You fought hard at first, mouthing off at every opportunity, but the heat has worn you ragged, and this son of a bitch hasn't given you so much as a drop of water.
You collapse to your knees. Your throat is so dry, even breathing hurts.
"Trust me when I say you do not want me t'drag you the rest of the way, darlin'," he tells you, giving the rope a jerk. You barely manage not to fall flat on your face.
"At this rate you'll be dragging a corpse," you hiss, voice hoarse. "I need water."
The earth crunches beneath his boots as he approaches, crouching down near you. Roughly, he grabs hold of your chin, tilting your head up to look you over. He pinches your cheek with a thoughtful hum.
"Yeah, y'might just be right. Awfully dehydrated," he muses. You could swear he's enjoying your slow decline.
"Water," you repeat tersely.
"Y'know, for such a sweet face, you're a real sourpuss," he says, drawing his canteen from his satchel. You swallow dryly, too thirsty to even salivate. "I haven't heard a single 'please' outta that mouth of yours."
"I'm not going to beg for the life you're selling," you spit right back. This is the closest he's been to you since your capture. If you could gather wetness enough on your tongue, you'd be weighing the pros and cons of spitting that in his face instead.
He chuckles, unscrewing the lid. You can already smell the wetness of it. Your jaw aches. "Y'got chutzpah, I'll give y'that."
You lean forward, opening your mouth instinctively when he lifts the canteen. Please, please, please, please...
The Ghoul brings the canteen to his own gnarled lips, holding your gaze as he gulps once, twice, three times before drawing away with a satisfied aahh, humming like it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted. Your heart falls into your stomach.
"Oh," he says, looking from your dejected expressing to the canteen and back. "I'm sorry, did you want some?"
"You son of a-" you start, but he interrupts you with a sharp yank of the rope.
"Ah, ah. I've had just about enough of hearin' your gutter mouth," he says, but he doesn't sound it. His smile is downright chuffed. "Now, if you want so much as a drop of this, y'gonna say please."
You grit your teeth. Your pride is all you have left in this world, and apparently this motherfucker is determined to take that away, too. Your gaze drops to his mouth, where a rivulet of water rolls out from the corner. You're so desperate you almost lurch forward to lick the drop before it drips from his chin.
Steeling yourself, you drag your eyes back up to his. "Please," you say tightly.
The corner of his smile tics upwards. "Please what?"
You inhale a steadying breath. "Can I please have water?"
"That's much better," he says, lifting the canteen once more. "Open your mouth."
With a flood of tentative relief, still wary of his sincerity, you tip your head back and do as you're told, ignoring the wicked flicker of pleasure you see light in his black eyes.
"Now, if y'want a sip, keep that mouth open," he says, taking a long swig from the canteen. You stare in disbelief, beginning to protest, but he holds up a single gloved finger to silence you, humming sharply.
He swishes the water loudly in his mouth, and understanding dawns on you. Heat that rivals the arid desert sweeps through you in a hot rush of humiliation, but you refuse to let him see it. You refuse to back down.
Steadily, you open your mouth once again, chin jutting out defiantly.
He quirks a hairless brow beneath his hat, rolling the water from one side of his mouth to the other, as if daring you.
You push your tongue out, expression expectant.
He grabs hold of your chin and yanks you forward, fountaining the water into your open mouth, spitting to finish it off. You choke it down, trying not to cough for the amount of it that hit the back of your throat, your head hanging forward.
It feels like bliss on your tongue, soothing the burning dryness, but the relief of it is gone far too soon. You could easily guzzle a full bottle to yourself.
It's not enough.
After a beat, you lift your head, mouth once again open, tongue pushed forward.
The Ghoul laughs. You can feel his breath on what little moisture is left on your lips.
"Well now, don't you paint a pretty picture," he says, catching your chin in his grip again, pulling you forward. Resolutely, you keep your mouth open, waiting. His eyes flicker down to the sight of it, darkening. He licks his own lips as if he's the one deprived.
"Maybe you're worth the caps they're payin' for you after all," he says, drinking from the canteen. He moves even closer this time, tilting your head all the way back. His lips nearly brush yours while the water spills into your mouth.
You swallow it back greedily, little noises leaving your throat unbidden for the sheer relief of it. You swear you can feel the water rushing to your temples, soothing your pounding headache.
His thumb moves up your chin, collecting water you'd dribbled in your haste. He pushes it up over your bottom lip and into your mouth. Without thinking, you close your lips around the intrusion and suck, greedy for every last drop. His hold on you tenses.
You meet his gaze and in it you see dark prowling hunger. How much of his predator nature is he holding back right now? Would he sacrifice the caps if he thought you looked good enough to eat?
"Thanks," you say, voice little more than a rasp.
His jaw shifts like he's biting his tongue, and then he screws the lid back onto his canteen, hauling you up with him as he stands. He's rough with you, but not overly so.
If beggin' and cussin' don't work on the big bad Ghoul, you suppose you've got nothing to lose in trying to use good ol' fashioned manners to wriggle your way out of this.
Ghoul or not, what you just witnessed was a man's hunger, and that's something you can work with.
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canningsupplies · 7 months
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Exploring The Health Benefits Of Dehydrated Fruits From A Stainless Steel Dehydrator
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atzfilm · 1 year
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— the most lonely creature (m)
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〰️ pairing; k.yeosang/f.reader
〰️ word count; [35.9k]
〰️ genre; dragon serpent!au, water god, fantasy
〰️ summary; finding a yeouiju in the forest brings terrors unlike you've ever seen– in the shape of a water god
〰️ warnings under cut
content; use of explicit language, mythology (not completely accurate), smut, mate mentions, injuries, Blood, Strong Language, cursing, dehydration, anxiety, age gap, double penetration, marking 
-
You brush off your sleeve, glaring at the tree that prickled the fabric. You stretch your shirt slightly, seeing the small, dime-sized hole it left. Your friend insisted that this material was high quality, the best of the best. But from that small hole from a branch, you wonder if he only thought this because he saw it in one of those buy-it-or-you’ll-lose-the-discount commercials. You roll your eyes, giving the branch another pointed look before continuing your climb.
You love the outdoors. The soft breeze that flows through the air, the sounds of the animals and insects speaking to one another. Sometimes you'd see a deer dash through the thick brush, too quick for you to admire its beauty. The fresh air that you adore; better than the city, filled with noises of angry people and an odd odor that never seemed to fade. You breathe in and out slowly, sweat coating your forehead.
Your former coworkers always wondered why you loved being in the mountains by yourself, instead of in the office with everyone else, slaving over a desktop and complaining about the cheap coffee. But what can you say? Maybe listening to them whine about the broken air-conditioner for what had to be the hundredth time finally struck a nerve. And who wouldn't want to be outdoors? The sounds of nature are all you listened to. And nothing could be better than that.
After about an hour of hiking, you spot a coursing river. You raise a brow. A river? This high? You stumble along the rocks and sit by its side, watching as the clear water flows over the rocks and misses easily, disappearing down the steel tilt of the mountain. You reach down, letting the clear water roll along your skin, a small dent in the ever flowing current.
It feels almost oddly lukewarm, a bit like a hot spring. It's strange. You glance up, the sun beaming down on your surroundings. Could it be that? Your eyes move over to the opposite side of the river, a glowing light catching your eye.
You glance at the river, large rocks making a strangely perfect path across the water. You debate in your head whether to ignore the shiny object in the distance, or take the risk to cross the water. It doesn't even look too deep if you slipped. You bite your lip, before deciding. You toss your bag over your shoulder tightly before taking the first step on to the rocks. Your hiking boots aren't cheap, but they're made for tougher terrain so you assume that they would work easily on this surface.
You slowly cross, making sure you're fully stable before moving on to the next one. It's a lengthy process, hands trembling as you finally toss yourself into the small pile of leaves on the bank of the river, cushioning your fall. After taking a few seconds to breathe, you dust off your clothes and look at the object you couldn't help but feel drawn to. You crouch town, pushing the grass away.
It looks almost like a large pearl, a bit dusty and covered in grime. But as you wipe it away with your fingers, the shine peaks through, its outer layer egg white. You pick it up, surprised at how lightweight it is. It has to be less than two pounds, but with its size you'd assume it would be much heavier. Nothing scratched your interest on what it is, and the only person that comes to mind is your old office buddy.
Wooyoung. Wooyoung would know what this is.
You opened your bag, lightly pushing it between your belongings before standing up. The sun's beginning to set, and you'd rather not be out here, not when you're not the best hiker. You glance at the spot once more, before walking back the way you came.
-
You walk through your door, tossing your bag into the mud room and kicking your shoes off. You send little kisses to your fish before walking into the kitchen, pouring water into the pot and placing it on the stove.
"Oh shit the Pearl," You run back, looking through your bag and seeing it shine at you. You wash it off in the kitchen, then place it next to the window by your door. It glows softly in the low sunlight. You stare at it for a bit, before dialing your person.
He picks up after only one ring.
"It's almost 6pm so it's not late enough for a booty call," is the first thing he says. He's sitting in his office, knickknacks piled on shelves behind him.
Jung Wooyoung. The bravest man alive, at least in your book. When you were an intern at your editing company, he was one of your superiors. Compared to everyone else he was much more mellow, not caring much about deadlines and always encouraging the people underneath him to take their time with assignments. It didn't bring much favor to him whenever all the departments had meetings, but he always had excellent reviews from the authors. And that made the management hate Wooyoung just as much as they loved him.
Once you were transferred to Wooyoung's department, a soft hello and a tasty coffee made you both best friends. You were inseparable; assignments were given to you and he always stayed by your side to joke about his team or to laugh at the typos some authors did. Every moment spent with him was amazing, and if you were honest with yourself, you did have a little crush on him. At least until he told you that he didn't really imagine himself with someone. That he loved artifacts and stories more than people. It’s more of a fondness now than anything else.
But that day. The day that Jung Wooyoung poured coffee on your department manager. The day that Jung Wooyoung leaped out of your office, high speed and was followed by what had to be dozens of security guards. The day that Jung Wooyoung decided to quit editing and to be a historian, searching for artifacts and educating people when necessary.
And damn he is good at it. You know how smart he is, but never in your life did you think he'd open his own shop in the city and be one of your wealthiest friends within a span of years. Him leaving your office is probably the reason why you wanted to work at home. He's bold enough to go for his dreams, and you felt that too.
"I'm not calling you for a booty call, idiot," You snort, and he laughs. "What's up? How's it going?"
"Ah, you know the usual. Rich men walking in with their trophy wives and wanting to buy one of my babies for way less than it's valued. And then the wives pout and he puts out some extra cash to buy it," he frowns as he looks at his papers. "Did I tell you how much I hate millionaires? All they do is take money and sleep with it."
"Aren't you a millionaire?" You say through a soft smile.
He nods. "My point exactly."
He grabs something off the shelf behind him, before showing it to you. "Hyung came into my shop the other day and said he found this letter from the twelfth century. It's a love letter," Wooyoung traces the words delicately. "It's a bit cheesy, I think you'd like it."
"Yunho really came into your shop to give you a letter? How much did you give him for it?"
Wooyoung sighs. "Nothing. All he wanted was a date."
"That's cute," You laugh, and Wooyoung rolls his eyes.
"It would be, if I didn't say yes."
You blink. Yes? He said yes? You try to keep your face as straight as possible, his eyes moving to the camera. You don't notice the longing in them, they want to hear you protest and say that no, you don't think that going on that date is okay. But all you do is smile, and nod.
"I think you deserve a date, Woo. You've been cooped up in that shop for so long, time to explore the outside world," You move your face closer to the screen. "And from what I can see, you probably haven't showered in days."
"Ah, you're not my Mom," He sighs. "Why did you want to call me anyway? Just to make fun of me?"
You bring your phone with you, flipping the camera to the back one. Your stone sits in the same spot, no longer glowing like before. Wooyoung leans closer to the screen as you align the camera.
"I was hiking and found this thing in the underbrush. I wiped it off a bit 'cause it was dirty but I have no clue what it is?" You say the last bit as a question.
Wooyoung stares at it, his head cocked to the side slightly. He pouts a bit, and you hold back your aww's, knowing he loves being called cute a bit too much. He'd probably go on about it for a week.
"Is it heavy?"
"Nope," You reply. "Can't be more than a few pounds, give or take."
"What kind of color is it? I know it's white, but is it more pink-white or a yellow-white?"
You move the camera out of the way, squinting your eyes at it. "Probably more yellow-white? A bit darker than an egg."
"I can't really tell from this camera to be honest. It can't be a pearl, because it's too big. Almost like the size of a fist. And it isn't heavy either. Would you mind if I came over to your house tomorrow? I'll probably see it better that way."
You flip the camera back to your face. "Will I ever say no to a visit from my favorite person in this universe?" You say, "And I can finally give you your nasty underwear that's been here for way too long. I'm tired of staring at them in my drawer."
"Are they... in your underwear drawer?"
You glare at the screen. "How old are you again, dirty old man? I'm hanging up, see you at twelve!"
He opens his mouth but you've already ended the call, tossing your phone on the counter. You wince as it slides all the way off, the loud drop echoing around your small home. You glance over to make sure it's safe, before walking around it, throwing yourself dramatically on the couch and letting out a sigh.
Your eyes travel back to the strange orb-like thing, sitting next to the window. Whatever it is, you know it's only a reason to not work on the next editing of your client's story. You love the story, actually. Filled with more sci-fi elements than you could think of. You're sure that she's going to become the next James something one day. But goodness, the angst. You needed breaks in between or else you'd be sobbing over a bowl of ice cream, questioning your life choices and wondering if you'd ever find someone that loved you as much.
You push those thoughts away, running your fingers through your hair slowly. Tomorrow's a long day.
-
A knock on the door makes you put your coffee to the side, eyes flicking to the window next to your door. Wooyoung stands there, waving his arms frantically. You grin at him, hopping off the stool and opening the door. He immediately walks in without even saying a good morning. At least he kicks his shoes to the side, walking around the small hallways until his eyes land on the sphere next to your window.
He leans forward, poking it lightly with his finger. "This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," he mumbles, rubbing it with his thumb. "Where did you find this again?"
"Next to the river in the mountains about an hour out from here. I thought I was an egg from an ostrich or something-” He gives you a deadpanned look at that comment- “But it doesn’t sound like anything is inside. It’s not hollow, which is weird because if not-”
“Then this thing would have to weigh at least ten pounds,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Do you mind if I pick it up?”
“Be my guest,” you say, gesturing to it. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Just don’t make too much of a mess, yeah? We both know how you get around new things.” A literal mind boner, you think, walking back into the kitchen.
You listen to him play around with it, mumbling his thoughts to himself as you sip your coffee. After about twenty-ish minutes, he runs back into the kitchen, flopping himself on the stool across from you.
“You have to take me to where you found it!” He says, giddy in his chair. You purse your lips, shaking your head.
“I don’t think I want to go back there,” You mumble, taking another sip. “It’s a bit of a ways away. And my legs are sore from yesterday. Plus, I barely edited today and it’s due in two weeks.” You complain, and he scoffs.
“You told me about this thing, and you don’t even want to show me where you got it from? How could you?” He pouts, hand over his chest as he glares at you.
“Wooyoung, you don’t even have hiking-”
“All of it is in the car. I always come prepared,” He says, and winks. “In any situation.”
“You’re disgusting,,” You tease, and he laughs. “Alright, we can do it. But for crying out loud, if you scream at a bee we’re going to turn right around and come back. I’m serious, Woo.”
He frowns. “I am not scared of bees, y/n.”
You raise a brow. “We’ll see.”
-
“Fuck, did you see that?”
“It was a fly, Woo, a fly.”
He laughs nervously, “Ah, I was just testing you.”
You two climb slowly, Wooyoung not far behind you. He jumped a bit at various things, but oddly didn’t at snakes mating. Instead he watched, until you called him a creep and he walked away. You’re almost at the spot where you found it, the sound of running water and the smell seeping into your nose. You glance back at him to make sure he’s close behind, before pushing past some leaves and overgrown plants to reveal the beautiful river.
It’s a bit drier now, but it seems to glow slightly when you enter, as if to give you a soft Welcome. You stand there for a moment, hands resting on your chest as you admire the water. It’s clear enough to see the bottom, various species of sea life swimming through, oblivious to this outside world. Wooyoung finally makes it next to you, breathing heavily.
He opens his mouth to complain, but his eyes widen at the scenery, looking at you. You smile softly at your surroundings, lost in your own thoughts. He doesn’t dare interrupt; he loves seeing you like this the most. You take a couple more moments to breathe in the fresh air before turning to him.
“You see those stepping stones in the middle?” He nods. “That’s what I used to get across. It was close to the bank of the river, hiding a bit in the mud.”
“Interesting,” he begins walking to the stepping stones, and you follow close behind. Just because he knows about these artifacts doesn’t mean he knows nature; he spends more time in his office than the sun.
"Be careful-" You utter, watching as his shoes slip slightly on the pebbles. He looks back at you. His purse is tight around his waist, hair pulled into a small bun on the top of his head. He sticks his tongue at you.
"Real mature," You mumble, and he laughs. You don't notice how close his left foot is to the water, his grip on the rocks slipping. He looks back at you in panic before falling back into the water.
"Wooyoung!" You yell, reaching out and grabbing him by a strap on his travel bag.
He lurks forward, and you reach onto one of the big stones. The rock digs into your fingers and you curse to yourself, grinding your teeth as you try to hold onto him and yourself. But the river...
It has other ideas.
The current picks up immediately, flinging you back from the rocks you desperately held onto. Wooyoung struggles to grab something, anything in his grasp, but the branches are too far away from him. You turn around, your head bobbing up and down from the depths as you try to think of a way to get out. But your feet don't even touch the bottom, and you feel the panic begin to rise in your chest.
"Fuck, I'm sorry y/n, I wish that there was someway we could get out of this-!"
You turn your head, spotting a stump not too far from where you two are. With all the strength you can muster, you yank him through the water. You wrap your arm around the stump, Wooyoung holding on tight as well. You both catch a breath, before he begins to laugh.
Your anger subsides, and you giggle with him as well. "Fuck you! We could've died!" You yell, splashing water at him.
He chuckles slowly as the two of you make your way back to dry land. "You didn't tell me how slippery it was. I could've died!" He jokes.
"Keep talking like that and I'll throw you back in there, idiot." You grumble.
The two of you finally make it to shore, breathing heavily. He flops on his back,chest rising and falling. You lay next to him, your hair slapping against your cheek. You two don't say anything for a moment, heart still pumping at the rise of adrenaline. You glance back at the log, watching as it detached itself from its spot and continued down the river, falling over the incline and from your sight. It was a miracle; it suddenly appeared as you turned your head. You were sure the both of you were done for; but you suppose that that's how life works.
Wooyoung leans up, picking leaves off his clothing. He looks at you, "Hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying close enough attention-"
You wave him off. "As long as we're alive, you don't have to say sorry. Now, if we both fell and I had to walk with your sorry ass to the gates of Hell, we would've had some issues."
"Hell?" He frowns. "I'm too good for that."
"You saying that brought you a little bit closer to burning for eternity."
You two continue to tease one another as you walk back down the mountain, the small orb of yours still tucked safely in your bag. Through the laughs and pushes, you notice Wooyoung wince. You look down, a slash on his left forearm, bleeding profusely. After much protest from him, once you get down the mountain you insist on bringing him to the hospital. Even though he whines for a bit, you call Yunho; the one person you can count on to bring him there in one piece.
He picks up after the first ring.
"Papa's pizzeria, delivery or pickup?" Yunho asks, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. These two idiots are plucked from the same tree.
"Woo is hurt and I need you to take him to the hospital," You hear him stumble over something in the background, and your frown deepens. Maybe you'll just bring him yourself? You already have to deal with enough as it is, and if you're being honest with yourself, delaying your editing for another day won't do much to your workload. You'd still procrastinate until the last second.
"How hurt? Did he get his finger stuck in the garbage disposal again?" You hear him fumble with something, "I told him to stop sticking things down there, and here we are."
"I think he'll tell you the story once you get there, since he won't let me bring him," You glance back at pouting Woo, "I think he's a bit embarrassed," You whisper.
"I'm right here!" He complains, and you snort.
"I'll be there in ten minutes, make sure he elevates his finger and stays away from the sink. I'll wait in the car-" Yunho stops in the middle of his talk. “Wait. Please tell me he didn’t try that butt thing again.”
You’re quiet for a moment. Wooyoung takes the phone out of your hand, and you stare at him, a brow raised. He turns away from you, but you can still see the blush that brushes his cheeks.
“Stop saying stupid things and get here already before I bleed out and die, okay?” He ends the call, turning to you. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
-
Yunho stands across from Wooyoung, clicking his tongue as he examines the abrasion on his arm. "What did you do, fall off a cliff?" He scolds, and Wooyoung looks at you, a grin cracking his face.
"If you weren't so busy saving lives, I wouldn't have done this to get your attention," Wooyoung says with confidence and a wink, not noticing how red the tips of Yunho's ears get.
"Let's go to the hospital before this thing gets infected." His eyes flick to yours. "Are you okay being alone? Unless you want to come with us."
"Nah, I'm good. I have to finish up some work before leaving. Woo, please let Yun take you and don't try to convince him otherwise," You glare at Wooyoung, rubbing warm water on your cut. Yunho notices the slight winces you do, and glances in the sink.
He frowns. "I'm a doctor, and you're asking for me to ignore your hand. Sometimes, I wonder if Wooyoung's the idiot."
"Hey!" You protest, and he takes your hand out of the sink, examining it closely.
"It's only a surface wound, nothing too big. Just clean it and put a bit of antibiotic on it and change it every six hours. Let it breathe a little before replacing the band-aid and you'll be fine." He says, smiling at you.
Jeong Yunho. Before meeting Wooyoung, Yunho has been your friend for several years; probably since you were small kids, running around the playground. You were close, perhaps a little too close. Your other friends always insisted that you two should date, because you were compatible, but god, you know too much about him to even give it a second thought. He's pretty, you'd give him that. But if you could barely stand Wooyoung's jokes; Yun's were on another level. He couldn't stand five minutes without saying something stupid.
And you love him, you do. But if you had to stand that for more than a day you're sure you'd go mad. Handling one of them is enough to give you a slight headache. But two? Absolutely not. You'd rather fall down that mountain.
"Thank you Yun," You say and he nods quickly, turning back to Wooyoung.
"Time to get your ass to the hospital. I would help you myself, but technically I'm not allowed to since I haven't seen your chart," he says, and Wooyoung only rolls his eyes. He glances at your bag quickly.
"Hey, I'll look more into that orb thing okay? Don't miss my call or else, y/n," he points a finger at you, before following Yunho out to the car. You wave them off, a coffee in hand. Once they drive far enough away, you close the door behind you.
You dig through your bag, placing the orb back in its spot by the window. You think back to the river, a frown on your lips as you stroke the sphere. It still had plenty of water in it, but not enough, you think. You wish silently that it goes back to its original shape, worry about your features. Global warming is a bitch.
You let go of the ball, placing your cup in the dishwasher and stretching your arms. You're exhausted from everything that's happened today, but you still have to edit that angst, sobbing-over-your-popcorn story. So you puff out your chest, taking one last look at the shiny orb shining softly before walking into your dungeon.
-
Wooyoung is fine, he just had a few bruises and they stitched up his abrasion on his arm. Yunho told you the whole story, from Wooyoung's loud screaming to the nurse frantically looking at him and asking if he needed to be sedated. And even with Yunho there, Wooyoung almost stopped the circulation of blood in his arm from how tight he was holding onto him. You can only imagine how dramatic he was; Wooyoung is all bark and no bite.
You flick off a stray leaf from your arm. Some would say you're out of your mind for coming out there without even a week passing since you two almost killed yourselves crossing the river. You know Yunho would have a fit, locking you inside your home and not letting you see the light of day for a month minimum. But you consider yourself a bit fearless, so what's so bad about climbing the mountain again? Seeing the pretty water and having a picnic next to the river?
You finally make it to the spot. A rush of calm flows over you as you set up your spot, lightly flapping your blanket over the forest floor and taking out your small snacks. You sit next to the water as you sip your tea. There's so much more water now, completely different from a couple of days ago. A bit of it splashes against the sides of the bank, some falling over you like a mist. You hum softly, taking a bite of your sandwich.
Your eyes flick over to the other side of the river, and you stop what you're doing. A small cabin is there; it's dark wood almost masking itself against the foliage behind it. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. That couldn't have always been there; there was no way you and Wooyoung would miss it. You tuck the rest of your food away, standing up.
Vines creep along the sides of the small home, flowers decorate the bottom of the windows. It looks a bit old but well kept, signs of someone living there clearly seen. A small part of you is curious, fingers itching to see what's inside. But you shake your head. There could be someone in there right now, and you could be invading their space. You glance down at the blanket.
You could be on someone's property right now.
You crouch down, folding up your blanket as quickly as you can. A creak makes you stop what you're doing, eyes moving back across the river. A man locks the door behind him, staring down at the river. His eyes move along the bank, confusion in his gaze. You look back down, packing away your things. No need to attract more attention to yourself. You shove it in your bag, looking back across the water.
The man's eyes are frozen on yours, an unnaturally bright blue, almost as translucent as the water below you. You don't move, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at you. You feel a strange feeling roll over you, your skin prickling and your hairs standing straight up. Whatever this man... thing is, you know he's not friendly. He takes a step forward, and your body moves into overdrive. You throw your bag onto your back, running through the forest.
You try your best to leap over the rocks and fallen sticks in your way, desperate to get away from him. You hear the stomping of his feet behind you, your heart beating in your ear blocking out most sounds. Your feet catch onto a piece of bark sticking out of a stump, and you stumble before falling onto your back. You hear his steps getting closer and closer, and you try standing up, but curse, staring at your leg. A deep gash covers your calf, and you try your best to hold back your tears.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
His voice is right behind you, and you tense up, quickly turning your head around to face him. He stands above you, arms crossed. His blue eyes narrow, pupils similar to a snake's. He cocks his head to the side, glancing quickly at your leg before flicking back to your face.
“Why are you here?”
You open your mouth, before closing it. This man could be a serial killer, ready to kill you at the slightest mistake in your words. You’re sure that he knows what you’re thinking from the inquisitive look in his eyes. He’s waiting for you to lie, he’s waiting for you to make something up.
“I was having a picnic. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t know this was someone’s property–"
“You shouldn’t be able to see me.” He says plainly. “How can you see me? Have you visited a witch? Are you dying?” He presses you for answers, taking a step closer. “Tell me now, Human.”
This whole situation is getting weirder by the second, so you shake your head, trying to drag yourself away from him. He grabs onto your arm, glaring at you. The bright blue pierces through you, and you quickly realize that they aren’t contacts or a stylistic choice. His eyes are really that color.
“Answer me.”
“Let go of me first, creep.”
He glances at your leg again, before letting go of your arm. You lift yourself onto the stump that tripped you up, breathing heavily. The blood leaks out of your leg slowly. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, and you rub your eyes.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. If you want to report me to the police or something, can you just do it already? I don’t think I’ll last much longer.”
“Are you feeling faint?” He asks, crouching down to touch your leg. You wince as he brushes your cut. “You can’t leave the mountain like this.”
“Of course I can’t, idiot-”
“But I cannot help you. I need to know where Yeouiju is first. I can sense it on you.” He says, pulling back.
You huff in irritation. “I don’t know what a Yeouiju is! Can’t you just help me?”
“Yeouiju has gone missing ever since you appeared, Human. It rested in the soil next to the river. It has gone missing ever since you traveled across the waters.” His eyes move to your bag, before looking at you. He knows it’s in there, but he hasn’t said a word. “If it is not in my hands, terrible things could happen.”
You open your bag, taking it out. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t yours, I’m sorry.” You give it to his open hands, and he sucks in a shaky breath as it touches his skin. You see the stone glow slightly, before he places it in his pocket.
“You made a wish.” He says softly, “And you didn’t use it for yourself.”
It seems like he’s waiting for you to respond with something, but you keep your thoughts to yourself. He stares at you, frustrated. He shakes his head slowly, lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. You yelp, wrapping your arms around his head. His skin is cold, your hands shivering against it. He walks through the forest with ease, barely rocking you. You come to the river, and he glances down at you.
“Close your eyes, human.”
You hold them tight, and he walks. You’re not sure how he gets over the water so easily, but you open your eyes as he opens the door to his cabin. He places you down on his sofa, telling you to stay put as he disappears into another room. His home is cozy, a fireplace in the corner crackling, filling the silence. Everything looks handmade; from the chairs at his table to the clock on the door to the cabinets lining the walls. He has candles in every corner of the room, flickering softly. And the floor is… moist. You're sure every surface of the wood is wet.
You notice that he doesn’t have electricity anywhere in the house, a wood burning stove in the living room and it looks like the kitchen doesn’t even have running water. You try moving your leg but pain strikes up your calf, and you let out a low groan, biting your lip. Here you are, in a stranger’s home without anyone knowing. You curse yourself for leaving your phone at home, even though it’s no use; there’s no signal out here.
-
Yeosang stands in the opposite room, staring down at Yeouiju. He doesn’t quite understand how you were able to see and wield the orb; it could only be held by wise ones, and ones of pure heart. He hasn’t seen a human hold it in ages; it always sat outside, a stray passerby oblivious to its presence. And yet, you hold it without even knowing its power, using your wish to refuel the river’s waters.
He frowns, placing Yeouiju back on his shelf. Many humans who were able to see it in all its glory used their wishes on selfish things; riches, glory, full health for themselves, immortality. But you, you used yours to help a river. Once you took it from its holy spot, he felt the pain of it being gone from his presence in his chest, a hole ripped out cleanly.
He rubs his chest, but it feels different ever since he touched the stone. He knows that something is off, something the other gods didn't tell him about. He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing back at the stone before walking out.
-
"I told you to stay still." He says as he walks back in.
You finally take in his appearance. He's wearing old clothes, loosely fitting to his form. White shirt and cargo pants, though his shoes are oddly clean. He kicks them to the side, staring at you. His hair is blond, overgrown and covering a bit of his eyes. He walks to you, holding a small, leather bag in his hand. He sits on the floor next to you, digging through his bag. You see him take out small clothes, he sniffs it once before looking down at your leg. He frowns, glancing up at you.
"It was foolish of you to run. You could have hurt yourself more than this," he takes out small tweezers. "Close your eyes if looking at me doing this is uncomfortable."
Before he begins, you move your leg away. He sighs, dropping his arms.
"What's the issue?" He asks, already exasperated. "This will be finished quickly if you cooperate."
"How do I know you're not going to poison me or something? Or is this your evil plot to lure me into your home and keep me as your pet? Huh?"
He stares at you. He pulls your leg close to him, holding it tightly. He blows on your leg softly, and you feel it grow numb at his breath, and you widen your eyes.
Okay, at this point you can only come to one conclusion. This must be some weird dream of yours. Though it is a first, seeing someone like him. You try to calm your heart as he leans forward, slowly picking out small pebbles and other debris. The silence is comforting, but your curiosity is lingering as you look at him. There's something off about him, from his eyes to his calm demeanor to his strange home in the mountains. And there's more to it, but you just can't figure it out. His eyes flick up at yours, emotionless.
"Are you going to stare at me the whole time, or ask your questions?" He asks softly. "I will not tell you my name, and I will not tell you why I have a home in the mountains, or about Yeouiju. But you may ask about other things, and I'll decide if I want to answer."
So the things you want to know, he's not going to say. He digs into your skin as you try pulling away, but his grip is so strong and steady that it doesn't even faze him. His pupils widen as he focuses on cleaning your wound.
"Why don't you have electricity?" You ask softly.
"Why have man-made things when you can live off the Earth? She has given us everything that we need, there is no use for electrical appliances. I have candles, and I have wood. I live near a river. Nothing more is needed." He says simply. "I am going to cleanse your wound, please tell me if the pain is too great."
He slowly dabs the cloth on your skin, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. Not finding any, he turns back to your cut.
"Why did you decide to help me? To bring me to your home?"
He stops cleaning for a moment, and you wonder if you asked too much. He closes his eyes for a moment before speaking.
"The River told me that you were pure, the waters flowing through the mountain whispered to me, and I only listened. There is nothing more to that." He takes out his butterfly stitches, looking at you. "Close your eyes, it will hurt less."
"No, I'm fine—"
"Close your eyes, I don't have time to argue with you about this. Just, close your eyes."
You glare at him but shut your eyes, putting your hand over them. He huffs, then begins to take care of your wound. You could barely feel his touch, the light brushes against your skin still cold. You wonder if it's because he doesn't have heat, but the fireplace should suffice, right? And it's almost the end of Winter; Spring is right around the corner. Wait, why are you worrying about a man who lives in the woods? He's probably been here for years and knows how to live without assistance from you. You aren't his friend; why are you even thinking about it?
Your eyes flick open, moving to the stone necklace resting against his chest. Carved into each stone are symbols you don't quite recognize, a light blue peeking out from the strokes. He grunts, and your eyes move back up to his. He frowns, looking down at your leg.
"You need to rest before leaving; it will be too hard to hike back down the mountains with a wound like this," he stands. "I'll give you some of the stew I made earlier since you didn't finish your lunch." He doesn't ask if you want any, walking back to the kitchen.
He looks back at you sitting next to the fireplace, hand reaching out to feel the waves of heat flowing off of it. Your hair has leaves sticking out of it, some falling to the floor without much notice from you. He leans on the counter, running his fingers through his own.
They will not approve of him having a Human in his home; he knows that. He can only imagine what his brothers might do if they stepped into here, fresh off a trip to see Mother. Eyes moving to the Human in the room, bringing less hospitality with their stares than him. Perhaps San will accept you, but it is a reach. Even though he’s the brother with the most light-hearted mind, he's furious when he needs to be.
He reaches over, taking out a wooden bowl from his cabinet and opening the lid to the stew. Steam moistens his face as he places chunks of meat and potatoes into your bowl. He looks at you again, and this time, you're staring out the window. You rock your not-injured leg, too deep in your thoughts to notice his stare. He places his hand in the water, breathing slowly.
He almost drops the bowl at the sudden onslaught of emotions. He closes his eyes, teeth grinding as his heart swells in his chest, a ringing in his ears and his hand shaking. He's not able to produce sweat, he knows that, but he feels it fall from his cheek. His eyes dilate, looking at you. The word keeps on chanting over and over in his head, and he tries his best to suppress it. Because it cannot be. You are an ordinary Human, it is impossible-
Mate.
"Hey, are you alright?"
You turn to him, and jump. He's trembling; tears falling down his cheeks and sweating more than you've ever seen. You stand, limping slightly.
A small breeze drifts through the window, and he tries to hold his breath. But the creature in him takes control, awakening. The sweet smell of your pheromones brush his nostrils, tickling his nerves. He closes his eyes again, struggling to tell you to stop moving. If the counter wasn't between you and him ...
"Don't move." He says, voice rumbling.
You immediately stop, as his eyes burn into yours. They're completely black as they look at you, the pretty, crystal blue gone. You see as he clenches the counter with his hand, as if he's struggling to keep himself from jumping over it.
Mate. Mate with her, she is yours.
The same words continue in his head over and over, becoming too much to bear.
"Leave, now." He says.
You look outside, the sunset almost turning into the starry night sky. But if you're honest, you'd rather deal with the woods than the strange man in front of you, whose eyes move to every flick of your muscles, neck strained. You grab your bag quickly, limping out the door. Before you leave, you turn back.
"Uh, thanks. For helping me. And I'm sorry I stole your stone."
You shut the door, quickly hobbling across the river, ignoring the loud crashing sounds behind you. You don't know what's up with him, but you don’t want to know. Not really. God, Wooyoung and Yunho would laugh if you told them about this, about meeting a strange guy in the woods and going into his home. Well, scold you first, before bursting into laughter. Telling you that you hit your head a bit too hard on the ground, that you should've gone to the hospital along with Woo. That you have a concussion.
You shake your head at your silly thoughts, your flashlight guiding you back home.
-
You shut the door behind you, taking stuttered breaths. You toss your phone to the side, running your fingers through your hair. Leaves catch onto your nails, and you grunt, tossing them in the small bin next to your door. Whatever the fuck just happened, you wish you can just push it out of your mind, toss it to the side and pretend that today is just another ordinary day.
You throw yourself onto your couch, a nightly routine. A shot of pain goes up your leg, and you hiss, looking back down at it. He bandaged it up pretty well, neatly cleaning off your wound and leaving only the aligned butterfly bandages behind. You run your fingers along the side of it, humming to yourself softly. Was he high? His face was so red, but it just looked like he smelled something terrible.
You reach for your remote, turning on National Geographic. MythBusters is on, talking about the loch ness monster and dragons. You raise your brow, relaxing into the cushions. As he begins his trip to some Forest in China, you hear the familiar beep of your phone. You glance at the caller ID, and see Wooyoung's kissy face. Is he already fine and dandy? You were sure that he caught something with that deep gash. You answer, balancing it between your ear and neck.
"What's up-"
"Where is the stone? y/n, tell me that you don't have the stone anymore," he says through rushed breaths. It sounds like he's run a marathon, gasping through your phone. You lean away slightly.
"Your voice is muffled Woo. Move away from your mic," You complain. "But yes, the stone is back where it's supposed to be. Out of my hands. Deep in the mountains, never to be seen again."
"Thank God. I was researching about it and it talked about it having omnipotence power, and it belong to the ancient dragons-"
You hear a soft knock on your door, and you lean over your couch, looking through the side window next to your door. You see a figure standing there, completely still. Wooyoung continues to yap about the end of the world and something about serpents as you groan, standing and stretching. The banging gets louder, and you sigh.
"What? Who are you?" You yell.
"y/n?" Wooyoung says, "When did you go to the mountains? Did you go alone?"
"Woo, shh. There's someone at the door-"
"Who's at the door, y/n?" You hear the nervousness in his voice. "Fuck, can you just answer me already? I'm about to piss myself."
You walk to the door, but stop, staring at the small window. You can recognize that frame from anywhere. Large body almost blocking the whole window, blue eyes shining through the glass. Your hand shakes, barely listening to Wooyoung's rants into your phone.
"y/n, tell me who the fuck–"
"What did you say, Woo? About the stone and the dragon?" You say softly, your eyes never leaving his.
"Well, it's not a well known story, but sometimes there's a four-toed, Korean dragon that carries a stone called Yeouiju, carried either in its mouth or claws. This is all legend, but it says that whoever is worthy of it and carries the stone, will have the blessing of the gods. Something about the abilities of omnipotence and creation at will. Almost like a wish fulfilling stone, y/n. And it also mentions something about if dragons lose their hold of the stone and is found in the hands of another, they are destined."
"Destined?" You say breathlessly. The door begins to shake, a smile slowly forming on the man's face. You hear a small mhm from Wooyoung as he continues.
"Yup. Whoever is able to hold the stone, is destined to be with one another. Like mates, I guess."
The door begins to rattle after Wooyoung finishes. You take a step back from the door, eyes wide.
"I don't know what that stone that you found was and I know you don't believe in things like this, so please just drop the skepticism for a bit and listen to me. Don't go back for that stone, y/n. It's better to just pretend that it doesn't exist, and live your life without it. I'd rather you not go up the mountains either."
The door groans under his weight, small cracks slowly forming. You move into your kitchen, looking at your phone.
"Wooyoung," You say softly.
"Yes, what's up?" You don't respond after a moment, and he begins to panic. "y/n? You never told me who's at your door? What's wrong?"
"Do you really believe in this whole dragon thing? Because if you do, I'm ninety-fucking-percent sure he's right outside my door," You say. Wooyoung doesn't say anything for a moment, before a chuckle erupts through the phone.
"Don't shit me right now, y/n. Wait..." he trails off, before speaking again. "What happened when you dropped off the stone? y/n, this isn't funny, I'm being serious."
The banging gets louder. You wince each time, putting your phone on speaker, your hands shaking too much to hold it.
"I met a guy in the woods, Woo. His house was weird, he didn't have electricity and his eyes looked like some type of lizard's... And I ran back home, Woo. He told me to leave, and I did. But right now, the man I found in the woods is outside the front door, and he wants to come in."
You hear crashing through the line, and things thrown all over the place.
"y/n, do not open that fucking door. y/n, go hide somewhere, in your room or something–"
"Why won't you let me in?"
His voice echoes in your home, and your eyes flick back to the door, seeing him staring right at you, even through the tempered glass.
Nothing will happen, don’t you want to see me? I won’t hurt you. Just listen to me, okay? Open the door, and everything will be fine.
The cracks in the wood grow, and you feel your heart beating in your ear. The dark wood is slowly coming apart, and Wooyoung is too far to come and save you. You're on your own.
"I'm on my way, y/n, please go hide somewhere, don't open that door! I'm not going to hang up the phone, okay? I'll be on the line with you," he says, and you hear him zipping up his coat. It takes him over an hour to get there every time, and even with him speeding he could only knock off about twenty minutes. And that's if he doesn't run into city traffic.
Your phone beeps, blinking and showing you your low battery.
1%.
Who are you talking to? Is that your mate?
His voice drips with jealousy, and you're sure if you stay on the line any longer–
"Woo, I'll have to hang up now, but I'll make sure to call you back, alright? My phone is running out of charge." You say, hearing the curses fall from his lips.
"Don't you hang up on me!"
You click the end call button, keep your eye on the door as you plug it into your charger in your kitchen. The thumping slows down a bit, and you hear a soft knock on the wood.
I'm sorry for making you walk down the mountain alone, but I was with you the whole time. I didn't let you out of my sight.
That was the feeling that itched your skin, making you turn back every couple of seconds. He was protecting you– no. No, he was chasingyou.
Why don't you let me in, y/n? I want to check up on you, make sure everything is okay.
You shake your head, though you're not sure if he could see that gesture. You're too scared to speak to him, to say a word that'll show your weakness. Show how desperately your body wanted you to fling that door open. You don't know what's gotten into you, but the pull, the urge to see him is slowly overcoming your rational thoughts.
Are you feeling okay, y/n?
You love the way your name rolls off his tongue, familiar and yet, not. He slowly pushes his body against the door, waiting for you to say something to him.
I know you want to speak to me, please. Just say something so that I know you're okay.
You wrap your fingers around the edge of the counter, keeping your eyes to the floor.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," You whisper. You're not sure if he hears you, until a low moan falls from his lips, his jiggling of the door handle increasing by the second.
You sound like you need my help. I can hear it in your voice, you need me, don't you? You feel that, you feel that feeling rolling over you? I can smell you from here, y/n. I know you want me. I know you want me to make love to you, don't you?
You fall into your stool, wrapping your arms around your body, legs tight together.
Want me to fill you up with my cum, have you shaking with how good I pump into you? Biting into your neck, sucking marks into your skin. I bet you'll like that, right?
You try to control your breaths, but a low moan falls from your lips, and you hear him fall to the ground. The TV is too low to hide the sound of him unzipping his pants. Too low to cover his loud moans as he rubs himself just outside your door. You can only imagine the sweat dripping down his forehead, head thrown back and eyes tight as he fucks himself into his hand.
Fuck, I'm here, y/n. Just open those legs for me, hm? Don't you want me to smell you? To suck your clit, to make you cum? Just open them. Do it for me, now.
His voice turns aggressive at the end, and you don't move. You know what will happen if you do. And you're not sure if you'd want to stop yourself from throwing that door open, taking him without a second thought.
You're mine, you know that right? Since you grabbed my stone, we're destined for one another. No mortal will make you feel like I do. I can hear you panting, you know. I can see you, sitting there. Struggling to listen to me, trying your best to keep yourself in that chair.
I know you're thinking about me fucking you. Opening the door and shoving you against the wall, shoving my cock into you without a second thought.
He stops moving for a second, standing up. He begins hitting the door, the brute force breaking off one of the hinges. You need to hide now. You look from the floor to the glass, and between the foggy texture, you see something peeking through. Are those… wings?
His eyes meet yours, and his name rumbles in your mind. It isn't from his mouth, you just feel it being given to you.
Yeosang.
You get up from your chair, not thinking about the repercussions of your actions. Not thinking about how he can smell you. He grunts loudly, slamming himself against the door harder. You run into your bedroom on the opposite side of the house.
Your eyes move all over, before they rest on your closet. It's such a typical place to hide, but you have no other choice. Then your eyes move to your bathroom, but you shake your head. No, that'll be the first place he'll check. You quietly open your closed door, shutting it behind you with a slight click.
You hear your door being kicked in, and you flinch, cursing at yourself for not checking your phone charge before running in here. You hear his soft footsteps as he walks around your home, your breaths hushed.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says softly, voice echoing throughout the empty hallways.
You say nothing, not daring to even move an inch. The door squeaks open, and you press your hands over your mouth, eyes watering. Your hands shake as you hear his slow breaths. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you, deep down you know that. But the fear of the unknown, the fear that he’s actually here to damn you for taking his Yeouiju, makes you think otherwise.
“Why didn’t you open the door?” He asks, stopping in front of the closet. His finger scratches the wood, and you hold in your sobs. “Aren’t we meant to be together?”
The door flings open, and you scream, covering your face. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to steal the stone, please!”
Hands pull you up, and you yell, trying your best to fight against him.
“y/n! Y/n! Hey, listen to me! I’m not him, I’m Woo! Hey, hey,” He says, and you open your eyes, looking at the soft brown eyes of your best friend. “Hey, calm down. Just breathe, alright? I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.”
He pulls you into his arms, trying his best to calm down the shakes that just won’t stop vibrating through your body. You cry against his shoulder, clutching so hard against him you’re sure you’ll leave bruises.
“Don’t you ever fucking hang up on me, alright? Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He says sternly, and you feel his tears drip onto your neck. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, I thought… I thought-”
He doesn’t say it, but you know. A small knock makes you jump, and Wooyoung holds you tight, standing in front of you and turning to the door. Yunho stands there sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“I know you said to stay in the car, but it’s so dark out there and the loud music could do only so much, ya know?” He glances behind Wooyoung, meeting your eyes.
“So I heard you caught the eye of a dragon?”
-
Wooyoung stands in the kitchen, flipping an omelet. His eyes stare at you through the window, watching you swing yourself softly on the swing. Yunho stands next to him, balancing on one leg. His eyes follow his gaze, and he sighs.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off of her for days, Woo. She’s fine.”
Wooyoung looks down at the pan, shaking his head. “She says she’s fine, but I know she’s not, hyung. She pretends, you know that. She always says that she’s okay, but then I hear her crying in her room, telling us that it’s just an emotional movie. Every time she goes into the bathroom alone, she locks the door and takes less than two minutes in and out. She’s anxious; and she’s trying to hide it from us.”
Yunho nods slowly. “So, this dragon thing, it’s real?”
Wooyoung knows he doesn’t want to believe it. Believe that just up those mountains, a creature lays in wait, waiting for Yunho and him to leave so he can see y/n again.
“It’s as real as sliced bread,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can’t believe it myself; but what else do you think broke in the door like that? And it was from the outside. No human or animals around here could do that much damage. And I’m sure that an elephant didn’t travel over here to knock down her door.”
“So, what do we do?” Yunho replies. “Do we bring her back to our apartment?”
Wooyoung elbows him, ignoring the smirk on his face. “I haven’t told her about that yet, idiot.”
“Better now than never,” Yunho shrugs. “But I’m being serious. We know she hates the city, but if she’s too afraid to stay alone, well, if we’re too afraid to let her, then we should bring it up.”
Wooyoung grumbles. You already have so much on your plate; dealing with the head editor at your job, this dragon nonsense. Bringing up his new relationship with your childhood friend would probably bring more stress to your life. Wooyoung frowns as he stares at his egg, taking a small bite.
“Fine, we’ll bring it up. But let me tell her first, okay? I think it’s better for her to hear it from me.”
Yunho shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. I think she’ll be happy you finally have some dick in your life.” Yunho narrowly misses Wooyoung’s spatula, laughing as he chases him around the house, the stove of course, safely turned off.
-
“This is not possible. A wise one never mates with a mortal, a Human of all the possibilities,” Seonghwa says through clenched teeth, staring in disgust at his younger brother. “What have you done?”
“Do not scold him so much, Seonghwa. He must have made some sort of mistake, I cannot see Yeosang’s mate being a Human. It is impossible.” Jongho says, defending his brother. “He is the wisest of us all, don’t be so harsh.”
“Or perhaps he would like for this to happen,” San says, eyes on his brother. Yeosang says nothing, listening to their complaints. “He has always followed what Mother says, but at some point, we all rebel. This may be his time.”
“You all are being harsh,'' Mingi mumbles, staring at the blood on the couch. It smells like Human, the stench not too bad on his nostrils, since he has been infatuated with one before. He looks at Yeosang’s tired eyes. “I trust Yeosang with my whole life. Let him explain himself first, please.”
“Fine,” Seonghwa murmurs. He glares at Yeosang. “Explain, now.”
Yeosang keeps his eyes on the floor, exhaustion not the only thing taking a toll on his body. He hears his inner dragon desperately wanting to leave his home, and run to yours, completing the mating ritual. A chain attached to his legs, made with the toughest metals that Earth can provide. It wraps around his kitchen counter; keeping him in his place.
He stares at the chain for a moment, before sighing, pushing his long locks away from his face.
"The dragon told me, this was not my choice and never will be. I just helped her in the forest, tended to her wound. And then when I was about to feed her, I felt the pain in his chest. The overwhelming feeling of the beast trying to claw himself out and mate with her. My dragon is never wrong, even in this Human form. This is why I have myself chained up. Even now, it wants to shred the four of you apart to get to her. And your insults are only fueling the anger in my chest."
He looks at them, and Mingi tries his best to hold in his shock. Scratches cover his face from his claws, slowly healing. Dried blood stains his cheeks but he couldn't even begin to notice. He sees the tightness in his brother's jeans, the reigned in anger that keeps him from leaping at the rest.
Because he has felt this way before.
"Hyung," Mingi mumbles softly. "We all know what happened when my lover was a Human. I am afraid. Afraid that the same would happen to you and y/n. I don't think... I don't believe we should allow you to see her again, or vice versa. It is for the best."
A low growl rumbles in his chest, and the others stare at him, ready for an attack at any given moment. But Yeosang closes his eyes, calming himself.
"We are ancient ones; there is no reason we should even be able to have mates," San mumbles, rubbing his forehead. His red hair is striking compared to the rest of them; but he is a fire dragon. It is expected for him to look this way. "Why did Mother insist?"
"She wanted us to have a chance at a normal Human experience. Ever since she gave us this," Seonghwa gestures to his body in disgust, "Human form, she has wanted us to assimilate into everyday society. But Yeosang has kept to himself, as well as the rest of us." Seonghwa looks to Yeosang, white hair covering his light pupils, almost translucent. He wears his brown human contacts when necessary; but he prefers to let his eyes breathe.
"You should have left that Human to die. It is the natural order. I know that you are... slightly leaning to caring for them, but they are not like us. And you seemed to have forgotten that.
"I couldn't leave," Yeosang explains. "She had Yeouiju. I couldn't leave without retrieving it. Without it, our rivers will dry. Even if I am in control of the rain and river, that doesn't mean that I can stop it from drying out. Finding out I'm to mate with y/n, that was just a mistake."
Mingi shakes his head, brown hair and eyes more normal than the rest of them. Besides the reptile slits as pupils, nothing else was out of the ordinary. At least, from what the normal Human could see.
"I don't approve, Yeosang."
"I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "But this is not our only issue."
Seonghwa tenses up, and San speaks. "What is it now?"
"I am not the only one that has a Human mate."
They all exchange looks, knowing exactly who he speaks of.
"What will we do about that? He hasn't been careful, but mother will approve. She will stop us if we ever interfere. She would scowl us."
"Make sure that he does no harm to the Human. Even though most of you despise the creatures, they are Mother's creations. Seeing them harmed only disturbs her rest. And we are the guardians. Yunho will stay in line." Yeosang is confident in his resolve. Yunho is the one that has spent the most time with the lesser beings. He knows how to be like a Human.
-
Yunho pouts as he stands at the door, Wooyoung next to him. You lean against the wall, rolling your eyes at the behavior. You're fine, and they continue to insist that you go with them. But from the lingering gazes Yunho gives his ass and the smirks Wooyoung sends his way, you've had enough. And you love them, you do. But the constant laughing at higher volumes than necessary and the toilet seat being up, you've had it. The only reason why you haven't kicked them out earlier is because they were worried out of their minds. But you're okay now.
For now.
"y/n, please eat more. You're stuck in that room all day and never come out. I'm serious," He adds, seeing the look on your face. "I bought vitamins and left them in your room. And if you need more—"
"Ah, Woo! She'll be fine, she is an adult not a child," Yunho complains. "And I've been standing here for ten minutes as you showed her around her own house and told her where her own things are. The new idol show is going to start soon, let's just go." Yunho pulls at Wooyoung, kicking him outside. He gives you an apologetic look.
"Call us if you need us. We're here for you, you know that, right?" He says softly. "I don't want you to be hurt, especially by this strange man. Call me if he appears. Do not hesitate, y/n."
You see the plea in his eyes, desperate for you to listen to his words. You nod, and he pulls you into a quick hug, squeezing you tightly before kissing your forehead and stumbling after Wooyoung. You wave to them as they go, your heart clenching. You know that you should have gone with them. If he wanted you this bad, he knows. He'll be waiting for you to be alone, and you're not sure if the feeling in your chest is anxiety or excitement.
-
You frown as you submit your edit of the chapter, shutting off your computer. You let out a long, breathy sigh, throwing yourself back in your chair. The wheels give it’s last sad effort and you yelp, falling back to the floor. The drop echoes around the house as you groan, small whimpers falling from your lips. You hear a loud bang, and you barely glance up, Wooyoung’s probably forgotten his underwear that he still didn’t take back. Hands reach and lift you from the floor with ease, and you laugh slowly.
“Don’t make fun of me I know I’m an idiot, Woo,” You say, reaching down to pick up your fallen chair.
Hands reach for it instead, and a cold shiver rolls up your spine. His hands are too big to be your best friends’. Your eyes follow his arms, meeting the light blue that you’ve tried to erase from your head. His hair is pulled back from his face, resting in a low bun. He looks at your shocked expression, and slides your chair under your desk. You take a step back once he moves forward, and he stops.
“I-”
“Why are you in my house? How did you get into my house? Why are you in my room? Get out!” You yell, eyes flicking to the phone text to your computer. He follows your gaze, shaking his head.
“Calling more Humans to assist you won’t make me go away. And I heard the sound, and I came as quickly as I could. Are you alright? You hit the floor pretty hard.”
As quick as he could? Was he waiting outside your door? You know that the hike from his home to yours is at least an hour, and that’s if you don’t stop to take a break. He takes in your confused expression, waiting for you to object, for you to scream and run away from him. You wear your thoughts on your face, your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hair looks like you’ve ran your fingers through it over and over, and you’re wearing your sleepwear, loose on your frame.
His dragon rumbles inside of him, and he closes his eyes for a moment, too quick for you to think it’s more than just a blink. He opens them again, keeping his gaze with yours.
“Are you stalking me?” You ask, “Are you waiting outside my hours, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on me?” You know you sound crazy, but he’s crazy! He’s the one that broke your door, which led to Yunho standing there in confusion as he tried to fix it.
“No, I told you that I came-”
“Yea, you came when you heard the sound. But you had to be close, it’s not possible.”
“Are you sure it’s not possible? You know that I am not a Human,” he says simply. “Just accept it, and then you’ll understand that I can find you anywhere and be there within moments.”
He sits on the bed, and you hear something drag. You glance down, seeing chains wrapped around his ankles. He doesn’t explain why he has them, just stares at you.
“Please leave my house.” You say softly. “I don’t want you here, Yeosang.”
That shatters the expressionless look on his face. His mouth forms a small o, eyebrows tight in concentration. “You know my name. I haven’t told you my name, but you know. How do you know?” He stands this time, eyes flicking between yours. The pupils narrow into slits, blue darkening.
“I heard it. When you were outside my door, I heard your name whispered into my ear.”
He nods slowly. “So this is not a lie. It’s true, you are my mate, y/n.” He takes your figure in. “I cannot believe you’re my mate, a Human.” He says that last word with a bit of revulsion in his speech, almost hissing as it comes out. “I couldn’t … I didn’t think it was possible to mate with a Human. I didn’t think that Mingi was telling the truth, but you are here.” He reaches out, but moves his hand back quickly when you flinch. “I will not hurt you. You know that.”
“I don’t know that, Yeosang! I don’t know you, I have no clue who the fuck you are, and you continue to just barge into my home, thinking it’s yours. Saying that I’m your mate, but I’m not. I don’t even know your last name, I don’t know anything but the fact that you live in a small house in the middle of the forest and you’re horny as Hell!”
He snorts at that. “I’m not sexually aroused all the time. It’s just when I’m in the presence of my mate. My dragon inside of me wants to have children, that’s its goal. But when I’m alone, I’m fine. I don’t have the desire.” He looks at you, “I didn’t want this either. To be your mate. That’s why I live in the forest alone, away from Humans. I would rather be away from all of you, isolated and live on my own. But unfortunately, you decided to come into my forest and take Yeouiju. If you just left it alone, none of this would have happened.”
You stay silent at that. He sighs, tugging at a small hair that fell out of his bun. You notice that his fingers are lined with silver rings, each one has a strange symbol. Just like the necklace that rests on his neck. You look away, trying your best to comprehend whatever the Hell is going on right now.
He’s right; you’re not scared of him. Your chest leaped when he appeared, but a wave of calm fell over you once you realized it was him. Despite everything, you feel safe. With a man who claims he’s a big, bad dragon that lives in the woods. With a man who claims that he’s your mate. With a man that almost made you drop to your knees just a week or so ago because he told you to. You consider yourself an independent woman. Not listening to the begging of some man to shove his dick in you. And yet, you’ve been drooling over that night, wonder what would’ve happened if you opened the door…
“Stop.” He says, clenching his jaw.
“What? I didn’t even say anything!” You say, your face warming by the second. Oh God, you’re making a face, aren’t you? The fuck me face? How more embarrassing can this get?
“You didn’t need to, I can smell you. If you continue I won’t be able to stop myself.” He says simply. Your body shivers, and he growls.
“I said stop.”
“I am! I am, can you just go?” You open the door, gesturing out. “And never come back?”
He looks out into the hallway, closing his eyes for a moment. He opens them again, a tired look in his face. “If I leave, I will be back unfortunately. Even now, my dragon wants me to stay. To set up my nest here because your home is filled with the scent of you, and those other men,” He wrinkles his nose. “I thought that I could speak to you, about more than just mates. About why I am like this, and about my dragon that I mentioned and you don’t seem that fazed that I keep on saying it.”
Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, this guy was right! Your nerdy best friend is right! You look at Yeosang, frowning. He doesn’t even look like a dragon, did he adapt as the years passed? Changing his form to walk among you humans easily?
"My friend, he's really into this stuff. He researches old objects and keeps many. A kind of Indiana Jones if you really think about it.”
Yeosang stares at you blankly and you can only sigh, your reference meaningless to his ears.
You rub your face, turning around and walking into the kitchen. He follows behind, a bit slow on his part. You start the coffee maker, before turning back to him. His eyes are empty, not even a peek into what he’s thinking. But you notice how they flick all over your kitchen, taking in the environment with caution.
"What are dragons?" You ask, staying a bit away from him. The counter is the only thing separating you, but he doesn't make any motions to get closer to you, and you're glad. "Are they giant lizards?"
Yeosang scoffs at that. "We are not giant lizards. We are..." He trails off. "The best description would be a mix between a lizard and a serpent. We are cold-blooded, and we mate for offspring in the early Spring."
You tense up at that, knowing that Spring just began.
"Is that why you picked me as your mate? Because it's early Spring?"
He shakes his head slowly. "No. Mother, when she created us we were supposed to guard our realms. Make sure the balance of the Earth always stays the same. But she noticed how lonely we were. You see, I don't often see my brothers. Since I am in charge of Earth's water, I have stayed alone on that mountain for millennia. No human has ever had the ability to see me or my cottage, because it is hidden from their eyes. But you," He looks at you. "You have changed everything. And a part of me is afraid of this. I've never wanted a mate, because..."
He looks down at his hands. "I have seen my brother care for a Human. And watch him die in his arms, unable to do anything. He wasn't his mate, but he cared for him like so. Mingi didn't deserve to get his heart broken like that, so I swore that I would never do the same. I would never interact with a Human, I will stay away."
"But your eyes met mine from across the river. At that moment, I knew that you were different. And you happened to be the one mother chose for me. A Human who would die in a few decades, only a few hours for a creature like me."
He told you the harsh truth. He doesn't want you, and it's not like you want him. You barely know him. But the feeling of rejection swirls in your chest, the burning sensation of knowing that you're unwanted making you want to vomit.
"Then why are you here? Is this supposed to make me feel better? Make me want to throw myself into your arms and thank your Mother that she made us mates? I don't know you, Yeosang. And I don't think I want to. Not after you basically called me a waste of time."
He winces at that. "I didn't mean to–"
His eyes turn to the open doorway, narrowing. He moves in front of you, blocking your view. You try to push him out of the way, but he glances back, glaring at you. You stay silent then, hiding behind his wide stature.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, emotion lost in his voice.
The new person laughs, and it's like magic to your ears. Not as pleasant and mouth watering as Yeosang, but pretty damn close.
"Ah, do you want to hide her from us now? We just wanted to take a peek at your mate."
"Leave." He says simply. "I told you to not involve yourselves in this, it'll only overwhelm her–"
"Overwhelm me? Why do you keep on treating me like a fucking kid?" You peek your head out from around him, and he sighs, letting you stand in front of him without much protest.
A man stands there, arms crossed as he tilts his head and takes in your figure. His eyes roam over your body, teeth biting his lower lip. His eyes rest of yours, filled with something you can't figure out. You wouldn't have noticed anything strange about him, but his eyes are a lighter brown.
"Yeosang didn't say you were a beautiful Human," his voice is smooth, slithering into your ear as he speaks. He takes a step forward, "Perhaps you'd want me instead?"
"Cut it out," The man standing behind him mumbles. His hair is a dark red, eyes matching the same. His eyes flick over you quickly, frowning. "She knows how easily you fell in love with a Human, and yet, she continues to do this to us." He tsks, looking away. "How despicable."
"San, Mother makes decisions for a reason. We must be grateful, she is the one who made us into who we are," The slick talker rebuttals. He looks back at you, nodding his head once. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mingi. The one with the bad temper is San. Seonghwa isn't here, he decided to go back to his Home."
Mingi looks at Yeosang, a small pout on his lips. "Don't hide your playthings from us anymore—"
A low rumble echoes around the room, stomping Mingi in his speech. You feel Yeosang move closer to you, almost inches away from pressing his back against yours.
"Watch what you say," he says.
San sighs. "He's already bonded, there's no use. If we remove her, it will only tear him apart."
Remove? Remove? Were they going to—
Yeosang feels your heartbeat race and he stands in front of you, wrapping an arm around you protectively. His skin is cold but it's comforting, his grip strong as he holds you to his side.
"I won't repeat myself, San. Remember your place. Both of you leave her home, now."
Mingi's face drops. "I'm sorry," he tilted his head to you. "To both of you. Please be well."
San sniffs, eyebrows furrowed. "Doesn't it smell like–" Mingi slaps his hand against San's lips, a nervous laughter erupting from him.
"Haha! Time to go, San. I'll see you back home, Yeosang. And it was nice meeting you, y/n. I hope to see you again soon."
Mingi pushes a resistant San out of your home, shutting the door loudly behind them as they leave. Your hand brushes lightly against Yeosang's arm, and he slowly lowers his chest, heart beat steadying to a normal pace.
"I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect them to show up here so quickly." He confesses, turning back to look at you. "And I understand if you don't want to be my mate. I'll just stay away."
You feel your body reject the idea. Tears spring to your eyes, your hands begin to shake, and your breaths kick up in speed. You shake your head, not wanting to meet his eyes."No. No, I mean... We can be friends, Yeosang. I don't want you to disappear. Not until I've given you a chance."
His somber expression fades as he takes in your words. "You don't have to do that to make me feel content. I'm okay with being away."
"Are you? Are you okay with not seeing me?"
His eyes move to the floor at that. He doesn't say anything, but as the old saying goes, actions speak louder than words. You nod slowly.
"Okay, then we can be friends. Just... when you come to my house, maybe knock before barging in? And don't break my door anymore please, it took Yunho way too long to fix it."
You see the disgusted look on his face, but before you can question it it fades away. He moves his head in agreement, slightly tilting it to you.
"I'm fine with that. When you are inviting people into your home, do you trust them? There are many who say they are something when they are not. You should be wary of that."
"No one that's come into this house is someone that I don't trust. At least, not until today."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't you trust my judgment?" You ask through clenched teeth. If he's referring to you not letting your best friends into your home, you'd shut it down immediately. They're the only people that you love and trust in this world. Not even him, your destined mate, can get in between that.
He sighs, mumbling words in a language you don't understand. He takes off his necklace, rolling the stones between his fingers for a moment. "You've kept your eyes on this for a while, so before I go I should tell you what this is. "When we were first created, all of us were given a token of Mother's love and protection. She gave me this necklace and the silver on my fingers. The symbols are something that your Human mind won't quite comprehend. But essentially, it protects you from danger and deep woes. Since... Since I worry for you, I would like it if you kept this with you."
You stare at it in his hands, his fingers brushing lightly over the stones.
"I can't take that—"
"I am a dragon, y/n. I do not need protection like this. And I have my rings, if you are worried about that. Please, this will make me feel better about leaving you alone without my protection."
Before he was complaining about having to be your mate, but now he's basically confessing his love for you. You nod, barely, and he takes a step forward, slowly dropping it on your neck. You think that some feeling will go over you, but there's nothing but the smell of him that surrounds you. He stares at the necklace on your neck, letting out a breath of relief.
"Please don't take it off unless I'm with you. Now that you're my mate, it makes you a target for beings that are too terrifying to name. Beings that lurk in the forest."
He hears your heartbeat pick up at that, and curses himself for scaring you.
"They won't come to you, I've already placed protection around your home. Nothing within a twenty mile radius will come to you unless I perish. And I am older than the stars."
You laugh, and his chest whines at the sound. He closes his eyes, trying his best to remember the beautiful symphony. His eyes move to how yours crinkle at the corners, how your nose scrunches up and your cheeks lift.
"I cannot believe the universe decided to make my mate a dragon that constantly reminds me that he's older than dirt. And people said Twilight was bad."
He listens to you mumble on and on about how unfair the world is and something about sliced bread. You look at him, and your eyes still. A small smile graces his lips, and it's one of the most ethereal things you've ever seen. You feel your cheeks warm at your thoughts. Watching him stand there, your doubts go away for just a moment.
"I'll see you soon, right?" He asks.
"Yes. Yes you will, Yeosang."
-
Wooyoung walks around your home, eyes flicking over everything. You watch him with mild curiosity, waiting for him to complain about the dishes not being done or something so minuscule that not even your dragon— Yeosang, would be able to notice.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He questions, worried. That's why you love him. Despite his annoying habits and a bit of overbearing behavior, he cares about you. He cares about you so much, and thinking about it almost makes you cry.
"I'm okay, Woo."
He takes a step closer, doubt in his eyes. "Are you sure? You don't need anything?"
"No, I'm fine Woo. All I need is you and Yunho, and I'm good. Answer my calls and whine for all I care, but I'm good. No more walking around here like a zombie, no more jumping at the slightest sounds. I'm good."
He runs his fingers through his hair.
"Fine, but stay away from that forest. I'll buy you one of those treadmills that makes you think you're walking in nature."
You chuckle, and he grins at how he finally got you to laugh. Your eyes move over to Yunho, your smile slipping slightly.
Ever since they've arrived, he's been off. He was all smiles until his eyes flicked over your figure, moving from your necklace to your home. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and sat on the couch, saying nothing else. Wooyoung didn't notice the change in his attitude, too worried about you. But whatever upset him, you just hoped it wasn't you. He didn't even laugh at any of your cheesy jokes or crack one of his own. Does he think that you're lying about how okay you are? Does he know that you're hiding something without saying it?
You've been on edge the whole time because of him, waiting for him to finally snap and say what he has to say. But he's kept his lips shut, staring ominously into the muted TV.
"Alright well Yun and I have a date later, but just text us if you need anything, alright? We're just a phone call away!" He hugs you quickly before pulling on Yun's shoulder. He stands, and you almost scream as his eyes meet yours.
They're completely black, filled with nothing. But he blinks and it's gone, as if you just imagined it. Yunho breaks out into a smile, different from his quiet behavior only moments ago.
"Take care of yourself, alright? Don't get into any trouble." He says the last word with a bit of anger, and you nod, letting the both of them walk out. As they shut the door behind them, you lean on the counter, eyes unfocused.
No. It was just a trick of the eye. It's not possible for him to have black pupils. You push away your silly thoughts, trying to think coherently. He's been your best friend ever since you were a child. Whatever you think you saw, it isn't true. You keep on telling yourself this, scrubbing the plates with much more vigor.
-
"Tell me more about Humans. Do you have lifelong mates, are there people you are destined for?" Yeosang asks as he watches you type on the computer.
You sigh, "No. Well, it's not like our bond. People sometimes choose someone to spend the rest of their lives with, and it's not fate or destiny. They go through problems, some may have multiple people they love. It just depends on how their life goes, ya know?"
You don't hear anything from him, and you continue to concentrate on the words in front of you. He seems to get the picture, moving away from you and walking around your room. You don't see him stop on your drawer, don't hear him opening the top one because of your immense concentration on your work.
Yeosang brushes his fingers on the fabrics, obviously your undergarments. His hands reach deeper, something solid touching the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out slowly, a large pink cock standing in front of him. He feels his face flush as he stares at it. Do Humans... pleasure themselves this way? He pokes it, a faint smell of your pheromones coating the outside. He quickly drops it into your drawer, slamming it with such might that you jump in your seat, turning around to look at him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Pink cheeks and red ears greet you back, and your eyes move to the drawers behind him. You think about what you have in there, panic immediately reaching your eyes.
"Just... Don't look at people's stuff, alright? And haven't you lived for several millenniums? The first thing that you should've learned was privacy!" You hiss, and he nods, bowing quickly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you pleasure yourselves—"
"Stop! Stop, please don't make this more embarrassing than it already is."
He nods, and you turn back to your desk. Your eyes can't seem to concentrate on the task, and you throw your head to the desk in frustration. Yeosang moves back over to you, concern about his features.
"Why do you do things that upset you?" He asks softly. "Isn't it better to do more calming activities? I have seen you stressed since I've arrived, and that will only decrease your lifespan."
You can't help but pout, "I love my job. I just hate when I can't figure out how to edit something with better words. And I need money, Yeosang. Nothing comes easily in life."
He shrugs at that. "I live in the mountains with what nature provides. The only use of money to me is a way to start my fire. But I do see how focused Humans are on it. It's a major reason why you all suffer so greatly. You should look back to your ancestors and see that the simple life is best. But barely any of you know how to start a simple fire without the use of your tools."
He glances at your computer, hands crossed against his chest. "You stared at that for so long, you don't even realize that three hours have gone by." He glances at the time on your clock. "Would you like me to make something for you?"
You frown. "You don't even know how to work the oven, why would I let you near my kitchen?"
His lips lift up into a smirk, showing the ever elusive dimples in his cheeks. "I'll bring you to my home. Something is already cooking."
You think about the last time you were there, his eyes locked on yours as he struggled to hold himself together. Hands digging into his kitchen counter as you basically ran out, your leg straining in pain as you made your way down the mountain. You were terrified at the time; a bit of you still is, even if he's your mate.
"I won't hurt you," he says softly. "I can feel the change in your temperature, and hear the way your heart beat changes. I can't read your thoughts, but from this I know enough. I won't hurt you," he repeats. "That was my dragon out of control. It's never experienced a scent like yours before, but I've controlled it. And it won't dare to hurt you, it wants to only protect."
He rubs his forehead. "This... All of this is complicated. There's so much to explain to you, but I'm not sure if you'd like to hear it." His words are coming out in soft whispers, unexpected from such a vocal being like him. But he's nervous, hands shaking slightly as he pulls on his hair. You've grown to notice that it's a nervous habit of his.
"Let's go to your home," you say, and he visibly brightens up at your words. "And I don't think you'll do anything to hurt me. I trust you."
You trust him. His lips twitch, wanting to curve into a smile. But he's so scared of frightening you away that he only nods, not noticing your shoulders drop a bit at his dry reaction.
"We should leave soon, then. Before it gets dark out."
-
You still make him nervous when you're with him. The smell of you stuck in the air, whiffing around his small home. He keeps quiet though, checking and tasting his soup frequently. He's not sure what you like; salty or sweet, spicy or mild. It makes him panic a little, hoping that he satisfies you.
You sit in the living area, eyes on the fireplace flickering. His eyes trail along your exposed skin, landing on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He's been wanting to mark you as his since he's found out, but easing you into this is what's best. You don't know anything about him, and tying you to him that way will only break you two apart. Resulting in him being more broken than he already is.
It's hard, he wants to tell you everything, from his birth to now. Everything that he knows about dragons, wanting to see your eyes shine with curiosity at his words. But he holds himself in, not wanting to overstep. You're loud and blunt, you'll tell him when he's doing something wrong. He tastes the stew once more, nodding in satisfaction.
"You know," he looks at you, and you're turned back, smiling at him. "You don't have to make the stew perfect. As long as it's edible, I couldn't care less about the flavor."
"I just finished." He grabs a wooden bowl, thinking back to how only a couple of weeks ago, you were with him. Same scenario, but this time your leg is fine. The healing water, or cleaning liquid, that he poured over it, helped. He still hasn't told you about the small trick that he did, but that's for another time.
He takes two bowls and spoons, and walks over to you, trying his best to not trip. He's clumsy, he knows that. He passes the bowl to you and you thank him. He sits across from you, watching as you take the first bite into his mouth. You say nothing for a moment, face and body motionless.
"Is it too salty? I can add more water—"
"Yeosang, if you told me you were such a good cook I'd ask you to cook for me all the time!" You say, your face bright. "What the fuck! This is some Gordon Ramsay, some Bobby Flay type shit! It's amazing!"
He sighs in relief, sipping his slowly. "I'm glad you like it, y/n."
Your smile twitches. Your name falls off his lips easily, making your whole body shiver.
"You never said my name." You say softly. "To be honest, I thought you didn't know it. But you finally said it, so we're getting somewhere, right?" You say, and he nods.
"Yes."
You hold the hot chocolate in your hand, sitting closer to the fire. It has to be past midnight, your soft whispers echoing around the room. You two have talked about everything; from your rocky relationship with your family to your friends. He talked about his family life as well, and how much he loves the forest.
"What kind of dragon are you?"
"I control agriculture and water. That's why I keep my home so close to it, I can feel everything. I could even feel when you and your friend fell in. The water is connected to me in such a way that if I concentrate on it, I can feel the sea life that lives in its depths. And when the forest breathes, I do. Everything is connected," he puts his hand on the ground, closing his eyes.
"Can't you feel it?"
His smile grows on his face, and you stare in awe. He's showing you his true self; the sharpness of his canines and the beautiful lift of his cheeks. Eyes closed into small crescents and skin glowing with the flickering of the fire. You've never seen him so relaxed, free of woes and anxiety. It's a beautiful sight.
"Do you feel it, y/n?" This time his eyes are open, resting on yours. It's not a lust filled gaze, not emotionless. It's filled with... something you didn't expect to see.
Care.
"Yes, I can." You say, the double meaning behind your words apparent. He smiles softly, looking to the floor.
"It's not proper for you to stay at a dragon's home, but I cannot let you go back down the mountain at this time of night. Not that you won't be with me, which you will, but there's too much danger when it's the night. I would prefer it if you stayed here." He scratches the back of his head. "Ah, but I only have one bed. I can sleep on the couch while you rest there."
You place your cup on the stump coffee table, shaking your head quickly. "I can't just take over your bed."
"I'm not letting you stay in the living area, y/n." He says, not leaving room for protest. "There's spare clothing in my room, and there's running water as well. Please, take as long as you'd like. I'll wait for you to finish."
You purse your lips, and he raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to challenge him. But you're too exhausted to give a hint of your usual sass so you nod, standing up.
"My room is the last door to the right. And the bathing area is right across from it." He says, grabbing your cup and walking into the kitchen. You watch him for a moment before following where he tells you to go.
You push the door open to his room slowly, peeking inside. You aren’t sure what you expected; but this isn’t what you think a bachelor pad would look like. His room has shelves of books everywhere, some in languages you can’t even pinpoint. The earthy smell of Yeosang swirls around the room, and you take it in, the scent comforting. Scattered papers lay across his desk, but you ignore all of them, walking to his closet and peeking inside. It’s lined with mostly dark colors, so you grab whatever pops in front of your face before closing it quickly. A small thought dawns on you.
You don’t have any underwear.
Your eyes flick to the drawer in the corner, but you shake your head. Nope. Even if he’s your mate, he’s still a complete stranger and going through a stranger’s things is a no-no. You quickly walk out, shutting the door behind you. Going commando is a thing, and you’ll embrace it! You glance into the living area before going into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
-
Yeosang sits on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. He can hear the scolding of his brothers in his head right now, telling him that this is a bad idea, being alone with you. Telling him that he should have rejected you long ago; that his presence in your life will only make it harder for him to resist you. Because technically, you aren’t his. Not until his marks cover you.
A small knock on his door makes him tense up. He’s been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear the pitter patter of his elder brother coming to see him. He walks in without a care, glancing around the open space before staring at Yeosang. He hasn’t dropped his glamor, eyes still the solid human brown. He frowns at Yeosang, closing the door behind him.
“Why have you brought her here again? Didn’t the others tell you how dangerous it is? You might hurt her, or worse. I thought you out of everyone would understand the risk.”
“I thought you would understand, since your partner right now is a Human. You’ve been around her for longer than myself and haven’t hurt her. Saying that I will is hypocritical.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “You haven’t spent time with Humans in centuries. You find them revolting, you actively avoid their presence. And yet with y/n, you seem to do the complete opposite of what you usually do. Is this really because of Mother?”
Yeosang nods, but stops himself. “No. This is not only because of her. Yunho, I care about y/n. I do. She is different, much more different than the Humans I am used to. I don’t want to see her gone, not yet.” He mumbles. He can’t help but yearn for you, even when you’re still showering, oblivious to the conversation the two of them are having. “And you shouldn’t be here, anyway. You haven’t told her who you are, it’ll upset her when she finds out.”
“And I never was going to tell her, Yeosang. But, you messed everything up,” He growls in frustration. “All of the glamor I put on them, all of the backstory that I’ve made up so that she believes that we grew up with one another, you ruined it.”
“Just tell her!” Yeosang hisses. “y/n can take it. As well as Wooyoung.”
Yunho growls at the mention of his lover’s name, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing.
“She trusts you, and maybe her trust will sway a little, but in the end the two of you have been best friends since she was a child. You’ve spent more time with her than me, she won’t push you away.”
“You don’t know that,” Yunho confesses. “I care about y/n, more than you can ever know. I’ve had no problem with Humans since the beginning. I’ve seen the good nature in them, I’ve seen the destructive nature in them. I have seen them rejoice at their best and fall at their worst. y/n is a pure soul, and there are already very few. But with you… her soul will be tainted. And I don’t want that for her.”
“Mother wouldn’t make her my mate if it would have destroyed her soul.”
“I would agree if Mother wasn’t too occupied with other worlds to focus on ours. She doesn’t just have us as sons, Yeosang. Why do you think we rarely see here within a millennia? We aren’t her favorites, we are one of the first ones she’s created and abandoned. She won’t care about who she made our mates, or the outcome of it. She only cares about her most respected sons, the ones who can control whole planets on their own, not just elements.”
Yunho looks outside for a moment. “She couldn’t even think of one for me. She made me in charge of darkness. All I do is make the moon rise. You hold Earth’s waters in your hands. Mingi holds sunlight at his fingertips, Seonghwa controls the air we breathe and San controls fire. And I, darkness.” He looks at Yeosang, face solemn. “I am telling you this because y/n is more important to me than many things in this world. And I don’t want to be the one to console Wooyoung when you can no longer control the dragon within you, and hurt her in some way. And this isn’t me being a pessimist, this is me being realistic. Face it Yeosang, you aren’t capable of taking care of y/n the way you want to. You don’t even know what cell phones are.”
He sighs, pushing stray hairs from his face. “Just think about this more, alright? Don’t make a decision based on what Mother says, make it based on what’s in your head and heart. More so your head, because your heart only has that dragon controlling it.” He grumbles, taking one last look at the bathroom that you’re in before stepping out.
Yeosang watches him go, biting his lip, his arms still crossed against his chest. “Nice to see you after a few centuries too, Yunho.” He utters.
-
You wrap yourself in Yeosang’s blankets, the smell of him wrapping around you. You could hear Wooyoung and Yunho right now, screaming at you for even stepping outside your house without letting them know. Woo will probably combust from so much anger, Yun having to pick up the pieces from the floor. You puff, letting out a stressed breath. This is a bad idea. This is a really fucking, shitty ass bottom of the bottle, terrible idea.
Even though it’s almost 3am, you can’t even fall asleep. Your eyes won’t dare to shut no matter how much you squeeze them together. You’re not sure if it’s from nervousness or if you’re waiting for Yeosang to knock on your door and say something. You let out a low groan, pushing your blankets off of you and staring at the ceiling.
A mirror stares back at you, and you yelp, on the verge of screeching at your bed head staring back at you. What in the living hell? Why does he have a mirror? Does he watch himself sleep?? Is it a kinky thing? You gasp, staring at the sheets underneath you. Has he? On these sheets? You throw yourself out of the bed, paranoia running through your bones.
What the hell is going on with you? You’re pretty sure you’ve slept completely fine on Wooyoung’s sheets, even though he was known as the sex freak throughout your time as his coworker before he flipped his shit. You rub your face, small whimpers falling from your lips. All you want to do is sleep and yet here’s your mind, throwing water at you and saying no way.
A small knock on your door makes you jump, eyes flicking to the small crack.
“It’s Yeosang. Do you mind if I come in?” he asks softly, and you nod, before realizing that he can’t see you.
“Yes,” you mumble.
He pushes the door open slowly, looking at the bed. His shining eyes move to you curled up on the floor, curiosity in his gaze. But he doesn’t ask, sitting in the chair several feet away from you.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I usually don’t have much of an issue on most nights, but my eyes don’t want to close.”
You laugh, a breathy one barely escaping your lips. “Probably because I’m here,” You say, looking away from his gaze, not wanting to see him nod in agreement. “I can still leave, you know. I have a flashlight on my phone and walking down won’t be too bad…”
He snorts. “I’m not letting you walk alone at this time, and I can’t sleep because… Because now that you’re here, my dragon, no, I want to rest next to you.” You don’t lift your head, and he wonders if he offended you in any way, so he quickly cleans up his words. “Being on the couch is fine, I have no issues with that. I can sleep anywhere. But with you here, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without you being close to me.” He admits, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I think being honest is best. You… can kick me out any time, I won’t be offended.”
You’re not, not at all. Instead, you feel your chest flutter with the possibility of Yeosang holding you close, his head resting on top of yours, your back against his chest as he presses his lips to your temple and you both fall asleep.
“I want you.” You say simply.
You don’t see the way his face turns pink at your words, ears burning red. You quickly realize what you’ve said, and you backpedal quickly.
“I mean! Haha, I was saying that I want to sleep with you, in the same bed. Like, because we’re tired, not the other,” You throw your head back in frustration. “This is so embarrassing.”
He laughs, and you enjoy the sound. “No, I get what you mean. I want to do that. We should do that.”
You stand up, crawling back underneath the covers. Yeosang follows your lead, lifting up the covers and sliding underneath. Your warmth compared to his cool skin gives you a different feeling. You stare at the ceiling, eyes on him. He met yours, a small smile on his lips.
“You can’t fall asleep with your eyes open,” he says simply, and you snort, turning your back to him. He laughs, and you feel him slide, his back to you as well.
You stay like that for a few minutes, and you know what you want. You’re an adult, all you have to say is-
“Do you mind if I hold you?” he whispers, his body turning to you. A small yes escapes you, and he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you against him.
His chest rests against your back, rising and lifting slowly. Your feet press against his legs, and he basks in their warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist, face in your hair. He takes this moment to breathe you in, your smell surrounding him. His skin is several degrees colder than yours, and the dragon in him tries its best to pull you as close as possible, without hurting you.
Your eyes flutter close, comfort quicker than before. Yeosang mumbles a soft goodnight into your ear, and you whisper it back. Your trip to sleep land is quick.
-
The sun shining through the windows wakes you up in the morning. You squint, trying your best to blink away the night. It feels like weights are trying to keep your eyes closed, but you know it's probably midday, already too long to stay in bed. Your boss is probably endlessly calling you about your assignment for the week. You stretch your arms slowly, palms hitting a solid body. You almost scream, until you think back to last night.
You roll over. Yeosang is still fast asleep, his chest rumbling every time he exhales. His hair is a mess, covering most of his face. You reach out to push it away from his face, but you stop yourself, dropping your arm. He pulls you closer, and you yelp softly, your chest pressed against his. His eyes slowly open, looking down at yours.
"Good morning," You say softly.
He says nothing for a moment, eyes flicking between yours. He blinks slowly, breaths slow. His hands are pressing against your bare back, and you feel something, some thing hard against your stomach. He nuzzles his nose against your forehead, sniffing softly.
You push your hands against his chest, and he tenses up. "Time to go back, yes?"
He quickly lets go, leaning up in bed. He looks at you, glancing down at you wearing his clothes, face darkening. "I need to use the bathroom." He stands quickly walking out and not ever looking back.
You glance down, seeing your nipples perked, on display for the world to see. Now you feel your face warm as you look around the room for your bra. You usually sleep with the bare minimum on, so you're glad he didn't barge in when you were getting dressed. Wearing the same underwear twice in a row is gross, and going commando once in a while couldn't hurt. But you're in his home, wearing his clothes. You slap yourself, grabbing your bra from your dirty clothes pile and quickly putting it on before he walks back in.
You think back to last night, his cool hands wrapped around your waist, soothing in the early morning. If this happened a couple of weeks ago you'd freak, demand that he bring you back home and you'd never see him again. But you like the way he feels, hands oddly soft for a man his size. Pressed lightly against your bare stomach, never traveling lower. Lips pressed against your neck, tongue—
Your hand flicks up to your neck, and you quickly look in the ceiling mirror. Nothing's there, and you sigh in relief. And a bit of disappointment, but you'd rather deal with those feelings by yourself later.
"The bathroom is ready," Yeosang says, not daring to step in the room. I've left a fresh pair of clothing. I don't grow, so everything is my size. And I've realized that..." His face is completely red now. "I don't have any new underwear to give you, since I don't wear any. I'm sorry about that."
You try to keep your eyes on his, not daring to flick down. No, you're being good. Definitely not imagining what he looks like with those pants off. Nope, not at all. Yeosang sniffs, and backs away slightly.
"I'll be in the living room. You can come whenever you're ready, and then we can go back to your home."
He walks away, leaving the door wide open. You scratch your head, grabbing your things and bolting to the bathroom, not daring to even take a glance into the living area.
-
His fingers are gripping his thigh so tight, hard enough to tear. He tries to keep his thoughts empty, but all he can think of is holding you in his arms, his dragon so close to your neck, so close to making you his. Yunho is right; he isn't ready for this. He isn't ready for you, and he's not sure if he'll ever be. You're so delicate, so alive and warm and Human, the complete opposite of him. He's cold, his heart pumps blood but it's useless, he can't die. You're a Human, and he's a dragon.
And nothing will change that.
But he can't stop thinking of how your body curves into his, how you're the perfect size for him to wrap around. How he loves how soft you are under his touch, how you smell. Why are you so enticing, so beautiful and fragile? Yeosang looks at the floor, straining his dragon. He's barely holding himself back. He can't do this anymore. He can't see you anymore, not like this. Not even as friends.
He doesn't want to say it out loud, but after today, he won't be coming back to you. He'll move his home away, in another forest far enough away that you wouldn't look. But close enough that if you're in danger, he'd be able to get there at a moment's notice.
Don't. His dragon whispers to him. This decision will only hurt more. It will hurt us being away from her.
He shakes off the voice, keeping his thoughts rational. No, nothing can change his mind. Nothing.
You walk into the living room, seeing Yeosang stare off into the forest outside. He looks back at you, his eyes a darker brown. Different from the beautiful blue you're used to looking into.
"Yeosang, your eyes—"
He nods. "In case we stumble into Humans hiking. It's better to make myself look like them, so that I don't have to deal with the aftermath. Are you ready to go?" He doesn't seem fazed by you wearing his clothing, eyes calmer than you've ever seen them. You nod, and he walks outside, you follow close behind.
He says nothing to you, despite your long talks from only hours ago. Yeosang keeps several feet ahead of you, ears probably listening to your every movement. You’re not sure what happened over the course of these few hours, but you can’t help but feel worried. Did you do something to bother him? Did it bother him that you accepted his offer so easily? Did you offend him when you were talking last night?
You stumble over a rock, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to glance back. “Be careful of your footing,” He says.
"Did I do something?" You ask after about a half hour of walking. He shakes his head, but doesn't give you a verbal response. Your irritation rises as he keeps his back to you, not even bothering to acknowledge you with a look.
"Is it because you think I'm easy or something? Or did I offend you with something I said last night?"
He shakes his head again, and you stop in your spot. No. You're not going to do this wordless answering anymore. Yeosang sighs, staring straight forward.
"The sun won't be in the sky all day, y/n. It's best to move quickly so that you're safe in your home."
"I won't move until you look at me and tell me what's wrong so we can fix this."
He looks back at you, his lips tight. His eyes are cold, the beautiful warmth from mere hours ago gone from his face. It's like you're a stranger, nothing to him. He pushes a stray strand, tucking it behind his ear.
"It's nothing."
"It's something, or you won't be treating me like shit."
"If you stopped acting so entitled, then maybe you won't feel that way." He hisses, the blue slightly breaking between the brown contacts.
"Excuse me? Me, entitled? You're the one that brought me to your house, kicked me out and then banged on my door, humping it like a dog in heat. And then you barged into my home unannounced, basically on your knees to be my friend. And then you say that I'm your mate. And you're telling me that I'm entitled? When all I've done is accept you when I’ve wanted to push you away. I even believed that you’re a dragon! I didn't even question it!"
You're sick of it, sick of this hot and cold, this warmth and bittersweetness. You just want him to accept you as you are, and not push you away. You just want him to tell you what's wrong.
He stares at you. "All of you Humans are the same. Valuing your lives above everyone else's. Not admitting your mistakes, blaming it on everyone except yourself. You are the one who grabbed Yeouiju from the ground. You are the one who took it away. You started this all, and yet you continue to blame it on me."
The anger emits from your body as you stare at him blaming this all on you. Fuck him, fuck all of this! You storm past him, too tired to give a rat's ass about what he has to say. He grabs your arm, stopping you.
"Didn't you want to know why I'm annoyed?" He asks, and you push him away. He resists, and you struggle against his grip.
"You know what, Dragon? I don't give a fuck why you're mad. Because I've done absolutely nothing but accept you as you are, I've cared for you and all I get back is anger and you continuing to push me away after you open up. I'm tired, I'm tired of playing these games with you. I've never hated someone as much as I do you." You pull again, and this time, you stumble back.
But he doesn't reach for you, letting you fall to the ground. You struggle to your feet, ignoring the dirt that sticks to your clothes. No, his clothes. Yeosang opens his mouth, but you hold one finger up.
"Yeosang, I thought this was going to be something, you know? I thought you were going to accept me being a Human and you being a Dragon. I thought we were going to learn about one another and one day... One day ..."
He knows what you want to say. He desperately waits for the word to fall from your lips, but you shake your head again.
"Don't follow me. I can make it back on my own without your help."
You continue down the mountain, cursing at yourself for believing that he'd never hurt you, that he cares about you. You hope that you can forget what he told you last night, his silent plea for you to care for him completely vanishes from your mind. Your tears stain your cheek as you walk down, but you don't dare to wipe them.
Yeosang's eyes follow your figure, until you completely disappear from your view. He can adjust his sight to watch you go back home, but it'll only be more painful for him. He clenches his fingers, claws digging into the flesh. This is the best way. You, hating him and thinking that he no longer cares for you. It's the only way to keep you safe, he thinks. It's the only way that he can assure you won't come looking for him.
He takes a deep breath, before turning back and walking back home.
-
Wooyoung sees how slow you walk around your kitchen, the bright you he's used to gone. He's not sure what's happened in the past few days, but he doesn't pressure you to say it. You're still writing and editing, so it's nothing with your job. Yunho, even with his endless jokes, doesn't crack a smile on your face. You only nod although, downing your fifth coffee of the day.
"I'm worried about her," Wooyoung says. "She's not herself. y/n always gets into slumps, but nothing this severe. She won't even push us away and never rejects our invitations to stay over. She hates when we're here longer than necessary, Yun." Wooyoung says softly, ear listening to the clicking of you typing on your computer. You keep your headphones in usually, but he wants to make sure you're not listening.
"She even leaves the house, and she never leaves the house. I mean, I've never seen her cupboard so full of crap. It's like she's here, but not. Not really."
"I know." Yunho replies, eyes on your door. Wooyoung can't see, but he can. He can see as your fingers shakes as you type, eyes unfocused. It's you desperately trying to hold on to what you have left, and he knows it's his fault. He frowns softly.
This isn't how it is supposed to be. You're supposed to welcome Yeosang being out of your life, free of the danger that is him. But it seems to only take a toll on you. And there's only one person he can ask about what to do.
Mother.
"Woo, want to stay here for a bit? I'm going to buy us some dinner and I'll be back."
Wooyoung nods at his words, biting his lip in nervousness. Yunho pecks it quickly before standing up, walking out the door. He parks the car a ways away from the property, before closing his eyes. He looks up at the stars, finally locating the one he wants to talk to.
"Hi Mother. I have an issue I need to solve. It's Yeosang, and his mate."
-
Two days go by. Then a week. Then a month. You hike up the mountain, eyes desperately looking for a glimpse of him. But the other side of the river is empty, Yeosang's cottage long gone. You fall to the grass, sobs rocking through you. You don't even feel him with you, our chest void of Yeosang. You never thought that not seeing him would make you feel this way. Like the world ended.
But you tried to move on. You let Yunho and Wooyoung over to your house often, their hilarious behavior letting out small smiles from you. Even if they're a bit strained. Wooyoung noticed the change of behavior in you. He tried to interrogate you about it, but what could you say? It's not like you were in a relationship with him; no, he is, was, just a friend of yours. And even saying that is a stretch. But how can you explain that you feel like your heart is shattered into dozens of pieces, unable to glue back together?
So all you tell him is that you're fine. That it must be the change of seasons, that's all. And he believes you, at least for now. And Yunho, you know that he can see through your facade. He can see how broken you are, although he doesn't say it. But he's over at your home more often than Wooyoung is, cooking for you and reminding you to leave your house often. And you're glad to have someone like him so close to you, someone who's been with you your whole life and won't disappear on a whim.
-
Yeosang sits on his couch, so interested in his sewing that he hasn't noticed all of his brothers arriving in his room, staring at him. Even for an immortal, they have to nourish themselves. Yeosang feeds on sunlight but he hasn't left his home in so long. His cheeks are beginning to look hollow, his eyes losing the steady light that always shined brightly. The tanned dragon is slowly turning gray.
"You can't keep on doing this, it's draining you." Mingi says, tapping him. "I've never seen an immortal close to death, but you look like it. You're losing your shine, Yeosang. Your hair is falling out. You need to go outside."
Yeosang shakes his head. "I don't need to control water and plants from outside. All I have to do is flick my wrist, and they'll be fine."
"Stop acting like a child, it's like you've lost someone," Seonghwa grumbles, and he sees him stop in his sewing for a moment, before continuing. "Wait, when was the last time you've seen y/n?"
"It doesn't matter."
They all exchange looks, before their eyes land on Yunho. Yunho says nothing, staring at his younger brother. He's never seen Yeosang so frail, so weak. He rubs his face. This isn't what he wants. He wants you to be safe, he wants Yeosang to learn how to interact with Humans before becoming your mate. But hiding out in this cottage? Not saying anything to anyone for months at a time?
"What did you say to him?" San shakes his head. "Even we didn't interfere with how he and y/n interacted. You should know better than to involve yourself with mates. You know what happens if they're separated for too long."
"She's not my mate," Yeosang says softly. His voice is a bit scratchy from not talking for so long. "We didn't complete the marking. She is still free to live her life. To be unrestricted."
"That's not how it works, Yeo," Yunho finally says. "That's how our species mates, yes. But you both, you are soulmates. Lost in their creation, and split in two. And when you met, they finally lived in harmony. But when you separate them like this, it will only slowly kill you. You have to stay with your other soul." He looks at Yeosang, reaching out and stopping his hand from moving.
"I said those things about you out of anger. Your soul won't hurt her, it's destined to protect her. To protect her soul. Yes, you have to beware of your dragon, for he is fearsome. But that is all you have to worry about. y/n is yours, you two are meant to be."
"That's why, when San and I finally visited y/n, we knew. We saw how entwined your souls were, and we vowed to never try to separate you two. Seonghwa did as well, but it seems like Yunho didn't get the message," Mingi glares at the eldest. "But you have to go back to her. Her soul is yours, and yours is hers. Please just fix this."
Yeosang scoffs, pushing his hand away. He runs his fingers through his overgrown locks, hair in serious need for a wash. He thinks back to how he cut the ties with you, left you walking down the mountain alone, not even daring to look back. You're better off without him now.
"Mother told me." Yunho says, seeing the resistance in Yeosang's face. "She told me what happens when you're separated from your mate and reject them."
Seonghwa shakes his head. "This is why you shouldn't have involved yourself, Yun. Mind your business next time, like the rest of us."
"There's no use arguing about it," Mingi says softly. "Yeosang will make his decision, and that's it. We will respect it and move on. But let's give him some time alone." He looks at how pained his brother looks, and hates that they were a primary cause of it. "I'll see you in a bit, yes?" He pats Yeosang's shoulder, walking out.
San says nothing, following close behind. Seonghwa already disappeared into thin air, a bit ironic since he controls it. Yunho is the last one left.
"Go." Yeosang says simply. "I'll figure this out, but you need to leave. I know you wanted what was best for both of us, but you made a mistake, and now we have to suffer because of it."
Yeosang looked at him, the blue faded. "Give me some time."
Yunho nods. "If it makes it better, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to get this far." He turns, walking out the cottage and closing the door behind him.
Yeosang slowly puts his materials away, thoughts consumed with you. You standing on the other side of the river, sobs reaching him as he watched you, too terrified to tell you that he never left. That he just hid his home from you. That despite Yunho's warnings he couldn't bear to leave you alone, not without being close enough to feel your presence.
He grabs his dirty plates off his small wooden table, tossing them into the sink so roughly a few break from impact. He leans over the small sink, staring down at the shards decorating the bottom. He's rejected the idea of you for so long, he doesn't know what it means to finally accept you for who you are. If he's true to himself, he has pushed you away even before Yunho told him to. He didn't like the idea of you and expressed it vehemently to you whenever he was given the chance. Now, his dragon is finally content in his chest, accepting you fully.
He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Now all he has to do is see if you're willing to love him back.
-
You bang your fist on your keyboard, groaning. All of that progress, all of the hard work and dedication you put into editing is gone. Washed down the drain of the internet, never to be seen again. The document somehow deleted since the last time you looked at it, only the first draft sitting on your desktop. You're too exhausted to even complain about it, needing coffee more than anything else.
But you don't have coffee. You rub your neck, hands landing on the rock necklace that graces your throat. You touch it softly, before reaching back and taking it off, tossing it in a small drawer in your desk. You don't need it, you don't need him. But you don't have the heart to throw it away. You glare at the drawer one last time, before grabbing your bag, leaving him behind.
-
Yeosang washes his hair quickly, the hot water not enough to scrub away his regrets. He steps out of the shower, glancing at himself in the mirror. He looks exhausted, eyes void of emotion and cheeks a bit sickly. He touches his facial hair, growing a small beard from not shaving. He eyes the razor in the corner of the sink.
Should he trim it? Perhaps you'll like the beard on his face, different from the dragon you're used to. He grabs it, and the scissors, trimming it low enough to leave a shadow, but not all the way down. He already trimmed his hair in the shower, still long enough to tuck it back into a bun if he wanted to. He brushes it back, before he feels the fingers throb.
He stares down at them, seeing the glow rise. You took off the necklace. His heart drops, mood immediately anxious. Did you not listen to him? You needed to keep it on when he's not around you, he won't be able to protect you all the time—
He grabs his sweats, not bothering to dry himself off completely. You couldn't have gone that far.
-
You stare at the prices of vegetables, frowning. Did they increase them somehow? You haven't shopped by yourself in forever, but were they always this expensive? You glare at the outside of the pepper, rubbing it slightly. It's too shiny for your liking, probably filled with nasty pesticides and other gross things to make them look this way. You groan, throwing it back into the pile. You should have stolen some from Yeo— your friend's herb garden. Or maybe one day investing on your own. You have the acres, all you need to do is use them.
You grab the most natural looking one that doesn't have brown spots, and toss it into your basket. You don't notice the frantic look of a man who's just walked into the grocery store, eyes searching for only you.
You excuse yourself around a elderly couple, smiling at the woman as she scolds her husband for picking the item that's three cents more. It warms your heart to see older couples; thinking of what brought them together and how they're still together. Did they meet when they were in high school? Maybe in the middle of school dance? Or did they meet in college, eyes meeting one another across the library? Maybe reuniting after years of not being with one another, too scared to tell the other how they feel? Your mind runs through these scenarios, until your eyes land on a man not too far away from you.
If you didn't recognize the giant coat he loves to wear, you would have dismissed him. But the pumping of your heart in your ears, the dryness of your throat as your eyes land on him. He's talking to an employee of the store, eyes the cold brown you hate. He turns around, stopping in his words, and looks to you. You clutch your basket between your fingers, not daring to move as he nods at the employee once, before walking over to you. He's not that tall, you've seen taller, but he walks with purpose, head held high.
You snap out of your daze, placing your basket to the side and excusing yourself as you navigate through the people, walking out the door. No, he can't just show up again. Not after pushing you away with a stupid explanation, leaving you to deal with whatever is between you on your own. Your hand fumbles with the keys in your pocket as you jog to your car, chest rising and falling quickly.
You click the unlock button, glancing back and forth before crossing the street. You don't see the cyclist pedaling quickly, staring at his phone instead of what's in front of him. Before he gets too close, a hand yanks you forward.You shriek, falling forward into his chest. The man in the bike yells a quick apology before pedaling away, seeing the glare of Yeosang, seeping through the contacts he wears. You pull back away from him, dusting off your clothing before opening the door of your car.
Yeosang pushes on it, closing it back.You groan, rubbing your face in frustration.
"Why did you take off your necklace?" He demands, the first words to come out of his mouth since he left you.
Is that what this is about? A stupid rock necklace? "What? Did you want it back or something? I can give it back to you, just leave me alone."
He shakes his head in frustration. "No, y/n. It's not just a decorative item. It protects you when I'm not around. That is why I gave it to you. You cannot just throw it to the side."
You huff. "I don't need your protection. If I did, you wouldn't have left. You would have stayed, but you didn't. Please just let me go home, I don't need this right now. I want to be alone."
"Can you listen to me for five minutes? I can explain why I left if you'd just listen to me. Please." He tries to catch your gaze but you avoid his eyes.
No. You won't be pulled into this sob story of his again. You don't care about the balance of the world or his problems anymore. You've moved on. Just like he wanted you to. You pull on the door again, but he doesn't move his hand.
"You're not asking, are you?"
"I'm sorry," is all he says. "I just, I really need you to listen. We don't have to do it out here, we can go to your home—"
Absolutely the fuck not. Even him standing here is making you feel things you'd rather not. Being in your small home, his scent swirling around? You'd probably go more feral than you already are.
"Follow me," You press the lock on your car, marching over to a small bench. You sit down, gesturing for him to follow. He kept his distance, sitting as far away as he could. He looks at you, waiting. Waiting for your eyes to meet his, but you stare ahead, lips in a straight line. You're giving him little pull, but he accepts it. He hurt you, and still is. Even this small communication between you is more than he deserves.
"You already know about the mates thing and about me being a dragon."
A woman walks but raises her eyebrow and pulls her child closer, pace increasing.
"I didn't want to leave you. I didn't tell you, but one of my brothers came to see me the night you stayed at my home. He was concerned about my acceptance of you being a Human, and empathized that I hated Humans so much that it wouldn't work. That I'm not around them enough to be able to even comprehend how to care for one. That I will hurt you like one of the others did. And I was scared."
You play with the skin next to your fingernails, biting your lip. You never would've guessed that the big, bad dragon could be scared. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he's still looking at you. Gaze steady. Eyes sure.
"That's why I let you go. Made you believe that I wanted you gone, even though I wanted you to stay, I wanted to be there for you as much as I could. But I couldn't risk your life just for my pleasure of seeing you. I didn't want to do that. So I hide away from you. I saw you, when you walked back up the mountain. Crying when you saw my cottage gone." He looks down, feeling his eyes grow watery. He wipes it away, continuing. "I desperately wanted to run to you and say that I'd never leave you. But that would only lead down a bad path. At least, that's what I thought until recently."
"He told me that mates are more than that. That he made a mistake. My brother, Mingi, found his long ago even though he killed them by accident. He hasn't been the same since, and we weren't sure why. We thought it was grief, but it's so much more than that."
His eyes flick back and forth. "I don't know if this term is correct, but he phrased it as 'soulmates'. Two souls so entwined that whenever they separate for too long, or a rejection, they slowly die."
You finally turn to him. You see the fading of his beautiful hair, a slight beard covering his face. He reaches up, taking out his contacts. He looks at you, and you hold back your gasp. The beautiful blue you're used to seeing is faded, as if he's aged centuries in only a few months. You reach out, rubbing away a tear that falls without thinking. You pull back quickly, blinking quickly.
"I'm dying. And you're dying too, but it's not as obvious." His eyes flick around your face; from the deep bags underneath your eyes to the lifeless hair that you have pulled back from your face. You laugh dryly, shaking your head.
"Being tired doesn't mean I'm dying."
You say those words, but you believe him. Besides the last time you saw him, he's never lied to you. You feel the exhaustion sticking to your bones. But right when your eyes met his in that parking lot, things immediately felt lighter. The fluorescent lights in the shabby supermarket didn't burn as much. You were literally stuck in place as he walked up to you.
"I'm sorry." He says again. "I'm sorry for doing this to you, for pushing you away when I wanted you next to me. I can't stop thinking about you." He admits. "And I know you won't welcome me into your arms quickly, but I hope that we can start again, from the beginning."
You want to. You want to pretend that you don't want to do it desperately, but you do. You miss him, you miss the smile that he shows you, you miss the slight pout he makes when he's in deep thought, the slight widening of his eyes as he speaks about something he loves. You can't stop thinking about him, either. You nod.
"Okay, but no more secrets."
He closes his eyes. "What if the secret isn't mine to tell?"
You turn to him sharply. "There's something else? Yeosang, what the fuck? Are you a God or something now?"
He stares at you for a long minute, before throwing back his head in laughter. "I didn't tell you this, but Humans long ago used to pray to my brothers and I, giving sacrifices and holding ceremonies in our honor." He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. "I couldn't ever understand why. We were prevented from interfering, but why sacrifice to someone you cannot see or feel? And why do you think that we will accept that? It's a strange behavior." He cocks his head for a moment, shaking his head.
"You're avoiding my question," you narrow your eyes. "What's the secret?"
He purses his lips. "It would be best if you bring your friends Wooyoung and Yunho over to your home so that we may discuss it together. It's impossible for me to tell on my own."
"You need my friends to tell your secret?" You question, and he nods.
"It will be best if they are there, yes."
"And why does it need to be in my house? Can't we go somewhere in public?"
He sighs. "I have already been given strange looks as people heard my words walking by. I am supposed to keep my presence a mystery, and not show myself. But I am already out here in public, this only makes matters more dire."
You chuckle. This silly dragon. "No one would believe your words. I'll invite them, but I still need to go shopping." You stand, and he follows your movements. "Are you coming?"
He nods quickly.
-
He follows close behind you as you grab the basket you left, thankfully still in the same spot as before. You look around the aisles, nose wrinkling as his scent fills your nose. You’re still a bit annoyed with him, angry if you really think about it, so him being so close and copying your every movement slightly irritates you. You turn back, and he looks down at you.
“Have you forgotten what you wanted to get?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“No. But do you have to stand so close? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere,” You walk forward, the stomping of his feet echoing around the small store. If he’s any louder he’d break the tiles, you think.
Your eyes look for the sign for coffee, but before you could walk down, Yeosang brushes past you, eyes focused ahead. He picks up a small container and points it to you. A dragon covers the front of the box, one of the popular name brands you’re used to seeing. You see the slight pout grace his lips as he points at it.
“Dragons don’t look like this, why do Humans depict it this way?”
You shrug, “Probably because of how friendly it looks? No one wants a terrifying dragon on the outside of a box. Most things are made to look approachable, not scary.”
“But we don’t breathe fire, well, none of us but San,” He puts it on the shelf. “Humans long ago wouldn’t dare do such a thing. They cherished our presence, and would never defame us this way.”
He goes on and on about the treatment of dragons as you look through the varieties of coffee, hopefully finding the one you enjoy the most. Yeosang grabs something else, and before you could scold him for it, he hands you your favorite brand.
You raise your brows in surprise.“How’s you know?”
“Because it smells like you,” he says simply, grabbing another. “And I like how it smells on you. How many do you want?” He holds another in his hand, and you shake him away.
“Only two. Coffee isn’t that good for you, you know. And I love the caffeine, so I can’t get decaf,” you say, walking down the next aisle.
His eyes roam around the store in wonder, quickly tagging behind you whenever your smell fades. You wince whenever he bumps into a display or shelf, but admire him when he helps an older man pick something off a shelf. He complains about despising Humans constantly, but all you see is a clumsy, gentle man not so carefully guiding his way through the store with a slight smile on his face. Whatever his other brother said to him, you can’t believe it. No one that hated people this much could walk around you all with such a calm demeanor. He’s been hiding that he cares for so long, and you decide to ask him about that another time.
You put your items on the conveyor belt, Yeosang watching as the cashier slowly scans your items. He gives Yeosang an odd look but says nothing, telling you your total.
“I didn’t see you bring anything to trade,” he whispers. God, when was the last time he’s left the house? You pass the cashier the money as Yeosang stares in confusion as the currency is exchanged. You reach to grab the bags but Yeosang takes it from you, walking out the store.
“Paper? You give him paper in exchange for all of those goods? Is this how society is now?”
“When was the last time you got some fresh air besides today?” You ask him, and he thinks deeply.
“The last time I left was when people exchanged goods for goods. A cloth for a few tomatoes. Things like that.”
He hasn’t been outside in hundreds of years.
“How do you have all of those things in your house then? A shower, clothes, dishes?”
“My brothers bring me most things since they know how I feel about the Human world. And I make many on my own. Water freely runs through my shower because I control it. I don’t need the modern plumbing that you have in your home. As I told you before, there’s no reason for me to go outside since I can grow my own plants easily.”
“So water just appears out of thin air?” You can’t believe it.
He laughs as you open the door to your car, placing the bags on your backseat. He glances around the neighborhood, before holding up his hand. You feel a slight breeze as he points to his hand, slowly twirling his fingers. A small tornado appears in his hand, but instead of wind it’s a whirlpool, droplets of water spinning quickly. He watches as you stare at it in amazement. You reach your finger to poke it, and he stops, the water dripping into his hand, back into its normal state. He blows on it and it disappears into the air, as if he just didn’t make it come to him.
“All air has a bit of water in it. Since Seonghwa controls the air, he’s always frustrated when I do things like that, but yes. Water out of thin air.”
You grin widely. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”
A blush immediately covers his face, and you laugh. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you glance down, seeing the caller ID.
“Hey-”
“Why are you calling me to your house? And you said it’s an emergency? Why don’t you call the police and why are you being so vague?” Wooyoung spitfires the questions one after another, “I swear to the fucking hills, if you went into that forest again I’ll literally bury you myself. Eight feet under.”
You roll your eyes at him, knowing he can’t see it. “Can you relax for two seconds, please? So, do you remember that Dragon egg thing that we found in the forest?“
“We found? You mean you found, and irresponsibly brought into your home, not knowing anything about it and me finding out that it’s basically a mating egg-”
Yeosang pulls the cell phone away from you, placing it next to his ear. “Listen, Wooyoung, right?”
“Who in the living fuck-”
“We don’t have time for your antics. Listen to what y/n has to say, and come to her home. And as a clarification, it is not a dragon egg or a mating egg. It is Yeouiju, and it stays in my possession.” He hands the phone back to you, a triumphant look in his eyes.
You put the phone back to your ear, “Hey.”
There’s silence for a moment. “That’s the dragon, isn’t it?” He asks softly. “What the Hell have you gotten yourself into, y/n?”
“Just bring Yunho with you and come to my house in a few hours, alright? I’ll give you food and everything.”
“Alright,” You almost hit the end call button, but Wooyoung shrieks before you can. “Are you okay? I know he can probably hear me, but are you safe?”
You glance at Yeosang, and he’s staring off into the street, but you know he’s listening. The way his ear twitches when he hears himself being mentioned is proof enough. ”He won’t hurt me, I’m okay. See you later.” You hang up, unlocking the door to your car.
You gesture for Yeosang to enter, and he struggles for a moment, before finally swinging the door too wide and jumping inside. He slams it rather hard and you wince. He looks at you apologetically.
“It would be easier for me to bring the both of us back to your home,” He says, rubbing his neck. “That’s what wings are for.”
You gasp a bit too loudly, and he looks at you in concern. “So that night, I was right! You do have wings-! Wait, no, let’s deal with this later.” You turn on your car, glancing both ways before looking at Yeosang. He watches you, his head cocked.
“Put on your seat belt.” You say.
“What’s a seat belt?” You point to yours, and he looks behind him, seeing it resting inside the interior. He glances at you once more before yanking on it.
You hear a loud crack, and pray to the heavens that he didn’t break it. You peek over, seeing a large, gaping hole where the seat belt used to be. Your poor car, the only one that you’ve had since high school. Your baby. And he broke her.
He looks at you quickly, “Ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll fix it!” He reaches out to touch it, but you grab his hand, stopping him.
“No, no. It’s fine, just pretend that you have a seat belt and don’t jump out of the window. You’ll be fine. My car will be fine.”
You take one more look at the hole, a pained clench to your heart.
-
You finally get home after the long and quiet ride, Yeosang's eyes rarely leaving your face as you drive. You never felt more unsafe in this small car of yours, his hair brushing against the ceiling of your car, your hands sweaty against the wheel. He smiled whenever you made a snide comment at a terrible driver, glaring at them as you passed by.
"I've never seen you so furious. This is worse than when you're stuck at your computer." He mumbles, rubbing between your eyebrows. Your eyes flutter at his touch as he tries to rub away the frown lines. "There's much more things to worry about in life than incompetent carriages."
"Like," he leans forward, a smirk on his lips as you lean away, "A dragon in yours."
"Yea, yea. But from the time that I've met you to now, you're not as scary as before."
The smirk drops from his lips. He thinks for a moment, moving back. His eyes flick to you, before looking away.
"Did I scare you back then? I didn't realize how much of an impact it would have had on you, but I'm deeply sorry. That's not me; I won't ever do that again. Not when I'm clear-headed." He looks at you, a strained smile cracking his cool facade. "I won't hurt you."
"I already know that, Yeo. At least, physically." You get out of the car before he could ask more questions, already putting behind the months without talking to him. You're still a bit pissed about it, yes, but your mother always taught you that it's better for you to move on. No need to dwell on the bad things in your life.
Yeosang helps you carry the bags into your home, watching as you walk around the kitchen and put things away. Your phone vibrates, and you see that Wooyoung messaged you about being about fifteen or so minutes away. You run your fingers through your hair, looking up at Yeosang. He sits on the stool, staring at his hands.
"Is it that bad?" You ask softly. "That you need to bring my friends?"
His eyes look at you pitifully. "I wish I could explain it to you myself, but it's too close to home. It wouldn't be right for me to explain this story without them being here. They both... Need to be present in order for you to believe that it's true. Especially Wooyoung." He rubs his chin, the scratching of his hairs echoing around the kitchen.
You aren't one to care whether or not a man has a beard, but your eyes keep on trailing back to the nine o'clock shadow covering his cheeks, to the new piercings that cover his ear. Whatever happened these past few months; you know he's gotten more attractive. Even the aura around him seems more sure of himself, the fearful mate gone. Your eyes move to his lips, unconsciously licking your own.
"y/n?"
You snap out of it, eyes back on his. He looks at you in amusement, a playful look in his eyes. You clear your throat, and he points to the door.
"I believe your friends are here."
You nod, quickly walking over and throwing open the door. Wooyoung looks at you, hair a mess and a wary look in his eyes. Standing a couple of feet away from him is Yunho, the grin always stuck on his face. He looks as sharp as usual, probably just coming back from the hospital. Wooyoung walks in, Yunho squeezing your shoulder as he walks by, completely different from the cold shoulder he's been giving you for days.
Wooyoung looks at Yeosang sitting in the kitchen and freezes in his steps for a moment. Yeosang stands, holding out his hand to Wooyoung. Your friend takes it, his body trembling slightly.
"Pleasure to meet you," Yeosang rumbles. "I've heard a lot about you."
"And I've heard nothing about you," Wooyoung murmurs, glancing at you in silent anger. Yunho takes a step into the kitchen, eyes on Yeosang.
You notice the air tense up once they look at one another. The Yunho that greeted you at the door is gone, replaced with a solemn him. He nods at Yeosang, arms crossed against his chest. You shut the door behind you, walking and standing next to Wooyoung. You feel the anxiety emitting off of him and you rub his fingers slowly, trying to calm him down.
They continue to look at each other in silent thought, as if they're communicating without speaking. Yeosang seems to grow in frustration as he looks at Yunho, and you knock on the table, trying to get their attention.
"What the hell is going on?" You ask, glancing between the two. "Do you know each other?" Wooyoung scoffs, and you look at him. "What?"
“It'll be hard for brothers not to know each other, right?" Wooyoung murmurs.
Brothers.
You look at Yeosang. He takes in a breath, looking down in shame. You look over at Yunho and he seems to be more relaxed, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. Too relaxed, as if Wooyoung didn't just tell you this groundbreaking fucking news.
Your head pounds as you take it in, seeing the obvious tension between the brothers. Brothers. They're brothers. Yeosang is a dragon, so that means ...
"You're a dragon," you say softly, eyes watering as you look at Yunho. He drops the careless act, taking a step to you. Wooyoung pulls you close to him, ignoring the low rumble of Yeosang's chest as he presses himself against you.
It's not possible. You've grown up with one another, you spent your whole life next to Yun. He can't be.
"Don't do that," Wooyoung says. "Don't try that everything's okay bullshit. You've lied to her, you lied to the both of us. So drop the cocky attitude and say it like it is."
Yunho touches the edge of the counter, the island separating you and Wooyoung from the brothers. Humans from dragons.
"It's true. I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this, but I am like Yeosang. I am a dragon." He closes his eyes, before opening them.
A dark abyss stares back at you, completely different from the bright blue you love to see. His is empty, just an endless void. He turns to Yeosang, before looking back at you.
"I didn't want to lie—"
"Just stop with the excuses and tell the story, Yunho. We don't have all night for your nonsense. We've heard enough of that for a millennia," Yeosang interrupts. "Say it."
"Watch your tone," Yunho growls, and you feel the room shake slightly at his rise in tone. Yeosang doesn't flinch though, an exasperated sigh falling from his lips. Yun looks back and you and Wooyoung.
"When you were young, I found you alone in your home. Your parents abandoned you when you were only five earth years old. Left you behind in that shack. At the time, I was very wary of taking care of you. I thought about bringing you to a local shelter. So, disguised as a Human, I flew to a nearby one. I dropped you off on the steps, but before I could let you go, you called me by my name. My true name."
He smiles. "I couldn't have fathomed that a Human child would even be able to know that. And then, I looked at the shelter I was to leave you at, and I couldn't. So I raised you as my own. I was your mother and father, putting up a mask so that you'd never know. I was your friend as well, taking care of you every moment that I could. I didn't want you to have a bad life; so I raised you in a small town with people you'd know. Once you grew and left home, I didn't have to pretend to be your parents anymore. I kept the thought in your head that you recently saw them, so you wouldn't be tempted to go back."
"You... you manipulated me." You say. "You made me think I had parents, that I had this life when I was always alone."
Yunho shakes his head. "No, you had me. We had each other. You were never alone, y/n."
All through elementary, high school and college, he's been your only friend. At least, until you met Wooyoung. You've been friends with someone that's lied to you for your whole life. Your head is throbbing terribly, and you rub it slowly, trying your best to calm yourself down before you faint or have a breakdown.
"Are you alright?" Yeosang asks, and you look at him. Your eyes are bright red, your body trembling. He stands up, walking around the corner to you.
You don't bother complaining as he pulls you out of Wooyoung's arms, turning on the faucet and pressing his wet fingers to your forehead. You feel a slightly burst of heat before it gets cool, crawling across your forehead and soothing your throbbing headache.
Yunho looks at you in concern, knowing that if he gets closer to you, it'll only get worse. Yeosang bends over as he stares at you, waiting for you to tell him you're okay. You nod slowly, and he stares at you for a moment more before sitting back down in his spot.
"I'm sorry," Yunho says. "At the time, I didn't know how essential it was for Humans to be in contact with other humans, and for you to have someone other than me. I wanted you to have a good life, but it seems like I made it worse." You see the guilt ridden in his features.
"Everyday I wanted to tell you what I am. But, I couldn't. Humans shouldn't know about our existence. But since you are Yeosang's mate, and Wooyoung is my..." His eyes flick to Wooyoung, before he looks back at you. "We thought it would be best to tell you. I just wasn't sure when, until Wooyoung called me. I told him before this, that's why he's not that shocked to hear my words."
Yunho rubs his head, "And I am the one who insisted that Yeosang never see you. That you two should separate and never reunite. I thought it would be best, but as we've found out, I'm wrong."
Your head is spinning. Too much information thrown at you all at once. All of their eyes on you as you take it in, waiting for a response. But all you could do is nod and shake your head, that being painful enough. You know that Yeosang could smell and feel how you're doing, especially from the frustrated look in his eyes.
"This conversation is done," Yeosang says, turning to his brother. "y/n needs some time to think this over. Come back if she wants you to, but it's a lot of information for her to deal with. I know you wanted immediate action, but give her some time."
If you could jump over the counter and kiss him all over you would. But all you could do is give him a smile.
"Okay. Okay." Yunho looks at Wooyoung. "Would you like me to go home on my own?"
Wooyoung grips his keys in his hand, looking over at you. He presses his lips to your forehead, squeezing your hand slightly before turning to him.
"Let's go. We'll talk more about this on our way back. y/n?"
You look at Wooyoung, and you see the exhaustion in his eyes. It's hit him, not as dramatically and life changing as you, but still. He doesn't look like his happy go lucky self, bags under his eyes and hair wild on his head. You wish you could hug him and tell him it'll be okay, but you fear that if you open your mouth you'd just scream and cry. So you nod at him.
"I love you, you know that right?" He cocks his head. "And I'll kick his ass if you want me to." He glances over at Yeosang. "Call me or text me when you can."
He kisses your forehead once more before pushing past Yunho, who gives you one last sorrowful look before following after him. They close the door behind them, leaving you and Yeosang in silence.
Yeosang says nothing, the silence ringing in your ears. You feel the breakdown slowly build as you stand there, hands quickly rubbing against one another. The image of your mother is slowly disappearing, her wise words slowly morphing into Yunho's, his voice replacing hers. You never really thought about it, but your parents are a blur. You don't have pictures with them, your graduation pictures are selfies with Yun. Your whole life is a lie, no matter how you look at it.
Your breaths quicken, head throbbing. You hear Yeosang saying something, but your head spins, too overwhelmed to answer. You clutch the counter in front of you, eyes flicking back and forth.
“y/n!"
His voice rumbles around you and you look at him. He holds his face between your hands, rubbing your cheek lightly.
"Take slow breaths, in and out," His hand places yours on his chest, holding it there. "Follow the rise and fall of my chest, and do the same thing. In and out."
Your lips tremble as you try to follow his instructions. He feels your heart slowly go back to normal as he rubs your cheek. Your eyes are closed as he watches you for any signs of you beginning to faint. But you're listening attentively, despite your life crashing before you. You open them. He smiles at you, dropping his hands from your cheeks, the cool feeling gone. You're a bit better now, and you smile at him.
"Will it be okay?"
You ask with your eyes, willing him to understand. He holds out his arms, and you don't hesitate; falling into his embrace easily. His body surrounds you as you sob into his chest, his hands rubbing your back lightly. Your fingers dig into his back, a normal human would hiss at the grip but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. His lips are pressed into your hair as you shake in his arms. There's no words that could take the hurt and betrayal that you feel away, no matter how hard he thinks. He wants you to be okay, he wants to see the smile gracing your face again. So he says the only words he can.
"I'm here for you, y/n. I'm not leaving you. Not again."
-
You sit on the bench, staring at your laptop that rests on your lap. Yeosang insists that you get some fresh air, the air in your house too stale. You didn't want to; your home is so cozy and you can just open the windows. You used to love the outdoors, you spent most of your childhood outside. But after the revelation that Yunho dropped on you a few weeks ago, you didn't want it anymore. You know that all he wanted was for you to have a good life, but the way he manipulated you; you're not sure if you can forgive such an act. You close the computer, tossing it to the grass softly and stretching your body. You close your eyes as the sun beams down on you, the soft breeze comforting. You touch the necklace that rests on your neck again, wishing that Yeosang is here to enjoy the day with you.
After that night, he stayed true to his promise. You couldn't stay in your home, too familiar and too many traces of Yunho around you. So Yeosang brought you back to his, carefully taking care of you and letting you sleep on his bed alone. You missed the comfort of his cool body against your own, but he respected you, even when you whined for him to stay next to you. He didn't mind sleeping in the living room alone, although you noticed how he kept close to the fireplace.
As you stayed with him, you noticed a lot about him. He constantly wore layers, even in the summer sun. After prying a bit, he told you that the snake side of him craved warmth since he's cold-blooded. That's why his dragon wanted to stay close to you so often. That's why he always stuck close to you wherever you went. He craved warmth, soft rumbles in his chest each time you brushed against him or stood close enough.
You knew you were overstaying your welcome at his home, even though he insisted that you were not a stranger. That everything he owns is yours. Despite his intense flattery (you're sure you could heat up the whole country with how embarrassed you were), you decided to go back home.
The first step over the threshold threw you back to the terrible night. But you pushed past the negative feelings and cleaned. It took three full days, but you cleaned your whole home from top to bottom, a bit of a fresh start for you. Yeosang drops by often now, giving you the fresh vegetables he grew and not leaving for hours. He kept his promise, telling you that you're his friend, never bringing up the fact that you're both mates.
But you could feel it.
The stares he'd give you when you're freshly out of the shower, skin clean and covered in nothing but the scent of you. His eyes on you whenever you laughed at something he said, or when you snorted at a silly TV show. The tension between the two of you as you sat at your table and ate, feet only inches apart. Hands a brush away from one another. Napkins dabbing lips and licks dragging across skin. His hands would clench the table, eyes closed as he controlled his instincts, his emotions. You thought the need that you feel whenever he's with you was just a you thing, but after spending some time with each other, it's mutual. But you're scared. You know so much about him now, and you're scared that someday you'll lose him. That all of this is just a fantasy and you'll wake up alone. So you two do this dance every time you're with one another, pretending that you don't want one another when you do.
The breeze makes you open your eyes, and glance at your home. A few more hours until Wooyoung drops by.
You were never mad at him. He's the only friend you trust now; his honesty never swaying. You love Wooyoung, you do. After meeting Yeosang, and Wooyoung being in a relationship, your romantic feelings faded. You still consider him the most important person in your eyes. He's told you that he's still friends with Yunho, constantly nudging you to speak to your long time friend, or should you say parent?
You want to. Sit down and chat, tell him how hurt you still are but that you're ready to forgive. But you're not brave enough yet. Not ready to hear him speak with you. But you miss how his laughter filled the place, brightening up your day in the simplest of ways. You want to forgive him immediately, but a part of you is a bit pessimistic. Why should he be forgiven so easily? He broke your heart, shattering it. But he saved you from a life of sadness and struggle. He took you under his wing without a second thought, and raised you as his own. He was, is, your best friend. He’s been there for you whenever a boy or girl broke your heart, whenever you failed a test.
You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. The words that she sent you, a simple “I’m sorry we didn’t work out” stuck in your mind. A small knock on the door distracted you, and you turned, seeing your best friend, Yunho standing there. He held your favorite ice cream in his hands, along with your go-to movies. He tilted his head as he watched the tears fall down your cheeks, a small pout on his lips.
“Well, you can’t just spend all day crying about it,” He said simply. “Time to wash that sadness away with this!” He holds it up, rocking on his heels in excitement. “I have every installment of Harry Potter there is, and I even brought a little Dumbledore plush for you.” He threw the DVDs in front of the TV, holding up a small bearded man. He wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed for the first time in hours.
“You’re an idiot,” You grumbled, and he pulled your bean bags chairs in front of the small TV, dragging you as well. He kissed your forehead before plopping on the chairs, turning it on.
“But I’m your idiot.”
You take a deep breath, opening your eyes again. You hear a soft knock, and turn to your home, seeing Yeosang standing inside. He nods at you, a small smile on his lips. You lean up from your spot as he slides the door open, holding a small bag in his hand. Despite his average frame, he bumps his head into your low hanging flags, glaring at it before walking over to you.
“I apologize for not coming earlier, but I have to warn you-”
The door slides open again, and you look past him, seeing the bright red hair of his brother, San. His red eyes brighten as they look at yours, an excited wave sent your way.
After Yeosang and you mended your bond, the rest of the brothers (excluding Yunho) visited you frequently. You are quite surprised that San seems the most eager to learn more about you, stopping by your house several times a week. Yeosang discouraged him often, wrinkling his nose whenever he smelled his scent in your home, but he did like that you got along well. His brothers are his core, and it only pleased him that you and San were so well acquainted.
“y/n!” He screams, and you wince at his loud voice, rivaling even Wooyoung’s. He runs up to you, pulling you off the bench and into his arms. He always smells like a campfire, probably because his essence is entirely made from flames. He pulls back, ruffling your hair. “How is our favorite human doing?”
“Stop speaking to her like she’s an animal,” Yeosang mumbles, his voice immediately tired. “And I told you not to come out until I tell her.”
“I want to be here when you tell her.” San cocks his head, bottom lip purposely poking out as far as possible. “Yunho is leaving soon, we don’t have all day.”
Yeosang slaps his forehead. “I told you I would tell her-”
“Yunho is leaving?” You interrupt, body rigged. “But he’s lived here forever. Why would he go? Where is he going?”
Yeosang runs his fingers through his hair. “He doesn’t need to leave, but he feels that he’s bringing you and Wooyoung too much grief. He thought it would be best if he separated from this town, and left without saying so. I told him that it would only hurt you more if he left without a word, but he insists. I’m here to bring you to his home, and convince him to stay, because the rest of us couldn’t.”
You blink quickly. “Why… why? Who said I wanted him to stay?”
Yeosang raises a brow. He felt the lie before it even graced your lips, your heart beating faster and your hands fidgeting. San clears his throat. “We don’t have time for your silly human denials, Yunho is minutes from leaving.”
You push down the sour feeling that rises in your chest. He’s right, he’s right. You need to act like an adult and face your fear of seeing him again. You nod, and Yeosang wraps his arm around your waist. You yelp as he presses you against his chest.
“Hey, what are you-!”
“We have to fly there, we don’t have time to drive,” He looks down at you, your faces inches apart. “Do you trust me?”
“…Yes.”
“Then close your eyes.”
You shut them quickly.
Your body floats for a brief moment, heart jumping in your chest as you clutch your tightest onto Yeosang’s shirt. Your hair slaps against your face, cheeks sucked in and nose flaring. The burst of air is so quick, you don’t even get the chance to scream. Yeosang’s arms let you go, and you open your eyes.
You stand in front of Yunho’s apartment. Yeosang brushes your hair away from your face, eyes on yours. His blue flicks between yours, making sure you’re okay.
“Do you feel alright?” He asks, and you nod quickly.
San falls onto the ground seconds later, dirt flying everywhere. Yeosang leans back up, slight annoyance on his features. You love when they interact with one another; since Yeosang is older, he always scowls San whenever he gets the chance. San, despite his cold demeanor from before, is playful and full of life, eyes always sparkling at the newest discoveries.
You pat down your clothes, and run up to Yunho’s door. You don’t bother knocking, swinging it open. He always keeps it unlocked, explaining to you before that he’s not scared of someone robbing him. You always called him crazy, at least, until you realized why he isn’t scared.
Boxes are stacked up around his home. You push past them, looking around for him. Your eyes move to his figure sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He moves them away, looking back at you. You’re still not used to the endless black that looks at you, and he sighs, tugging on his roots.
“Yeosang brought you, didn’t he?” He asks softly. “I didn’t want you to know about this. You were fine without me being here since you found him. You don’t need me anymore.”
“Shut the fuck up for two minutes, Yun,” you move next to him, and he doesn’t flinch as you sit only a foot away. Your eyes scan him. His black eyes look at you, waiting for you to tell him how much you hate him, and that you’re happy he’s leaving.
But you pull his body into yours, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He feels the tears fall from your eyes, but he doesn’t dare hug you back. He’s afraid that you’ll only push him away. You hold him for a few more moments, before pulling back, wiping your soggy lids.
“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for so long, how to tell you how much I hated-” his body stiffened at that word- “that you pretended for so long. That you lied to me my whole life, and it took for Yeosang to appear for you to say that everything was a lie. But you know, I didn’t stop thinking about how much you helped me when I was younger.”
You watch as his face stares at yours. Yunho that’s your best friend, your brother, and your family.
“You taught me how to brush on my own. You taught me how to deal with heartbreak in the best and worst ways, you mourned with me when one of my friends passed in college. You taught me that kissing a boy doesn’t mean you’re pregnant, and you taught me right from wrong. God, I hated my parents at some points, and you even came in as my best friend and helped me see that sometimes, parents make mistakes and that no one is perfect. And it was all you. You, you made me into the person that I am today, and I can’t hate you for that.”
His hand trembles when you place yours on the top, squeezing his fingers.
“I cried for so many days when I found out. I cursed at you so much that I didn’t realize that you saved me. You took me out of that house when I was abandoned by the people who created me. You could have left me to die, but you didn’t. Yunho, you saved my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”
You reach up, rubbing the tears that fall from his cheeks. “I don’t care about you being a Dragon, I don’t care that your eyes are black or that your laugh makes me want to scream sometimes.”
He cracks a grin, and your heart warms.
“I just don’t want you to leave thinking that I haven’t forgiven you when I already did. All you wanted was to protect me from danger, and I can’t blame you for that. Like you told me, everyone makes mistakes. We just have to accept, move on and grow.”
He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The same thing that your parents, no, he did when you were a child. “You say that I saved you, but you saved me.” He says softly. “And I will never regret taking care of you. No matter how much you screamed and cried as I changed your diaper, no matter how much I struggled with teaching you the Human way of things. No matter how much I wanted to give up, seeing your face the next day only brought me joy, and I’ll never regret that, Pumpkin.”
You giggle softly at the nickname, “Thank you, Mr. Adult.”
“Well, I guess I can’t leave my kid behind, huh?” He teases, pulling back. You groan, throwing yourself back onto the couch.
“No Dad jokes Yun, I swear to god-”
“Ain’t no God here but me, bay-bee,” He snorts, and you only cover your face with a pillow, a loud scream drowning out his jokes for just a moment.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” You say. “You literally talk like ‘dad’. The jokes, the mannerisms, I can’t believe I didn’t think about it twice.”
Yunho rolls his eyes. “Why would anyone think that your best friend and your parents are the same person?”
Before you can comment, San bursts through the door, holding a couple of bottles of champagne. Yeosang and Wooyoung drag behind him, both annoyed. You can only giggle at his antics, and he wiggles his brows, yelling about how he loves Human alcohol.
Wooyoung comes next to you, squeezing your shoulder. “Did you make up? Because he’s been whining about you for about a month and I could only take so much.”
“But I thought you didn’t know he was leaving-” You look at Yeosang, and he whistles, waltzing into the kitchen. You glare as he goes, knowing you’re going to have a talk with him later.
-
You rub your eyes, yawning softly as you stand in the kitchen. Yeosang is supposed to be gone for the next few days, helping a small village somewhere continents away to replenish their water supply. He told you countless times that he can do it from the coziness of his home, but you insisted that he actually leave his cabin, and your immediate vicinity for once to explore the outside world. That being said, you walk around in one of his shirts he’s left behind and your underwear, comfortably hidden underneath the fabric. You’ve been a bit cautious around him recently, realizing that you both feel the same attraction for one another. But you know how his dragon gets whenever it gets a whiff of your scent, so you stay layered whenever he’s near.
He’s been a bit strange lately, walking around you in circles every once in a while, eyes on yours as he waits for you to say something. But you immediately called him weird and pushed him away, a sigh falling from his lips as he ignored you for the rest of that day. He always sniffed you from your side as well, rubbing his arm against you for a moment before continuing on in a conversation. You weren’t exactly sure what he would be doing, and you’re a bit anxious to ask. Yeosang is an open book, but you can tell when some things bother him, how he shuts down. Especially at the mention of his Mother, who he never speaks about, and if he does, very vaguely.
You sip your coffee, sitting on the edge of your kitchen stool and flicking through the channels on the TV that rests on your counter. Gordon Ramsay pops up on your screen, and you turn it up, giggling at how he ridicules someone for not knowing how to boil an egg. You hear the creak of your door, and glance over, expecting to see Wooyoung or Yunho.
But Yeosang walks around the corner, eyes a bit tired. He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. You jump up, running over to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs as you wrap them around his neck, his face tucked into yours. He breathes in deeply, missing how you smell. His body grows stiff as you pull away, hopping over to the microwave to heat up your coffee.
You walk over to the stove, pouting at the little amount of apples you have left crisping. “Sorry Yeo, I didn’t think you’d show up until the middle of the week. Do you want some bananas? I have a couple left-”
Your eyes flick to him. The sparkly eyes that you’re used to seeing are dark, the deepest blue you’ve ever seen them. His eyes are focused on your legs, trailing up and ending where his shirt began. You tremble at his gaze and he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. His hand grabs the counter next to him, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself together.
“Yeo, are you alright?”
His pupils are blown once they look back at you, trembling each time you take a soft step towards him.
“Don’t move, y/n. Please.” He asks desperately. “Why are you wearing that? Why do you smell different?”
You feel the chill of his skin as you stand only a few feet away from him. You think back to the first time he looked like this, eyes focused on yours. This time, there’s nothing separating the two of you; only his pure resilience and your poor judgment. You think back to what you could have done to make him this way, and your heart drops. You haven’t taken your birth control in a while. Wooyoung told you that he’ll drop it off, but he never did, and it slipped your mind. His chest rises and falls quickly as he waits for you to say something.
“I… I forgot to take my birth control,” You say, and his chest rumbles at your words. You feel your core clench, and he whines, turning away.
“I can’t, I can’t do this,” he mumbles. “y/n, I need you to stand right there and don’t move, or else I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” You ask softly, pulling down your shirt. He only flicks his head back quickly.
“I’ll fuck you into that counter,” he says simply. You know that he’s trying his best to remain in control, but you see the strain on his neck, the white of his knuckles as he keeps himself steady. “Do you want me to do that, y/n?”
His voice flips, hands slowly moving off of the marble. His eyes are blazed as he keeps them trained on you, flicking to whenever you take a step back or move your arm.
“Answer me.”
You try to hear through the deep tone of his voice but your head is throbbing. He has no idea how much you’ve wanted this, wanted him to claim you as his mate. You thought his odd behaviors were only reasons to push you away, his hands rarely gracing your skin.
He stalks toward you, hands dragging against the counter as he watches you play with him, avoiding his steps and doing the opposite of his movements.“I have but so much patience, y/n.”
“I want you to fuck me,” You whisper, and he visibly trembles at your words, quickly walking around the counter. You know he loves the game, so you run quickly into the living room.
Yeosang follows close behind with ease, twirling you around and pressing your chest against his. You feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his breaths frantic with need.
“y/n, if we start, there’s no going back,” You hear the sweet voice of Yeosang speak through the lust cloud of the dragon. “Mating is a lifelong commitment. It can be treated with uneasiness. Once you say yes,” his hands brushes against your cheek. “I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
You never thought that you’d like him, let alone love him. His hard exterior is the toughest you’ve had to break through, but inside is the man that you love. The dragon that you love.You reach up, running your hands along his cheek. He leans into your warmth against his cool skin, waiting for your answer with thin patience. You can feel his growing arousal resting against your stomach as you whisper the words he wants to hear.
“I love you, Yeo. I want this, I want you.”
You pull away and he lets you, watching you as you fall back onto the pull out couch, the bed already made. The switch is almost immediate. Soft, smiling Yeo is gone.
He leans over you, pressing his lips to yours immediately. He bites your lower lip, begging to enter you. You don’t protest, letting his tongue explore you. He doesn’t let up, as if he’s searching for something within you. He sucks on your tongue for a moment before moving away.
He grabs your legs, spreading you wide. He presses himself against you, and you ground as he licks a strip up the cloth underwear, before ripping it off easily. He doesn’t waste time; pressing his face into your wet cunt as you tremble at his touch. Three fingers push into you immediately with little prep, and you yelp.
His eyes flick to yours in concern, but seeing you nod, he pushes in and out quickly. His plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance. The sounds of your moans echo around the room as he eagerly growls into you, fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. As if he’s done this dozens of times. He grinds himself into the couch, ears perking up as you encourage him to go faster with his strokes. You arch your back as you feel him slip four fingers into you, five, your high slowly reaching its peak. You almost fall over, until Yeosang pulls out quickly. He pulls off his shirt, your eyes scanning over his body.
His skin is covered with what looks like scales, brightly colored blues tracing his chest. He always wears long sleeves, so you never noticed how from elbow up, his arm is decorated with tattoos, some in writings you can’t quite understand. He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it; ripping off his pants.
His cock springs out onto his belly, and you groan at the size, until you see something else underneath. Another cock, the equal size, sits underneath the first, light blue, dripping with precum. His eyes scan yours, waiting for you to reject him and push him away.
“You’re beautiful,” You say, smiling up at him.
His face reflects his smile as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. His cocks twitch against your cunt and he groans, licking the curve between your shoulder and neck lightly.
“This isn’t like Humans,” He says, rocking his cocks between your folds slowly. You try your best to concentrate on his voice, feeling the ridges of him brush lightly against your clit. “When I’m about to cum, I’ll bite your neck, y/n. I won’t let go until I’m finished.” He curses, looking between your bodies to see his cocks rub slowly. “I need to know you’re okay with me putting both of them in you. I can put in one if you want, we can stop if you want to-”
“Just do it, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you, I want you to fuck me until I can’t speak, mark my neck and make me yours-”
He presses his tips into you, and you tremble, your first orgasm immediately hitting you, your cunt tightening against him as you moan. He lets you come down from your high, before continuing his slow descent into you. He presses his lips against yours, trying his best to distract you from the stretch your pussy is getting. He tightens his eyes, shoving himself into you in one even stroke.
Your cunt is so tight against his cocks, that he can’t even move for a moment, you hold on him too tight. His balls rest against the outside of your lips, and you’re amazed at how much can fit inside your, the feeling of him completely taking over all of your senses. You know he wants to go as slow as he can, but he can only control himself for so long.
“Ease up, y/n,” He mumbles softly, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around him, feeling the smoothness of his scales underneath your fingertips. You let go for a moment and he lets out a breath he’s holding, slowly dragging his cock out of you. His eyes look back down, seeing your arousal coating his two cocks.
Your hands reach down, pushing him against you again. He chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Can’t wait to fuck you like a real dragon would.”
Before you could respond, he sinks back into you quickly. Your soft moans fall off your lips as he moves in and out of you, the rolling of his hips hitting yours with ease. He runs his tongue along your sweaty neck, hips not stuttering once. You can feel how much he’s pacing himself, the clench of his brows and the strained veins in his neck.
“Go faster,” You encourage, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to go faster, I can hurt you.”
“Yeosang if you don’t fuck me, we’re not doing this again.” It’s a lie. It’s an utter, total lie, but he believes it.
He leans up, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders. His pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with your flesh, the squelching sounds echoing in your living room. Yeosang couldn’t care less about how loud he’s being, groaning as he sees you in front of him, your top half still covered and your bottom filled with him.
“All of this, just for me. No one can ever have you, see you like this,” He whispers. “Look at your stomach, I can see my cocks moving in and out of you.” He grunts, strokes relentless. “You’ll look so beautiful filled with my cum, smelling only like me.”
“Yeo,” You struggle through your gasps, and he smirks as drool falls down your cheeks, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “P-Please don’t stop. Fill me up baby.”
His snarl makes your body tremble. He presses his lips to your leg, pace quickening. You hear the strain of your couch under this much movement, hoping that it doesn’t break.
His muscles strain, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, cocks easily moving in and out of you. The slap of his skin against yours only fills your mind, his moans music to your ears. You feel how hard his tips hit the inside of you, watch as your belly moves in and out as his cocks swell inside of you. If you weren’t so filled with the thought of him, you’d be terrified that he’d rip you apart with how fast he’s going.
He keeps up the merciless pace with ease, mouth open as he pants, eyes not leaving yours. The slapping of his balls against your lips are music to your ears, and you feel the rise of your arousal coming once again. It’s much quicker this time. He seems to sense it without your words, dropping your legs and pressing himself into you.
“Cum for me,” He says. He grips your hips as he slams into you, his pumping pace making you see stars. His teeth brush against your throat, and you scream as you reach your high. “I love you.”
He sinks his teeth into you, his hips sputtering as he claims you as his. You scream through the pain and the pleasure of him inside you. Your climax hits you so hard, legs wrapping around him as he pumps into you. His hips sputter, his balls slapping against you a few more times until he hits you hard once more. You feel the warmth of his cum hit your walls, filling you up. His cold body wraps around you as he runs his tongue along the wound, slowly closing it up.
Only your quick breaths fill the room as Yeosang pulls you on top of him, your sweaty bodies pressed against one another. He doesn’t slip out, letting his cocks rest inside you as his fingers trace your back.
“Two cocks? Scales?” You say into the silence, and he laughs, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You could have warned me about that, you know.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” He says softly. “I didn’t expect for this to happen right when I got home.”
“Home?” You say, lifting your head and looking at him. You see the deep blush coat his cheeks, the cheeks that you love. You laugh, pressing your lips against his chest. “You’re my home.”
He chuckles slowly.“And you’re mine.”
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kawareo · 3 months
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ur right, the only person who has an excuse to have abs is Karlach (the whole avernus thing, I believe she was probably malnourished during that time and slowly gets her healthy chub back the longer she travels with everyone)
Ok just gonna do a quick ramble about how i see them here, from no abs to yes abs
Gale: nerd who stays solely in his tower. His abs might be there but if they are its all illusion magic babey, there is SOFTNESS and thats a hill i will die on
Shadowheart: no visible abs and shes not particularly strong, shes just basically fit in a way where running up a small hill wouldn't kill her and her knees wouldn't creak when she crouches (sorry Gale), no abs, stomach soft to touch
Wyll: he's fit enough but not that strong, id say there is no ab definition but he can do some situps without feeling agony in the morning. They exist but theyre covered completely, you could feel them if he flexed!
Astarion: now. NOW. hear me out. He has abs at the start of the game and itd make sense because even though hes not that strong his DEX is high and it could make sense. BUT. as the game progresses he loses the abs because he is for the first time on 200 years not constantly dehydrated/starved and his body gets into a more normal state. His initial ab definition makes sense if we remember how movie stars look like when they dehydrate before shoots to make muscles more visible, id say same thing.
Karlach: abs of steel BUT theyre not that visible, she's strong as hell but id also give her some meat on the bone to make her stronger especially in the waist area. Similar to Astarion she also softens as the game progresses but worry not, the abs are still there, like bricks covered with a layer of fluff (youre so right for this anon)
Lae'zel: skinny and strong, you could cut yourself on how defined her abs are. She looks like shed have metabolism of a horse or maybe its just how githyanki are built but yeah she should be the only one whos stomach muscles present a risk of poking out your eye. Ab queen.
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notjuststardust · 25 days
Text
Bucket Time Trafalgar LawxReader
Reader eats too much brownie batter and suffers. Inspired by me at least once a week :). Keep in mind this is not proof read and its literally the first forethoughts that belched from my brain rot of this concept so take it easy if there are grammatical errors, please. Might upload an edited 3rd draft once I get there but for now enjoy this fluffy slice of doctor Law taking care of his sweet tooth crewmate. Fluff and some angst if you squint.
TW: Mentions of vomit, hypersensitivity.
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“What did I say about consuming raw brownie batter?” Your captain growled, your locks in hand as you wretched into your bucket for the fifth time tonight.
 “Not to eat it in copious amounts..” you whine, giving him your best puppy eyes in hopes of some sort of appeasement.
 “No I said don’t eat it at all.”
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 “But-“ you’re caught off guard by another wave of nausea, dipping your head back over your bucket and spilling your guts. As irritated as your captain is, he can't help but feel a swell of pity about your predicament. You always licked some of the brownie batter from the bowl on baking day despite his strict orders not to but Shachi and Penguin had dared you to down the entire thing. You’d done it in 60 seconds.
 That had been the beginning of the end of your wellness.
 “S-sorry,” you sniff, tears slipping from the mere action of relieving your stomach, grabbing for the clean cloth on the sink to wipe your mouth. “Wont do it again.” You mutter weakly, head nearly drooping from tired yet Law knows one thing and that is that your sweet tooth always makes you a liar.
 Once your fever goes down and he discharged you to your quarters when next month rolls around you’ll forget all about this and indulge once again in the chocolate goodness.
 It’s too late for another scolding so he chokes back a comment, replacing your bucket with a new one. As the sink rolls on he watches you in his peripheral, barely upright from dehydration and exhaustion. He’s shocked you haven’t dropped by now. You’ve had a fever since 5 o clock when Shachi and Penguin had finally decided to relay your secret sickness to the captain. 
 You’d made them promise not to because you looked ‘gross’ and smelled bad but it was no worse then what he already was used to. Now it was 1am and you were barely upright, staring off in a daze of impending doom toward your bucket.
 “Go to sleep.” It sounds more like a threat than a suggestion. You huff and squirm. 
 “If I fall asleep I might miss the bucket. I’ve never missed the bucket before.” He freezes mid scrub, cranking his head to look at you. Sensing his stare you stare harder at the bucket, trying to ignore the intensity bubbling his steel gaze molten.
 “Your health is not something to make a gamble of,” more than anger is evident in his command, making you shrink. “If you miss I’ll just clean it up,” he gestures to the cot pulled out in his office for you. “Now sleep.” He gruffs watching you stand and sway out of the bathroom, careful to avoid even a glance his way.
 He relaxes once he thinks he’s won.
 That’s until he’s droning through paperwork only to find you wide awake at the crack of dawn, refusing sleep even still. “(Y/N)-ya.” Your eyes snap shut. He stands from his desk.
 “I haven’t missed the bucket before, I won’t miss it now!” You levy and that’s the hump that breaks the camels back. All the worry, stress and disrespect peaks spilling out of Law’s throat as projectile, emotion and tired clouding the real contents that spew fourth.
 “Are you that naive? I’m a doctor. Without proper sleep your body won’t properly restore your ATP. You’ll just keep getting worse,” he snaps, hackles raised as you turn up your nose in refusal. “If you’re really going to act like such a child I may as well drop you off with strawhat-ya! Tell me, is that what you want? You might fit in with the band of idiots..” The tension clenching his chest into what had felt like chronic hypertension eases with his outburst for only a moment. 
 There’s only the brr of the submarine and the shuffle of a body, yours, flipping over to face the wall. Law opens his mouth to take it back but you speak first. “If that would be easier for you, I accept your decision, captain.” Your body trembles and it’s not from the uptick of waves. Caging a hand over his mouth Law tries to concoct something to salvage his harshness with you. A snore graces your lips and whether artificial or not the doctor decides is best to simply say nothing for now.
—- 
 Law returns from breakfast to find your cot freshly made and… empty. Oh no. 
 He starts with your bedroom. You hadn’t been down for breakfast and he hadn’t taken your temperature just yet. Had you seriously left before he could make sure you were okay? No, you were sensitive, a bit silly but you were not an idiot. Not like he had said at all. After checking just about every room the doctor freezes something blatant clicking in his brain. He murmurs a quiet ‘shambles’ switching himself with one of Ikkaku’s trinkets only to enter as a closet door slams shut.
 “Ikkaku.” The ginger slowly turns her head, face pale as she giggles too much. He doesn’t need to say anything because he scanned the room the minute he’d switched. You’d been found a while ago.
 “H-hey captain, what are you doing in here?” He almost states his business fully but the only worry on his crewmates face is for fear of you being found. If you were sick Ikkaku would most definitely rat you out.
 “Tell (Y/N)-ya I need to see her in my office when you see her.” He flicks a telling glance toward the closet before hesitantly excusing himself and like clockwork he hears the closet reopen.
 “He wants to get rid of me. Doesn’t he?” He goes frigid at your words. You were notably the most sensitive of your crew members. Emotion and human behavior were your strengths so how could you think such a thing? Nevermind, of course you thought that, you’d thought he implied it last night.
 Law stands outside the door, frog in his throat when you open it. You don’t seem shocked that he’s out there but you don’t seem happy either, eyes scanning him over for any sense that he had in fact heard your words. “Sorry.” You apologize almost instantly, eyes set to the ground in silent shame. There was more color to your face and you smelled like waffles.
 You’d kept something down, good.
 “Room.” He murmurs, and you both reappear in his study. You blink off the still heavy nausea and plonk into a chair. He takes your temperature and administers a subcutaneous antibiotic. The silence is loud.
 “I left a note with my vitals for this morning.” He eyes his desk and sure enough there’s a note written in big letters, ‘Need some space. BPM 68….’ He swallows as he reads through your detailed note. You didn’t leave a single thing to the imagination because you knew he’d worry. Law nods, then he slides back into his chair.
 “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I know I might now show it but… you had me worried.” You nod but do not move, do not even offer a single joke. He feels his heart clench. “Do you remember much?” He offers as a transition, folding his hands together on the table.
 “Everything.” It’s not an admission but it sure feels like it. His tongue fumbles into knots and you notice. “You were tired.” You say so quietly, eyes set on the medicine cabinet for comfort instead of him.
 “That’s no excuse,” he counters just as quickly wanting so badly for you to just look at him, see his side. “You are not an idiot and you have no place on any other crew.” Your brows pop and you let out a low whistle.
 “That’s rich.” It almost sounds bitter but there’s the twitch of a laugh.
 “Care to let me in on the joke?” He inquired cooly, forcing himself not to take it personally, yet. You consider yourself.
 “Well,” you shoot a glance Law’s way. “I mean it would be great petty revenge to join Luffy’s crew.” Your captain facepalms.
 “(Y/N)-ya-“
 “If you wanted to visit me I’d make sure to get real cozy with Luffy so I didn’t have to talk to you.” You tease as he snorts. The thought of you and Luffy together gave him a headache, not to mention his stomach soured at the mere idea of you brushing hands and stolen glances at one another.
 “You hate me that much, huh?” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There’s quiet.
 “I could say the same thing to you.” You say it so casually he nearly chokes. He looks up to find your teasing feign gone. What was it you had said earlier?
 “He wants to get rid of me. Doesn’t he?”
 “I do not want to get rid of you.” There is conviction and then there is objective fact, this was that. Nothing you could say nor do could change the fact that even though you were sometimes a moron who ate too much brownie batter or an idiot that took bathes with electronics in the tub you were his problem and to be quite frank, his favorite problem.
 Though you were an inconvenience at times you were a comfort to just about everyone on board. You brought a content that hadn’t been here in your absence and a space for Law to be palpable despite his hesitancies. Not to mention you always followed through.
 A consistent chaos in a sea of abnormalities.
 “Are you sure?” You murmur, words unsteady as the sea of ‘want to says’ in his head. He nods and reaches onto the desk, open palmed and flicking his pointer. His cheeks heat as you stare at his hand. Then you put a pen where he’s requesting your hand.
 He about deflates.
 “Y-yes, I’m sure.” He puts the pen away when realization his you like a brick.
 “Wait-“ not wasting another second you take hold of his hand. He clears his throat as you stare at him for confirmation, gifting you a curt nod. Maybe he couldn’t say the words but you could read the in betweens.
 “You’re my problem. Do you understand?” Bravely, he lifts your hand bringing it to his mouth. He hesitates as you gulp, careful only to brush his mouth over a knuckle once he's certain you don’t want to protest.
 “Y-yes Captain!” You give him some sort of mock salute in the middle of your fluster, bashful as you realize what class of problem you were. He chuckles softly, releasing your hand.
 “That means no more brownie batter,” he stands at full height, leaning over the desk to take in all your bashful glory. “That way I can finally taste those beautiful lips of-“ That’s when Shachi and Penguin burst down the door, parting the anticipatory union and turning you both red with embarrassment. 
 “Too much cookie dough!” They grovel, sloshing to piles of green much on the floor.
 It’s bucket time again.
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sky-kiss · 28 days
Text
Lucy & Cooper: Eye to Eye
A/N: So short but needed it out of my head. Vague spoilers for the end of Fallout's first season, so be aware.
L & C: Eye to Eye
Vaultie doesn’t talk much for the first couple of days. 
Coop tries not to dwell on it—lot easier for him, lot safer for them, if she keeps her mouth shut. Just…well, hell, it’s one of those things that niggles at him, twitching in the back of his mind like a worm on a hook. Dumb fuckin’ fish that he is, Coop lets it draw him in. 
The ghoul gives her a once-over as they settle in for the night. Blood’s still crusted on her uniform, near the corner of her mouth, some of it flecked into her hair. A mottled bruise stretches across her cheek and up over her temple, purple at its center before paling to yellows and greens on the edges. Coop knows it hurts, but Vaultie doesn’t say shit. 
A noose and a prolonged stay on death’s door, dehydration, and irradiation hadn’t shut her up, but she’s sitting there, staring into the fire, all banged up and silent. 
Cooper chews a sardine ponderously. There’s no taste, not anymore, just the tension of flesh and little bones giving way beneath his teeth. He grunts before sliding the rest of the tray across to her. Vaultie doesn’t take it. He clucks his tongue. “Eat when then eatin’ is good, Vaultie. Get deeper into the Wastes and…well.” he shrugs as if the silence should be all the answer she needs. And it should be, but she just goes on staring with her huge doe eyes. 
“I’m not hungry.” Almost as an afterthought, she adds. “Thank you.” 
“Do what you like. You’re a big girl. And I ain’t your daddy.” 
The phrase jostles something in her head. Vaultie’s whole face screws up—nose scrunching, lips curling—and she opens her mouth as if to speak, only for it to snap shut. A muscle twitches in the corner of her mouth and it’s…it’s a hell of a thing. 
He doesn’t see his daughter in her face…doesn’t see Barb. He’s looking in a mirror. It’s two centuries ago, and he’s staring at himself—all offended dignity as he reads something unsavory in a script or listens to a suit wax philosophical about a battlefield they’ll never see.  
Vaultie must clock something about his reaction. All the stiffness leaves her posture. She just…deflates, eyes dropping. “I know that,” she says, voice soft. Not the “let me de-escalate this situation” bullshit she’d put on in Filly…just human. Very human and so tired. “I’m sorry—it was wrong of me to snap at you.” 
Coop almost laughs. He holds his arms out wide instead. “No harm done.” 
She goes back to her staring, back to her silence. Something howls off in the distance.  
Out of nowhere, and because it’s all just fuckin’ disorienting—the silence, having somebody around again—the ghoul says, “Reckon you’ll kill him?”
“Excuse me?” 
He picks nonexistent grit out of his teeth and spits. “Think you know exactly who I mean, sweetheart.” Vaultie cocks her head to the side. Firelight licks at her skin—it makes his hard lines harder, edges more jagged, but for her? She looks soft and young…a gross oversimplification. There’s steel in her eyes. Coop shrugs, flashing a smile that must look horrible. She doesn’t shrink back. “You find it offends your finer sensibilities and I’ll do it for ya.” 
“No.” Her tone leaves no room for debate. 
“Vaultie, that’s not a word I’m in the habit of hearing.” 
“It’s Lucy,” she corrects. “And I…said what I said.” The girl hugs her arms around herself. “He’s still my dad. I don’t want him…” Vau..Lucy pauses. Her brow furrows, “...Well, I guess I don’t know what I want yet. But…I have time.” 
“Less and less of it every day.” 
She screws up her nose again. “Maybe. But it’s my choice.” It’s the damnedest thing: the words just hang there for a second, silence broken by the crackle of the fire. And then she seems to actively register what she’s said. It’s Lucy MacLean’s choice. She smiles and nods—brilliant and bloodied and somehow still clean. “But…thank you for offering.” 
Like he’s suggested giving up his seat on the bus and not filling her daddy full of lead. Fuckin’ Vaulties…Coop shakes his head, “Anytime, sweetheart.”
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corazondebeskar-reads · 7 months
Text
the devil you don't know (or however it goes)
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hunter/raider!Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity.
Warnings: DARK, dub-con, Joel Miller is not a nice man, suspension bondage, abduction, captivity, themes of torture, mentions of past sexual abuse (not Joel), starvation, dehydration, a smidge of knifeplay, a pinch of bloodplay, seriously dead dove do not eat, ambiguous ending, reader has suicidal ideations because of anxiety and threat of imminent death, I mean it guys, this is somehow less depraved than the last raider!Joel but way darker, author makes up stuff about how garage doors work because google failed her but she's probably on a watchlist now so, canon-typical violence, gags, overnight bondage in an unsafe environment, reader's age isn't specified but she was an adult when the outbreak started
Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.
also on ao3.
Back in the before, in all the movies and books, when the damsel in distress or dashing hero was captured, they woke up clueless. Thinking they were home before it all settled in. They’d write off the pain as a hangover or a friend’s shitty couch.
That’s not how it happened for you.
When your consciousness first blinked back into the world, you were already having a panic attack. Your brain had registered the clues long before you were involved in the process.
Your cheeks are already streaked with tears before you can open your eyes. Your throat is dry and aching, and you can’t breathe.
Of course, you don’t realize it’s a panic attack at first. You just assume you’re dying. Here in this damp, cold… garage?
Recognition snaps you out of it. You’re still gasping, ragged, like you’re full of broken glass, but you’re alert enough to look around.
You’re alone. Small mercies. Or maybe not, given the way you’re tied up. Coarse rope forces your arms behind your back, wrapped from wrist to elbow. Your shoulders ache from being yanked backward, but the length has some slack, at least, between you and the bracket on the thick steel wall.
No. Not a wall. A door. You’re tethered to a huge door, inflexible accordion-style metal punctuated with heavy-duty brackets. No windows, no rotting wood. Impenetrable.
The door isn’t closed all the way, but it’s locked into place. Even if you got your hands free, it would take time and strength to remove the locks and open it enough to slip out.
The air coming through the bottom is chilly but fresh.
It helps. Focusing on the cold shushes the other alarms in your body. Enough to realize it's not just your arms that are tied.
There are loops of rope around your thighs, tethered to the same point as your hands, and loops around your ankles, which are attached to the side walls nearby. Both grant you enough slack to move a little but hold your legs wide enough to prevent standing.
Not that it matters, you think, as a door on the other side of the room swings open.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” croons a man as he steps through the frame, the soft twang plucking at your heartstrings.
No. No. “Miller.”
“I was surprised to see you, too. M’boys said they found one of your daddy’s people in our territory. Imagine my face when they dragged you in.”
“So let me go. You know he’ll come looking.”
“Will he? Lotta blood out there.”
“Not mine.”
“Oh, I know. I saw the way you carved up one of my guys. You got him good.” He almost sounds pleased. “But daddy doesn’t know that, does he?”
“He’ll still look for me.”
“You think he’s going to break our pact for you? He’s gonna risk facing me over a runaway?” He pauses. “Were you runnin’ to me?”
“No,” you snarl.
“But you are runnin', ain’tcha?”
“No,” you lie. “I just got lost. He’s waiting for me for dinner.” Part of that, at least, is true. You would have never intentionally crossed into Joel Miller’s land.
“Alright, I get it. Better the devil ya know, right?” he grins.
You glared over his shoulder, refusing to look at his stupid, smug face. That was why you had stayed these last few years. When supplies ran lower and lower and your father found other ways to keep his men loyal.
At the end of the day, you had food, water, and shelter.
As you look anywhere but Joel, you see what fills the industrial metal shelving along the walls. There are stacks of boxes of bullets. Pallets worth of bottled water and canned goods. Cases of dried pasta. A couple dirty mattresses are leaning against the back wall. Your stomach sinks.
He sees you taking in the stock. “Sorry, would have kept ya in the other one, where we usually have our… guests, but see, it’s a little messy right now.” He pulls a Dasani out of a case and brings it over, pressing it to your lips after pocketing the lid.
You rear your head back.
“What, you think it’s drugged or somethin’?” Joel takes a big swig out of the bottle, a drop rolling down his chin. He swipes it away with the folded cuff of his denim button-up. “Why would we waste any of the good stuff on you?”
He offers it back up to you, and you let him pour it in your mouth. When he takes it away, you spit it at him.
He sighs. “Wish you hadn’t done that,” he says and tips the bottle over your head. “But if that’s the way you’re gonna be, I’ll go.”
But he doesn’t leave. Not yet. First, he presses and holds the button on the wall and watches as the pulley cranks to life.
The machinery grates, gears crying for oil, and you flinch from the noise. You don’t realize what’s about to happen until it does. The ropes holding you aren’t that long, and as the garage door slides up, it lifts you with it.
You scream. “Stop, please, put me down.”
Joel shakes his head, disappointment exaggerated in his scowl. “Shoulda been good. Now ya know.”
He releases the button when the door is open. You’re hanging, now, with your arms pulled to their limit behind you. Your shoulders already burn. The loops around your thighs and ankles keep you balanced at the expense of spreading you wide. You jerk, trying to… what? Trying to get out? You know that wasn’t happening, not like this. All you were going to do was dislocate your shoulders.
The late summer breeze blows in, and you shiver. Your hair and shirt are soaked.
“Don’t worry,” Joel jerks his head to the dark house across the street. “Ain’t got neighbors.”
He goes to leave, and you can’t help it. “Don’t, please!”
He stops and turns around, head to the side like you’re a puzzle he wants to figure out. “You gonna shut up, or do I gotta take care of that?”
Blood drains from your face.
He comes over to you and pulls a filthy bandana from his pocket. He rolls it up and ducks behind you. You try to lock your jaw, but he digs his fingers into the hinges until you open a little. He presses the bandana into your mouth, yanking back on it, and tying it tight behind your head.
“Night,” he tips his head, flourishing a hand like a fucking cowboy in a Stetson, and leaves, closing the door behind him.
You don’t sleep, waiting for hungry dogs or Joel’s men to find you trussed up.
When he comes back in the morning, you’re a wreck. You survived the fucking apocalypse, but none of it could have prepared you for this. You’re blinking in and out of consciousness.
There’s nothing but the pain. You’re sure you would have cried or thrown up, but you’re so dehydrated now that you can’t even spare a tear. It’s not lost on you that you got into this situation by wasting water.
“Chilly in here,” he says by way of greeting, tugging the bandana off you.
You keep your eyes closed. Imagining his smug smirk is bad enough, you don’t need to see him see you like this.
“You shoulda worn a jacket, sweetheart.”
“Did,” you croak, and wish you hadn’t fallen for his bait.
“Ah, someone took it from ya? Must have been a nice one.”
It was. It was patched up and ugly, but so was everything in this world. And it was warm. Heavy denim with quilted down lining. The last thing you’d ever take from your father, you thought.
He walks around you. You’d stiffen if you could, but you’ve long been stuck, muscles given out.
“Alright, let’s get ya down.”
At least the dehydration saves you from the whimper you almost let out. But it’s silent, and if Joel notices anything, he doesn’t react.
He walks back over to the door and presses the button. “S’gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warns before the door jerks backward, click click clicking as it lowers. It’s slow, but when your legs touch the ground, you may as well have plummeted.
You scream, wrenching it from your haggard throat, hands balled into fists behind your back. When you’re fully on the ground, you collapse against the door, only sparing a wince when your head bounces against the jutting metal seam between panels.
“Deep breaths. You’ll be fine.” He crouches down in front of you, same ratty denim shirt and jeans, same scuffed up boots. “You ready to behave?”
You nod, barely moving, but he gets the message.
“Y’look thirsty.”
You crack your eyes open to peek at him but can’t. They roll back into your head, lids fluttering.
You’re vaguely aware that he leaves and comes back but have no idea how much time passes. He crouches back down in front of you, and you hear the crinkle of a decade-old plastic bottle.
“If I give you this, are you going to spit it at me again?”
“No,” you whisper.
“You gonna ask nicely?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, but your brain is mostly static, so you give up without much of a fuss. “Please.”
He hums his approval and brings the bottle to your lips. He only lets you take tiny sips, infinitesimal in the arid expanse of your mouth. He pulls it away far too soon, and a soft sob leaks from you in its absence.
“You can have more later. Don’t need you gettin’ sick all over my garage.”
He leaves.
When he comes back late into the evening, you’re asleep, but you startle awake when he turns the light on.
Your wide eyes follow him as he moves about the garage. When he finally approaches you, it’s to offer more water. You accept it immediately, opening your mouth for the bottle before it even reaches you.
“Learned your lesson, huh? Good girl.”
It’s accompanied by a sneer, but that doesn’t stop the way your pussy clenches for a minute. Given that you’re still fully clothed, he remains blessedly unaware.
“Can you just, like, shoot me now or whatever,” you mumble. You know you’re not leaving that garage. You’ve seen where he keeps the top supplies. You know which house this is—or at least, the numbers on the house across the street.
“Nah,” Joel says as if you’re discussing what to eat for dinner. He sits down in front of you, knees bent up, leaning on them with the arm holding the water bottle. “You’re gonna help me first.”
“Why would I help you if you’re going to kill me?”
“Because I’ll make it quick for ya.”
You think you might throw up the water.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he gestures at you with his loose hand, now grasping a closed switchblade. “You know how this goes. Seen your pops do it plenty, right?”
You nod.
“I don’t think you’re gonna make me, though,” Joel muses, and scratches his chin with the outside of the blade.
“I was running,” you blurt. “If I tell you everything, I swear, he’ll never know, I just want to—”
“‘Fraid not,” he says, shaking his head. “Nothin’ personal, sweetheart, just can’t trust ya.”
The way you’re staring at him with your pretty eyes, glistening with fear, makes him scowl harder. He flicks the blade open and watches as a tear escapes before you close your eyes.
“Promise?” you whisper.
“Promise what?”
“Promise you’ll make it quick, if I tell you everything.” You’re shaking, and realize you’re probably about to have another panic attack as your breathing grows shallow.
“Yeah, I promise,” he says. He stands up and watches you, the way you’re clenching your hands into fists and trying to breathe out of your mouth.
“Jesus. It’s not gonna happen right now, calm down.”
Before he leaves, he gives you more water.
You’re awake when he comes back the next morning. He sits in front of you, legs crossed, and sets a cloth full of dried meat between you, and another bottle of water.
He picks up a thick strip. It doesn’t look like the shit they used to sell at grocery stores. It looks like they’ve salted and dried their own fucking jerky.
You stare as he rips off a piece and eats it.
“What? Y’ain’t got pigs?”
You shake your head.
“Jesus,” he sighs. “Is there even anything to take, or am I wasting my fucking time?”
“Lots of guns,” you shrug. “Some food. Not like you’ve got.”
Guns were more than enough of a reason, and you both knew it. He ripped another piece off and held it to your lips.
You didn’t hesitate.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” he says while you chew. “I’m going to ask you a question. If I believe your answer, you can have somethin' to eat or drink. If I don’t believe you, that’s when things get tricky.” He opens the switchblade and sets it next to the water.
It takes hours, but true to your word, you tell him everything. The layout of the old campground your father took command over. Patrol schedules. Planned raids. Locations of guns, food, medicine, everything.
By the end of it, you’d had two sticks of the jerky and the whole bottle of water. You look more alive than you have in days, given that you’d been thoroughly lost for two before stumbling across his men on patrol.
“Why’d you feed me?” you ask when he stands to leave. “Aren’t you about to kill me?”
“No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gotta see if your information is good. Probably won’t even make a move for a week or so.”
You tense. “You promised. You promised you’d make it quick.”
“I promised I’d make it quick when I kill ya. If you told me everything. Can’t prove you did until it’s done.”
He doesn’t know what he expected you to do, but screaming was not it. It’s a wounded, rageful thing. He hates it. He stomps back over and covers your mouth, blade in hand. It presses against your cheek, and you hiss.
He pulls his hand away and watches the blood drip down your cheek. You don’t scream again, but there’s something in your eyes when you stare him down.
“Coward,” you whisper.
His hand wraps around your throat, pushing you against the garage door. He doesn’t remember kneeling down close to you, but that’s where he finds himself as he squeezes, bringing the knife up above his hand.
You aren’t struggling, yet, His grip isn’t that tight. Some air still leaks, and you laugh. “C’mon,” you taunt.
He lets go. You slump down a little, chest heaving. There’s blood dripping down from the small nick in your neck to your cleavage.
You watch him watch it. “Can you at least clean that up if you’re going to leave me here?”
He doesn’t know what possesses him. It has to be the unhinged look in your eyes, spreading to him like poison. He grabs your jaw in the hand with the blade and pushes your head to the side so he can lean down and lick the blood off your breast. You moan.
He spits it to the side, and turns your head back to look at him. Your lips are parted, pupils blown. “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls, leaning back, putting distance between him and your tits.
“C’mon,” you repeat, but this time, it’s heady.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” But he doesn’t wait for you to answer. He grabs your jaw again and kisses you. It’s not kind or soft. It’s all teeth and snarls and the knife against your cheek. But you kiss him back, because it pleases the ravaging wildfire of rage that lives in your chest. Fuels it.
He pulls back. “Shit," he mutters.
“You gonna fuck me or what?”
He lets go. Stands up. You think maybe he’s going to get his cock out, but he stalks over to the door. “Or what.”
He slams the door so he doesn’t have to hear you howl in fury after him, spitting insults.
He doesn’t come back the next day.
By the second morning, you’re starting to panic. You’re so thirsty. The last bottle had a few dregs in it, just a sip, but it's just out of reach. The only light you have is when it creeps in from the little gap between the garage door and the uneven concrete.
When he comes that evening, he’s ditched the denim. He’s got tight dark pants and a gray t-shirt on. You don’t look at him directly as he gives you water and more of the salty jerky.
He crouches down in front of you again. You’re getting tired of it. Of his stupid pretty face and this stupid garage. Your arms are numb, and the pounding in your head hasn’t gone away since the first day. You don’t even know how long you’ve been here anymore.
“Why’d you ask me to fuck you?" It’s less of a question than a statement, but you know he expects an answer.
“Dunno. Thought maybe you would.”
“I’m going to kill you. Your pussy ain’t going to change that.”
“Didn’t expect it to.”
“What, you a virgin or something? You trying to get fucked before you die?”
“Or something, yeah,” you mutter.
“Shit.” He can’t believe he’s considering this. It feels like crossing one of the few lines he hasn’t crossed.
It’s not lost on you. “Are you having a fuckin' moral dilemma about this? You’re gonna gut me, and you’re trying to figure out if it’d be fucked up to have sex with me?”
“Not gonna gut ya,” he says. “Said I’d make it quick, didn’t I?”
“Oh my god. That was so not the point.”
“Shut up. Look at me.”
You do. He’s holding the blade again. “I verified your information yesterday. We’re going to make our move tomorrow. I’ll be back by sundown. You still want this?”
It feels like he dumped the water on you again. You shiver. So that’s it. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be gone.
“Yes.”
“Fine. But we’re doin’ this my way.” He walks away, and you think he’s going back inside until he stops and presses the button.
You’re shocked enough that all you do is gasp when the door lifts, pulling you into the air. He stalks back over to you and holds the blade up. “Hold still.”
You’re hanging in the fucking air. What does he think you’re going to do? Fly away? But you hold your breath anyway while he slides the knife between your skin and clothes. When you’re bare to him, he drops the knife and grabs your waist.
“You done anything? Anyone ever make you cum?”
You shake your head and murmur, “No, no one.”
When you look up at him, you’re surprised to see something almost soft behind his eyes. You glare. “What, is it going to make you feel less guilty if I have an orgasm?”
“What do I got to feel guilty for? You fuckin’ begged for it.”
“Then fuckin’ fuck me already,” you snap. Your arms hurt again. You want to fuck him, you want to land your fists against his stupid face, you want to not fucking die tomorrow.
But you can only have one of those things, so. “Please,” you say, and sigh.
He cups your breasts, stroking thumbs over your nipples. He leans over and licks, and you moan again, soft this time.
“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t gotta do that. Just fuck me.”
“Ain’t doin’ it for you,” he lies.
You don’t protest again, not after he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. He brings a hand to your cunt and thumbs your clit, sliding two fingers down to start working you open for him. He eases the first one in through your slick, and you whine.
“I’m not gonna be nice,” he says, panting a little. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Yeah,” you agree, watching as he stretches you open. Your legs are held so wide they ache, but it doesn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when he picks up speed.
He holds you tight when you cum so your arms don’t jerk too hard. It’d be a shitty end to a shitty life, you think, to wait all day with dislocated shoulders for him to come home and slit your throat.
Finally, he pulls his cock out. A man of his word, he doesn’t go nice or slow. It does hurt. His cock is thick and long, and he makes it fit even as your body tries to reject him. He hooks his hands under your thighs, forcing you to put some of your body weight on him as he fucks up into you.
It takes the pressure off your arms, and you suspect maybe he's strong enough to fuck like this without the help from the ropes.
The burn is exactly what you wanted. It stings, and you cry, silent but for a few whimpers. He pulls another orgasm out of you with his clever fingers on your clit.
When he comes, he pulls you to him and sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You wail, but you also cum again as he fills you.
You expect him to leave you there, dangling and dripping his spend. But when he lets go, it’s just to lower you back to the ground.
He tucks his soft cock away and zips up, staring down at you. You lay against the door, trying to catch your breath.
“What’d you mean by ‘or something’?” he says, surprising himself.
“S’nothin,” you sigh.
He sits down, offers you water. You drink and watch him, tense and untrusting.
“Was that the first time you’ve been fucked?”
“First time I ever wanted it,” you say.
His jaw ticks. “Answer one more question for me, ‘bout your father’s camp.” He waits until you meet his eyes. “If you’re strugglin’ for food, how’s he keeping all them happy?”
You flinch and look away.
He doesn’t need another answer.
You don’t expect to see him in the morning, so you’re startled when the door opens. He throws something on the floor, but you don’t have time to look before he’s crouched over you, knife in hand.
You had promised yourself you’d be brave and quiet when he came for you. But you thought you’d have time to prepare yourself, so when he brings it toward you, you flinch back and cry out. “Hold still,” he snaps. He doesn’t have time to wait for you to cooperate, so he holds your shoulder with one hand and slices through the rope with the other.
When he’s done, he jabs the knife in the direction of the pile of fabric by your foot. “Get up. Get dressed.”
You can’t stand. He huffs and pockets the knife, pulling you up. Your limbs barely move from the way they’ve been stuck, splotchy and limp from poor circulation. He helps you tug the flannel on and step into what must be a pair of his boxers.
He looks you over. “S’all I got.”
“Okay,” you say. You’re so confused. Between the pain, the hunger, the dehydration, and the fear, it’s a wonder you can string together a single thought.
“Let’s go,” he snaps as he heads for the door, like you were supposed to know already. When you get into the house, he grabs one arm and pushes you ahead of him, through a kitchen and living room and out another door.
Most of his men are in two vans, but Joel shoves you into a pickup truck. He buckles you in and waves a finger in your face. “You try anything, and it’ll take you days to bleed out.”
You just nod. You’re thinking now that he probably doesn’t want to kill you in his house. Blood all over the stockroom would be a pain in the ass.
At least you got to see sunshine again.
It’s not a long drive, but you keep your eyes closed. The autumn sun is weak, but you think you might cry as it brushes your skin.
Joel doesn’t say a word.
You don’t open your eyes until he parks. He hops out and comes to pull you out the other side, but when you see where you are, you panic and try to push him away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps. “Get out of the fucking truck.”
God. Everything you’d heard about him is true. Was he really this cruel? Monstrous enough to drag you back, to die here when you’d finally escaped?
Or—has he struck a deal? Is he going to give you back to your father?
You can’t breathe.
Joel crowds you against the truck, hands on your shoulders, and shakes you a little. “Snap out of it, I ain’t got time for this. Stick with me and keep your mouth shut.”
For a moment, neither of you move. You get control of your breathing and realize he hasn’t restrained you. He didn’t give you shoes, but you still know this land far better than he does. You told him all your father’s secrets, but not yours.
“Don’t,” he says. It’s the softest he’s spoken to you yet.
And, god help you, you nod.
Two of Joel’s men are struggling to hold your father when Joel drags you into the living room of the main cabin. He’s holding your wrists behind your back, his gun pressed into your side.
“Oh, thank god, honey, you’re okay,” your father says, but his face falls when he sees the gun. “C’mon, Miller, let her go. She’s not a part of this.”
“She is now,” Joel says. “Found her on my land. Ain’t that right?”
You want to close your eyes, want to ignore your part in this, want him to just fucking shoot already, but you can’t look away from your father’s face.
“I swear to god, Miller, if you laid a hand on her—”
“Like your men did?” He waits and doesn’t receive a response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“You know how it is,” your father says. He can’t read Joel, never could. “Everyone’s gotta contribute somehow. Keep morale up,” he plows forward, oblivious to the dangerous way Joel’s eyes have darkened. “Look, I can look past it. Whatever you did, she probably had it coming, for trespassing. We can call it even.”
Joel’s slow smirk is feral. He nods. For a moment, your father breathes with relief. But Joel isn’t looking at him.
His men move quick, and your father is on his knees in just seconds. They struggle to hold him down with hands on his shoulders, but he stops fighting when Joel lifts the gun away from you.
He doesn’t aim it at your father, who has to watch as Joel flips the gun in his hand and offers you the grip. He didn’t even notice that Joel had let you go.
You don’t say anything. You look at Joel for a moment, and your father watches you slowly move to take the handgun. He has the nerve to look relieved again, until you stop, holding it in both hands in front of you, looking at it.
“What are you doing? Shoot him!” your father says.
You look up at your father, grimacing against the bile rising in your throat.
You look at Joel again, gun heavy. You wonder what would happen if you let it drag down, out of your fingers, to the knotty pine panels that cover every surface. You wonder what would happen if you clasped your fingers around the weight of it and raised your arm to the left.
Joel’s men watch him, unsure. He holds up a hand and waits, watching the glow from the hearth dance across your face.
“Shoot them, you stupid girl, and get me out of here.”
Joel steps closer, puts his hands on your waist, and leans in. “Up to you, darlin’,” his hot breath against your ear.
You pull the trigger.
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robinette-green · 5 days
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Astrological Bullets
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They tell you that blood is thicker than water, but I disagree. If I never see my brother again, it’ll be too soon. Not that I’ll ever get the chance. I’ve been tied to these railroad tracks for a few hours now, patiently waiting for a train to end it all. With the blindfold over my eyes, it’s hard to tell what time of day it is, but with the heat radiating off the metal underneath me, I knew the sun must be high in the sky. If a train didn’t end it, heat stroke or dehydration most certainly would.
When I heard the horse, at first, I thought that the heat had started to bring me hallucinations. It was odd. I had assumed that heat visions were just that, visual. The sound of steam being released into the air made me certain that I was firm in the grips of the desert madness until he spoke.
“You seem to be in a bit of a bind. Normally, I’d mind my business, but curiosity has gotten the better of me. What could a lovely lady like yourself have done to warrant being tied to these tracks?” There was an actual person… wild. What was releasing steam? Maybe I am hallucinating.
Licking my lips in a vain attempt to wet them, I tried to say something but had to stop and clear my throat. The sand and dry air had already done a number on me.
“I’d love to tell you… If you would be kind enough to untie me.” I could hear the man kneel down by my head, his shadow falling over me, blocking out some of the direct heat from the sun.
“I think I should hear your story first. You may be tied up for a good reason. I don’t want to go releasing you if you deserve to be where you’ve gotten yourself.”
I released a long, weary sigh.
“It’s simple, really,” I said with as much of a shrug as I could manage while tied to wood and steel.
“My brother owes Mr. Madison money.”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with your current situation, lass.”
“Mr. Madison’s goons apprehended me early this morning. Either my bother gives him the money, or I’m left out here to meet whichever fate finds me first.”
“And seeing as you’re still here, I’m guessing that your bother hasn’t found a way to pay this, Mr. Madison, his money.”
I rolled my head, partly in exasperation and partially to relieve some of the ache from my neck. Being tied to railroad tracks is rather uncomfortable.
“He’s managed to do less than try. He was out here a few hours ago. Said this was the least I could do for him. Dying to rid him of his debts.” Turning my head to the side, I would have spat in anger, but my mouth was much too dry. I scowled instead, teeth grinding together.
“I hope his sorry ass is disembodied by a bull.”
“We may be able to arrange that.” The man said with a chuckle before leaning over me. Fingers brushed against my face, following the edges of the blindfold back behind my head so it could be removed. I blinked in the sudden light, squinting up at the dark figure blotting out the sun. There was a hat atop his head, but coming from the sides of his face, there seemed to be metal points. In fact, the longer I looked up at him, the more he seemed to be made of metal. Blue eyes glowed down at me as he watched for my reaction, a slight smile playing across his lips.
Pulling a knife from a boot, the man leaned over and sliced the ropes holding me down. Fingers took mine, and he helped me to sit up, a hand going to the small of my back to keep me steady as spots appeared in my vision and the world seemed to swirl around me.
“Careful there, darling. Heat’s already done a number on you.”
A canteen of water was carefully pressed to my lips, and I drank greedily, one of my hands gripping his wrist to keep myself steady.
“Thank you,” I murmured, leaning heavily against this metal man.
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