I Love You...This...Much.

by Puddleofpissesfics

Summary:

“I love you.”
It sounds like a curse word on the tall, ill-shaped man’s serpent tongue.

The homeowner stepped back, raising the gun. His ears were still ringing from the intruder's loud breaking down of his door. His head was spinning, fear engulfing all logic—pure fight or flight—and the flight response was practically blaring alarms in his throbbing head.

Notes:

Basically, Intruder breaks into Protag's house after Protag lied, saying he wasn't alone, even though he WAS.
It contains cannibalism further in. There's a bit of comfort in it, but mainly hurt no comfort :)

English isn't my first language, and I haven't written a full fanfic in ages
It's just gonna be a short story, depending on how far I get into it! <3

Chapter 1: The close I come, the further you go

“I love you.”

It sounds like a curse word on the tall, ill-shaped man’s serpent tongue.

 

The homeowner stepped back, raising the gun. His ears were still ringing from the intruder's loud breaking down of his door. His head was spinning, fear engulfing all logic—pure fight or flight—and the flight response was practically blaring alarms in his throbbing head.

He looked down. He had clutched the over-and-under double-barreled shotgun so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Not nearly the same eerie white shade the pale being before him displayed so confidently, so proudly, as if that unnatural color was normal.

Disgusting. He truly hated these things. They pretended to be human, pretended to understand humans as beings. The way the pale one spoke to him—“Despair gives courage to the coward,” “Life changed. You're falling out of rhythm.”—God, how he hated that it was true. He was falling out of rhythm, and frighteningly fast.

“You don’t love me, freak,” he barked, raising the barrel and aiming perfectly straight between the tall one’s eyes. They were looking in their own directions, upwards and outward. The eyes slowly—eerily slowly—dragged around in his skull, rolling as if they were about to fall out onto the floor and stare up at the homeowner from below.

But no; after their torturously slow wandering in the being’s own skull, they landed directly on him. Oh fuck. It felt like those black voids were peeling the skin off his face, digging long, spindly fingers under his eyelids and eyeballs, peering into his very soul—his very existence. The homeowner stumbled back with the force of his own shudder. He had to blink three times. He could practically feel the throb in his head, the pain exploding behind his eyes—even if it wasn’t real, nothing but a sick and twisted intrusion of thought. All of this happened in barely five seconds. The intruder tilted his head, each small movement followed by popping bones, ticking like the slow hand of a clock.

The homeowner felt the air grow colder—unbearably so. Tremors of fear and chill alike ran through his body.

“I do, sweetheart. I do love you.” The intruder said "sweetheart," as if the homeowner’s existence meant something to him.

“Don’t fucking call me that. Who do you think you are?!” The short-haired brunette emphasized the word fuck—a pathetic attempt at control. At anger.

 

Angry? Sure. He was unquestionably enraged. But the anger stood face-to-face with pure fright. It made the hair on the back of his neck prickle and sent countless small bumps rising across his skin, covering him head to toe.

 

“I hear your heart.”

“Bullshit.”

A silent footstep. For someone this massive, his padded feet made no sound. An apex predator’s trait. A flaw in humans.

“I do.”

Another step. His elongated legs bent at the knees to let his towering 7’3” frame fit into the low-ceilinged home—an alarming sight.

“You… fuuuu- You don’t!” It was almost comical how quickly the homeowner’s pride faded, how stubbornness wore down as the initial shock of the door being kicked in faded.

He kept the shotgun aimed, eyes glued to the intruder as he backed away, ready to fire at any sudden movement.

“It’s racing. Put the gun down. I want to keep… you… safe…”

Absolute bullshit. Lies. Deception. But the sheer desperation lurking in that halting, raspy, pitched voice felt real.

 

The intruder kept walking forward. The homeowner didn’t know what he was backing into—a wall, a table, something in the hall. God knows. But he was too afraid to look away. Too afraid that if he blinked, all he’d see was black. Too afraid that if he closed his eyes, they might never open again. That could be a good thing. Then he wouldn’t have to look at this monster’s face ever again. He wanted to pull the trigger right then. He wanted to end this thing—end it and then himself. He had seen too much to ever return to a normal life… if being a hermit even counted as normal.

---

He could hear it. The thud of the weak heart against ribs. Human hearts—oh, so weak. He could feel the others he had crushed in his very palm, how they sputtered their last bursts of energy, their last sprays of blood escaping the holes. The very first time he held a human heart… he had… damn, he didn’t remember much.

Only that he suddenly gained human consciousness—the only truly human trait he possessed. Consciousness. A funny concept. Why be conscious when living empty-minded was easier? Nothing to worry about except orders from a superior in the hierarchy.

 

Orders given by her. She gave him consciousness, made him a top dog.

Dogs. That’s all, everyone was.

 

He cocked his head the opposite way now, bones popping again, almost more out of place than before. The shudder that shot through his human made the pale man wonder—why was he so afraid? He was safe. The intruder had said so. And he didn’t like liars, nor was he one.

The intruder exhaled through his nose—a sigh. The most human expression the short man had probably ever seen from him. He folded at the waist with a loud, obnoxious snap. It lowered his height, making it easier to move through the human house. He moved quickly. His padded, animal-like feet made his steps silent and efficient—perfect for stalking prey.

But he didn’t want to stalk this human. He wanted the human to watch him approach. He wanted every step he took to be followed by another.

The silence was tense. He moved forward, black eyes seeming to glint in the dying light from the bulb in the ceiling. He stalked towards the human, his breath growing ragged, an uncomfortable but not uninvited sensation creeping through his very being.

The Intruder is coming closer.

The closer he comes, the more he feels himself feeling hollow inside, like his guts, if you can call the black sludge guts, grow emptier. His mouth began to salivate, the grin pulling at his cheeks until they dipped black into his skull at the cheekbones. His teeth were pure white and straight. His eyes rolled back again, an unholy sound escaping him—rumbling from his chest like a mockery of laughter.

Thick, stringy black goo drooled from his mouth, hanging in a single strand before snapping with a disturbing wet pop and falling to the floor with a thud that seemed too loud in the silence.

 

“C’mon, sweetheart…Please,” The being was growing desperate. His orders were to kill this human, yet he didn’t want to kill his human. He wanted to keep him safe. The pale man came closer again. Closer

Closer

“Sweethearttt~”

Closer.

“Liiiiisten..”

Closer.

“I love you.”

Closer.

---

The homeowner kept backing away, his heart fluttering in his chest like a bird trapped in a too-small cage. It felt like it would burst straight through his ribs and fall into the pale one’s hands—a nightmarish idea.

 

“You don't love shit. You can’t feel love!!” The words tore from his lips so harshly that spittle flew—so different, so thin and transparent compared to the black ooze dripping from the intruder’s mouth.

The accusation seemed to halt the intruder, who was now only a few feet away.

 

His eyes focused sharply on the homeowner, as if poisoned, as if he wanted to infect the human with a single glance. His grin twitched—not wider, but smaller. His eyes narrowed, less satanic, as though he were thinking. Digging for an argument. Digging for the feeling he claimed he had.

The pause stretched long. Long enough for the homeowner to turn and bolt down the hall. He ran, feet slamming against the wooden floorboards with such volume that the intruder jerked, his hand flying to his head. The being had been listening to the human’s heartbeat, his breath, the rush of his blood—so the sudden noise tore at his hypersensitive ears, ringing through his skull.

 

The homeowner’s hope was short-lived. He heard the slam of a body hitting a wall. The intruder was chasing him: disoriented, wild. Ramming his shoulder into a corner before barreling down the stretch after him.

 

The homeowner yanked at his bedroom door so hard it nearly ripped off the hinges, then slammed it shut. Dust rained from the ceiling, clogging his lungs until he coughed.

He turned to the window—the one he never looked out of. But he’d have to, if he wanted to escape. If he wanted to live.

 

He doubted he did… but he certainly wasn’t going to die at the hands of a monster like the pale one.

 

The door—never as sturdy as the front one—stood no chance against the unholy being on the other side. It shattered with a sickening crack, striking fear into the man who was barely halfway out the window. The curtains were yanked aside, exposing the very window he’d spent years refusing to acknowledge. He couldn’t squeeze through; it didn’t open far enough. And the realization hit him—like being shocked awake by a bucket of ice-cold water.

“Fuck fuck fuck!”

“Please—shit—please!!”

He cried, tears exploding hot and relentless down his cheeks. Men didn’t cry. His father had drilled that into him when he was young—when he was defenseless.

 

He hadn’t felt this defenseless in years. Decades. Not since his father’s fists had been punishment for the most human things. He remembered feeling like a kicked puppy under that gaze. Remembered curling into corners, begging for his mother, for a savior, for mercy.

Chapter 2: Despair gives courage to the coward

Summary:

The other things had been enjoyable; this was intoxicating.
He was drunk on the taste and smell of his human. The taste of flesh without the blood—Sweat and fear all mingling into one appetizing cocktail—A taste the pale one just can’t resist, not even in his own good will.

…

He barely realized what was happening until it was over: the intruder had dragged him back inside by the ankle, his head cracking against the windowsill and sending him spinning into old memories. By the time he resurfaced, he was curled on his bed in a fetal position, crying—his gun discarded somewhere on the floor. The pale one had bent it with ease, not for his own safety—gunshots meant nothing to him—but for the human’s. His human was the type to end his own life before letting a monster touch him, and that thought was a nightmare for the intruder. He yearned for human touch—his human’s touch—yearned to disobey every order just to keep the man safe.

 

Oh, how he loved his human.

 

“Hush…Shhh—Shhhhhh.” It wasn’t as comforting as the pale one intended. It sounded more like a hiss than a hush.

A cold hand cupped the man’s warm, tear-streaked face—so cold it made him jerk, and the monster tilted his head in curiosity. Humans were so warm.

“S–Shit…Please—Augh” Pathetic, the homeowner thought, sobbing and whimpering—groveling at a monster’s mercy. At a monster’s hands.

“Easy, sweetheartttt~” The creature grinned wickedly, almost amused by the fear. By the way the man curled in on himself, hugging his own body as he begged for a shred of mercy.

 

The argument the pale one had dug for—dug for in his decayed mind—appeared like a light in the darkness. And he understood. He finally understood why he loved this human.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Why so stressed? Didn’t I tell you to calm down?” The Intruder purred. His grin melted into something softer, almost tender—yet the mockery in it still gleamed.

 

As the silence dragged on, the intruder spoke up again.

“I love you.”

Silence..

“I…”

—A sob—

“Love…”

No…

“Stop—Stop it—”

“You…”

The Intruder tilted his head. Why was the human so resistant? Why was his human so resistant toward him, him of all beings? Him, who loved him. The only one who loved him.

 

“Why stop, sweetheart?” The Intruder asked. An honest question, falling from thin, diseased lips.

“You don’t love me—Please, stop…Stop saying it…” The homeowner choked, words barely tumbling from his lips.

“No.” And just like that, the homeowner was forced into silence. No—such a simple word, yet so powerful.

 

He opened his mouth, trying to argue, to refuse to submit the way he used to. When he was weak. He wasn’t weak—no, he wasn’t. That’s what he told himself. The hand cradling his cheek slid down to his mouth, sharply grabbing his jaw. The homeowner’s face burned hot the instant he was seized, his body quivering with dread as he was forced to meet the eyes of his own doom.

 

“No,” the pale one repeated. The word felt like it dragged the homeowner beneath dark water.

Positioned awkwardly, the Intruder managed to lean in—one hand planted on the bed, long spindly fingers gripping the sheets, the other clamped around the homeowner’s jaw to keep him still and somewhat silent—aside from the occasional gasped breath and choked sobs, the homeowner lay curled on his side, head turned upward toward the ceiling—toward the creature above him, casting a shadow over the already swallowing darkness of the bedroom, faintly lit by moonlight through the open window.

 

“I love you.” The Intruder insisted.

The homeowner wanted—desperately—to believe he didn’t mean it.

“I may not…understand…human connection forged by love. But I understand the emptiness that aches in me. I have stalked you, my human, for weeks, days, hours. I wait for you to be alone. For me.” Oh, how innocent it sounded. How tender his voice pretended to be—words meant to comfort, but only bringing terror.

 

“I have stalked others curiously before you. I saw people in pairs—one always crying from the state of the world, the other comforting them… I am doing that—with you—aren’t I?”

A question the homeowner couldn’t answer. Didn't want to.

“I never understood why. But now, you cry before me, under me, sweetheart. And all I want to do… all I want to do is…” Even the pale one fell silent.

What did he want? The thought gnawed at the shaking homeowner, tears still running down his face, though he was quiet now.

 

“Hmmm~” A purr, a low rumble from the pale one’s chest.

He leaned in, as if experimenting. So slowly it gave the homeowner time to pull away—time he couldn’t use. Time that was a lie, deceptive, because the hand gripping his jaw held him firmly in place.

He bent down, back protruding, each spinous process visible along his spine. The bend of his body was unnatural, twisted to fit over the man trapped beneath his too-large frame.

“You smell so good, sweetheart~.. Mmgh—Don't cry…” The Intruder whined, a long serpent tongue slipping from his unnerving maw.

The homeowner’s eyes snapped so wide they felt like they could burst. Red blood vessels popped under the pressure of panic, bloodshot creeping through his sclera.

His mind, which moments ago flirted with submission, snapped back into fight. Adrenaline surged—his thoughts shut down—his body acted on its own.

 

He balled his trembling, weak fist. And seeing the opening—the pale one stupidly thinking the man had submitted—the homeowner slammed a curled fist straight into the creature’s jaw.

 

CRACK.

 

The sound of breaking bone echoed. The hungry gnawing of the monster ceased abruptly. Its head jerked to the side. Its guard had been down—too relaxed, too careless—leaving itself vulnerable to an explosive human. A mistake.

 

But the biggest mistake was letting the man realize the creature could be hurt—if its guard dropped enough.

 

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

The homeowner heaved. He tried his luck again—another punch landed.

But the Intruder barely budged. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes sharp.

 

“Foolish—Foooooooolish humaaaaan~” A grin cracked across his face, stretching sagging skin.

The homeowner jumped, flinching on the bed. His hand was caught mid-air, slammed down, and dragged their faces close enough for their noses to brush.

 

The pale one’s cold breath suffocated the homeowner’s lungs, while the Intruder eagerly breathed in his warm breath.

 

“Soooooo… sweeeetttt~” The man hummed, the serpent tongue sliding out to lick the homeowner’s cheek.

The homeowner recoiled in disgust. The tongue was so raw it felt like it scraped his skin—but with his luck, the black, viscous saliva coating it softened the stroke of the predator’s tongue against his flesh.

 

The intruder licked up the human’s cheek, savoring the taste of salt—he’d licked human tears before, out of curiosity—but never his human’s tears. These were sweeter than the others.

“Perrrrfect~… You’re so perfect for me, sweetheart!” The pale man cackled as he stared directly into the man’s eyes.

It felt like staring into space. The homeowner saw no sign of empathy or mercy in the intruder’s gaze—only darkness, a void that smothered him in fear.

 

“No—” He flinched when the intruder leaned closer. The homeowner snapped his head aside, refusing to meet those eyes that filled him with such dread.

 

This seemed to confuse the monster above him. It cocked its head, curious. The intruder hummed and chased the human’s face, only for the man to keep turning away, side to side, again and again.

“Sweetheart,” the intruder growled, frustration beginning to seep through.

He leaned in; the human turned his head again.

“Stop it.”

Again—the same.

“Stay. Still.”

 

Finally, he seized the man’s jaw. The homeowner remained curled in on himself, tears rolling down his face, mixing with his own sweat and the intruder’s black saliva.

 

The homeowner couldn’t find his voice. He was silent. Helpless. Fuck, he wanted to submit, but his mind forced him against it…

Never. He would never curl in on himself and submit. He had promised himself that after his wife—the sweetest woman, the one who had given him a sense of worth—died all those years ago. When he became a hermit, he vowed never to open up again, never to cry, never to fold beneath another person. That’s why he found his salvation in his gun.

 

His gun was now discarded across the room.

 

“Please…Please don’t– don’t hurt me…”

The homeowner choked on his words—the tears began flowing again, rolling restlessly down his face—Sobs coming from his trembling lips once more.

The intruder stopped, eyebrows furrowing. Hurt him? The intruder could never, never hurt his dearest human. He was almost offended that the man thought he was going to hurt him. The audacity of the human curled in on himself underneath him.

 

“Hurt you? Hurt…You?” The intruder sneered. He leaned in so their faces were pressed into one another's.

Cold and clammy skin pressed to the homeowner’s own warm and wet flesh—wet from tears and snot—He couldn’t stop crying, even if he wanted to.

 

“I could never hurt you.” The intruder breathed—He felt like the human’s words were an attack.

A low hum that rumbled like distant thunder in the pale one's chest.

“Hmm, not out of my own goodwill.” Not comforting most slightly, the human hated every part of listening to that—listening to the way the intruder’s chest rumbled so he could feel it.

“Please—” The homeowner managed to plead—Hoping—wishing it would help him.

 

But wish, hope, and want are nothing but a dream in this situation.

He knew that—hope was long gone, so was want—The only want in this suddenly swallowing room was the being above him, shadowing his whole being—All the human saw was a row of pale-white teeth grinning down at him, skin stretching unnaturally across his face.

 

“Please what, sweetheart?” The intruder hummed as he leaned down, pressing his face into the crook of the man’s neck.

The homeowner’s body shook with distress as he felt cold puffs of air flutter across his skin. It was unbearable—The feeling of cold air mingling with the charged heat in the room, sweltering his body—Clammy lips were next to press to his neck. The human let out a whole flinch, his body going rigid and reacting within the same second.

 

He hasn’t had any intimate contact with anyone since his wife died—So this? This was unnatural.

And he hated every part of it.

 

He had no word in this, not even a noise. He was shocked to his very core as those unwanted lips of another roamed the length of his neck—gliding up to slide right back down and across—only to stop at the homeowner’s throat.

“I love you.” The intruder tried to confess again, as if now it would mean more—Be intimate—As if the creature had any understanding of intimacy.

The words shook through the man’s flesh, making the biology inside his throat tingle. He hated how that felt.

 

“...” He tried—he did—he really tried to speak, but only a hiccup from holding his breath left his lips.

The Intruder took no mercy; his lips began pecking at the human’s skin—curious—he knew nothing of intimacy, but he was willing to try.

 

He kissed the man’s neck, his thin lips feeling cold and out of place on human flesh. It felt more natural to gnaw at their bones—this shall do for now.

 

The pale man listened to the inferior’s sobs and heaves for air. It wasn’t pleasing like listening to screams of terror—No, this was in a field of its own.

The other things had been enjoyable; this was intoxicating.

He was drunk on the taste and smell of his human. The taste of flesh without the blood—Sweat and fear all mingling into one appetizing cocktail—A taste the pale one just can’t resist, not even in his own good will.

 

His nature won’t allow it—won’t let him pass up on a taste of something so flavoursome.

Notes:

Hope ya'll are liking it so far
I'm planning on having about 1k-2k words per chapter!

Chapter 3: Beauty isn't just a physical thing

Summary:

He inhaled too quickly, shoulders folding forward as if bracing himself. His narrowing and wide eyes locked onto the human—seeing pure terror etched across his human’s face—fear of him—dragging him into a deep realization.
He was threatening his human. How could he be so stupid as to scare his mate?

Notes:

Heyaa. Maybe, maybe not y'all will see i've changed the tags a little bit. I decided not to go full cannibalism and loss of limbs, plus the blood and gore tag. Sorry to anyone who may have wanted that :,)
Instead I decided to take a different route, something a specific someone gave me ideasss to. If you see this note, i love your ideas. Fucking love em.

His eyes shut tight, his eyebrows furrowed. It almost felt human, being so expressive again.

The intruder growled as he—reluctantly—moved his face from the human’s neck, leaving a string of black saliva to stretch taunt between the thin lips of a monster to the live throat of a human. The weak string snapped.

 

He could hear the short-lived relief in the human’s exhale. But the reason it was short-lived was due to the pale man turning him completely to his back—grabbing the human’s sweater—long fingers gripping the knitted and now sweat-soaked fabric.

 

The homeowner’s breath clumped in his throat, a rise of bile filling the back of his mouth with a sickly taste.

“Sto–” he barely managed, forced to keep the words silent behind his lips.

 

RIIIIIIP

 

The fabric gave way instantly as superhuman strength tore it. A sharp cry left the man, followed by a deep swallow that clicked in his throat as he tried not to puke.

 

The intruder croaked—A dry noise that seemed to be a way to let out some of the shimmering excitement within the being.

“Hmmrgh,” The intruder moaned as he let go of the human completely. The man thought he might die right there. Not from being torn apart—That’s not what he fears right now.

It’s the disturbing feeling of cold breath on his bare torso, the sweat trickling down his skin. He wasn’t exactly perfect. Ever since his wife died, he really embraced his “hermit” role. He didn’t exactly shave, so he had dark specks scattered across his chest and trailing down under the waistband of his pants—Same on his arms, hair—He wasn’t exactly skinny either, unless you count ribs visible as skinny; But the body fat he had gained obviously proved otherwise—Chubby, but not fat.

 

He hated the sight of himself—He had never felt like this, this exact feeling caving in on his chest, not until now—exposed and vulnerable in front of a being that finds amusement in his distress.

 

The intruder noticed the quick well of tears in the human’s eyes, the way those green eyes puffed and reddened within the same second he ripped the garment apart.

He kept staring, deep into those green eyes—He had never found colors fascinating, never found them important enough to pick favorites of—But now, he’s sure he has one.

 

“Soooo beautiful, sweetheart.” The Intruder hummed, he pressed down—His body now more on the homeowner’s—Cold flesh on warm.

The homeowner let out a noise, not really a cry, yet not really a whine.

 

“Stop lying.” The homeowner, with now free hands, wiped his puffy eyes with the ball of his hands.

The intruder cocked his head, the neck popping uncomfortably as he stared curiously—Why should he stop? He was speaking his mind. His human is beautiful.

“I don’t lie.” He whispered, pressing into the neck of the human once more. He licked slowly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the flushed skin.

Spindly fingers, with sharp nails and dirt caked all over, greedily pawed at the human. One slid up the side of the homeowner, grabbing the soft flesh on the side of the human’s chest roughly—It was soft, comfortably so. It felt natural under the pale one’s hands.

 

“Beautiful,” He emphasized the word to give it more meaning, more depth.

“No—”

Silenced by a hand coming to his mouth

“Yeees, very.”

In that moment, any argument the human man had was going to be stopped by the pale man.

 

The homeowner groaned. He felt a hand roam him—It was like a dagger of ice roaming his sweat-slick skin.

He felt cold lips slide over his neck.

No–

Stop it!

He turned his head down, tucking his chin to his throat to deny access to the monster. His attempt was met with resistance. The pale one turned his head to the side of the human’s neck instead, but when the homeowner kept moving his head, the pale man got enough.

 

“Still.” The intruder sneered—Using the hand spanning over the man’s mouth to shove his head back, exposing the flesh of his neck.

The homeowner shut his eyes, letting out a whimper as he couldn’t protest with words—he was utterly silenced, against his very will.

A tongue slid up his neck, long, cold, rough—very rough—But to the human’s luck, the amount of saliva coating the serpent muscle seemed to smoothen it.

Didn’t make it less uncomfortable.

 

“You taste—ngh…so good, sweetheart.” The pale one groaned against the human’s throat—sharp teeth placed right against the man’s throat. It was uncomfortable, terribly so—Those teeth could rip into him, at any point if the intruder grew bored with him.

“Aah,” He could feel the grin spreading, that smile stretching across the open mouth against his throat.

The intruder’s breathy noises didn’t even sound genuine—like he was trying to mimic humans—trying to ease the man below him by acting more humane than he was, and looked..

 

Just as his eyes began to roll back, his face turning redder and more colorful, he felt the pale one’s palm—moist with tears, spit from sobs, and hot human breath—lift from his mouth.

He sucked in air as his life depended on it, which it also did. He couldn’t breathe properly. Wheezing and coughing, he closed his teary eyes and heaved for the oxygen he was finally granted.

 

Though breathing was only a momentary gift...

 

What the hell.

Cold and clammy lips.

No

A tongue

Stop—This is wrong—

 

His eyes widened as he stared up at the being over him—Eyes shut, black and greasy hair dropping into the homeowner’s face.

He felt the slimy tongue fill his mouth; it scraped against his own tongue—a powerful muscle, his own stood no chance to try and push out or resist the invasion.

The lips were merciless on their own. It was obvious the being had never kissed anyone—The homeowner was a bad kisser too, his wife had said so, but this? This was even worse.

 

“Ugh—” the man gagged as the pale one’s tongue went down his throat, licking the roof of his mouth.

This time, the man was in luck that something was short-lived. The being pulled away with his tongue slipping out—a wet noise separated them—the string of their mixed spit was thick, black, and slightly transparent, pulling taut before the pale man reached up and used his thumb to wipe the man’s mouth.

 

“Tasty,” The intruder simply said before he leaned back.

“What do humans do now?”

A question, a question the human didn’t want to answer—The pale man shrugged and gave a nod to the right with his head.

“Alright then, sweetheart.”

He gave the human another chance to answer, but when none came, he grew tired of waiting.

“Be like that, I'll find out for myself.”

 

The homeowner went rigid through his whole being, his mind reeling at what he just did—it was too late to speak up now—But trying was worth it, wasn’t it?

“Wait!!-” Homeowner’s mouth moved before his mind thought the idea through. The visitor, who was already trying to unbuckle the man's belt, stalled and looked up at the human through its lashes.

“Mhmm?” It rumbled from the Intruder—his hands still on the belt.

 

The man’s breath hitched, the fear of god was still in him—the fear of being dehumanized from everything he had left—Himself.

“I…”

He inhaled sharply

“I got it.” The man uttered. His shaking, sweat-slick hands reached down—down to his belt.

The intruder didn’t remove his hands, though; he kept them there, comfortlessly so. Like he wanted to see the flinch from the man as his hands brushed against those spindly, cold hands—He wanted to see the fright on the homeowner’s face when he realized how oddly sticky and clammy those monstrous hands were—the intruder found merriment in this, of course, he did.

​

“Faaaascinating~ So you’ve come around, sweetheeeeaaarttt?” He crackled, staring down at the human with an unnatural grin—rows of pure white and too many teeth showing in that maw of his.

As if, the homeowner sucked in air to keep from letting out a sob of fear—his hands slapping away the intruder’s, who just chuckled and did as the human desired.

 

“Feisssssty!” The pale one snickered as he dropped his head, but kept his eyes on the human. His head popping, the bones of his nape protruding—like was about to rip through the skin—Then, he lolled his head to the right, the bones grating together and breaking the silence atrociously.

The intruder’s eyes zeroed in on the homeowner’s hands, which hadn’t moved from holding his open belt; he could see their tremors—the sweat coating his palms as he gripped the belt, so his knuckles whitened and his blood vessels protruded beneath the skin.

He dragged his eyes up the human’s shirtless body—the way he stared like a wolf looking at a sheep on the other side of the fence—but not just with that hunger for meat and the shimmering want behind endless orbs of black—something deeper, something the human hated to think the intruder could feel—but finally, the intruder’s eyes locked onto his face.

 

The Intruder hummed before he dropped his upper body onto the man’s.

“You’re shaking.” He said softly, his serpent tongue coming out once more to wet his own lips—coated more in that black spit than before—was he salivating more and more? Gross, the homeowner shuddered.

“No shi—”

“It wasn’t a question.” The Intruder glared up at the human through dark lashes, half-lidded.

 

The homeowner made it easier on himself, shutting his mouth before he aggravated the pale man.

He felt the wet and cold muscle of tongue running up his throat again—the intruder faintly panting, almost like a dog—humorous, he smelt like one too.

 

His hands couldn’t budge, he couldn’t make himself do it—he wouldn’t—

His mind went to work instantly. While the intruder was busy licking his neck, pressing thin lips to the wet flesh, and scraping teeth along the length of it—he looked over, turning his head to the opposite side the intruder was on, as if playing the pale one—making him think he’s inviting him.

Fucking idiot. Says he knows us humans, but he doesn’t know shit! The man thought as he looked at his gun—his savior.

 

Though it was bent. The metal bent downwards—Doesn’t make it useless though, does it?

 

There are still slugs in it—If he shoots those, it’ll explode right in his hands, either killing or injuring him, so his death is inevitable either way.

The homeowner swallowed thickly as he stared at the gun, completely zoning out—Which was a mistake, as the intruder looked the same way the human’s eyes locked.

 

The intruder looked at the gun discarded, then at the human with a deep frown.

“I thought you were smarter than that.” It came gruffly from the pale man, if you can even consider him a man. 

“E-...Excuse me?” The homeowner furrowed his eyebrows as his green eyes snapped back to the Intruder.

The intruder just clicked his tongue. Tch.. Tch.. Tch

 

“I see you eyeing that firearm,” he whispered. His voice was almost rough now, like he was frustrated with the man below him.

The Intruder was daring him, it was in his eyes—that look, those black orbs narrowing, threatening the human with what was to come if he even dared to try and get that gun to fire it.

“So wha—”

“You think I’ll let anyone, let alone you, hurt you?” The Intruder rasped, his chest puffing out almost to seem bigger—as if he wasn’t already.

The homeowner was frozen. How did he know...

---

He couldn’t believe it. Did the human really think he’d just let him end it like that? Right in front of him, too?

Stupid humans, always acting irrationally—he thought. The Intruder looked down at the man’s hesitant hands on the belt. Impatience mixed with newly found frustration.

 

“Do it,” he hissed.

He saw it—the look on the man’s face as his voice grew stronger, rougher. The Intruder felt a sudden pang in his chest, as if it caved in on him.

 

He inhaled too quickly, shoulders folding forward as if bracing himself. His narrowing and wide eyes locked onto the human—seeing pure terror etched across his human’s face—fear of him—dragging him into a deep realization.

He was threatening his human. How could he be so stupid as to scare his mate?

Notes:

Lmao, this was the last text I had written in my docs, so the fourth chapter will maybe be in a bit since I have to work on that now!

Sorry if this chapter maybe feels rushed or poorly made, sorry sorry!