#Protected Us And Made Sure None Of Us Were Hurt
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starlightkun · 2 days ago
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⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre & warnings: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst; blood/injury mentions (but like, alien blood, if that makes a difference?), a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places, a couple crude jokes about alien stuff iykwim (reader’s friends r kind of the worst), this fic is just a rlly sweet soulmate au i swear idk why these tags look horrendous 😭 ⇢ extra info: released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) BUT both parts are out RIGHT NOW ⇢ author’s note: rahhh this one has ALSO been a wip for like over a year and is finally finished!!! this is technically my first sci-fi piece bc i started it before frankenstein complex, but i finished fc wayyy before this one. anyway i loveee my alien!woo and i hope y’all do too ⇢ part two
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“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.
“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”
“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of Jungwoo’s words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.
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“Here, Y/N,” Johnny grinned at you as he pushed another seltzer into your hand. “You’re a bit too sober, kid.”
“Thanks, dude,” you beamed back, popping open the tab one-handed and taking your first swig.
All of your friends were gathered around a firepit on the beach, relaxing and celebrating another friend’s birthday—Taeyong. Said birthday boy, a notorious lightweight, was already pink-cheeked and giggly as he chatted with some of the others. Someone had apparently given Doyoung access to the Spotify playlist for the night, as a ballad suddenly came over the Bluetooth speakers that had previously been playing upbeat tunes. A chorus of groans and jeers rose up around the fire from the other eight of you, while Doyoung loudly and passionately tried to defend himself.
“Give me the phone,” Johnny waved for Doyoung to hand over Jaehyun’s phone—the one connected to the speaker.
Doyoung clutched it protectively to his chest. “No! You guys haven’t let me play any of my songs tonight!”
“Because they either make us cry or put us to sleep,” Yuta scoffed, lunging for the device, but the other man jerked it out of his reach.
“If you two break my fucking phone, you’re buying me a new one and splitting the cost,” Jaehyun warned from where he was sat on the sand next to your feet, lazily leaning his head against your knee.
“Seriously, Doyoung, give him the phone,” Mark insisted.
Doyoung reluctantly handed the phone to Yuta, who passed it along to you, who firmly planted it in Johnny’s waiting palm. “None of you have any taste—”
“I thought it was nice, D—” Taeyong was cut off by a hiccup as he went to pat your friend’s head reassuringly. “It was a nice song, Doyoung…”
“Thanks, Yonggie,” Doyoung rolled his eyes, but didn’t shove him off as Taeyong drunkenly wrapped his limbs around him in what you were sure was supposed to be a comforting hug.
As Johnny went to put on more party-appropriate music and you took another sip of your seltzer, you looked up to the sky over the water. There weren’t as many stars as you would’ve liked, and it was a new moon, so there was no silvery light to come from there either. But it was still a nice night, the air was cool, the fire warm, you were the only ones on this stretch of beach this late at night and had enough alcohol to feed a medium-sized frat.
Then, one star started glowing even brighter than the others, and you realized it was moving across the sky. “Look, guys! A shooting star.”
“Ooh, everybody make a wish!” Donghyuck chirped.
Feeling a bit silly, you closed your eyes and made your wish in your mind, then opened them again to see the shooting star getting bigger, as if it was heading towards you all.
“Hey, are shooting stars supposed to do that?” You asked no one in particular.
“I… don’t think so,” Yuta squinted at it suspiciously.
“Should we like… move?” Mark suggested hesitantly.
“They’re just meteors being burned up in the atmosphere,” Jaehyun shrugged. “Most don’t ever reach Earth.”
Except it was very much getting closer and closer, hurtling even faster through the air than before.
“But some do!” Jaehyun added, rushing to his feet. “I think we should go.”
As everybody started scrambling to pack their things, the meteor was making its final approach, and you could hear the sound of it splitting the air as it took a sudden nosedive towards shore. It finally struck with a cacophony of snapping palm trees and thunderous boom of its impact with the ground. It had thankfully missed all of you, but you could see smoke start rising out of the thick foliage where it did land. You all looked around at each other, mirrored faces of shock.
“We survived,” Donghyuck breathed out, patting his front as if he didn’t believe it. His blanket was sloppily thrown over one of his shoulders as he had one hand on the cooler.
“Dude, you thought we were all going to die, and your first instinct was to save the drinks?” Mark pointed out in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘Where’s my phone?’” Your other friend retorted back. “Going to lecture me on the sanctity of human life when you were about to lose it all for your iPhone?”
As they kept squabbling, you tentatively stepped over the back of your log, towards the trees.
“Y/N?” Johnny said your name questioningly.
“Don’t you guys want to go see it?” You knocked back the rest of your seltzer. “A real-life meteor. Come on, we can all get a piece. It’ll be like, the coolest birthday party souvenir ever.”
Doyoung and Taeyong exchanged uneasy glances. Doyoung spoke up, “I don’t know, that thing was huge…”
“What? You think it was a spaceship or something?” You snickered at the idea, pulling out your phone to turn the flashlight on. “Come on, anybody who’s not a wimp. We’ll bring back enough pieces for the wimps.”
Yuta, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Donghyuck turned out to be the only ones who agreed to come with you. You led the way into the trees, following the slowly thinning smoke trail and path of destroyed palms. The impact site wasn’t very far, and when you first caught a glimpse of the hulking size of its silhouette, you were so glad it had missed. A hundred meters or so over, and all of you would have been crushed by a giant space rock, which is certainly one thing to put on your headstone. Except, as all of your individual flashlight beams shone over it, and you got to see it piece by piece, you realized it was not a meteor. It was all smooth metal, matte chrome in varying colors. A vessel of some kind. From space. A spaceship.
“Holy shit…” You breathed out.
“Oh, we should get the fuck out of here,” Jaehyun said lowly.
“Yeah, no way should first contact be made with our stupid, drunk asses,” Yuta agreed, starting to back up.
“Y/N,” Johnny grabbed your arm to try to pull you back as well, but you stood rooted to the ground. “Y/N, seriously, this is not the rabbit hole to jump down.”
“Maybe she’s figured we’ve gotten plenty of practice with aliens with Mark,” Donghyuck snickered.
You kept staring at the ship, listening to the metal creak and groan. Except those groans weren’t all metallic.
“I think someone’s in there!” You exclaimed, taking off towards it.
Johnny swore as your arm slipped from his grip, and you heard two pairs of footfalls chasing after you. You’d just managed to get a hand and a foot on the ship before a strong pair of arms grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of it.
“Yuta, grab her hands before she claws me!” Johnny yelled from behind you.
As Yuta went to do that, you haphazardly threw out your feet that were now fully off the ground as Johnny lifted you up. You impacted with something on Yuta, who let out a long line of expletives, his hands dropping to grab something low on his own body. You blindly reached back for Johnny, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand and yanking hard, while the other reached under his arm to pinch a pressure point.
“Fuck!” He dropped you. “Yuta! You were supposed to—”
“She kicked me in the balls, man!” Yuta groaned back.
Knowing that you didn’t have long, you raced up the side of the ship. Banging on every panel that you passed by, you yelled out, “Hello? Somebody in there? Are you okay? Hello?”
You finally got to the top-ish of the ship, and one of the panels there felt different than the others. Almost like glass. Pounding your fist against the side of that, hoping it was the cockpit or something, you shouted into it, “Are you okay in there?”
There was another groan that echoed from inside, and it definitely sounded like a person this time. Searching for some kind of emergency release from the outside, you felt around the edge of the whole glass panel. There was no release, but you found a part of the panel that it connected to on the outer hull that had a sizeable dent, big enough for you to get your hand under. Biting your phone in between your teeth to point the flashlight at the dent, you saw that it had exposed an inner latch of some kind.
The sounds of another body climbing up the ship came to your ears, and you whipped around to look at Johnny, already holding your hands up in a defensive fighting position. You took your phone from your mouth just to threaten, “I will bite.”
“I know. Let’s just get this over with before this thing explodes or something, okay?” He held his own hands up in surrender. When you’d relaxed from your fighting stance, he came over to squat down next to you. “So, what are you thinking, kid? We need to bust that?”
“I think?”
“Alright, give me a second.” He hopped back down.
There was another low sound of pain from inside, and you bent closer to the gap as you addressed them, “Just hang in there! My friends and I are going to get you out, okay? Really soon!”
Johnny clambered back up, a large rock now in his hand. You moved out of the way for him to swing the more angled edge of the rock against the latching mechanism. After several swings, you heard a crack of metal, then he was tossing the stone aside. “Jae!” Johnny called out, your other friend joining you two a few seconds later. They each grabbed a side of the glass panel, pushing and pulling it away from the hull.
“Guys?” Donghyuck’s voice suddenly floated up to you, but from the rear of the ship. “I think you should hurry up!”
“No fucking shit!” Jaehyun yelled back, straining as him and Johnny continued battling with the ship.
“I mean, I’m not a spaceship engineer or anything, but I don’t think any of this should be on fire!”
“God dammit!” Johnny groaned. “Yuta!”
“Yep! Recovered! Coming up!” Yuta joined the fray as well, and finally, you heard the last bit of metal holding the panel down snap and give way.
They all fell down as the glass dome now rose on its own, along with a hiss of air pressure. There were dozens of lights and screens inside, all flashing red, lighting up the figure of a man on one of the two seats there. His head was lolled back, arms hanging by his sides.
“Christ, there is someone in there,” Johnny exhaled in shock.
“A fuckin’ alien,” Yuta mimicked the sign of the cross over himself.
“Wrong way, dumbass,” you scoffed, moving along the rim to get closer to the man inside. “You’re not supposed to start on your shoulders.”
“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realize I was in the presence of the Pope herself.”
You shot him another glare as you kneeled down to hook your elbows under the stranger’s arms. “Anybody going to help me?”
“The fire’s getting bigger!” Donghyuck yelled, fear pitching up his voice.
The other guys grabbed the man’s arms as well, helping you yank him up and out. He was all long, lanky limbs and dead weight, which your friends complained about to varying degrees of intensity. With a final tug, you pulled him out to the hull with you, his body flopping back onto you.
“Seriously! I can’t read alien, but I think it’s spreading to the fuel tank or something!” Your friend on the ground shouted in a panic, running around to the side where you were. “Get off there!”
Just then, the spaceman’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with concern, his lips parting for a moment.
“Sorry, introductions later, your ship’s about to explode!” You said, jerking him over the side with you.
Donghyuck half-caught the two of you as you slid down the smooth exterior. Really, he just broke your landing a bit, the two of you still crashing into him at far too high of a speed to be painless, all your limbs smacking each other. The man from the ship made another groan of pain, as you and Donghyuck swore up a storm at your bitten tongues, clocked elbows, and cracked heads. The other three jumped down after you, Johnny and Jaehyun taking the stranger from your arms like they were carrying their drunk friend home from the bar. His feet dragged on the ground between them as the six of you hurried away from the ship. As you came crashing through the foliage again back to your campsite, your other friends all got to their feet to greet you.
“Took long enough!” Mark complained. “Alright, where’s our—Holy shit!”
“You found some guy?” Doyoung asked, pointing to the stranger. “Why does nothing ever go normal and fine when we let Yuta, Y/N, and Donghyuck go off together?”
Before any of you could explain, there was a loud boom from behind you, and you whipped around to see bright, glowing, molten sludge being shot into the air where you just had been. Fire lit up the trees, the night no longer feeling so cold suddenly.
“What was that?!” Taeyong rushed to your side, clinging onto you tightly.
“Spaceship,” Yuta pointed at the fireball. He then pointed at the stranger, “Alien.”
“Seriously?!” Mark’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Like, a real UFO? What did it look like?”
“I was too busy fearing for our lives to take pictures, sorry, Mark.” Donghyuck leaned his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
Doyoung spoke up then, concerned look focused on the man from the ship. “Uh, I think your alien’s dead.”
The spaceman was entirely slack in Johnny and Jaehyun’s grip, head hanging forward as dark droplets fell from his mouth onto the sand. You rushed over, instinctually putting two fingers to the side of his neck, where you guessed a jugular would be if he had one. Please, please, please let him have a heart, and let it be beating. He felt warm, at least, and while you couldn’t find a pulse, you didn’t know if that really meant anything. Instead, you held your fingers under his nose, relieved when you could feel a slight, repetitive exhale of breath.
“He’s breathing!” You announced with relief. A drop of his blood fell onto your hand then, and as you jerked the limb back, not entirely sure what alien blood would do to you. The fleck caught the light of the bonfire and shone blue. A dark navy blue, so dark it almost appeared black at first.
“Definitely an alien…” Yuta crossed himself again.
“Stop that!” You hissed, grabbing a half-drank bottle of water to pour the contents over your hand, washing off the alien blood. “You’d burn up if you stepped foot in a church.”
“Should we take him to a hospital?” Doyoung asked.
“No!” You cried out immediately. “They’d dissect him or something.”
“Y/N, you’re not suggesting we keep him!” Johnny regarded with you wide, incredulous eyes.
“Like a pet alien?” Donghyuck added very helpfully.
“You’re a doctor!” You argued with Johnny.
“A vet! An animal doctor! I’m not even licensed to practice medicine on humans, I wouldn’t know where to start on an alien!”
“Exactly, you don’t need a license to practice on him, he’s not human!”
“Johnny, we all know you’re going to say yes,” Jaehyun grunted, readjusting his hold on the passed-out spaceman. “Come on man, he’s getting heavy.”
“Fine! Fine! I have my kit in my car,” Johnny relented with a big sigh.
“We can take him to my place,” you immediately offered.
The distant sounds of sirens caught your attention, and you all immediately rushed to shut down the campsite. Someone doused the firepit while the speaker was shut off, and the drinks, towels, and blankets were hastily packed up. You all made a run for the cars parked up on the side of the road, as the sirens got even louder. You climbed into Johnny’s backseat before he and Jaehyun pushed the stranger back there with you, then got into the front. The others loaded up into Doyoung’s van, and the two vehicles took off with roars of engines and squeals of tires. You pulled the man’s head up into your lap, wincing as you appraised the damage. His blue blood dripped from his mouth and a significant rip in his jacket on his side. He groaned in pain but didn’t stir otherwise. Aside from the blue blood, he looked human… hopefully Johnny would be able to do something.
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At your building, Johnny and Jaehyun helped you drag the spaceman up to your apartment on the third floor, and you had them deposit him on your bed. Johnny brought his travel vet kit up from the car, and together, you managed to get the shiny silver jacket off of him. Underneath, he had a fairly plain white top, which was also torn and blood-soaked. Johnny snapped on a pair of gloves before he pushed the hem up to appraise the stranger’s side, where there was a huge gash in his flesh.
“Oh, Christ, okay,” Johnny sighed, inspecting the wound. “I guess I’ll disinfect and suture it up?”
“Just do it,” you mumbled, pressing a towel to the man’s sweat-sheened forehead.
“Jaehyun, mind assisting?”
“You do know the ‘Dr.’ I put in front of my name is just decorative, right? It’s in Poetry—”
“And now you can brag to all your colleagues that you’ve done real medicine like a real doctor,” Johnny snapped back. “Disinfectant, get it.”
With Jaehyun assisting him, Johnny made quick work of patching him up. Pressing the bandages down over the site so the adhesive would stick, Johnny then disposed of his navy-splattered gloves. He grabbed a stethoscope, putting the end up against the spaceman’s chest.
“I think he’s alive?” Johnny announced. “I don’t know. If he is, he doesn’t have a heart because I’m not getting anything.”
He shifted the placement, presumably to listen to his breathing, and an even more bewildered look overtook his features. Sliding the stethoscope over to the right side of the man’s chest, he sat there for a moment, just listening.
“It’s on the other side,” he breathed out. “His heart’s on the right side.”
“But he has a heartbeat?” You clarified.
“Yeah, he does. Faint, but it’s there. He’s breathing, too. A bit shallow, but otherwise normal. I think.”
You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“I don’t think there’s anything else I can do until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”
“Right, thank you Johnny,” you smiled wearily your friend. “I’ll call you when he wakes.”
Jaehyun and Johnny looked at each other skeptically. Jaehyun spoke up, “You’re going to stay here alone with some rando we literally pulled out of a burning hunk of metal?”
“My couch only fits one person. So unless you two are offering to sleep on the floor to protect me or whatever?”
“Call us if anything happens,” Johnny sighed, packing up all of his supplies.
“Of course,” you nodded. “Thanks, guys.”
You heard the sound of your front door clicking shut as you stayed sitting on the edge of your mattress, wiping the spaceman’s face. He really did look human, two eyes that were now shut, lashes resting on his cheeks, a nose practically just like yours, with an elegant slope to the bridge, and a pair of plush, pouty lips. He let out a soft sigh, his head rolling over towards you. But then he went silent and still again. You finished cleaning up his face as best you could, then pulled the covers up over him. Readjusting his bangs that had been stuck together by the damp washcloth you’d used, you gave a final determined nod to nobody in particular before standing up. Grabbing a change of pajamas from your dresser, you got everything you’d need from in here for the night, then went to leave.
“Alright…” You stopped at the threshold of your bedroom, looking over the spaceman’s sleeping figure one last time. “Goodnight, I suppose.”
And with that, you turned the lights out, and quietly closed the door behind you. You were sure to leave it slightly ajar, though, just in case. After taking a much-needed shower and getting ready for bed in your bathroom, you headed out to the living room. You set up a few pillows and blankets into a comfy-enough makeshift bed, then tucked yourself in. Despite the exhaustion in your muscles, the excitement of the night hadn’t worn off yet, and you laid awake for another hour just staring at your bedroom door.
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Waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your living room windows, you covered your eyes with a groan and rolled over to bury your face in the back cushions. The sound of your phone buzzing incessantly from the coffee table came, however, and with a guttural groan, you flopped back over to pick it up.
“Yeah?” You mumbled, not even checking the caller ID.
“Y/N?” It was Yuta on the other end.
“Who the fuck else would it be? You called me at whenever-the-fuck-in-the-morning.”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“Couch,” you corrected him, swinging your feet over as you sat up properly. “I slept on the couch.”
“Gave E.T. your bed? Such a kind hostess.”
The mention of your guest woke you up more. You got to your feet, shuffling towards the bedroom with a yawn. “Yeah, you know me, I’m a fuckin’ peach.”
“So how’s the…” Yuta dropped his voice to whisper into the phone, “Alien?”
The door hadn’t moved since last night, and you cautiously pushed it open to peer inside. You could see the stranger exactly where you had left him, laying on his back under your blankets, chest shallowly rising up and down. Pushing further into the room, you hesitated on whether to try to find a pulse again. You settled for trying once around his wrist, and if it didn’t work, then you’d just have to assume he was fine. Surprisingly, you found his pulse in one go, and it felt steady.
“Fine, I think,” you answered Yuta quietly, walking back over towards your door. “He’s breathing, he has a heartbeat. He’s just not… ambulatory.”
“Still passed out cold?”
“Yeah.”
“Imagine if he was in one of those comas that you don’t wake up from, and we just had to deal with this comatose alien.”
“Stop, you’re going to manifest that or something!” You hissed.
“Not manifesting, just joking.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Anyway, some of us went back to the beach this morning, because Mark really wanted to see the UFO—”
“Don’t touch anything!”
“We couldn’t. The whole place is locked down. Couldn’t even park on the shoulder, it was swarming with cops. They were still putting out the fire.”
“Do you think any of the ship survived?”
“I have no clue. Doyoung said he’d ask his dad about it.” Doyoung’s dad was the fire chief, making your participation in the conflagration last night even more dicey.
“Tell him to call me as soon as he finds out anything.”
“I think he was already planning on that, but I’ll make sure he knows.”
“Good. Also, I’m sorry for kicking you in…” You trailed off as you turned around to see two big brown eyes staring at you from your bed. “I’ve got to go, Yuta. I’ll call you back.”
“What’s hap—” You hung up.
The spaceman was looking around the room warily, regarding you with clear suspicion.
“Hey…” You offered him a smile as you kept your tone of voice soothing and calm. “You’re alright. I’m not going to do anything to you. My name’s Y/N.”
He kept staring blankly at you, and you were starting to fear that he wouldn’t be able to understand you at all.
“You got injured, last night. On your side.”
He pulled up the hem of his shirt, looking at it himself. He tentatively touched the bandages, but didn’t rip them off. There was a small dot of dark blue that had soaked through.
“I’m going to call my friend, to look at it, okay?”
He nodded.
Quickly dialing Johnny’s number, you chewed on your thumbnail anxiously at how long it was taking him to pick up. Finally, the ringing stopped, and a confused groan came from the other end.
“Hey, Johnny,” you greeted him, relieved. Johnny made another inquisitive sound. “Yeah, he’s awake.”
You could heard Johnny make a few more noises of exertion, presumably sitting up in bed. After a yawn, sniffle, and cough (which he thankfully pointed his mic away from), he said real words. “Has he… said anything?” Your friend questioned. “Can you even understand each other?”
“No, he’s not exactly talking… Just sort of nodding. So I think he can understand me at least.”
“Alright—good Lord—I’ll be over in like, thirty.”
“That long?!”
“You woke me up! I need to brush my teeth and shit. Make that forty-five, I still reek of alcohol.”
“Fine. Hey, can you bring some clothes for him, too?”
“What?!”
“I don’t have anything that’ll fit him. You guys are about the same size. Or steal some of Jae’s, I don’t care.”
“Yeah, I’m taking Jaehyun’s. I think they’re a bit closer in size.”
“You don’t want an alien to wear your clothes.”
“Excuse me for feeling weird about that! What if he bleeds on them? I’d have to burn them!”
“So you’re volunteering your roommate’s clothes instead.”
“Well—”
“Just get over here, John.”
“Will do. See you, kid.”
“See you.” You hung up. Turning back to the alien, you announced, “My friend will be here soon. He’s just going to look you over. Are you okay? Like, does anything hurt?”
He stared at you.
“Right, those were two different questions.” You shook your head at yourself. “Do you feel any pain? Anywhere?”
He indicated to the wound on his side.
“Makes sense, you got sliced open by something there. Anything else?”
He held his hands out, and you saw that his left wrist was slightly puffier and swollen than the other.
“Oh, looks like you… sprained your wrist?” You said tentatively. You had no clue how his joints worked or if they could even get sprained like yours, but that’s definitely what it looked like.
He nodded.
“Johnny should have something for that,” you assured him. After a few beats of silence, you tried introductions again. “I’m Y/N. I know I already said that, but uh, it’d be nice to know your name, too? I’m pretty sure you can understand me, since you’ve been answering my questions, mostly. So—”
“Did you capture me, then?” He finally spoke, his voice clear but uncertain.
“What? No,” you laughed, completely caught off-guard by the question. “You’re free to go anytime you want. Your ship crashed, and my friends and I found you. I just want to help, but if you want to go right now, I won’t stop you.”
“This is… not a human hospital?”
“No, it’s not,” you chuckled again. “It’s my bedroom. We uh, we weren’t sure if we should take you to a hospital or not. Didn’t want them taking x-rays of you and finding out you had two hearts or something.”
“Just the one.”
“Yes, and it’s on the right side of your chest, right?”
He stared at you with mild alarm.
“Johnny was listening to your heart last night. Had a difficult time finding it.” You tapped the left side of your chest, right above your own heart. “Ours is usually over here.”
He licked his lips, eyes flitting around before they landed on you again, and he finally said, “My name’s Jungwoo.”
“Jungwoo?” You echoed slowly, making sure you were pronouncing it correctly.
“Yes.”
“If you’re from space, why is your name… Korean?”
“It’s not. It can’t be pronounced by humans. You’re missing a flap.” He gestured to his throat. “I suppose that’s the closest approximation that it could get.”
“It?”
“My transcoder.” He picked up the pendant hanging around his neck, a simple rhombus of flat gold metal. “It’s a translation device. That’s why we can understand each other right now. Thankfully, it didn’t get busted in the crash. I don’t speak human.”
“We don’t all speak one language, you know? We have thousands.”
“Wait, really?”
“Does your whole planet speak one language? Speaking of, where are you from?”
“I’m from far outside this galaxy. I’m not sure telling you the name of my planet would be any help.”
“It’d be interesting.”
“Galaria.”
“So you’re… Galarian?”
“Galarii.”
“Ah, I was close. Never was good at conjugation in grammar class.”
“All Galarii speak the same language, to answer your question. We have some regional dialects, but all of us can understand each other. How does your planet hold conversations, come to agreements about policy or run the government at all?”
“We don’t have one government system for the whole planet, so usually we don’t need to. Everybody who lives near each other tend to speak the same language.”
His brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a slight frown. “Then you must all be so… separated.”
You sat down on the corner of your bed in front of him, hoping this was still a polite, conversational distance for Galarii. “I don’t think it’s so bad. People can always learn more than one language if they want, learn about other cultures.”
“How do people from those different cultures even understand each other, though? You seemed confused about my transcoder, I’m guessing you don’t have anything similar here.”
“Translators. People who learn more than one language and interpret between people who don’t speak the same language. Not to mention computer programs will usually get you the gist of something if you’re in a hurry or don’t have access to a more authentic source.”
“How many governments do you have, then? Two? Three?”
You burst into laughter at the idea. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… well, to spare you from any degree of human politics, let’s say there’s a debate about how many countries we even have, but people usually say about 200.”
“Two hundred?! How do you get anything done?”
“Very slowly,” you snickered, hiking a leg up onto the side of the bed to get comfier. “So, how does your transcoder work, exactly? Like, how is it getting in my brain? Because watching you talk, it looks like you’re saying the words I’m hearing, but you can’t be.”
“Low-level, short-range telepathic wave.”
“Telepathic?!”
“I’m not sure what word it’s picking to translate, but you seem very shocked.”
“For us, telepathy is magic. It’s a superpower, it’s not real.”
“I can assure you, this all has very sound science behind it. Though I’m more of a pilot than a neuroscientist, so I can’t really explain it...”
“Really good pilot, too. Spectacular landing,” you joked, crossing your fingers that Galarii understood sarcasm.
He seemed to, as he let out a cynical chuckle. “Not my finest work.”
“So what happened that made you crash in the first place?”
“Political assassination.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Attempted murder?” Jungwoo tried another phrase, looking down at his transcoder as if inspecting it for damage.
“Am I harboring a space fugitive right now?”
“No, I’m not on the run from anywhere. I was taking a joyride when suddenly the engines began failing. I presume it was meant to look like an accident. I’ll know more after I can inspect my ship.”
“Ooh, about that,” you winced.
“What?”
“Well, it exploded, for one.”
“Yes, that’s what I figured when you told me ‘your ship is about to explode’ and then I heard an explosion.”
“So you remember some of last night!” You pointed victoriously.
“Some,” he agreed mildly. “In a couple brief bouts of consciousness I had.”
“So, yeah, it exploded, and the explosion and resulting fire drew in a lot of attention. A couple of my friends drove by this morning and the whole place is swarmed with firemen and cops still.”
“I’ll just tell them it’s my ship.”
“No.”
“They should release it to the proper owner, what would the problem be?”
“You crashed here from space in a certifiable UFO. If you walked up and say that it’s yours, if they believe you, they’d probably ship you off for dissection, shoot you on the spot, or kill you then ship you off for dissection.”
“That’s not very polite.”
“Sorry, we don’t really get a lot of alien visitors. Or any, that I’m aware of.”
“Very well,” Jungwoo sighed, looking down at his lap dejectedly.
“So we’ll have to sneak in at night.”
“What?”
“If you want to inspect your ship, we’ll have to sneak in after everybody leaves for the night. And, after they’ve put out the fires.”
“You’re suggesting breaking the law?”
“Do you have a problem with that? It’s just light trespassing, and onto a ship that’s yours anyway.”
“No, I don’t have a problem with that.” Jungwoo’s face finally cracked into a smile. “Just clarifying.”
“So… who are you?”
“I’ve told you my name and species.”
“I meant, who are you on your planet? To have somebody trying to assassinate you. Here, usually people that get assassinated are like, politicians, rulers, activists, sometimes celebrities. Ooh, I’ve got it! You’re a pop star or something!”
“No, I’m not a… musician.” The way he said the word made you think the transcoder must have had a hard time finding an equivalent word in his language.
“Actor?”
“I’m not a celebrity. Well, not how you’re suggesting, I believe.”
“Okay, because you’ve got the look.”
“Look? How am I looking at you?”
“No, I mean you’re really pretty.” You gestured vaguely to his face. “You’d fit right in on a red carpet here.”
“I think I will interpret that as a compliment.”
“Maybe,” you grinned and shrugged. “So? What are you? If you’re not a celebrity, why did someone try to kill you?”
“They weren’t trying to kill me.”
“Who were they trying to kill?”
“My brother, presumably,” he said as if this were the most obvious, natural thing in the world.
You raised an eyebrow. “You sound unperturbed by this.”
“Really, this is what I get for stealing his ship.”
“So you are a thief.”
“With permission.”
“Then it’s not stealing.”
“Just like you didn’t want to bore me with Earth politics, I won’t bore you with mine, but let’s say my brother’s very powerful and very controversial,” Jungwoo explained. “He asked that I take his ship and publicly leave the planet on it.”
“So everybody would think he left.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So he could get some paperwork done.”
“What exactly makes him so controversial?”
“None of his policies, really. But people don’t like some choices he’s made in his personal life.”
“Sounds familiar,” you mused, thinking of a few figures on Earth like that as well. “How long was your joyride supposed to take?”
“A few days.”
“Are Galaria days similar to Earth days?”
“I… am not sure.”
“Cool. So what’s going to happen if you don’t come back on time?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run away,” he admitted. “Though he will be pissed that I diverted from the plan.”
“Well, hopefully we can get you back without getting in too much trouble with him,” you offered him a reassuring smile.
“We?”
“I’m not an engineer or anything, but I’ll help you however I can. Even if it’s just holding the flashlight.”
Jungwoo regarded you not with suspicion, but more-so fascination, like he wanted to put you under a microscope. “I take it not all humans are this helpful.”
“I like to think we all want to do good, but it might look different for different people. And some of us haven’t practiced doing good since we were taught to share as kids.”
“Well, thank you, Y/N. I suppose if we’re going to be sneaking in at night, I will need somebody to hold the flashlight.”
“I’m your girl,” you beamed, right as your doorbell rang, accompanied by a solid knock. “That’ll be Johnny. Wait here.”
“Johnny!” You opened your door, head tilting curiously at the extra figures that accompanied him. “And Mark and Donghyuck. What are you guys doing here?”
“Well—” Mark started.
“We want to see the alien, duh,” Donghyuck pushed past you.
You crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s not a freakshow here for your entertainment.”
“Alright, Ms. High-and-Mighty, excuse us for having natural human curiosity,” Donghyuck scoffed, looked around your living room as if you were hiding him somewhere.
“Let Johnny look him over first, then I will ask Jungwoo if he wants to meet you.”
“Sweet!” “Yes!” They high-fived each other.
“Jungwoo?” Johnny repeated with a suspicious eyebrow raised. “His name’s not like ‘Gorgluk’ or something?”
“It could be, for all I know,” you admitted with a shrug. “According to him, we—humans—don’t have the right… throat flaps to say his actual name. That’s the closest approximation his translating device could make, apparently.”
“Right. Cool. Alien named Jungwoo. We going to meet his brother Steve next?”
“You’re not funny.”
“I’m coping.”
Leading Johnny back down the hall, you gently knocked on your bedroom door as you pushed it open. “Hey, Jungwoo, I’m back.”
Jungwoo was right where you’d left him, sitting up in your bed, hands folded over his lap patiently. You saw him stiffen slightly when his eyes moved from you to Johnny as the taller man followed you into the room.
“Jungwoo, this is my friend Johnny. Johnny, this is Jungwoo,” you quietly introduced them.
“Hey,” Johnny nodded to him casually.
“I told you Johnny was going to check you out, remember?”
Jungwoo nodded.
“Does he talk?” Your friend looked at you with a skeptical eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, he’s just shy, or something,” you muttered, walking over to the bedside with Johnny.
Johnny pulled out his stethoscope first, awkwardly listening to the right side of Jungwoo’s chest, then motioned for him to lean forward to listen to his lungs from the back. Once he’d taken the stethoscope out of his ears, Jungwoo spoke.
“You’re a doctor?” The spaceman asked, watching as Johnny opened his kit again to put the tool away.
“Vet.” Johnny answered bluntly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
“Vet?”
“Veterinarian. I am a doctor, but my patients are usually on four legs.”
Jungwoo looked up at you in bewilderment. “There are four-legged humans?”
“Animals. I treat animals.”
“Johnny’s really good,” you assured him. “He’s the one that stitched you up.”
“Speaking of—” Johnny gestured to his side. “You mind?”
Jungwoo wordlessly pulled his shirt up to allow Johnny to inspect the wound.
“I’m going to change the dressings,” the vet declared, beginning to peel the bandage off.
To your disbelief, the wound was half the size as before, and looked almost healed up. The amount of blood on the gauze indicated much more damage than you were seeing.
“What the shit?” Johnny swore under his breath.
“Jungwoo, how’s your wrist?” You asked with wide eyes.
He lifted his left hand up, bending and flexing it with no visible reaction. It was a typical size again. “From your reactions, I take it humans heal at much slower rates?”
“Uh, yeah,” you gulped, still staring at the wound on his side in awe. “It would take us days to heal as much as you have.”
“I-I don’t think I need to change the dressing,” Johnny said, his face completely betraying how weirded out he was by what he was looking at. “There’s no blood or any other… fluids coming out of it. It’s entirely scabbed over, nothing should be getting in there. I can put a band-aid on it so the scab doesn’t catch on any clothes, I guess?”
“Do you have any morphine?” Jungwoo requested.
“It can’t hurt that much, it just looks like you bumped a countertop too hard.”
“I think my rib is broken.”
“What?!”
You looked at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“My skin heals quicker than internal parts. It should be fine in a few days, but it does hurt quite a bit now.”
Johnny looked to you for any sort of cue, at the same time that you looked at him for the same. He presumably thought you knew more about aliens than him, and you were seeking his medical opinion.
“Can you have morphine?” Johnny asked him slowly. “Like, is it compatible with your biology, or whatever?”
“Very much. My body naturally produces some, but I’m afraid the concentration of hydrogen in your atmosphere is inadequate for this level of injury.” Jungwoo looked the two of you over with confusion. “Why are you so hesitant to give me it?”
“Well, it’s sort of… addictive,” you tried to explain. “Doctors tend to try other stuff before jumping for the opioids.”
“My body must process it differently. We’ve never seen opioid addiction on my planet.”
You and Johnny met eyes again before Johnny reached back into his kit. He pulled out a small bottle and syringe. As soon as he took the cap off the needle, Jungwoo’s eyes went wide. “And what are you going to do with that?”
“Inject you?” Johnny replied, bewildered. “Unless you were planning on drinking it?”
“You don’t?”
“No! And I’m not going to let you!” Johnny was clearly at his wits end. “Either I stick you, or you don’t get any.”
“Okay, guys,” you jumped in, uncomfortable with the rising tension. Able to realize when Johnny was at his limit, you turned to Jungwoo. “Will it harm you if you get injected with it instead of drinking it?”
“No, but I would prefer not to,” Jungwoo admitted.
“Alien with trypanophobia?” Johnny scoffed.
At the returned stiffness in Jungwoo’s muscles, you looked at him sympathetically. “Is that it, Jungwoo? You’re afraid of needles?”
“I’m not afraid of them, he has one and I’m not running from the room—”
“But you don’t like them being used on you.”
“Y/N, I have a job,” Johnny sighed, checking his watch. “I can’t do this song and dance with him all day.”
“Jungwoo, are you going to let him inject you? Like I said, doctors avoid giving opiates out, we’re not going to be able to get you any from anywhere else.”
“Y/N will hold your hand, will that help?” Your human friend offered tersely.
“Johnny, don’t patronize him.”
“Very well,” Jungwoo cut Johnny off right as he had opened his mouth to respond to you. “That… is an agreeable compromise.”
Johnny gestured at him while staring you down very pointedly. Not having the energy in you to go back and forth with either of them anymore, you sat down at the head of the bed by Jungwoo and offered your hand out to him. His skin was surprisingly warm as he laid his hand atop yours, and you curled your hand around it, then put your other one on top, giving him a gentle pat and small smile that you hoped looked reassuring.
Jungwoo didn’t look at Johnny as he went back to preparing the injection, instead keeping his eyes trained on you. “I… didn’t realize that humans are so cold.”
“Just me,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “Cold hands. You’re about as warm as other humans I’ve met. My friend Jae is like a human space heater. Hates when I put my cold toes on him during movie night.”
Jungwoo opened his mouth to reply, but his face suddenly scrunched up. Johnny must have put the needle in. The alien squinted one eye open as he continued whatever he had been going to say in the first place. “I don’t mind how cold you are.”
“Done,” Johnny declared, quite literally slapping a band-aid over where he had just injected. “And I’m going to work.”
“Taking the other two with you?” You asked hopefully.
“You promised them an alien.”
“I promised I would ask. They’re not entitled to see him.”
“Whatever, I’ve got to go.” Johnny packed everything up quickly. He gave your hair a quick ruffle. “Bye, kid.”
“Bye, Johnny.” You watched him head for the bedroom door.
“Thank you,” Jungwoo called out to him.
The vet gave a final nod to both of you before slipping back out. You heard a sudden swell of noise as the two younger boys accosted him.
“Who else is here?” Jungwoo asked you.
You bit your lip ruefully as you heard the front door open and close, but the voices of Mark and Donghyuck were still very much audible. “Two more of our friends, Donghyuck and Mark. They were at the beach last night, too, when we found you. They want to meet you, if that’s okay with you. I totally get it if you say no. I’ll be more than happy to kick them out.”
“No, that’s alright. I would like to meet them. They’re your friends, right?”
“I guess I did say that,” you sighed, letting go of his hand and standing up. “Okay, be back.”
Out in your living room, the two younger boys practically assaulted you in their excited states, clinging onto your arms desperately.
“Don’t throw us out! We’ll be so good!” Donghyuck pleaded.
“Johnny told us he talks and stuff?!” Mark was buzzing.
“Cool it,” you chastised them. “He said he wants to meet you. Don’t make me regret this.”
“Fuck yeah!” They fistbumped.
“You two are so lame. Come on.” You stalked back over to your room. Jungwoo perked up when you came back in, regarding the two newcomers studiously.
“Jungwoo, this is Mark and Donghyuck,” you gestured to each in turn. “Guys, this is Jungwoo.”
“It’s nice to meet—” Mark’s polite greeting was cut off by Donghyuck.
“So are you from Mars? Jupiter?”
You slapped a hand over your face with a low groan. Jungwoo almost looked amused, thankfully. “No, I’m not from this Solar System. Or galaxy, for that matter.”
“How can you breathe our air?” Mark asked curiously.
“We have a similar composition on my home planet. Though there’s not as much free hydrogen here…”
“Oh!” You suddenly had an epiphany. “The hydrogen. Will water work? Uhm, dihydrogen monoxide?”
“Yes, that will be an apt replacement.”
“I’ll go get you a glass,” you patted his shoulder before hurrying from the room. The others were still talking as you filled up a cup of water, then walked back in with it. You held it out to Jungwoo. “Here.”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
“So what do you eat?” Donghyuck questioned. “Can you eat our food?”
“I quite like uhm, confections. Desserts.”
“Alien with a sweet tooth…”
“You all keep calling me that. You do realize that to me, you are the aliens?”
“Woah…” Mark breathed out. “You’re right.”
Jungwoo quickly chugged down the glass of water, and you took it back. “I’ll get you another,” you smiled down at him.
Donghyuck perked up, “Oh, Y/N, can I have a—”
“You know where the kitchen is,” you snorted, heading for the door. “I’m not your mom.”
When you returned and handed the cup to Jungwoo again, Mark eyed you with a pout and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re never this nice to us when we get hurt.”
“Yeah, you laughed in Yuta’s face when he broke his leg last year,” Donghyuck narrowed his eyes.
“Because he broke his leg trying to grind an ollie at the skate park at his big age,” you scoffed. “And then had to go into his grown-up job the next day. Tell me how that isn’t funny.”
They exchanged a glance before breaking out into snickers.
“Okay, that is pretty funny,” Donghyuck admitted.
“Exactly.” You glanced at the time on your phone. “Alright, I’m tired of human interaction, you two need to go.”
“But—” Mark gestured wildly to Jungwoo, who was calmly sipping his water.
“My apartment, my rules,” you clicked your tongue, shooing them towards the front door.
“Johnny brought us here, how are we going to get home?” Donghyuck tried to plead with you as you shoved them through your apartment.
“You have bus passes, don’t you?”
“Well yeah—”
“Then, bye!” You opened your door and pushed them out, slamming the door shut behind them. Turning back around, you noticed a stack of clothes on the arm of your couch, and recognized them as some of Jaehyun’s. You grabbed them and took them back with you into your bedroom.
“Ugh, finally,” you sighed, rolling out your neck. “Sorry about them.”
“They were… funny,” Jungwoo settled on an adjective.
You offered out the clothes to your guest. “Here, Johnny brought these for you. My shower is through there, too.” You gestured to your bathroom door. “And I can make something to eat while you freshen up. If you’re hungry. What do you eat? Other than sweet stuff? I don’t have any meat, but I can go get some if you need it—”
“We don’t eat meat, either,” he smiled up at you. “Galarii don’t.”
“Vegetarians?”
“Yes.”
“Well, easy for me, then.” You watched him as he swung his legs around. “You got it? You need any help?”
Jungwoo slowly got to his feet, and you winced as you watched him clutch at his side. Nevertheless, he stayed upright, and took a couple steps forward. “I’ll be alright.”
“Great. Uhm, let me just show you how the shower works and stuff, then I’ll leave you be.” You walked him into the bathroom, pushed back the shower curtain, pointing out the knobs and bottles to Jungwoo. “This one’s for cold water, this one’s for hot water. You have to turn them left to turn them on. Pull this thing up to turn the shower part on instead of the bath. This blue bottle is for shampoo, you do that one first, just on the roots of your hair. Purple one is conditioner, on your ends. Face wash, body wash. Yeah, I think that’s it.”
As you turned back to look at Jungwoo, you realized how close he was as he had leaned in to listen intently to you point out everything. Squinting, you looked closer at a faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose that you hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, I never realized you have freckles,” you commented, blinking a couple times to make sure you were seeing this right. “Or that they were… rainbow? No, just pink? And purple?”
“They’re not freckles.” He touched them as if he were wiping them away, but they didn’t budge. “They’re iridophores, patches of cells that reflect light differently. I believe the fluorescents in here are making them more visible than the dim lighting in the other room.”
“They’re so pretty!” You exclaimed, shifting in another direction so that they were even flashier at this angle, revealing some blue and green as well.
Jungwoo’s hand hovered uncertainly over his face. “You think so?”
“Yeah, of course! What? You don’t?”
“They’re… I don’t know, they’re nothing special on Galaria,” he admitted, dropping his hand to give you a full view of the iridophores. He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to show some of the top of his shoulder, where there were even more, then let it go. “I have them here too. Everyone does.”
“Well, we don’t have stuff like that here,” you informed him with an awestruck grin. “Anyway, I’ll let you shower, sorry. You’re not some specimen for me to gawk at.”
“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind you being curious about me.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you gave him a nod and another smile before leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen.
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By the time Jungwoo was done with his shower, you had made a couple hefty stacks of pancakes, cut up some fruit, and grabbed a jar of Nutella for good measure, remembering his comment about preferring sweets. You filled up two tall glasses of ice water before also making a cup of tea for yourself. You briefly contemplated running to the boba place around the corner, but it was exactly then that you heard the shower turn off, and thought better of it. Jungwoo emerged in a pair of Jaehyun’s jeans and a slouchy, grey crewneck sweater, looking startlingly human, except for the occasional glint of iridophores on his cheeks and nose. His hair was still a bit damp as he came over to curiously inspect the two plates you had placed on your kitchen counter.
“Pancakes and fruit. Grab a plate and sit wherever, I don’t have a table. I usually eat at the couch.” You gestured. Jungwoo followed your lead and sat in the corner of your couch as you plopped down in your armchair. You cracked open your jar of Nutella, offering it out to him.
“What is that?” He questioned, sniffing the air tentatively.
“Chocolate hazelnut spread,” you stuck a spoon in it. “It’s sweet. You’ll probably like it. Most people do.”
He put some on a small part of a pancake, and tried a bite, then immediately dove back in to slather the rest of his pancakes in it.
“Alien with a sweet tooth,” you chuckled to yourself, digging into your own breakfast.
“You don’t have to… stay with me,” Jungwoo told you between bites. “I remember you telling your friends that you were tired of human interaction. I believe that it’s a common human social nicety to entertain house guests, but you won’t offend me if you wish to be alone.”
“That’s… considerate,” you chuckled. “But the operative word there is human. You’re an alien, so I’m not tired of you yet, Jungwoo.”
“Really?”
“Yep,” you grinned at him, popping a piece of fruit in your mouth.
“May I ask… Why am I staying with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“From what Mark and Donghyuck were saying, it sounds like there were many of your friends there last night when my ship crashed. How did it happen that I ended up here with you?”
“Finders keepers, I guess,” you laughed. Jungwoo gave you a funny sort of look at that, which prompted you to further explain. “I’m the one who found your ship in the first place and wanted to look inside at all. I don’t know how much you remember, but I’m kind of the one who pulled you out. Some of the other guys helped me, don’t get me wrong, but if they had their way, you would’ve been left in there. So, I found you, you’re my responsibility. Finders keepers.”
“Ah, I see.”
Your phone buzzed then, and you saw that it was Doyoung calling. “Oh, that’s Doyoung, I’ve got to take this. Sorry, hold on.” Standing up, you didn’t go very far as you walked over to the living room window to look out over the city as you answered. “Hi, Doie, what’s up?”
“Y/N, hey. How’s your alien?” Your friend asked.
“Fine, all things considering.”
“He alive?”
“Alive, awake, eating, talking, the whole shebang.”
“Shit, really?!”
“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, holding your phone mic-out towards Jungwoo, “Jungwoo, say hi to Doyoung?”
Jungwoo covered his mouth as he quickly chewed and swallowed, then called out, “Hello, Doyoung!”
You brought your phone back up to your ear just in time to hear your friend react. “Holy shit!”
“So what’d you find out from your dad? How much of the ship survived?”
“A lot,” he told you. “They’re calling it a hoax, and they’re not letting news reporters get footage. Apparently they don’t want to encourage any copycats. After putting out the fire, they haven’t let anybody on board. They’re just keeping it cordoned off until the police chief and my dad decide what to do with it. Right now it’s a crime scene while they investigate it as an arson case.”
“But the fire’s been put out, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know anything about how it’s being watched?”
“A couple cops at night, I think.” Doyoung’s voice was guarded. “You’re going to sneak the alien back there, aren’t you?”
“He has to get home somehow, Doyoung,” you insisted. “Unless you think we should steal a spaceship from somewhere else that’s fit for intergalactic travel?”
“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with the whole ‘get the alien back home’ idea,” he said defensively. “Just don’t get arrested while you’re at it, alright? Johnny would have a stroke.”
“Yeah, I know, he nearly had one last night and this morning playing alien doctor,” you sighed. “I don’t think he’d bail me and Jungwoo out of jail if it came to it.”
“Call Yuta for your one phone call if you need. He’s good for it.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Or Taeyong, he probably wouldn’t hold it over my head.”
“Good point. Or, even better—don’t get arrested in the first place.”
“Plan A: Don’t get arrested. Plan B: Taeyong. Plan C: Yuta. Plan D: You. Plan E: Jaehyun, who would definitely bring Johnny with him.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Doyoung chuckled. “I’ll leave you and Spock to it then.”
“He has a name, you know.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have all the right flaps, right?”
“Who told you? Donghyuck? Mark?”
“Johnny. He called on the way to work to ask if I knew anything about the ship.”
“Huh…”
“Anyway, I’ll leave you and Stitch be. Holler if you need something.”
“You’re hilarious. You’re fucking hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, hanging up. Plopping back down in your armchair, you relayed the pertinent parts of your conversation to Jungwoo. “According to Doyoung, a lot of your ship survived the explosion. They’ve put the fire out, but there will probably be a couple cops patrolling it at night, so we’ll have to be careful when we go check it out tonight. Until then, I guess we’ll just hang out. Sound good? How are you feeling? How’s your side? Do you need more bandages after showering? I can call Johnny up, probably swing by his office and get some more or see if he can come by on his lunch and take a look at you? Maybe bring some more morphine?”
“I don’t need any more bandages,” Jungwoo shook his hand, lifting the sweatshirt to allow you to see how he’s healed so far. There was still a considerable amount of bruising, but the skin had entirely mended itself, no evidence of a scab, only a dark, puffy scar.
“Does it still hurt?” You asked with a sympathetic grimace. “I know you said you take longer to heal internally than on the outside. I can probably convince him to bring some more morphine for you. I don’t know what your metabolism is like compared to ours, or even how much he gave you last time. I mean, are you in pain?”
“It is painful,” he admitted, dropping his shirt again. “But I don’t—I’ll be fine.”
“Jungwoo, if it hurts—”
“Not that bad.”
You felt a bit mean for this, but you reached out to poke his side, and he immediately let out a yelp, covering his wound and ducking away from you.
“What did you do that for?” He asked you, jaw dropped.
“You liar,” you scoffed, bringing your phone out. “I’m texting Johnny.”
“He will administer it the same way as last time, won’t he?” Jungwoo questioned quietly, stopping your typing.
You put your phone down. “Probably, yeah. He’s not… used to letting people drink that stuff.”
“Then I will be fine without it.”
“Even if I hold your hand again? You can’t do another one?” You asked. “I’ll talk to you, you can squeeze my hand like a stress ball—or we’ll get you a real stress ball, whatever you want.”
He was silent, and you let out a sigh.
“Jungwoo, I don’t like seeing you hurt, you know,” you shook your head, cutting off a piece of your pancakes with the side of your fork, lifting it to your mouth. “But it’s up to you, I’m not going to hold you down and make him stick you or anything.”
With a flash of iridophores, Jungwoo’s head turned, and his eyes were focused back on you, his hands wringing together. “I’ll do it.”
Your jaw stopped mid-bite. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yes. If Johnny agrees. I get the impression he doesn’t like me very much…”
“No, no, he likes you just fine, I promise!” You reassured him, reaching forward to pat his knee. “I just stress him out, that’s all. I’ll text him right now, okay? We’ll get you feeling better in no time!”
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“Can’t believe he’s making us come to him,” you grumbled, pushing your way through the sidewalks with Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders. “You literally have bruised ribs and fell from the fucking sky last night.”
“I don’t mind,” Jungwoo tried to be diplomatic, even as he held his side with his free hand. “He’s doing me a favor.”
“He’s being an asshole.” You tried to match Jungwoo’s slow, hobbling pace. “Making you come all the way across the city in pain. Risking you being out in public. Goddamn asshole.”
“I don’t mind,” your companion repeated, looking up past the visor of the baseball cap you’d put on him to conceal his glinting iridophore flecks as best as possible. “I haven’t seen much of Earth. Your sky is beautiful. Is it always blue?”
“During the day, yeah, usually. What color is Galaria’s?”
“A bright violet.” He was leaning more of his weight on you, and you stepped into the alcove of a shop door to rest for a moment. The crowd continued hurrying by you as you leaned against the wall and Jungwoo leaned against you.
“Purple sky?” You repeated, staring up at the crystalline blue expanse above you and trying to picture it.
“Yes, most of the time.”
“That sounds really gorgeous.”
“I suppose it is.”
You looked over at him curiously. “You don’t think so?”
“Well, I suppose I’m just so used to it… I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking back to the clear aqua sky above you. “I quite like your blue sky.”
“I think I’d like to see your purple sky someday,” you hummed thoughtfully.
“Really?”
“Yeah, as long as you could bring me back,” you shrugged. “Always wanted to travel.”
Jungwoo blinked down at you, and you shook your head with a chuckle.
“Sorry, that probably sounded like I was asking to run away with you or something. And you’re like, in a bunch of pain,” you laughed at yourself. “I should stop blabbing and get you to the man with the morphine. You ready to keep going?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
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At Johnny’s animal clinic, you had to stay in the waiting room while he finished up with a patient. After he handed the dog back to its owner, and dismissed the front desk attendee for their lunch break, he finally gestured the two of you back. You helped Jungwoo up from his seat, wrapping his arm back around you so you could slowly follow your friend into the back. Johnny held the door open for you all as he led the way into the exam room. You could tell the morphine had been wearing off faster and faster, even though Jungwoo hadn’t said anything. He had been favoring his side more and more, and vocalizing noises of pain more frequently as the day wore on.
“How is it?” Johnny was nice enough to ask as you helped Jungwoo half-sit and half-lean on the exam table. You’d seen some pretty big animals on this thing, you were pretty sure it could handle him.
“Fine,” Jungwoo hissed.
“He’s not bleeding on the outside anymore, but everything’s still pretty banged up internally,” you answered honestly, shooting Jungwoo a pointed look. “Do you think you could like x-ray him while we’re here? See if anything’s broken?”
Johnny stopped where he had been getting supplies from some drawers. “Would x-rays kill him?”
“I mean, you traveled through space, right? Isn’t there a bunch of radiation there?” You asked Jungwoo hopefully. “Johnny can take some pictures of you with x-rays, right?”
“Yes, that will be fine,” Jungwoo nodded minutely.
And so Johnny moved around his portable x-ray machine to take a few images of Jungwoo’s side where the pain was most concentrated. You had to stand outside the room while it was being done, but as soon as Johnny gave you the thumbs-up, you rushed back in, helping Jungwoo sit back up. Johnny took the lead vest back off, leaving him in his white coat again as he went back over to the imaging machine.
“Okay, here we go,” Johnny muttered, clicking a few things on the computer to pull up the images. “Remember, I’m not a human doctor, and definitely not an alien doctor.”
“We know, Johnny,” you retorted.
The first image came up, and you yourself weren’t any kind of doctor, but that definitely didn’t look right. A dark line going right down what you assumed to be a rib, splitting it all the way through. “Yep, your rib’s broken,” Johnny declared, pointing to the severance.
Jungwoo’s brow furrowed with concern. “It shouldn’t—”
“Yeah, no shit. Remember, dude, you fell out of the sky twelve hours ago, I’m surprised you’re alive.”
“No, I should be more healed than that.”
“You said that the lack of hydrogen in the atmosphere was making it so your body couldn’t produce as much natural painkillers, remember? Maybe something is making you heal a bit slower, too,” you suggested reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, it’ll just be a little longer.”
“That’s probably it,” Johnny agreed. “Are you eating enough? I know Y/N only has that vegan crap at her house, you probably need a real meal—”
“His whole planet is vegetarian, you dick.” You flipped him off. “You’d probably kill him if you gave him a steak.”
“Alright, damn,” he held his hands up with a laugh. “Let me just shoot him up with morphine and you two can get out of here, huh? I’ll do a double dose from last time.”
“I need to be able to get him home, John,” you said frankly.
“I’ll drive you.”
“Alright,” you nodded, then looked to the alien. “Sound good Jungwoo? Twice as much as last time? So hopefully it’ll last a bit longer?”
He nodded, his eyes fixated on Johnny as the human had gone back to getting the supplies for the injection. You grabbed his hand without prompting, flashing him a bright smile as you tried to come up with something to talk about to distract him. “So, how else are Earth and Galaria different?” You asked him. “The skies are different colors, we know that. What about the oceans? Do you guys have oceans?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Ours are blue, for the most part. Or, a blue-green.”
“We have—oh,” he wrinkled his nose, but didn’t look away from you. “Pink seas.”
“I think we have a pink sea too, somewhere!” You perked up. “I’d have to look it up, but I’m pretty sure somewhere has pink water. It might be a lake, actually, not a proper sea. Don’t quote me on it…”
Jungwoo smiled at that. “I won’t hold you to it, then.”
“What about like, glaciers? Do you have those? Really big floating chunks of ice in the ocean?”
“Galaria is mostly frozen tundra…”
“Damn, really?! How cold is it there? Wait, there’s like, no way we use anywhere near the same units of measurement for temperature. Your transcoder probably couldn’t help with that, huh?”
“No, we presumably don’t use the temperature scale.”
“All done,” Johnny announced, scooting his chair back and disposing of his needle and gloves. “I’ll take you two home now.”
“Thanks, Johnny.” You smiled up at him, helping Jungwoo up. “How are you feeling, Jungwoo?”
The Galarii took a couple slow blinks. “Mm… starting to feel better…”
“You said morphine doesn’t make you high, does it make you tired?” You questioned, following Johnny out towards the back where his car was parked in the alley.
“Not usually… but my body hasn’t been doing what it’s supposed to be doing the whole time I’ve been here…” he said slowly, narrowly missing hitting his head on the roof as you helped him into the backseat. You scooted in after him, encouraging him to lean against you after you’d buckled him up.
Johnny took off quickly through the streets, occasionally watching the two of you in the rearview mirror. Outside your apartment building, he helped you unload a half-awake Jungwoo, the alien rousing himself just enough to climb the stairs. Giving your friend a final thank-you and goodbye at the entrance to your apartment, you tugged Jungwoo back into your home, guiding him once again back to your bed.
“Come on, time for a nap,” you sighed, encouraging him to lay down. “You need to rest up, dude.”
“Y/N?” He murmured, grabbing your forearm as you went to walk away to leave him in peace.
“Yes?” You stopped, looking down at him attentively. “Do you need something, Jungwoo? Water? Food?”
“Will you just… sit with me? And talk to me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested. “I… find your company soothing.”
“Oh.” You shifted your weight uncertainly between your feet, but acquiesced nevertheless, scooting onto the corner of the mattress near his head. “Sure, Jungwoo. Here, I’ll look up those pink oceans I was talking about, see if I was right.”
And so you read some Wikipedia articles to Jungwoo about various pink lakes and beaches until his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evened out, and you were more than certain that he was asleep. But even after you were sure he was fast asleep, and you stopped reading the article aloud, you stayed right there, silently scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking from your screen over to his face. Because for some reason that you couldn’t put your finger on, you sort of found his presence calming, too.
When it seemed as though Jungwoo was stirring, you quickly got up from your spot and scurried from the room, feeling a bit weird about sitting and watching him sleep the whole time. You had a feeling that he wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want it to be a fact known to anybody but you that you had done that. Truly, you didn’t even want to really admit it to yourself, either. And so, when Jungwoo finally wandered out of your bedroom some hours later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found you tucked into the corner of your couch, in the middle of an episode of a TV show, as if you had been doing that the whole time.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” you greeted him nonchalantly, pausing the episode. “How’d you sleep?”
“Mm, well,” his reply was punctuated by a yawn.
“And how are you feeling?”
“I’m still feeling the painkiller effect, but I am no longer tired.”
“So, do you think you’ll be up for checking out your ship tonight?” You checked the time on your phone. “We can probably eat dinner then head out after.”
“Yes, I would very much like to see it.”
“Cool, let’s do it.”
After eating another modest meal prepared by you, you and Jungwoo headed out. The streets weren’t as busy at night, and with Jungwoo moving fully of his own power again, the two of you were able to make your way through them much quicker. The intel you got from Doyoung was good, the entire expanse of beach was roped off with police tape, and one officer was stationed on either side of the shoreline. Because of how far the fire had spread through the trees, the officers were pretty far from where you remembered the ship being. Getting in and out would be the tricky part, but once you were in, you were certain they would be none the wiser that somebody was there.
Jungwoo followed you silently, and you finally found what you were looking for. The old public access to the beach. When you were little, everyone used to have to take a steep staircase that started right off the highway. After a particular heavy rainy season that brought rockslides from the mountain up above, it was deemed entirely unusable by the city, all markers for it taken away, left in disrepair, and a new, much safer one was made further down the road. There was a ‘CAUTION: ROCKSLIDES’ sign nearby, which is how you knew you were in the right place. The best part was that it was right in the middle of the thicket of trees, meaning that as long as you were quick, you should be able to drop right in undetected.
All boardwalks and rope that had been spared by rockslides and Mother Nature over the years were left untouched by the city government, and you were able to start the steep descent like normal. It was about a third of the way down that things started getting dicey, broken pieces of wood, large gaps that you had to step over, and several areas where you had to test the steadiness of rocks before putting your weight on it because there was no manmade material for you to step on at all. When you and Jungwoo got to the place where the path would’ve diverted to the beach instead of dropping you right into the trees, you bit your bottom lip and resisted cursing aloud. It was a steep drop from where you were. It was too dark for you to see where the ground was, but instinct and memory told you it was too steep for you to just jump down. Looking around desperately, you realized there was a much shallower incline further down the trail, but it was close to where one of the officers was patrolling. You were already too near him for your liking.
A distant voice humming got closer and closer, and you held your breath and held your position, keeping your eyes peeled in the direction of the noise for any sign of movement through the trees. You never did see the police officer, but eventually the humming got further away again, until you stopped hearing it, and you made a break for the shallow area, sliding down the mostly sandy, occasionally rocky hill on your butt. You heard the sounds of Jungwoo hurrying after you, but didn’t look behind you until you were sure you two were well concealed in the trees again. Glancing up at him, you saw his chest heaving, and motioned for him to keep quiet as you listened to the officer run back over towards the road end of his side.
The crackle of a walkie-talkie, then a distant voice. “Hey, I think I heard something. You hear anything?”
After a second, his buddy responded, his voice slightly garbled through the walkie-talkie speaker. “Yeah, you heard a rock fall down the mountain. Rockslide area. Been hearing them all night.”
“Damn, you’re right. Thanks.” And he was gone again.
You took off through the brush at a brisk pace, knowing that Jungwoo would be right behind you. The ship was easy to find, with the concentration of charred and blackened foliage getting greater and greater the closer you got to it. When you finally found it, the spaceship was mostly intact, which the size of the explosion from last night did not lead you to believe. Jungwoo let out a sigh of relief, and did a quick walk-around first. It was when you got to the tail that you saw why there had been such a huge fireball. Four huge canisters that must have housed something flammable were nothing more than metallic flowers now, the material burst open and curling over on itself from the force of the explosion.
“The reactors…” Jungwoo breathed out.
You chewed on your bottom lip, asking quietly, “Is it fixable?”
“I don’t want to say anything until I see the inside.”
You followed him around to the side, where he pressed a button that you had missed last night on account of it being entirely smooth and looking like nothing more than a random dot. A set of hand and foot rails emerged seamlessly from the surface of the hull for you to climb up with. Once the two of you were up at the cockpit, Jungwoo pressed another button up there, and the ladder seemed to melt back into the metal of the ship once again. The glass was still propped open, making it very easy for you to hop down into the ship. Whatever red flashing warning lights that were going off before had deactivated, leaving it in pitch black, and you immediately brought out your phone to turn the flashlight on.
“Ah, thank you,” Jungwoo said as you pointed it at wherever he looked.
“I told you, I’m your flashlight girl,” you grinned.
As he looked over many different panels and controls in the cockpit, you drank in every detail with fascination. While the button on the outside of the ship had functioned seemingly almost like a touchscreen, the ones in here looked analog at least, though you couldn’t figure out for the life of you what a single one was for. You kept your hands to yourself. Jungwoo finally pressed a button, and a screen lit up, one that quaintly reminded you of computers from the nineties in its size and resolution. As he navigated through the program, you watched with interest. He sat down in one of the two chairs, and indicated to the other one for you. You eagerly sat. It was remarkably comfy.
“You seem to be very close to Johnny,” he commented abruptly, spamming one button in particular with a bit of frustration.
“We’re all really close.” You nodded, and the program finally loaded the next screen. “But yeah, I guess John and I are a bit different. Our parents are all friends, so we’ve been friends since we were little. He’s had to deal with my bullshit for our whole lives. We even call each other’s parents Aunt and Uncle, that kind of thing.”
“He is… similar to your cousin?”
“Sort of? I don’t know, he was kind of like a built-in older brother.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you reminisced in childhood memories. “People in our neighborhood and at school did actually think we were cousins. He’s a few years older than me, and I was a bit of a troublemaker. I remember he’d pull me away from getting into fights with kids way bigger than me, or when I’d talk back to teachers, the head teacher always brought the both of us in for a scolding. Something about how he should be keeping his younger cousin in check, too. Poor guy. He took it like a champ. We came to an agreement that he wouldn’t tell my parents if I stopped getting in trouble so much.”
“You’re not so unruly anymore.”
“Oh, I’ve still got a bit of a rebellious streak,” you chuckled. “Johnny always says I’m going to make him go grey. I mean, you and I are literally on a crime scene right now. And I pulled an alien out of a spaceship that was about to explode last night.”
“I suppose that’s true…” Jungwoo trailed off, brow furrowing as what looked like a schematic of some sort came up on the screen. “Hm.”
“Something wrong?”
“Mixed results.”
“What?”
“There are some bad things and some good things.”
“Tell me the bad stuff first.”
“What?”
“When somebody says ‘I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,’ they’re supposed to let you pick if you want to hear the good news or the bad news first,” you explained the small colloquialism. “I want the bad news first, so we can end on the good stuff.”
“I see…” he hummed, clicking a few more things. “The bad news is… I will need to reconstruct the reactors and make other minor repairs.”
“And how long will that take?”
“I do not know Earth measurements of time.”
“You’ve been on Earth for one day now. How many of those do you think it’ll take?”
He took a moment to think about this, then eventually answered, “Twenty to thirty? Maybe more, maybe less, I’m unsure, I was asleep for much of the ‘day’ that I experienced.”
You nodded. “Okay. And the good news?”
“There was no serious structural damage to the hull or critical systems of the ship. Once I reconstruct the reactors and make those repairs, I will be able to leave.”
“That’s great news, Jungwoo!” You beamed, holding up a hand for him. He uncertainly put his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, eyes flicking around the ship nervously. You burst into laughter. “I wasn’t trying to hold your hand again, sorry. It’s a high-five. It’s celebratory, friendly.”
“Ah. My apologies. How do you do that, then?” He took his hand back from yours.
“I put my hand up for you, and you hit your palm to mine pretty hard. You’re trying to make a—” you clapped your own two hands together “—sound.”
“I think I understand.”
“Okay, take two.” You held your hand up, and he gingerly tapped his hand to yours. Once again, you couldn’t help but giggle fondly. “Yeah, pretty much. A for effort,” you declared. “So, anything else you need to do right now? Or is that it for tonight?”
“I wish I could begin working right now, however I will need lots of materials for the reactors.”
“Let’s get out of here, we can talk about what kind of stuff you need and where to get it on the way home.”
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“So is your brother older or younger?” You asked as you and Jungwoo took a more leisurely pace back to your apartment.
“I’m sorry?” Jungwoo tilted his head, as if he hadn’t heard you, which was weird, considering he was already looking at you when you turned to ask him that.
“Your brother whose ship you took. Is he older than you or younger?”
“I… don’t know.” He frowned thoughtfully.
You balked. “You don’t know?”
“No. It’s not something we’re told on Galaria.”
“But—” You laughed out of habit as your brain tried to process this information. “What? Why?”
“It’s not important.”
“I mean, I guess not. But like, it is!”
“Why?”
“I mean, some cultures here have entire systems of honorifics that you call people based on your age relative to theirs. But just—” You were still staring at him. “Don’t you know how old your brother is?”
“I know his birthday.”
“But not how old he is?”
“I… suppose not.” He shrugged. “That’s all kept somewhere.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just difficult for me to wrap my head around. You’re not allowed to know your brother’s age—”
“I’m allowed to know,” he corrected you. “If we were to learn somehow now, it would be fine. There’s no punishment for it. But it’s just not something that we grow up knowing. Nobody is referred to as the older or younger.”
“Do you remember your brother being born?”
“No.”
“Was he in a higher grade than you in school?”
“School is based on ability, not age.” It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “You move up in levels as your learning progresses, not your physical body. Is that how it works here?”
“We keep kids who are the same age together, yeah.”
“Fascinating.”
“What about siblings that have big age gaps? Where you can totally tell who’s older and who’s younger?” You asked. “Or step-siblings? Like, you already knew their age and then your parents got together?”
“Again, it’s not forbidden to know a sibling’s age,” Jungwoo reiterated. “It’s just not… important.”
“So if your brother is a controversial politician… What are you?” It felt like you could ask him questions forever and never run out. “You never did tell me that earlier.”
“My profession?”
“Yeah. What do you for work?”
“Specialized cargo transport.”
“Uh…” You blinked up at him. “You know that sounds really shady, right?”
“When people need things transported across galaxies, typically under time constraints, or with specific instructions, they come to me.” He tried to explain it further.
“What kind of stuff have you transported, then?”
“Anything from fuel, to an engagement comb, to produce from someone’s home planet that they were missing after moving elsewhere,” he shrugged.
“So you’re like an intergalactic DHL driver,” you laughed. “Sounds fun, I guess. You’ve been to a lot of places, then?”
“Yes, many different planets and cities and galaxies.”
“And this is your first time on Earth?”
“I haven’t had a reason to come to this solar system before. Your planet isn’t exactly involved in intergalactic trade. So, I might not have another chance to visit.”
“Nobody’s requesting any black market Earth commodities?”
“I guess… we don’t really know what’s here. Nobody’s ever put in the effort to find out, I suppose.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again. “We’re just not interesting enough, huh? Can’t even make it on the niche alien knickknack market.”
Jungwoo smiled a little. “That tends to be a good thing, in my experience.”
The two of you were walking through a night market at that point, and you perked up as you saw a particular stall. Your dinner earlier hadn’t included a dessert for Jungwoo. You stopped him, pointing to the ice cream stand. “Ooh, hey, you want something sweet?”
“Sweet…?” He peered over the crowd to try to see what they were serving.
“Yeah, dessert. Ice cream. Want some? They’ve got toppings too.” You pulled him into the line as you talked. “You can get sprinkles and candy, or even entire brownies as toppings. And they’ve got some really good flavors.”
“Which flavor do you like?”
“Peanut butter cup and green tea are my two favorites. But you can only get one flavor at a time here,” you sighed wistfully, getting on your tiptoes to look at their options again. “I think I’m going to do green tea today…”
With your own green tea cone and Jungwoo’s peanut butter cup selection in hand, the two of you started back down the streets together. You watched with interest as Jungwoo took his first tentative lick off the scoop, his face lighting up with delight.
“It’s good!” He declared happily. “We have something similar... on Galaria.”
“If your planet is mostly frozen tundra...” you paused to eat some of your own ice cream. “Is most of your food hot or cold?”
He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “I don’t know...”
“It’s okay, Jungwoo,” you laughed at how hard he seemed to be thinking about it. “I wouldn’t be able to answer that about Earth food. It wasn’t a very fair question, I think.”
“Still, I feel bad that I can’t answer your question.”
“It’s fine, really,” you promised, squeezing his arm. “It’s not going to keep me up at night.”
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The next day, after another injection from Johnny on the vet’s way into work, you took Jungwoo to Yuta’s garage. There was no way you would be of any serious help when it came to furnishing him with parts for his ship, nor did you really want him just walking into your local hardware store asking for alien spaceship parts. Today seemed to be a slow day, as only one of Yuta’s coworkers was there, firmly wedged under a car on the other side of the garage, loudly playing music from a speaker, so you weren’t worried about him eavesdropping on your conversation so long as you kept your voices low. Jungwoo and Yuta had a slightly rocky start, obviously using different terminology, but eventually got on the same page, leaving you in the dust as they started going over various specifications and parts. You zoned out, taking over Yuta's chair and kicking up your feet on his workbench as you let their words go in one ear and out the other.
“Hey,” Yuta’s hand came down on your head, catching your attention again.
You craned your neck back to look up at him. “Yeah?”
“I’ve given him everything I had in stock, there’s a few things you guys will have to pick up at a shop,” he explained, and you turned around to see Jungwoo loaded up with a duffel bag that he hadn’t walked in with. “I wrote everything out so you know how to ask for it in human.”
“Thanks, Yuta.” You stood up and got out your wallet. “How much do I owe you for the parts?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What? But—”
“Hey, we all want to help him get home.” He held his hands up, backing away from your money. “Just doing my part.”
You narrowed your eyes at him knowingly. “Uh-huh... very charitable... What’s the catch?”
“Well, I’m going on this date tomorrow, and—”
“Pass.”
“You didn’t even hear me out!”
“I’m assuming the girl wants to bring a friend, you’re trying to turn it into a double date,” you snorted. “The last time I went on a double date with you—”
“No, not you,” Yuta waved you off. “Jungwoo!”
“Excuse me?”
Your friend had already sidled up to the alien, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What do you think? Date with an Earth girl? You’re only going to be here for so long...”
You rubbed your face in exasperation. “Yuta, you do remember that we don’t want people to find out that we have an alien here, right?”
“We can say he’s from out of town.”
“What is wrong with you?” You stared at him incredulously. “Just bring Johnny, or Jae, or any of your other ten million single human loser friends.”
“You’re not Jungwoo’s mom,” Yuta snorted.
“Well, no—”
“There we go, Jungwoo, do you want to go?” Yuta focused his question on Jungwoo instead.
Jungwoo’s eyes shifted nervously between you and Yuta. “Uhm, well...”
“Okay, I hate to be crude here, but keeping in mind how your successful dates usually look, Yuta,” you cut in again pointedly, “We can’t risk exposing what Jungwoo is. Doesn’t matter if we say he’s from out of town.”
Yuta raised an eyebrow at you. “Wow, Y/N, didn’t think you’d bring up the alien dick angle first.”
You groaned as your face burned. “You’re the worst. Why’d you have to say it?”
“Pretty sure you said it—”
“Will you drop it?!”
“I don’t want to go!” Jungwoo interjected loudly, stopping yours and Yuta’s bickering. “I don’t want to go. Uhm, thank you for the invitation, Yuta, really. But I’d rather not...”
Yuta shrugged. “Alright. I’m pretty sure Doyoung’s free.”
Your skin was still on fire as you left Yuta’s garage. He didn’t end up making you pay, despite neither of you fulfilling his need for a double-date partner. You were pretty sure the embarrassment of that conversation was payment enough in his mind. As you and Jungwoo headed for the nearest hardware store, you swallowed down some of your discomfort, unable to imagine how Jungwoo was feeling in that moment.
“I’m sorry about him, Jungwoo,” you sighed. “He shouldn’t have dragged you into all that.”
He looked down at you curiously. “Do you frequently feel the need to apologize for others’ behavior?”
You blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Uhm... What?”
“You apologized for Donghyuck and Mark being excited and a bit overzealous—in your opinion—when they met me. Now you’re apologizing for Yuta asking for a favor that was inappropriate—again, in your opinion. Do you do that a lot? Feel responsible for what your friends do or say to other people?”
“Well... I mean, no,” you stared down at the shopping list in your hand hard as you thought. “I guess... I’m embarrassed that they’re not behaving better around you.”
“You’re embarrassed of your friends?”
“No, I like them. I like my friends, or I wouldn’t be their friend.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean... they’re not treating you like someone they just met. They’re treating you like they’ve known you for as long as they’ve known the rest of us. You’re supposed to ease into that stuff so you don’t scare people off.”
“That makes me happy,” Jungwoo declared, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at you.
“What? Why?”
“Both that your friends would want to be familiar with me and not treat me like an outsider, and that you’re afraid of their behavior making me uncomfortable,” he explained. “You don’t want me to leave. Of course that makes me happy.”
You felt your eyes widen as you looked up at him. “Well, I mean, I do want you to leave, eventually. Obviously, I want you to go home. But I mean, yeah, I want your time here to be nice, you know? I don’t want you to be back home on Galaria thinking about your time on Earth being bad.”
A strange look flickered across the spaceman’s face then, you could’ve almost sworn it was pained, before the same serene smile came back. “I think I’ll remember my time on Earth very fondly. Really.”
You looped your arm with his, trying to shake the memory of the odd look on his face from your mind, playfully bumping your shoulder into him. “Well then let’s get you off Earth so you can start looking back on it, hm?”
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After getting your last few things at the hardware store, you had to wait for the sun to go down before heading back to the beach. The path down to the ship was even more treacherous now that the two of you were loaded up with supplies, but you finally made it there in one piece. Jungwoo didn’t stop in the cockpit this time, leading the way towards the back of the ship, through the narrow hallway. He pressed a button outside a doorway, then when nothing happened, pressed it again. Nothing. He banged his fist against it a couple of times, cursing under his breath.
“What’s in there?” You asked.
“It’s the crew quarters,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a desk in there. We’ll be a lot more cramped working in the cockpit, but apparently this circuitry got affected too.”
“But we can still do it, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”
You turned around to head back to the front of the ship. “Then let’s get started.”
Jungwoo seemed to be able to do much of the repairs on his own. You shone the flashlight on the work area, handed him tools and parts when requested, or held small pieces so they didn’t roll away from him. It was a bit cramped sitting on the floor of the cockpit behind the seats, it obviously wasn’t designed with this purpose in mind, and Jungwoo’s long limbs only made the space feel even smaller.
“Can you move the light here?” He requested, pointing to the side of the device that was facing him.
You scooted closer, trying to maneuver your phone around without blocking his vision with it. “How’s that?”
He shook his head. “I still can’t—”
“Hold on.” You scooted around behind him instead, pointing the flashlight from over his shoulder. “What about this?”
Jungwoo was quiet for a beat, and you peered around to try to look him in the eye.
“Jungwoo?”
“That’s perfect,” he answered, eyes focused down at object in his hands. “Is your arm getting tired?”
That was the first time you really noticed the ache in your limb from holding up your phone for so long. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”
“You can rest it on my shoulder, if you want.”
“Oh, thanks.” You lowered your arm until it was propped up by his shoulder, making sure you adjusted your grip on your phone to keep your light on the same place. “Light still good?”
“Yes, thank you.”
As he kept working, you quietly watched his deft fingers move over the pieces. “So how do you know how to do all this?”
“I fly a lot,” he answered, his attention held by the parts in his hands as he was trying to precisely line up two of them.
“Yeah, but I mean, I have a driver’s license and I couldn’t change a flat tire, gun to my head, much less fix up the whole car if I crashed it off the side of a mountain,” you scoffed.
“You’re allowed to pilot a vehicle that you’re unable to repair yourself?”
“We have mechanics and stuff for that. Are you saying you’re not allowed to get your spaceship pilot’s license or whatever on Galaria without knowing how to build one from scratch?”
“You’re required to have a certain engineering proficiency to get your solo pilot’s license, yes.”
“Ah, you have a specialty license, then.”
“Yes, I do. It’s a requirement in case you ever find yourself in circumstances like this.”
“Crash landed on an alien planet and stranded with a busted ship?”
“Yes.”
You noticed that he had paused his machinations as you were talking. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”
“No, this is all I can do tonight. The adhesive needs to cure for some time before I can continue working.” He carefully set the part down. “I should be able to resume tomorrow night, I believe.”
“Sounds good to me.” You yawned and stretched your arms over your head. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway.”
“And what job do you do?” Jungwoo asked with intrigue as the two of you stood up.
“Reception at a law firm.” You could feel your nose habitually wrinkle with disdain.
“You don’t like it?” He immediately surmised.
Thankfully, the two of you were climbing out of the ship then, and had to stay silent through your trek up from the beach. You had time to think about how to answer his question as you climbed back up to the main roadway.
Finally, as the two of you started the walk down the shoulder of the highway, you let out a huff and said, “The work is fine, I guess. Except I hate being talked down to and belittled by people on the phone who think I’m stupid just because they’re attorneys and I’m not, or because I’m a woman, or I’m young, or because I’m just a receptionist or whatever. And I hate when they start yelling at me for no fucking reason, and I hate when people are in the office and start being fucking rude to me and I’m supposed to just sit there and take it. And I hate that in between all of that, it’s fucking boring. It constantly fluctuates between being so stressful and so goddamn boring I want to bang my head against a wall either way.”
“So... you don’t like it?” he asked again, head tilted with clear confusion on his features.
“It’s a job,” you replied flatly. “I need to eat. Do you like your job?”
“Yes, quite,” he replied quietly. After a pause, he questioned, “What sort of work do you want to do, then?”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” You let out a cynical chuckle, looking up at the sparse dotting of stars above you as the hum of the city streets started up around you again. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, just do more, learn more. And now that I know that aliens are real—” You looked over at Jungwoo wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy behind a desk again. You know?”
Jungwoo met your eyes, his lips parted as he couldn’t seem to respond for a moment.
You shook your head at yourself, looking back down at your feet and the concrete below them. Forcing humor back into your tone, you apologized, “Sorry, sorry. Of course you don’t know, you’re criss-crossing galaxies all the time, huh? You’ve got enough problems of your own right now anyway, you don’t need mine too.”
A large hand grabbed yours, cool to the touch and surprisingly firm as it squeezed yours. You could feel the callouses on Jungwoo’s hand where his skin pressed against yours. Shifting your gaze from your shoes back up to the alien, you furrowed your brow curiously, but made no move to pull away.
“Please, give them to me,” he said. “And when I leave, you can imagine that I’m taking all your problems with me, to somewhere very far away from here.”
It was your turn to be speechless for a moment, and the only thing that kept you from skidding to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk was the sea of other pedestrians keeping your momentum moving forward. Your skin got hotter, and you wondered if Jungwoo could feel it where he was holding your hand.
In an instinctive bid to diffuse the tension that was currently squeezing all the air from your lungs, you gave his shoulder a friendly bump as you teased, “Alright, well here’s a new problem: That’s quite possibly the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me, and I’m 100% sure you didn’t even do that on purpose.”
“I—”
“And our next problem—” You plowed right past whatever Jungwoo was about to say, still fighting the prickle along your skin where you knew his eyes were. “Unfortunately, it’s not Bring Your Alien to Work Day tomorrow, so do you think you’ll be okay at my apartment by yourself all day? Or do you want me to see if some of the guys can keep you company?”
“While I don’t want to inconvenience anybody, if somebody has time, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the city.”
“Sure, I’ll find someone.” You immediately took your phone out to text your top choice.
[you: are you busy tomorrow? i need someone to hang out with jungwoo while im at work]
[yonggie: i have a few errands to run and a few of us were talking abt seeing a movie in the afternoon. he’s welcome to tag along!]
[yonggie: unless the grocery store and stuff is going too be too boring?? i can do it another day and we can do something else!]
[you: i just feel bad keeping him cooped up in my apartment by himself all day. im sure he’ll have plenty of fun going grocery shopping with you. he’s never seen a human grocery store, after all]
[yonggie: sounds like a plan! let him know i’ll be by around 10ish!]
[you: thanks yonggie, i owe you]
“Taeyong is free tomorrow,” you announced to Jungwoo. “You haven’t really met him yet, but he was there when we found you. You don’t mind tagging along with him while he runs a few errands, do you? He’ll be going all around the city, I’m sure. Oh, and it sounded like some of the guys might be doing a movie later, too.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” Jungwoo smiled down at you. “For everything.”
You smiled and lightly elbowed him again. “Like I said, I want you to have good memories of Earth.”
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A few more days passed by like that, with you finding various friends to leave Jungwoo with during the day while you went to your dreadfully boring job, then the two of you would eat dinner together before heading off to the beach to work on his spaceship until late. Tonight in particular, you didn’t have much to help with, as he was able to prop up a spare flashlight you’d gotten from the hardware store for illumination as he worked.
“When do you think we’ll be done tonight?” You asked, spinning the cockpit seat around as you unfocused your eyes, letting the colorful lights become hazy blurs and streaks in your vision.
“Soon,” he answered shortly as he usually did when he was focused. “Do you have something you need to do?”
“The guys are going out.” You read the texts on your phone as they streamed in. “They invited me and you, by the way.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, Jaehyun just got promoted to assistant professor, so we’re celebrating.” You stopped your spinning to watch him work again, but found that he had stalled his ministrations. “It’ll be at least two or three nightclubs; if you’re not up for that, that’s fine.”
“They invited me?” He repeated, brow furrowed as he had clearly not been expecting that.
You couldn’t help but laugh and pat the back of his head fondly. “Yeah, Jungwoo, they like you. It’s also definitely a bit of novelty, you know—‘Hey let’s see if we can get the alien shitfaced’—but I won’t let them mess with you.”
“Yes, I’d like to go with you.” He smiled, looking back down at the contraption in his hands. “It won’t be much longer.”
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Knocking on the front door of a very familiar apartment, you bounced on your toes as you waited for one of the occupants to answer. It was Johnny who opened the door, eyes lingering on Jungwoo behind you before he went to give you a hug. “Hey, kid. How are you?”
“Good, good. How are you, John?” You patted his back them dropped back down onto flat feet.
“Same old, you know?” He grinned and shrugged, then finally addressed Jungwoo. “Hey, man. How’s your side?”
“Fine, good. Thank you,” Jungwoo answered hastily, offering a polite nod.
“Jae!” You called into the apartment, latching onto Jungwoo’s wrist and dragging him over to Jaehyun’s closed bedroom door. You banged on the door. “Jaehyun! Come on, it’s me, your favorite!”
The door opened a second later, Jaehyun looking at you stone-faced as he buttoned up his shirt. “You claim you’re everyone’s favorite.”
“I am! Aren’t I?” You grinned.
“Can’t a guy get dressed in his own apartment in peace? Bother Johnny.” He was about to close the door in your face when you stuck your foot in the way.
“Can Jungwoo borrow some clothes?” You requested sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.
Jaehyun looked the alien up and down skeptically. “He’s already wearing my clothes.”
“He can’t go to the club in a sweatshirt and jeans!”
Your friend sighed and opened the door wider, jerking his head in a gesture for you two to come in.
“Thank you!” You squealed, pulling Jungwoo in with you.
Jaehyun sat on his bed as you started rifling through his closet for something for Jungwoo to wear. Pulling a couple shirts down first, you held them up to the spaceman, humming to yourself as you compared how they looked on them. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, putting one back and looking for another. With two new shirts, you held them up again, nodding in satisfaction. “Yeah, I like that a lot better.”
“He’s not a doll, Y/N,” Jaehyun snorted. “Go ahead, Jungwoo, you can tell her not to play dress-up with you.”
Jungwoo rubbed the back of his neck, the iridophores on his cheeks flashing as he shifted awkwardly in place. “I don’t mind it, really…”
“And that’s how I ended up as the first and only victim of Y/N’s Barber Shop when I was eight.” Johnny had joined the three of you, leaning in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You say that like your hair didn’t grow back,” you scoffed. “I didn’t take your ear off or anything.”
“Just my dignity.”
“And who gave me the scissors?”
Johnny held his hands up in surrender, making his roommate laugh.
“Johnny’s always been a pushover when it comes to Y/N,” Jaehyun explained to Jungwoo, still chuckling. “Ever since they were kids.”
“Alright guys, listen up!” You called for their focus loudly. “This is going to be one of the most important questions I ask you in our entire lives.”
Johnny and Jaehyun gave you two very similar amused but attentive looks, while Jungwoo beheld you with absolutely rapt attention.
You held up the two shirts that you had narrowed your selection to for Jungwoo. “White lace or black silk?”
“He’s not wearing those jeans, is he?” Johnny cocked his head.
“God no,” you shook your head. “Or the sneakers. I’m thinking simple black pants and boots. His necklace will go good with both, right?” You pointed to the gold transcoder that rested below his collarbones.
“White.” Jaehyun pointed.
“Black.” Johnny shrugged.
“Helpful.” You glared at them. Turning to Jungwoo, you held up the tops. “What do you think? Do you even like them at all? These are just my favorites, you can pick something else if you want.”
“I like them,” Jungwoo reassured you, fingertips gently running over the front of one shirt, then the other. “Which is your favorite?”
“I think the black silk?” You appraised it again. “Yeah, I like the neckline, and I think the material will move really nice for a night out, you know?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
You handed him that hanger and put the other back in the closet where you found it. Looking at the owner of the room, you prompted, “Jae, you’ll get him the right pants and stuff, right?”
“Sure,” he nodded and stood up, teasing glint in his eye. “It’s not like we’re meant to be celebrating my accomplishments tonight or anything. I’m just a butler, really.”
“Great, thanks!” You grinned back, traipsing out of the room with Johnny.
A few minutes later, Jaehyun joined the two of you in the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling his shoes on. “So, anything new, Y/N?” He asked innocently.
“You mean, other than the alien living in my apartment?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really, work’s the same.”
“You’re still at that shit place?” Johnny didn’t hide his distaste of your workplace.
“Yup.” You replied flatly.
“I thought you said you were looking for new jobs.”
“One, you said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Two, I am, the job market sucks right now, John.”
“Have you even interviewed anywhere? Submitted your résumé?”
“God, not this again…” Jaehyun groaned from his spot between you two on the couch.
“Not everybody can inherit a veterinary practice once their mentor retires and have their life made,” you snapped, turning to glare at Johnny pointedly.
“My life’s made? I’m still paying off my student loans, you know that, right?” He scoffed. “Not to mention how much free morphine I’ve been giving your buddy in there just the past few days.”
“I told you I’ll pay you back once he’s better, you said not to worry about it, and now you’re holding it over my head!” You said in disbelief. “God, this is just like you!”
“‘Just like me?’”
“Yes, you always nag me about shit like you think I can’t do anything, and insist on handling things for me instead of letting me do it, then just turn right around to use that as further proof that I can’t do anything on my own!” You were about to launch to your feet when Jaehyun caught your arm and urged you back into your seat.
“Woah, woah,” Jaehyun looked back and forth between you two. “Time out. You’re both right and you’re both wrong. Johnny, we get that you’re coming from a good place, but obviously Y/N feels patronized with the way you treat her. Y/N, Johnny has a lot going on too that you’re ignoring on purpose to make him seem like the bad guy, which also isn’t fair.”
Johnny pushed some of his hair out of his face as he stared ahead at the TV across the room, obviously refusing to meet your eyes now. You crossed your arms over your chest and flopped back against the cushions, not looking at either of them. You’ve never been great at apologizing first.
“You two aren’t making up before we go out, are you?” Jaehyun rubbed his face.
“No.” “Nope.”
Jaehyun’s bedroom door opened then, Jungwoo hesitantly stepping out, still fussing with the shirt. When he looked up, the searching look fell from his face as he obviously could sense the tension in the room, turning cautious instead.
“Is everything alright?” While his question was general, his eyes were focused on you when he asked.
“Yeah, Jungwoo!” You forced a cheery smile again, jumping to your feet as you appraised his outfit. “I love being right. It looks so handsome on you!”
“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck again as you walked around him, brushing off a spare piece of fluff from his back. “Thank you.”
“What do you guys think?” You asked the other two proudly, looping your arm with Jungwoo’s.
“Yeah, he looks—”
“Fine. Can we go now?” Johnny cut his roommate off, grabbing his keys and walking over to the door.
“Rude,” you muttered under your breath, but followed the other two with a roll of your eyes nevertheless.
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“Congrats!” Everybody cheered in unison, clinking their glasses together.
“Thanks, guys,” Jaehyun beamed at you all, bringing his drink to his lips.
“So are you like tenure track now, or what?” Doyoung prompted him eagerly.
“Yes, I am,” he announced proudly. “I’m no longer instructional, I’m academic.”
All your friends let out a chorus of jesting but supportive ‘ooh’s at that, and you squeezed his arm from beside him. “Look at you, a real academic now. Knew that big head was good for something.”
“You little—” He went to tousle your hair. You let out an ‘eep!’ and jerked away from his hand, back into Jungwoo on your other side.
“Sorry!” You laughed through your apology to the alien, patting his arm as he hadn’t been knocked very far back at least. “You alright, Jungwoo?”
“Yes, I’m okay,” he reassured you with a fond smile.
“Now, are you absolutely sure you can have that?” You pointed to the drink that you had helped him order. After realizing that for some reason he immediately knew what morphine was, but his transcoder was failing on what alcohol was, you’d explained the drink—with some assistance from your friends and Google—to him to make sure it wasn’t going to kill him, but you noticed that he hadn’t yet actually taken a sip yet.
“Yes, yes.” He lifted the glass again.
“If morphine doesn’t get you high, I wonder if alcohol is even going to do anything to do you,” Johnny mused, slowly nursing his liquor.
“Take it slow, drink water, and even though we ate before we came, keep eating while we’re here, okay?” You told Jungwoo, shooting Johnny a glare over the spaceman’s shoulder.
He nodded, and with that, you grabbed your own drink, clinked it to his one more time, and drained half of it in one go. You watched his face carefully, both for any sign that he was in imminent danger, and in the vent that he was fine, if he liked the drink you’d picked. You’d chosen a cocktail on the sweeter side for him, a fruity, bubbly, unnaturally bright colored one that a couple of the guys had snickered at, which he either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. Jungwoo didn’t immediately go into anaphylactic shock, which you pocketed as a win. Just like when he tried Nutella for the first time, his eyes widened with delight before he went back in for more.
You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his head fondly. “Pace yourself,” you reminded him.
He set it down and smiled sheepishly. “Right. Thanks.”
Hyuck and Yuta had disappeared at some point, as they were now returning to your table with a round of shots for everybody. You shook your head, but picked yours up and knocked it back with everyone else. Jungwoo watched you, taking your lead. While the rest of you had various hisses and negative reactions to the tequila you were now realizing they had gotten you, Jungwoo seemed unaffected by the burn as he calmly set the shot glass down.
“Ugh, did you guys get motor oil or something?” Johnny pushed his glass away from him with distaste.
“Cheapest shit they had,” Yuta informed him smugly. “Afraid real motor oil tastes better than that.”
“I’m going to get us some waters,” you told Jungwoo before slipping off into the crowd.
You watched the bartender quickly fill up your two glasses with ice, then water. Right as he had pushed them over to you, you became aware of someone sidling up to you at the bar and grabbing your hip. You whipped around and jerked away to put distance between yourself and the newcomer, a complete stranger to you.
He chuckled at how he had startled you, stepping closer to you once again. “Woah, sorry, baby.”
“It’s fine,” you replied flatly, reaching for your waters to turn to leave.
“Hey, I did want to talk to you.”
“No thanks.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t want to.” You didn’t like that he had started shifting in front of you, putting himself between you and the rest of the club, blocking you against the bar.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name as a taller figure pushed past the stranger, securing your arm in his hand. Johnny fixed the man with a hard stare before looking at you again, “There you are. Come on, we’re toasting Jaehyun again.”
“Right,” you smiled up at your friend, letting him half-pull you away from the bar. The other man didn’t say a word, letting you go as he disappeared into the crowd as well.
Halfway back to your table, you reluctantly mumbled a sharp ‘thanks’ to Johnny’s back. He must’ve heard you somehow over the thumping music, as he looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes softening for just a moment as he nodded once, before continuing to clear a path for the two of you back to your other friends.
You wormed your way back into your spot between Jungwoo and Jaehyun, pushing Jungwoo’s glass against his arm. “Here.”
“Thank you.” His eyes didn’t leave you, seemingly scanning you over with worry. “Are you alright?”
“Huh? Yeah, fine.” You shook your head to clear away the memory.
“I’m sorry, I realized that man was making you uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure what to do. Johnny told me to stay here while he went over.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Jungwoo.” You assured him. “We can't have you getting punched defending me and bleed blue all over the place. Thanks for keeping an eye on me and telling Johnny, though.”
“But—”
“Hey, you know what?” You flashed him a smile, already starting to feel warm and airy from the alcohol. “I want to dance. How about you come with? Creepy guys should stay away if I’m already with someone.”
“Sure,” he nodded for you to lead the way.
You grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table and into the outer edge of the dance floor. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you tilted your head, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, should I…?”
You took his hands that were uncertainly hovering in the air and put them on your hips before returning your own to his shoulders. “There. Also, sorry.”
“For what?”
As soon as his question was out of his mouth, you inadvertently stepped on his foot, a sheepish smile flashing across your face. “I’m not a very good dancer,” you admitted. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “That’s okay.”
“Hey, you’re pretty good,” you laughed as he kept up with the rhythm and also kept you from being a general hazard.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have places like this where you’re from?” You were careful not to say anything out of the ordinary to hint that ‘where he was from’ was actually outer space.
“Residents from elsewhere have brought similar nightclubs to our larger cities,” he informed you. “I’ve visited a few.”
“You a party boy?” You grinned.
“I’m not sure about that,” he was smiling as well. “But I’m enjoying myself with you, Y/N. Thank you.”
“I’m having fun too, Jungwoo,” you replied sincerely. Your toe caught on his shoe then, and you squeaked as you stumbled forward towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself from completely face-planting into his collarbone. His hands on your waist steadied you, and you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Sorry. Thanks.”
“You’re not usually this clumsy.”
“I’m a bit tipsy,” you whispered loudly. “Alcohol and motor function… not good.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Can I stay right here?” You requested sweetly, watching his patches of iridescent freckles flash and sparkle in the lights that pulsed across the dance floor. “You’re surprisingly sturdy, and your irido-irido—you know—are so pretty…”
“Of course,” Jungwoo readjusted to hold you more securely. “Do you want to sit down?”
“No.” You shook your head, starting to sway in his arms to the music. “I like this song.”
A warm puff of air washed over your ear as he chuckled. “I like it too.”
Sometime later in the night, you were sat in a booth at a different nightclub, slowly draining a water that Doyoung had pushed in front of you. Your other friends were somewhere in the club, only Jungwoo next to you. His cheeks were a little pink, but that could easily be from the body heat, as you were pretty sure you hadn’t seen him drink anything but water since your first stop of the night.
“Hey, Jungwoo?” You looked over at him with your cheek in your palm, supported by your elbow on the table.
“Yes?” He met your gaze without hesitation.
“Do—” You were cut off by a hiccup. “Do you think you’ll remember me? After you leave, once it’s been a while?”
“What?” He blinked at you, face turning oddly stern as he placed his hand over yours on the table. “Yes, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”
“Oh. Do Galarii have photographic memory or something?”
“No.”
“But…” Another hiccup. “Don’t you go to all these places and meet so many people and do all sorts of stuff all the time? Like, of course I’m gonna remember the one alien I ever met, but why would you—”
Jungwoo turned to hold your hand with both of his. “Do you really think that you’re so insignificant? Or that I’m so… indifferent?”
“No, Jungwoo, I just—” You took your hand back to brush your fingertips over his iridophores under one eye. “I guess it’s kinda like how you don’t think these are anything special.”
“Y/N, if you remember only one thing from meeting me, please…” He shifted forward slightly, nothing but sincerity on his features. “No matter where I’ve gone, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t special. Including you.”
You felt your bottom lip quiver, and regretted that last shot you let Yuta and Donghyuck talk you into. As soon as you blinked, the tears fell, rolling quickly down your cheeks. You buried your face in Jungwoo’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of the silk material of his shirt.
“I’m… sorry?” He said quietly, gingerly patting your back.
“She crying?” Johnny’s voice came from behind you.
“Yes, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, she’s an emotional drunk after she’s partied herself out,” Johnny reassured the alien. A gentle hand landed on your head. “Hey, Y/N, time to go home.”
“That’s my shirt!” Jaehyun said indignantly, having also returned to your booth.
“I’ll clean it before I return it,” Jungwoo promised.
“Y/N,” Johnny called for you again in a sing-songy tone. “Come on, let’s go home.”
You lifted your head enough to sloppily wipe at your face, Jungwoo helping to push some hair back. Squinting at Johnny, you asked, “You’re taking me home?”
“Yeah, I’m taking you home,” he confirmed.
“But I thought you were mad at me?”
“I’m never that mad, kid, promise.”
“Do you need help, Johnny?” Jaehyun offered, then looked at Jungwoo. “Or are you going now too?”
“I’m going back with her,” Jungwoo immediately replied.
Johnny helped you scoot out of the booth, and on uneasy feet, you threw your arms around Jaehyun to give him one final congrats. Johnny took you back from your professor friend to half-guide, half-carry you out of the nightclub, Jungwoo following behind. Out front, Johnny cursed under his breath as he looked around.
“Jungwoo.” He waved the alien over. “Stay with her while I bring the car around, will you?”
“Of course.” Jungwoo immediately took your arm from Johnny’s grasp, steadying you as you swayed in place. Johnny gave the two of you one last uncertain look before taking off around the corner. You stepped closer to Jungwoo, leaning your weight against him as you let out a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry about him…” You said. “He should be nicer to you.”
“It’s okay,” Jungwoo responded, shifting to support you with an arm around your waist as your knees buckled for a moment. “He’s concerned for you, which I’m glad for.”
“I wish he’d stop treating me like a kid, though,” you huffed. “He literally calls me ‘kid.’”
“Is this why you were so curious that I didn’t know if my brother was older or younger?”
“Does he treat you like a grown-up?”
“He had some concerns with my career path at first,” he informed you, some amusement in his tone. “But I also worry for his safety.”
“I worry about Johnny,” you insisted. “I just… don’t make him feel stupid for it when I do.”
Johnny’s car stopped in front of you two then, and Jungwoo helped you into the backseat. He gently brushed your hands away so he could do your seatbelt for you—which took a few attempts, admittedly—and let you rest your head on his shoulder for the entire ride back to your apartment.
After a lot of insisting, you finally got Johnny to leave your home. You were tucked into bed in your pajamas with a glass of water, and heard Jungwoo eventually close the front door behind Johnny.
“Jungwoo!” You called for the alien loudly, not really caring about the time or your neighbors.
“Yes?” His head immediately poked into your room, eyes focused on you attentively.
“C’mere.” You patted the empty space next to you. He walked over to sit down, but as soon as he had, you shooed him away, “Wait, no! You should get into your pajamas too.”
“Alright. One moment.” He nodded and smiled softly. A few minutes later, Jungwoo emerged from the bathroom no longer in Jaehyun’s nice clothes but in Jaehyun’s sweatpants and t-shirt. He sat down cross-legged on top of the covers. “Better?”
“I’m tired,” you rolled over onto your side towards him.
“I’ll let you rest, then.” He moved to get off the bed, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“Wait.” You yawned. “Can you stay for a bit?”
“As long as you wish.” He acquiesced easily.
“Can you…” Another yawn. “Can you tell me some more about Galaria?”
He shifted the arm that you had grasped to hold your hand instead. “Sure. If you’ll close your eyes.”
“You’re trying to make me go to sleep.”
“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed.
You snickered, but let your eyelids flutter shut anyway. “Hey, Jungwoo?”
“Yes?”
“I’m really gonna miss you once you go.” You squeezed his hand as you shifted around to get comfortable under your covers.
There was a stretch of silence so long that you were almost tempted to open your eyes again, but before you could, he squeezed your hand back and spoke again, voice sounding slightly strained, “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. A lot.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “So, Galaria…”
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In the morning, you groaned before you even had a single human thought. You instinctually rolled away from your window, where the faintest halo of light was coming in from around your curtains, burying your face into your pillow. And then your stomach lurched. Heaving yourself to your feet with some speed, you hurried into your bathroom, not even bothering with the light before kneeling at the toilet. Thankfully, nothing came back up, and after a few minutes, you got back to steady-ish feet. Looking back at your dim bedroom, you saw it devoid of anybody else, which you were mildly surprised about. You faintly remembered going to sleep with Jungwoo sitting next to you. He had no clue about human customs, for all you knew, Galarii wouldn’t have thought it strange to share a bed. You knocked back something for your stomach and the pounding in your head before treading out towards the living room. You were going to feel a little uneasy until you put eyes on your alien houseguest.
He was sitting upright on the couch, and stood up as soon as he saw you walking out, a relieved smile on his features. “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Johnny said I should make you breakfast—”
“That’s alright, Jungwoo, I’m not very hungry right now,” you admitted. “Maybe later. How are you? Anything from the alcohol?”
“I’m fine.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Honestly, I’m not feeling well, Jungwoo.” You touched your forehead, giving him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to lay down for a bit. Will you be good out here?”
He looked at you anxiously. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a headache. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Do you need anything before I—”
“Can I go with you?”
“…Into my room? That’s right down the hall? While I nap off a hangover?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing at your bedroom next to the living room.
He nodded.
“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.
“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”
“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of his words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.
“I’m not sure if the term is used the same, but I imagine it’s a similar concept.”
“You think I’m your mom?!”
It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “No, of course not.”
You put a hand over your chest, relieved. “Okay, God, I had a heart attack.”
“You’re my mate,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?!” And your blood pressure was back through the roof.
“Lover? I’m not sure the term…” Jungwoo scratched the back of his neck.
You held your hands out defensively, trying to calm yourself down more than anyone else. “Jungwoo, look, we just met like a few days ago.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“That’s not nearly enough time to say we’re soulmates or anything.”
His face lit up. “Ahh, soulmates? Is that the word?”
“No!” You immediately shot that down. “Don’t start calling me that.”
“Y/N—”
“What even is this imprinting? Like how do you know it’s happened? Do you do it on purpose? Because if you did, you’ve got to ask people’s permission before doing that kind of thing, dude.”
“It’s not something we have control over. So no, I did not do it intentionally.”
“Oh. Okay.” That only calmed you down marginally.
“It’s…” Jungwoo sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he tried to figure out his words. “I didn’t realize it at first. When you dragged me out of my ship and I first saw you, everything was different. I thought it was the new atmosphere, new gravity, that my body was just adjusting.”
“What do you mean, ‘different’? Different how?”
“Colors are brighter around you—”
“That’s just some cheesy pickup line. It was pitch black when I found you.”
“No, really. Our species’ senses are sharpened around our—”
“Don’t.”
“—when we’ve imprinted, around whoever we’ve imprinted on. To better protect them,” he explained cautiously. “Again, I thought I was just getting used to your planet, but I always know where you are—”
“I tell you where I’m going when I leave.”
“I don’t mean like that. It’s stronger the closer you are, but I just always have this feeling, of where you are. I know you left work yesterday afternoon to go down the street, then went back.”
“I went to the convenience store on my lunch break,” you confirmed with a huff. “Assuming you’re telling the truth and aren’t actively stalking me, I’m guessing that would be another… mechanism to protect that person? That you’re… you know.”
“Yes.”
“What’s even the point of imprinting on me? Or anybody that’s not another Galarii?” You crossed your arms. “My eyes work just fine when you’re not around, and the only way I’d know exactly where you were if I couldn’t see you would be chipping you like a dog.”
“I don’t know.”
You shook your head. “So… you all are just, what? Celibate? Until you eventually find someone to imprint on?”
“Casual relationships aren’t unusual, though many don’t see a point in having such a relationship before imprinting.” He immediately became even more serious. “I’m not inexperienced sexually, if that’s a concern.”
“Oh, God, no!” You covered your face with two hands and groaned. “I was just wondering like… How do you know this imprinting thing is for real? Like, you’re actually ending up with someone good for you, if you don’t have any sort of reference to draw from on what sort of person you like, what you want and don’t want in a relationship?”
“We don’t have to know before, because we’re not picking our… lifelong companion, like I understand you humans do.”
You blinked at him. “Marriage. You’re talking about marriage.”
“Yes. You have to have this set of parameters before you prepare for… marriage. We’re not choosing, so we don’t need such standards. We find.”
“Yeah, but why me? What is it about me that activated your imprinting or whatever the hell?” You couldn’t help the shiver that went up your spine when you said it. “Shouldn’t that be something that only other members of your species can do? Like, evolution-wise?”
“That’s something that my species is still investigating.”
“God, okay…” You rubbed your temples. “Well, my head fucking hurts. I’m going to lay down—alone.”
“Of course.” Jungwoo nodded and stepped back, sitting down on the far side of the couch from you.
Your bed smelled like Jungwoo. You couldn’t nap like this, or even rest your eyes. But you didn’t want to go back out there yet, needing time to let your brain turn over what you’d just been told. So you laid in your bed that smelled like Jungwoo and scrolled on your phone, absentmindedly chewing on the skin around your thumbnail.
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⇢ part two
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TAGLIST: @bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu
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holylulusworld · 2 days ago
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New World Order (Prologue)
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Summary: It’s a new world.
Pairing: The Winchesters x fem!Reader
Warnings: mentions of polyamory, angst, abandonment, apocalypse, break-up, age gap (reader is much younger than John)
A/N: Request fill to this ask. Find the ask under the cut at the end of this chapter.
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This world has always been a dangerous place. A dog-eating dog kind of world. You just never expected people to start eating people. That was new and terrified you to the bones.
Dean being Dean was all over the moon first. Zombies took over the world, and he finally was able to smash skulls and use all his knowledge to kill people trying to bite him.
It didn’t stay like that, though. Soon enough, even Dean realized that not only a few people but most of them turned into a nightmare straight out of a George R. Romeo movie.
Only a few people were still alive and kicked. And the ones who still lived always had to fight against the monsters wanting a pound of flesh or other survivors.
You didn’t know which enemy was worse. The one wanting to eat you alive. Or the remaining humans acting worse than their brainless counterparts…
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Around eight months earlier, …
Another seedy motel room, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, is your new hideout. Once again, angels and demons are after you and the Winchesters.
The angels are talking about an apocalypse. The demons too. None of them wants to stop it.
The angelic force believes that the approaching apocalypse will cleanse the world, while the demons see another chance to take over the world.
You and the Winchesters are standing in the middle, trying to stop the world from falling apart. It’s you and them against them all. Even Castiel turned his back on you, joining forces with the angels.
There’s something he didn’t tell you about the approaching end of the world. You’re sure he knows more than he gave away.
“John, shouldn’t we keep moving? We stayed at this place for almost a week,” you worriedly said. John was the one insisting on not staying in one place for too long. “We can’t fall into their hands.”
You nervously rub your arm. Not three weeks ago, a lower-ranked demon got hold of you. You barely made it out alive. Your shoulder still hurts, because they dislocated it.
“Sir, she’s not wrong. We should head out.” Dean sheepishly glances your way. He drops his gaze and swallows thickly. Something is going on. Something they didn’t tell you about.
More than once over the last week, they talked in private. It started shortly after the demon captured you. Hushed words, and fewer touches. Even Dean pulled away and made himself scarce. Sam is the worst. He cannot look in the eyes for a few days.
“Sir, shouldn’t we talk about what we talked about last week,” Sam speaks up. He looks your way, sadness in his eyes. “I think she deserves to know. We can’t just—”
John raises his hand to stop Sam from spilling the truth. “Sammy, we wanted to ease her into this.”
“Ease her into this?” Dean huffs. He’s not fond of the plan his father came up with to protect you. “This is nonsense, and you know it! We were always the strongest together.”
“She’s our weakness, and we are hers,” John yells at Dean, making you flinch. For all the time you were in a relationship with the Winchesters, John never yelled when you were around. The anger in his voice tells you something must be wrong. “It has to be done.”
“It has to be done?” You repeat John’s words. “What has to be done?” You tighten the hold on the paper bag in your hands. The one you brought from the pharmacy when you sneaked out to buy more than painkillers. “John? What’s going on?”
“Y/N,” John calls you by your name for the first time in ages, and your heart drops. “We must talk about something. I know you will not be happy about the news, but it’s for the best.”
“What is for the best?” You step closer to John, grasping for his hand. “John, tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.”
“We will bring you somewhere safe and then,” John says, as your hands drop his, “we will leave. It’s for the best that we never see each other again…”
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Tags in reblog.
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liliaeth · 2 days ago
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So you basically didn't watch Scott in s3b up to s6b?
Just curious.
See Scott was never a Mary Sue, (or Gary Stue if you want to go for the male version)
In order for that to be the case, all of Scott's actions would have had to be treated like they were the right ones. As if even his mistakes ended up being the right thing to do.
None of that was the case.
What you're missing, is that Teen Wolf never once treated being a True Alpha as a prize. It wasn't a 'top achievement' at which development ended.
It wasn't about getting a power up, it was about gaining more responsibility, and how Scott dealt with that responsibility that he was burdened with.
How unlike Derek, and Peter he didn't use the alpha power as a power grab. And how unlike say Stiles, Scott actually got held accountable for his mistakes. When Scott did something wrong, there were actual consequences, and he couldn't just run away from those, or pretend they didn't happen. Which is pretty much the opposite of a Mary Sue.
People make the mistake of seeing 'forced to kill' as character growth. But it isn't, especially when there's no real consequences for it.
One of the reasons I personally don't like Stiles, is because he lacked character growth. Throughout six seasons, Stiles never really had to grow up, never got held accountable, never was held to his mistakes, or made to learn from them.
the moment I realized Stiles was a total Mary Sue, was in s5 when the sheriff acts as if 'Stiles had to forgive Scott', because Scott hadn't done anything wrong to Stiles. Stiles was the one who hurt Scott...
But the show still acted as if Stiles was the poor woobie who got hurt. We even saw that in the Lies of Omission scene, which was blocked intentionally to put all sympathy on Stiles, even after Stiles viciously attacked Scott, after Stiles had betrayed Scott, and the pack...
And there was not even a hint either there, or in 5b that Stiles had to make it up to Scott for his betrayal of Scott. Stiles gets to assault Scott, gets to act as if he was the victim, and of course fandom ate that up, because they completely ignored that Stiles was the one who'd done wrong, not the one who'd been wronged. And that very much made Stiles a Mary Sue, which fandom happily copied.
Contrast that to Scott, who could no longer just be part of the pack, but had to take on the responsibility. First in 3b, when he has to make a decision on whether to let Stiles die, because he's a threat.
Scott of course chooses to do what he can to protect Stiles. But because he does that, because he puts his friend over saving others, Allison ends up dying.
If Scott had killed Stiles, instead of trying to save him, Allison and Aiden would have still been alive.
And Scott has to deal with that. That is far more meaningful than just killing someone.
In s4 we see Scott learn from Derek on how to be an alpha, and he makes mistakes with Liam, trying to copy Derek at first, which leads to failure, and then getting better at it.
But then s5 happens, and Scott's compassion leads him to once again make a mistake. A mistake that Theo takes advantage of.
The problem is, Scott is doing everything right at the start of s5. he's being careful about Theo, he gives him a chance, sure, but never to the point of taking unnecessary risks. It's only as Theo has already done more to prove himself to the pack, than Derek had in all of s1-s3 put together, that Scott starts trusting him. And it still leads to Theo poisoning him, Theo turning Stiles against him, and making the entire pack abandon Scott...
And Scott has to deal with that.
Scott makes the mistake of putting his claws in Corey's neck, and he is instantly called out on it by Lydia. And it turns out that doing this wrong thing, doesn't even help to save Liam and Hayden. It's just shown as wrong all around.
And because he did that, Corey didn't trust him when it was needed, and ran with Mason after they found out Mason had 'the Beast' inside of him. If Scott had not done this mistake, they might have been able to save Mason. Probably not, but they might have had a chance.
Consequences...
And Scott then learns from them. When he' dealing with Meredith later that season, he hesitates to use his claws to see in her neck. Because he learned from his mistakes. And she has to take his hand and make it clear she wants him to do so.
Scott never was a Mary Sue, and his character growth didn't end after 3a, it was just one step in the road of him growing and developing as a character, as a leader
It's one of the reasons why Scott is one of the three characters on Teen Wolf with the most character growth of any of the characters on the show. Scott, Lydia and Derek... and it was never about either of those three getting 'superpowers'
I really don't care for the "true alpha" thing, and there are plenty of other people's posts about why, but I can't stop thinking about what it does to Scott and his character.
like, seasons one and two he's constantly fighting for NO ONE to be murdered, because he believes that you can't justify it and it's wrong. fair enough. this insistence places him at odds with people he might otherwise get along with, solidifying him as an underdog. even his alliance with Derek is tenuous, as Derek sees murder as necessary to keep people safe and Scott doesn't. but BECAUSE he's an underdog he has to work with the people around him and convince them why they shouldn't kill, he isn't powerful enough to stand on his own.
but in the later seasons.... he doesn't have that??
as the true alpha, his power hinges on him not killing people. while it would be unreasonable to say that his former stance is completely GONE, pessimistic fans (like me, hello hi how's your day) can make the case that he doesn't kill because he would be less powerful if he did, at least in part. it COMPLETELY cuts the teeth off his moral argument, which sucks because the show still has at least twelve more moral arguments left.
hes also completely LOST the underdog angle. he and Derek are finally chill, thankfully, but he's suddenly the most powerful cool guy in the area, the first of his kind in years, with super special powers just for him. about a season before he lost a fight with a guy who had been a werewolf for all of two seconds. and you know how before he had to convince other people to join his side and work with his plan? yeah no now he can just yell at them and they'll do whatever he says, magic rules.
No matter how you feel about season one and two Scott, it's undeniable that he is fighting an uphill battle that just kind of plateaus as of Season Three. and I love season three, but I feel like, if it did happen, it should have been closer to the end of the show
(And for all the talk about the McCall pack being weird and unconventional, they still fall in that same power structure that EVERY PACK EVER falls into. I think it would be more interesting if they didn't and their pack is even MORE of a mess to werewolves. take, for instance, the underlying subplot of seasons 1-3 that Beacon Hills doesn't have an alpha (at least a good one sorry Derek) and is there for ripe for the taking. a big reason that Derek wanted Scott in his pack was that he didn't want to be seen as weak or targeted by hunters, even other werewolves. they don't get along but they HAVE TO or else they straight up DIE. But then in 3A they suddenly have an alpha (at least a good one sorry AGAIN Derek) and that plotline is dropped. they're still being hunted, but that anxiety about being a good enough pack is gone. which is weird, right? wouldn't you want to increase that tension?
imagine if they didn't actually HAVE an alpha. They still consider each other pack, but that's not good enough for anyone but them. especially at the start of season four? no alpha, their former alpha has gone MISSING, they haven't told anyone, they have to go get him but every second any of them is away the more their town is in danger, and oh FUCK our former alpha is a TEENAGER NOW?? AND NOW HES BASICALLY NOT WVEN A WEREWOLF??? not only having to deal with the mercenaries and Kate but also other werewolves trying to nudge into their territory?)
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writtenbymoonflower · 10 months ago
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how about
and hear me out
room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate
oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders
cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered
1.1k words
Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 
They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.
That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 
“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.
“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 
“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 
“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.
“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.
“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 
“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 
“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 
“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 
“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 
“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 
“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 
“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 
You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 
“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 
“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 
“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.
“Do you have work today, love?” 
“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 
“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.
“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 
“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 
“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 
“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 
“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”
Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 
“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 
“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 
Baby. Baby. Baby.
It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.
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veltana · 1 year ago
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No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader
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✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.
Series masterlist
Masterlist | AO3
The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.
Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.
The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."
Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.
When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.
Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.
"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.
Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.
"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.
"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.
You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.
"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.
"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.
"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.
"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.
"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.
"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.
When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.
For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.
The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.
The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.
The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.
In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.
Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.
After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."
Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.
When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.
"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"
"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.
"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.
"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.
When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.
But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.
After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.
It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.
Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.
You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.
The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.
"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.
"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.
"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.
"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.
Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.
You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.
With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.
Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."
You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.
"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"
An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."
It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.
"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.
"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.
"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"
Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.
"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.
Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.
The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.
"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.
"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.
"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."
"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.
"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."
There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.
"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."
Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.
Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."
"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.
Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.
It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.
"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."
"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.
They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."
Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.
"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."
You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.
Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”
The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.
“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.
Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.
You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."
"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.
Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."
Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.
“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.
“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”
When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.
What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.
You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.
If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.
After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”
Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.
"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.
The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.
"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."
His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.
"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.
Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."
Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”
Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.
The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."
Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.
"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.
"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.
He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.
"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.
It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.
Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?
"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."
It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”
Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.
You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.
It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.
"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.
Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.
When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.
The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.
Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.
Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.
Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.
Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."
Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.
"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.
"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.
You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.
You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.
You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"
"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."
To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.
All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.
"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.
Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.
The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.
"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”
"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."
You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."
Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.
You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.
"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.
"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.
"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.
"You sound so fucking pretty."
"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."
"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."
You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.
"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.
Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.
For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.
Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.
John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.
When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.
Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.
"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."
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notsoverymerry · 2 months ago
Text
Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)
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<jeong yunho x fem!reader>
summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.
genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k
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You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 
You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.
At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 
At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 
Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.
He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.
''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 
''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 
There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 
Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 
There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 
You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 
Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 
''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 
''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''
''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.
''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 
''Are you guys pulling my leg?''
''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 
You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?
''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''
A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 
It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 
You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 
''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''
''Hello, honey.''
The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 
''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''
It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 
''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''
The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 
''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''
It was as though they were doing it on purpose.
''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''
Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…
''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''
A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 
''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''
Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 
''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''
You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.
''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''
''I can hear that!''
That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.
''A reputable scam artist?''
That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?
''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''
A strangled sound tore from your chest.
''See? That's a laugh.''
There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.
You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 
Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.
His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.
''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''
He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 
''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''
He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 
''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 
Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.
You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 
''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''
There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.
''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''
''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 
With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 
Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 
He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 
''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.
''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 
He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 
''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''
He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 
Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 
''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 
You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.
You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 
''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''
He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 
You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 
When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 
''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 
His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.
You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 
You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 
''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 
You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.
''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''
''I love you too.''
He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.
''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 
You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.
''We're decent.'' 
''When did you come back?!''
''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''
Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.
''I am traumatized, by the way.''
''What's that supposed to mean?''
''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''
You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.
''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 
Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''
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plathfiles · 1 year ago
Note
Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective
gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n
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It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.
Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.
Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.
He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.
A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.
“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.
“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.
“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.
You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’
“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.
Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.
“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.
You let it be, too stunned to speak.
Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.
“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.
“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.
But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.
Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.
“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.
You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.
Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.
You saw now that no one was there.
Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.
You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.
“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.
Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.
“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.
You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”
The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.
Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.
You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.
Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.
Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.
“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.
“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.
Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.
Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.
“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.
Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.
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forever-rogue · 23 days ago
Note
Your fics kill me and bring me back to life queen! Requesting Joel and fem!reader almost dying from a clicker attack; Joel and her end up getting blood stained, give each other a bath in the same tub, and talk about what’s to come.
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AN | This concept is both so sad but so soft ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 1.9k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Both you and Joel were covered in blood, guts, and bits of brain. 
You’d been doing your best not to cry, trying to remain somewhat composed but it was hard. The tears were welling up in your eyes but none of them had managed to roll down your cheeks just yet. You were fighting them back; you knew that once the tears started it would open the floodgates and all the pent up emotions would come right out. 
Joel, meanwhile, looked almost…fine. Not fine, but not like you, ready to fall apart at any moment. You supposed that he was more used to it, the violence and gore, while you were still fairly…unfamiliar. Admittedly, you had very little ‘real’ world experience compared to Joel. You knew that one day, you’d probably come across the infected, but you hadn’t expected that it would come close to costing you your life. 
Your partner had been all but silent as he sprang into action to help save you while you panicked, screamed, and cried, probably attracting almost everything around you. Joel had remained the image of cool and collected as he took them all down to make sure you were safe. 
Once you were safe and accounted for, he’d hauled you to your feet and started making his way back home, keeping you close behind. Neither of you spoke a word, the silence loud enough to speak volumes. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got back to the home you shared with Joel, you felt like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You closed the door behind the two of you, before leaving against it and sliding to the floor, in a small heap of sobs. You weren’t able to contain the emotions any longer and they all spilled out at once. You didn’t even care that you were dirty and smelly, you just couldn’t be bothered to keep going at that moment. 
Joel had already started making his way upstairs but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard your first sob. He turned back around and quickly made his way over to you, dropping to his knees right to see what was going on.
“Hey,” he whispered softly, reaching for your face and gently taking it in his hands. He hated to see you crying, especially right now, when you had just had a near death experience. Joel brushed your tears away, trying to hide his frown when he noticed all the grime and blood still sticking to your skin. He wished you hadn’t had to experience such a thing; he’d tried to protect but failed. He could have, should have, done more, “baby, you’re alright. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
You managed a small nod, your lip trembling as a few more tears ran down your cheeks. Joel gently shushed you before pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. With the little energy and strength you had remaining, you hugged him back, burying your face into his chest. He held you for a while, letting you get out your tears, and occasionally offering you a few gentle words of reassurance. When you felt like you were all dried up and your throat was raw, you pulled back and looked at him with puffy, red eyes and a forlorn expression on your face. 
“You’re going to be okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I swear it.”
“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name, “I…today...it was horrible.”
“I know,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, his heart hurting for what you had just been through. He’d gone through it enough times himself and had gotten to the point where he had become almost numb to it all. It was a horrible thing really, to become so desensitized to actions that had once been considered carnage. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much to say and he couldn’t just turn back time, “it becomes easier over time, but I don’t want it to become easier for you. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”
“But,” you looked at him with wide eyes as you grabbed his hands and held them tightly in yours. You’d been so caught up in your own woes that you hadn’t even considered how Joel could have been feeling, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he offered you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that didn’t quite feel genuine, “I’m alright.”
“Are you?” your question came softly, whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He paused for a moment before hanging his head and giving it a gentle shake. You breathed in softly and exhaled through your nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug, squeezing him with everything you had, “I love you.”
“I love you,” he murmured softly as he buried himself in you, breathing in your soft scent and allowing it to wash over him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
After a short while, you slowly untangled yourselves before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. You were almost desperate to get the dirt and grime and whatever else was on your body so you could feel like a human again. 
When you got upstairs and into the bathroom, Joel immediately turned on the shower, getting it just as warm as you liked. He turned to you, slowly and reverently starting to peel off your clothes. You lifted your arms as so he could remove your shirt, a small sound escaping your lips as the cloth stuck to a few of the superficial wounds you’d managed to obtain. It already felt a million times better just to be free of your shirt, which was quickly followed by your bra. 
Joel’s touch was gentle as he undid the button of your jeans before helping you to step out of them and kicking them to the side to get them as far away as possible. Your underwear was next and you left standing there naked. It didn’t matter though; just shedding the layers allowed you to feel a million times better.
You wiped some of the grim from your face before motioning for Joel to step closer to you. He did so, his face becoming more gentle as he watched you. You reached for the hem of his henley, slowly pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of your clothes. Your lips pulled into a small frown when you realized that his ribs and shoulder were already starting to bruise. You trailed your fingers softly along his skin, tutting under your breath.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he insisted, which you knew was only for your benefit, “nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you insisted, reaching for his belt buckle and slowly undoing it before and tugging his jeans down his legs. Joel pulled down his boxers before kicking it all away, “I already feel better. Just having the gross clothes gone.”
He made a small sound in response before pulling the shower curtain back so you could get inside and under the warmth of water. You let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the warm water cascading all over your skin. Joel stepped in after you, shoulders sagging with relief that the day was over and that you were both home safe. 
“C’mere,” he grabbed your shoulders and tenderly traded places with you. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand before moving to wash your hair. You tried to ignore the water that was running off your bottles and red swirls that ran down the drain. It was over and you were okay. Joel started to lather the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp just how he knew you loved. You had to work to keep in the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth at the feeling. 
He worked in silence for a while as you tried to relax and forget about the horrors of the day. It was when he was about halfway through conditioning your hair, you realized that tears had run down your face. When you stepped under the water to rinse your hair, Joel wiped away your tears, which managed to bring the smallest smile to your face. 
Once your hair was washed, you went to reach for the bar of soap but Joel beat you to it, working quickly to get your body clean and wash away the rest of dirt and grime that had been left on your body.
“Thank you,” you whispered softly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. The two of you stayed that way for a while, until you felt yourself start to get pruney, “come on, handsome. It’s my turn to get you all clean.”
Joel knew better than to argue with you, and admittedly loved getting his hair washed just as much as you did. You took your time to make sure he was just as clean as you were, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck. At one point, he took your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless. You let him hold you until the water ran cold and both of you were ready to get into pajamas and get into bed. 
Once you got out of the shower and dried off, you stole a shirt and a pair of boxers from Joel and slipped into them before getting into bed for some much needed rest. Joel followed suit and quickly joined you in the bed, letting out a groan at the comfort of being clean and in bed with you. 
He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm frame so he was your big spoon.  You put your hand on top of his and offered it a gentle squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you responded, “thank you for protecting me today. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I might be-”
“Shh,” he cut you off, “don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. We’re here now, safe.”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat in an effort not to cry, “I’m glad for that.”
“Me too,” he promised, “me too.”
It wasn’t long after that until you both managed to fall asleep. 
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writingdumpster · 1 year ago
Text
secret wife
pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader
warnings: none, all fluff
summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.
word count: 1k
A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!
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Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 
I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo
“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 
“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 
“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 
“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 
“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 
“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”
“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 
“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 
“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 
“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 
“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 
“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 
“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 
“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 
“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 
“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.
“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 
“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 
“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 
“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 
“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 
“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 
“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 
“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 
“Y/N,” you told her. 
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.
“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 
“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 
“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 
“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 
“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 
“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.
“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 
“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 
“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  
“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 
“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 
“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 
“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 
“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 
“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 
“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 
“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 
“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 
“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 
“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 
“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 
“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 
“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 
“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 
“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 
“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  
A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available
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the-californicationist · 5 months ago
Text
Solomon's Seal
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John Price works hard to maintain his self-discipline, but sometimes he loses his grip on that fiery temper of his. When he needs help to feel in control again, he turns to you and your impeccable rope skills. You try to keep things professional, but that proves challenging for both of you. After all, John is just a friend, one of your best clients… so why do you keep imagining him as more?
TW: rope bondage, femdom, crying, emotional hurt/comfort, female genitals. Please check AO3 link below for full tag list.
Big huge thank you and kudos to the amazing and beautiful @gemmahale for her ideas and support on this one! Love you, bestie.
You had cleared your schedule the moment you hung up the phone with him. His voice had sounded so strained, like he was struggling to say the words. You knew that, sometimes, John Price’s work asked too much of him, but this time, he seemed so far beyond his usual level of need that you decided it was better to play it safe and cancel all of your other clients for the week. 
As you cleaned your studio, you made additional preparations. Something in your gut was telling you to prepare for the worst. You did your best to remember what he liked. No music, low lights, a soft fan for a bit of a breeze, and jute ropes — none of the synthetics in sight. You eyed your collection; eight hanks should have been enough, but you grabbed four more from the back room just to be sure. 
You never really pried into his life during his visits, knowing there was probably much he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell you. He had given you just enough information for you to understand the basics, and you had scoured the internet with those small clues to uncover the rest. At best, he was a soldier, handling the expected dangers and stressors of the job. At worst, he was a literal weapon, aimed and fired at His Majesty’s darkest enemies; a demon hunter meant only for darkness and secrets and pain. 
When he had come to you last November, bruised and battered, craving your particular set of skills, you had surmised that it was the latter. Sometimes, when you caught a glimpse of the news, you looked at the bombed buildings of Urzikstan for a sign of him, hoping you wouldn’t see one. When there was a battle lost or won, plastered across the front page of the news, you wondered if he had been there in the thick of it, protecting the world from the monsters that ravaged that land, keeping them from your privileged doorstep. 
You checked your clock. He’d be in from Heathrow within the hour. You got to work in the wet room, digging around for the soaps he liked best. His favorite bathing oil was a complex, spicy mix of coriander, basil, and bergamot scents. You’d never admit it to him, but you used it when you found yourself thinking about him, unable to get your equally complex, spicy warrior out of your mind.
John was so different from most of your clients. Many people who came to you were usually seeking something other than what you were prepared to give them. Half of your customers came for sex, for which you added them to your blacklist. The other half was a mixed bag seeking humiliation or reassurance, trying to use you and your art as an alternative to counseling or as a way to explore their kinks. They usually didn’t return after they experienced the level of your craft. You did have a handful of repeat clients who appreciated the practice itself, but they usually had their own partners to play with. You were just a novelty to them. An escape. 
Working as a traditional Bakushi was no fleeting hobby, not for you anyway. For you, it was a spiritual calling. John was one of the only clients who understood that and actively wanted to learn more. He had asked for stretching routines, breathing exercises, and advice on meditation. Your soldier was the real deal, even if he couldn’t remember any of the terminology to save his life. You were just happy he had managed to adopt the word shibari into his vocabulary. You could forgive the rest. He didn’t need to know the names of the knots or the positions of the body in order to benefit from his practice. 
Your doorbell rang. You took a breath to calm yourself. You needed to be centered for John. Yes, you were excited to see him, but he needed you to be his rock right now, and you needed to push your own desires out of your mind.
The door cracked open, and there he stood. He was just as you remembered him, but he looked like he’d been through hell. Those bright blue eyes were sporting a dark, purple shiner on his left orbital bone. He had cut his lip across the top and bottom, a red line still marring the sensitive flesh. John had cut down his beard to a more manageable level, but his hair was long and unkempt. What worried you most were the dark red welts he wore around his neck. It looked like ropeburn. 
“John,” you smiled softly, “So good to see you again. Please come in.”
The formalities of such a polite greeting seemed silly to you after what you had been through together. Sessions with John were always… intense. 
He stepped into your foyer, looking at you like he had missed you, but you didn’t allow yourself to give in to the fantasy. He needed you to be professional, and you had a job to do.
You took his hand and led him into your sitting room, offered him a glass of water, and sat beside him. He held your hand in his, refusing to let go, playing with the small bones in your middle finger absentmindedly. You smiled at him, enjoying the quiet of his presence, letting yourself take in these silent moments, unwilling to break the spell of peace until absolutely necessary. 
He seemed content to bask in the tranquility as well, happy to rub your delicate knuckle back and forth with his thumb, letting his eyes explore you, lingering on your long, silk robe, his gaze burning into your sternum at the join of your breasts. 
“How can I help you, John?”
He took a long breath through his nose, his eyes diverting back down to your connected hands; shame, regret. 
“I lost control, again.”
You had heard those words from him before. When he first found you, he told you about his temper. He hadn’t given you any details, but apparently he had hurt an enemy beyond what was necessary. Something he had done had changed him. He wanted to be different, to be more even-keeled, so he’d come to you for help. 
“The same as last time?” You asked, hoping it would be better than you suspected.
“Worse,” he looked up at you and flashed a tight-lipped, bitter smile. 
You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 
“Tell me what you need,” you ran your other hand across his wounded cheek, watching as the shine of his eyes gleamed in the low light. 
His emotions were at war all over his face. His wet lashes, the twitch of his lip, his darting, avoidant eyes; you could almost hear him fighting in his mind. You put a stop to it, scooting closer to him on the deep sofa, holding his stubbled chin in your hand, 
“Hey, you know you can tell me. If it’s within my power to give it to you, you know that I will.”
“I know, love,” he nodded his head, “I think you might try to talk me out of it, is all.”
You stayed silent, waiting for him to work it out. Rebuilding your trust together after some time apart wasn’t something to be rushed. Finally, after a few moments of thought, he studied your face and admitted his desires,
“I want it all. Just like last spring, but more. I need more.”
Your eyes widened before you could stop yourself. You remembered last spring. Vividly. In fact, you had thought about that appointment more times than you would ever admit. He had pushed himself so far, he’d trusted you so deeply, and you’d watched him heal from his wounds. He’d found a new kind of peace. You remember holding him, still bound, both of you sprawled across the floor, sweaty and grinning, your foreheads pressed together, sharing in his joy. 
But, you also knew that him wanting more meant that you would be restraining him from head to toe. He’d done arm and chest bindings with you, and in the spring, you’d put him in a single-leg frog tie. But, you’d never done full body work with him. For all of his progress, John still had issues letting his power be taken from him. He wanted to be in control, almost to the point of obsession, and it was only when he was in your ropes that he was able to practice internal control over himself without threat of judgment or danger. He could examine his temper in your safe setting, testing it like a scientist, finding new strengths within himself, mental hurdles to overcome.
However, you worried about what his mental state would be like when he was fully at your mercy. Had he ever been at anyone’s mercy? You doubted it. 
He could see you rolling over the problem in your mind, watching as you thought it through, imagining the possibilities. 
“What d’ya say, love? Think we can try?” His eyes met yours, and you nodded. 
“Yes, let’s try.”
“I might… uh,” he hesitated, clearly unsure of how his next request might be received, “I’m not sure how to say this, but I might need you… after. I know that’s not what you do, but after last spring, I thought you might make an exception.”
You were fully aware of what he meant. Last spring, laying there sweaty and swimming in euphoria together, you had broken your own rule. You’d let your body slide over John’s naked, tied form, and you’d rubbed his cock across your belly and on top of your pussy, sharing an orgasm together. It was reckless of you, and fully outside of the scope of your role, but it was what was right for you both at the time. He hadn’t asked for a repeat performance, always the perfect gentleman, until now.
You nodded, 
“Thank you for asking. We’ll see how it goes, and I’ll check in again at the end. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You moved to leave the comfort of the sofa, but he caught your hand,
“Can we start now? Just a bit. If that’s alright.”
“Alright,” you agreed, “Any new injuries I should know about?”
His face stretched into a boyish smile,
“Too many to count.”
You shook your head, ducking into your studio to grab one hank of rope,
“You’re the only one who gets a pass on that, you know.”
You watched his eyes dart to your hands as you untied the bundle, looping the rope end over end, making your first bight. His energy was electric, but you could see something dark slithering underneath. 
“I’ll start now, but you need to talk to me. What makes it worse now, John?”
You stood in the middle of the room, watching as he moved into position in front of you. You waited patiently, not needing to give him instructions. John knew what you wanted from him. 
He avoided your question, going through the motions of preparing his body for your work. He tugged off his coat and tee shirt, raking it over his broad back, and you tried to ignore the aching red marks that littered his scarred skin. Then, he unbuckled his belt, letting the metal tip clatter and clang in the quiet room, dropping his jeans and peeling off his shoes and socks. Naked, he folded his clothes and lay them to the side. Then, he found his neutral position, kneeling at your feet, palms flat on his thighs, head bowed as if in prayer. 
“Hands behind your head, palm to palm,” you spoke your first command, listening to the timbre of your voice and knowing it was different. You were changing into the person that he needed; someone strong, unyielding. 
He complied, but he looked a little surprised. You’d never asked him for this position before, but you knew it would get his attention. He would feel the vulnerability of it immediately, his sensitive ribs and armpits exposed. 
You started your work, tying his wrists carefully, making sure to leave the proper amount of room, running the rope, rubbing between the soft jute and his hairy skin to check and double check it for safety. As soon as you had one wrist bound, you moved to the other and heard him begin to talk. 
“I nearly lost one of my men last week. Good bloke. Took a bullet for me, so I broke the rules.”
“Which rules?”
“All of them,” he looked up at you, rueful and yet unrepentant.
“Would you do it differently,” you admired the smoothness of his wrist, watching as his pulse beat just under the thin skin, rushing through blue veins, “If you could go back in time?”
“No,” Price’s voice was like that of a beast. A dragon. It was a short, simple word, but within it, you understood exactly the feeling of vengeance he was carrying within it. No, he would not go back and change his actions. He would repeat them. That much was clear. 
“It doesn’t sound to me like you were out of control, then,” you looped the knots of his wrists around a temporary harness, simple and quick. This was just for now. You had bigger plans for him after you bathed. 
John’s mouth turned up into a wry smile, thinking about your assessment, then he said,
“You might be right, love. But, I’m here. I needed this. Needed you. There must be a reason I feel so bloody lost.”
“Let’s find your way back, then. Stand up.”
You led him by the end of the rope to the wet room. The off-white tiles glowed yellow in the candlelight you had prepared, and as you turned on the tap, the room filled with steam. You watched John’s face become indecipherable as you untied the ribbon of your robe, letting the silk pool at your feet, stepping into the shower before him. 
You pointed to the small stool in the middle of the wide shower, 
“Sit.”
It was a huge installation. During the build process in your renovated space, you’d asked for two large rainshower heads and a massage wand with a flat drain in the center. John knelt in between the two heads, but well within reach of the wand. You switched it on, watching the water jerk and flow through the metal hose, holding it towards your chest and out of his eyes. 
You started with his feet, washing them with only warm water first before moving the wand up his legs, wetting his body in stages. You didn’t use your hands yet, but you were eager to. John was quite the specimen, and you felt yourself flush as your eyes explored his body, lingering on places they really shouldn’t. 
You were adamant that you were a sex worker who didn’t have sex. You tried to make it abundantly clear that your clients were paying for shibari practices only, and that you did not do… happy endings. Other than your encounter with John, your clients orgasmed alone, and you went to great lengths to ensure it remained that way. But, here was your weakness, asking you to wash him while he was in your knots, warning you that he might crave a sensual aftercare scene, that he’d been thinking about you. It made your skin flush, and even though you were comfortable in your own skin, his obvious desire for you in such a carnal way made you hyper-aware of your bare flesh. 
The wand sat back in its hook, water paused, and the only sounds were the quiet drippings against the tile, a slight sucking from the drain, your breathing. You scraped the soap into your palm, making sure to lather it into a rich, thick foam. You stood, walking around him to his back, and began with his bound hands and arms, rubbing his warm, swollen muscles with your palms, spreading the suds over him liberally. 
A long, animalistic groan shuddered through John’s lungs, echoing in the bath. It set your nerves on fire to know that you were giving him such pleasure. You wanted more. 
You moved to his back, massaging the scented soap into his body, working his skin firmly to promote his bloodflow. As you made pass after pass, his moans became steady and breathy, his mouth hanging open, unable to fight the relaxation he was experiencing. 
You washed his legs and feet, needing to bend over him in order to reach the length of his huge thighs. In doing so, your bare breasts came in contact with his back, only light tapping at first, swaying forward as you washed him. You could tell that he could feel you, and he froze, his noises of pleasure turning into hitched breaths, shocked and inaudible. 
Your clients usually washed themselves, but John had asked for special treatment, and this was a new experience for you, too. You tamped down on your excitement, but you couldn’t hide your nature. As you leaned forward to wash his knees and shins, ankles and feet, you had to press your soft tits and contrastingly taut nipples against him, over and over, like two inkless stamps, leaving impressions on his wet skin. 
Standing again, you waited to give yourself a minute to compose your emotions. The tips of your hair were damp, and your chest was shining from his soapy torso. You tried to wipe the shine away, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. He needed to be looking inwardly, finding his deeper meaning. Staring at your gleaming, sensitive tits was not what he was paying for, no matter what your biology might have wanted. 
You stepped around to his front, and you marveled at how big his frame truly was. While sitting, even though the stool was low, his eyes were directly in line with your furry mons. If he only tilted his chin up a little, he could lick…
Your mind clamped down on that thought like a vice. You breathed steady, kneeling before him and reapplying the soap to your hands, trying to refocus yourself on your work. 
That was proving more difficult by the moment. Washing his broad chest was like something out of a dream. His nipples were so responsive, and now you could see the way his face twisted with pleasure as your hands massaged your serums into his skin. Every swipe over his pink nubs make him gasp in a new pitch, his brow furrowed with desperation, but his eyes stayed pinned to the tile, just like he was meant to. You expected all of your subs to avert their gaze, to concentrate on their mind, and you made it clear that the practice would stop if they lacked the discipline to do so. 
You had never been more grateful for that standard, because if John’s sharp, pale blue eyes found yours right now, you might not be able to keep yourself from losing your own control. 
You stepped out of the shower for a moment, grabbing the tie from your robe, slipping it out of its loops. Then, as a way to anchor yourself, you wrapped it tightly around your wrist, twisting the knots you made so that they would face inwardly, the discomfort reminding you of your duties as his dominant. It would work for now, you hoped. 
Already, you could feel yourself coming back online, as if someone had splashed cold water in your face. That was, until you turned back to John and saw the last part of your process.
You peered down into his lap, hands full of creamy suds, ready to wash his belly and his nethers, only to discover that he was as hard as steel. His cock flagged tall and curved, tapping on his abdomen, far beyond his bellybutton, giving you a reminder of what was plaguing your dreams. It was beautiful. The uncut skin of his shaft folded around the rim of his ruddy head, eager to be slicked down so that you could tease the tip of him. His balls were round and full, hanging as he sat on the edge of the bench, and all you could think about was what delight was stored within them, ready to burst.
You focused on your knots, letting your one ribbon keep you grounded, and you finished the job. Your hands rubbed soap along his belly, fingers dancing through the thick happy trail of his lower abs. He was built like a workhorse, and although he was fit, his body was well-fed and wide, his core wide and protruding with his strength, thicker as he sat on the stool. There was no bodybuilder’s trim waist. He was all power, heavy and built for unimaginable destruction. You’d never seen his equal, nor a man even close to his immense form. If someone had told you John was one of Zeus’ many bastards, roaming the earth immortal and inhumanly large, you might have believed them.
“I’m going to wash the rest of your body. Remind me of your safeword so that I know you can use it,” you commanded softly, hearing your own voice bounce around the hollow room. 
John did not meet your eyes, fully committed to his submission, but you could see his cock pulse with anticipation. He spoke quietly but clearly, 
“Red.”
“Louder,” you instructed. 
“Red,” he obeyed. 
“Again.”
“Red.”
“Again.”
“Red.”
“Good. Stand up.”
You needed to make sure he was ready to proceed. John, experienced as he was, could get stuck in his sub-space just like anyone. So, you made him practice, let his mouth feel the word again and again, primed and ready to be used. 
Finally, you reached for his genitals, washing his cock and being mindful of where you spread the soap, scrubbing ever so gently down his ballsack, and then swiping across his cleft, washing through his legs to clean every last bit of him. 
Then, trying to be almost clinical about it, you washed him off, cleansing his lower extremities to ensure his comfort before hosing down the rest of him. 
Finally, you shut off the water and began to towel him dry, wiping at his dripping skin, trying to ignore how his body’s heat seemed to radiate onto your bare body, inviting you to lean just a little closer, to press into that lovely burn. 
But, you didn’t. You discarded the towel and untied your wrist cuff, leaving it with your robe. You reached behind John’s head and unbound the center knot of his ties, allowing him to bring his wrists to the front of his body like handcuffs. You used the end to lead him like a prisoner through your space, parading him to the studio quickly and quietly, eager to begin the main event. 
Once inside the studio space, you finished untying his wrists, setting him free once again. He looked down at them, running his fingertip across the raised ridges left by the ropes before dropping his arms to his sides, waiting for your instruction and guidance. 
You knelt next to your basket of rope, retrieving a hank from the stack and unwinding it. His eyes darted to your hands, watching you prepare it just for him, like a dog expecting a bone. 
“Lay in the center, arms at your sides,” you told him and watched as he followed your instruction. He was less hard now, more relaxed than before, but before long, as he lay there letting his excitement build, he strengthened again, his prick bowing up onto his stomach, flushed and full. 
You got to work. Your first goal was to put each of his legs in an advanced frog tie, turning his body on its side so that you could bind his ankle to his thigh, first one leg and then the other. Once his initial ropes were in place, you checked their tension, moving two fingers around and around, trying not to notice his mounting enthusiasm every time you brushed along his inner thigh. Then, once you were satisfied, you helped him into a kneeling position, pushing a thin buckwheat pillow under his knees for comfort. 
He shook his head, 
“Don’t need it, love. I wanna feel the floor. The pain… helps.”
You eyed him, turning your lips into a soft grin, 
“If this were a normal session, I would give that to you,” your tone got his attention, and he did look at your face now, needing to see your intent, “But, what I’m about to put you through is something different. Trust me, John.”
“I trust you.”
He settled into the pillow, returning to his meditative position. You took his hands in yours and held them between your two palms, squeezing them tight, binding them without rope for a moment. Then, you began to breathe in deep, cyclical patterns, over and over. He breathed with you, and you saw the tension leave his face. Whatever had happened to John on this last tour was plaguing him, and you slowed things down to give him a chance to control himself again. 
He breathed in with you, and his air rushed out with yours, washing over your skin like a summer wind, keeping your body responsive to him. Every now and then, as you meditated together, you caught his eyes fixed on something other than the floor. He was staring into the darkness between your legs, shadowed by your body and covered with curly hair, hidden from him in plain sight. It was hard for you to focus, knowing he had his mind on your body, but eventually, he averted his gaze, focusing inwardly again. 
Finally, when you felt his heart rate slow, you used another hank of rope to create a short waist belt, applying more tension than usual as you fed it along his hips, knowing his thick ass and thighs could take the pressure. Still, you were adamant about safety, watching him every moment for discoloration or discomfort. 
He was fidgeting now that the tighter straps were on him, and you saw him closing off his stance, bringing his knees closer together. You caught him, and used one of the loops on his thigh to pull his legs apart again,
“Spread them. Let the pressure flow through your belly and out of your center.”
“Aye,” he sighed, settling into the pain and doing his best to spread his knees wider, concentrating on the feeling. His cock was leaking now, leaving little dark marks on the canvas of his knee bolster, bobbing between his legs as he spread them wider, shining and wet. 
You grabbed another rope, trying to hone in on your work,
“I’m going to bind you in almost the same style we practiced last spring, but it will be modified to provide more of that challenge you’ve been looking for. Place your hands behind your back, palms on your elbows, if you can.”
Not every sub had the flexibility to obey, but John did. He’d been doing his stretches. As he assumed his position, his arms’ placement made his chest broad and high, stretching his pecs open while his back was pinned, the skin folding in on itself as his shoulder blades folded back like featherless wings. You threaded your rope over his shoulders, centering the bight at the back of his neck for an anchor point. It was essential that no pressure was applied to the front of his throat, and you were ever-mindful of the fresh injuries that marred his neck. 
“What happened here?” You asked, letting your finger pass under a rope that lay on his injured skin, making sure it was loose and gentle. You would give him tightness elsewhere. 
He was hesitant to answer you, but he shrugged,
“Bastard came up behind me. Before I could react, he had the wire around my throat.”
“Did you escape on your own?” You pried, trying to keep him talking as you started the long process of his arm binding. 
“Aye. He was so busy trying to choke me, he forgot I still had free hands and plenty of bloody knives in my belt.”
You praised him for his openness,
“Good.”
“Is it?” Now, you heard the doubt in his tone. It made you pause, but you simply continued with your ties, not allowing him to know that you were challenged by his cynicism or regret or whatever darkness was making him lean on his fear and anger instead of his peace.
You left his question unanswered, allowing it to hang in the air between you, forcing his mind to dwell on it. You needed him to answer it within himself before you went opening more portals to other emotions and struggles. 
You added more and more rope to his binding, and when you finished, you pulled the cord forward across his chest, resting it below his nipples, making sure to graze them as you checked your tension, enjoying the trembling shudder that came from him as your reward. It was the most advanced harness you had performed in a long time. This one was unforgiving. He couldn’t twist left or right. His shoulders were forced down and back, shrugged tight against his body, and his arms were completely powerless. He could pull and heave to try and move his hands away from his back, but there was no escape.
You sat across from John once more, holding his chin up so that he would know you expected him to look at you, and you asked him,
“Do you have any pain or tingling?”
“No.”
“Say your safeword to me one time.”
“Red.” 
“The next step will be the final rope, and then we can sit together for as long as you need. Do you want to continue?”
His eyes stared into yours with a bright clarity, and he answered softly, 
“Yes.”
You could tell that he was slipping deeper into his sub-space. His eyes softened, but his body shivered. If you brushed your fingers along his ribs, his muscles would kick and jerk. Anything harder, like a deep tissue massage against those huge thighs and he whined for you, smokey and gravelly, full of feral need. 
You moved behind him, taking a rope and placing it across his forehead, using your hand to tilt his head back until his eyes were staring at the ceiling. Then, you carefully crafted a face harness, making sure there was not too much pressure on his more delicate bones while still limiting his range of motion so that he was forced to keep his chin pointed up. 
You connected the rig to an anchor point on his wrists, and then you took your position in front of him again, staring at his bearded jaw and injured neck, watching his body struggle to relax into a very uncomfortable pose. 
“Breathe for me, John,” you knew it was a lot. 
Controlling someone’s body was one thing. Even Price had experienced tight knots before, but when you took control over the head, that animal instinct all humans keep deep within themselves tended to come alive. It was a primal fear. You watched John’s chest rise and fall, his stress tumbling around in his breaths as he tried to stay calm. 
You reached out both of your hands and rested them on his chest, feeling the way he jerked at your touch, overstimulated and sensitive. You pet his fur, the thick brown hair that dusted his body, soft from the oils you had used. As he breathed, you felt it moving in his lungs, and you let your fingertips ghost over his nipples, rubbing them with the backs of your knuckles, admiring the way they perked up at your attention, puffy and swollen from the unforgiving rope that made them bulge outwardly.
“Mmf–fuck,” he coughed, his eyes knitted into a worried sort of agony.
You smiled, bringing your own nipples towards his chest, letting your soft peaks brush against his hard ones, moving your breasts up and down, drawing little circles and crosses over his chest. 
You knew he couldn’t see what you were doing, but he could feel it. He knew, instinctively, and it was sending him into a drunken daze. The pleasure of your touch combined with the pain of your ropes pushed him beyond where he had been before, and perhaps it was past where you had dared to go as well. 
“Control your breaths, John. There is nothing else you are responsible for. I’ve taken it all from you. You need to breathe and to spread your peace through your mind. Focus.”
He didn’t respond, but his breathing stilled, and his eyes closed. You removed your touch from him and let him bask in the sensations he was experiencing. 
Minutes passed, then more. It had been almost an hour, and you were admiring the way he stayed strong, at first. You reached out to him to anchor him when he seemed like he needed help, caressing his arms and back, massaging the muscles that must be burning white hot by now. He was much more determined than any other sub you controlled. If anyone could handle this difficult position, it was him. But, he was not invincible. You saw the way his breathing became labored, and his cock, which was losing and regaining its hardness as time went on, throbbed from its struggle. 
“Do you want to continue?” You asked again, touching him as you had before, moving your hands from his chest to his belly, petting him rhythmically, avoiding his phallus but touching everything else around it. You knew it must have been teasing him, forcing him to imagine how your hands might feel if they reached just a little further. 
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice strained due to the position of his jaw, and you watched the bulge in his neck bob up and down.
More time slipped by. Your hands had wandered down his legs and across the soft pads of his feet. His body was buzzing with the energy he was spending in order to stay the course. He must have been far beyond simple pain at this point. You remembered a similar scene you’d experienced, and this was much longer than you ever expected to be in it. If John was anything, he was stubborn. 
But eventually, you heard him speak, 
“We knew it was a trap before we went in. I was reckless, and angry, and I wanted my fuckin’ revenge.”
He paused but you just kept up with your massage, rubbing him down, letting him know you were still there. He continued,
“That bastard was gonna shoot me,” John’s voice cracked from his despair, and you saw shining tears stream down his temples and into his hair, “It was me that he wanted. Then, my… one of my men, he jumped right in front of the gun and took the bullet for me. I thought he was dead. I thought I was, too. But, after… I left my team. Charged in alone. I did things to those men that I'll have to think about for the rest of my bloody days. I became… something else. Something… “
You wiped the tears from his face, petting his cheeks, letting your thumbs brush over his lips gently. He sighed, and you could feel his breath on your fingers,
“It wasn’t right. I knew better, I just wanted them to bloody pay. Wasn’t sure if I was going home with a fuckin’ medal or my papers. Didn’t care.”
There was a long pause, and then, his voice became small. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, but they were wide, full of fear and uncertainty,
“Am I a monster? Is that… Is that the real me? Who am I? What am I?”
You leaned forward and planted delicate kisses across John’s stretched neck, licking and sucking at his skin in very light, careful touches, tasting his wounds and trying to heal them.
You sat back, removing yourself from his body, letting him sit alone for a moment before you said,
“You are a human being. You are capable of love and hate, pleasure and pain. You might feel like you need to answer for some of your violence, but your own humanity is not defined by your actions. You believed that was the path you needed to take. You destroyed dangerous men before they destroyed you. That is not a monster. A monster destroys the innocent. Were those men innocent?”
“No,” he snarled, full of spit and ire.
“They made their own choices. They controlled their own lives. Your perception of your own control is too broad, John. You couldn’t save them. They didn’t need saving. You did. It was you who needed to be saved.”
“I should’ve been able to stop… to stop… stop killing. I couldn’t. I needed them to burn for what they did to my fuckin’ soldier. To my friends! Fuck!” 
John was gasping now, too full of emotion to control his breath, releasing his stress in deep, bellowing grunts. You unfastened his head harness immediately, freeing him. The instant he could move, he let his head fall forward and placed his cheek on your breast, stretching himself as far as he could, hoping you would be there to catch him. 
And you were. You held him in your arms, wrapping your own across his many knots, feeling the fibers of his ties and the smooth warmth of his body, separate but unified. You could feel his wet cheek upon your skin, his anger rolling off of him in waves. He was letting out each breath as an exhaled hiss, the fire in his eyes at full peak, a blazing rage that seemed like it would suffocate him. 
You picked up his head in your hands, resting your forehead on his and told him, 
“Let it go. Just like that. Scream. Let it out of you, John. Forgive yourself.”
He let himself go for a moment, howling like a wild boar, full of unnatural rage and pain. You heard his shouts and tucked them away from your heart, keeping them for later, choosing to just let him express it and have his crashing waves of feeling wash over you, but you refused to drown in it. He still needed you. 
“Do you forgive me?” His plea was that of a boy, innocent and achingly pure. 
“I forgive you,” you replied without hesitation, “Forgive yourself, now.”
He shook his head back and forth, rubbing his face on yours, bitter and despondent, 
“I can’t…”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you to,” you barked, grabbing him at the base of his skull by his hair, forcing his head back into that same bent position, holding him by force, “Trust me, John. Say it out loud. I forgive myself. Say it. C’mon.”
“I… forgive...” 
“C’mon. I know you can do this,” you used both hands to hold his head under your control, your chests pressed together, your breathing equal and ragged, both of you pulled to the end of your abilities.
“I forgive myself.”
“Again!” You gasped. You tugged at his nape, forcing him to arch his back with what little movement he still had access to.
He grunted in response, breathing heavy, each exhale a guttural shout,
“I forgive myself.”
“Good. So good. Let it out. Use the pain; let it wash you clean.”
You let his head come forward, and you saw a new man staring back at you. Before you knew what was happening, you felt your lips crash together with John’s, sliding along his mouth, tasting him and being tasted by him. His tongue slipped into the hollow of your palate, folding and twisting for more and more control, taking you into him as much as he could manage. Then, he pulled away abruptly, resting his forehead against yours again,
“I’m sorry. I just… I feel…” You watched him search for the words, “I feel like I’m back. It’s been so long, but I can feel myself again.”
“What do you need?”
“I need you,” he tilted his head, exhausted, sitting back on his heels, his face a serene picture of peace, “I need you to touch me, like this. Please.”
You looked at him for a moment and then moved your hands between his legs, finding his warm rod waiting to be held. As soon as your fingers touched him, his whole body convulsed, and he cried out at the sensation. 
You began to rub his shaft with long, slow strokes, avoiding his head for now, finding a nice, easy rhythm, encouraging John to match your breathing. He did, stealing kisses when your faces were near one another, and eventually, you were nose to nose, sharing your breaths again, listening to the rush of air and the wet slick sound of his tacky precome being spread all over his length. 
You reached behind him and grabbed another bolster, putting the soft pad behind his back. Slowly, you helped him lay down onto it, knowing his arms would be crushed by his weight, but making sure the stress was something he could stand. His legs were spread wide, fully pliant and open to you, and you sat between them, bringing your hands back to his center, working his curved shaft up and down, watching as his belly filled with air, expanding from his breaths, only to collapse again, the muscles within him clenching and releasing in an undulating pattern of lust and need.
“Oh, fuck,” he bit his lip, wrenching his eyes shut, “Please… I need… Bloody hell, I need you, love. Please.”
“Are you sure, John?” You tried to check in with him, ignoring your own desire to immediately fulfill his wish, your pussy swollen and dripping in anticipation. 
“Yes. I want you to take me. Please.”
His eyes looked up at you, his body bent and bowed, sweet and desperate for you, looking to you for his pleasure.
Carefully, you straddled him, feeding his head between your legs, sighing with joy as his tip slotted into the soft divot of your hole. He couldn’t thrust up into you. In fact, he couldn’t participate at all. You were the only one who could bring him pleasure or bring him pain, and that thought made your head rush, making you dizzy with desire, knowing that this man, a ruthless killer, mysterious and brutal, steady and kind, all of what he was — he was helpless beneath you. 
As you sank down onto his girthy tip, your body ached from the stretch. It was an effort to fit him inside of you, and you breathed through it, wanting to push yourself flush to his hips. When you met his warm root, you shared a loud moan together, the relief overwhelming you both. 
Then, you used your hips to make grinding, wide circles, churning his cock within your core, making yourself even more soaked, feeling your movements sending repeated signals to your cunt to make more and more slick come. It seemed endless, and it pooled out of you, matting his hair and drowning his dick in hot, sticky fluid. 
He was grunting softly at the apex of each circle of your hips, his voice hoarse and full of want. You heard him wanting more, wanting you to hump him up and down, to slide yourself along his cock from root to tip. But, you were in charge, and you set the pace. So, you continued, around and around and around in an impossible spiral, using your hands to play with his nipples, pinching them cruelly, positioning them under the tight rope to make them ache to be free. 
“Ungh, fuck! You’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Feels so bloody good.”
You smiled down at him, refusing to take his bait, knowing he was beyond ready for more. 
Sure enough, he began to beg you, his skin flushed and his heart beating hard from being edged by your grinding,
“Will you fuck me… please? Just… I need… fuck, I need more. Fuck me, please! Oh, fuck…”
“Shh. Be good for me, John. Trust me.” 
You stayed the course, rocking your hips around his base, never letting him thrust in and out, just winding yourself around him like a tight spool, pushing him to his breaking point. He felt so good inside of you, and his cock was so deep, you could feel the turgid body of his shaft if you pressed down on your lower belly, your fingers finding his outline through your skin and muscles and fat, your hands making indentions in your flesh, teasing him from the outside. 
“Cut me out,” he snarled, straining against his bindings hard enough to hurt himself.
You peered down at him, slowing your hips to a glacial pace,
“You know your safeword, John.”
“Cut. Me. Out.”
His eyes were vicious when he looked up at you now. He was like a hungry wolf; his gaze held within it a dark promise that — if you cut his leash — he would destroy you. 
On one hand, your body celebrated that realization. It was eager to be devoured by this monster of a man, but you had worked hard to control your primal urges, and you decided to put your hound back in his cage. You let your hand snake around his throat, squeezing where it was safest, digging in your nails for him to feel your threat more vividly, knowing it would hurt him against his healing wounds,
“If you want to stop, say the word.”
You waited, watching his tortured face, panting and wet from tears and sweat, but he remained silent. You licked your lips, 
“You came here for a lesson in self-control, and I am your teacher.”
For the next half hour, you made sure John Price understood who was in control of his pleasure. You sat on his cock, rocking back and forth until you felt his body tense up, and then you pulled yourself off of him, leaving his throbbing prick out in the cold, tapping at your ass cheeks, begging to be let back in. 
You ignored him, touching yourself with your fingers, using the chubby flesh of his lower belly to rub against your cunt, smearing your wetness all over him as you played in your hole. 
Then, you would put him back inside and start the process all over again, grinding and stopping, grinding and stopping, until your mighty sub was whimpering for release, his balls tight against his core, ready to flood you with his come at any moment. 
Finally, when you saw how fuck-drunk he was, coming in and out of consciousness like he’d been drugged, you decided to relieve him of his burden. You caught his eye and made sure he knew what was coming. Immediately, you had his full attention. He began to chant, hoarse and rasping under his breath,
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck…”
You let the anticipation build, slipping your pussy over his head in feather-light swipes, letting your folds tickle his cockhead mercilessly. Then, you began to bounce your hips on his cock. 
“Ungh– love, I’m —” he growled, his words breathless and broken, unbridled. 
“I want your come,” you confessed, getting lost in your own pleasure, “I want it in me… Deep. In. Me,” you changed your tone, tightening your grip on the nape of his neck as much as you dared, “And I’m going to take it from you.”
“Holy fuck,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, shining with fresh tears, overstimulated and raw. 
Then, you saw the relief smooth across his brow, and you waited for a breath before you felt it, spearing yourself on him to his hilt, plugging your cunt so that his come would be plugged up inside of you, filling your emptiest parts, making them warm and swollen with his spend. 
You felt him bursting inside of you, his girth stretching you every time he throbbed, spraying inside of you over and over, dumping his load into your soft hole. When you felt him finish, you began your grinding circles again, causing him to roll and twist, aching from the pleasure and pain. 
“Nngh… love, please… can’t… I can’t…” 
You yanked the slip tie out from under his shoulder, and suddenly, he had control of his arms again. You did the same to his legs, freeing him from your ties, ending his captivity. 
Like a flash, he erupted upwards toward you. His hands went to your hips, sitting up to hug himself around your body, crushing you to his chest and forcing you down into his lap, spearing you on his sensitive rod as if you had planned to pull him out. His mouth savaged your breasts, biting them cruelly, his fingers holding you tight enough to leave you bruised. 
You grabbed his face, holding his bristled cheeks in your hands again, bringing him up to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his as delicately as you could manage, trembling from your bliss. He kissed you back, and that’s all you did for what felt like an eon. Your mind swam through a blank, glittering cosmos, and the only thing that was real was the feeling of John’s mouth on your mouth and his sex on your sex, his hands on your body and your hands on his body, his pain and your pain, his love and your love. You and he were muddled together like pigments on a palette, jonquil and fuschia, no longer existing as one or the other and yet both smearing together, mixed and inseparable, ready to paint a bright, endless sun. 
You had melted, it seemed, under John’s sweating, heaving body. His ribs bullied into your belly every time he took a breath, and his cock had softened so that it slipped away from you. Your body ached for its comfort again, every nature-made part of you punishing you for losing it, coaxing you to do anything to get it back, to fill the space left vacant. You were tucked into his chest, folded and hiding beneath his chin, rubbing at the flat of his sternum with the back of your hand. 
His finger brushed a stray curl from your brow, touching your hair with respect, staring down at you in awe,
“My hero,” he purred. 
You smiled, kissing the stubble on his chin,
“Am I, now?”
“My head…” He stared up at the ceiling again, going to it for comfort like a long lost friend, “It’s so quiet. So clear. You’ve done that for me, and I’ll be thanking you for the rest of my days.”
“I’ll always be here for you, John. You are my muse in more ways than I’ll ever admit,” you laughed breathlessly, a little sad. It was bittersweet, falling in love with a man you couldn’t have. But, you found yourself in him and now you would need to work out how to live without that mirrored reflection. You felt linked to him, two unbroken cords looped together like Solomon’s seal, inseparable and yet laid on two disparate paths. 
“Don’t…” He said, his tone sounding even more sorrowful than yours.
You sat up on your elbow, bringing your face up to his to look at him, to see his emotions, 
“What?”
“Don’t make me hope.”
“What do you hope for?” Your voice fell into a whisper, your heart not having the strength to ask your question aloud.
He matched your tone, purring out his confession with a tired but cheeky grin,
“For a woman who can bring me to my knees,” then, his expression turned serious, and his eyes traced his finger as he played with the stray curl he had found, studying its winding path, “For a healer. Someone who can remind me of who I am. Everytime I stop to catch my breath, I’ve been hoping for you.”
Your heart stuttered, knowing that he was not a man to settle down in one place. You looked down at his chest rising and falling with his breath, matching your rhythm, unable to meet his eyes,
“How long can you stay?”
He put a thick finger under your chin, just as you had for him during his session, making you meet his gaze, 
“Let’s start with tonight…”
He planted a soft kiss on your left cheek.
“...then tomorrow…”
His lips kissed your right cheek, dragging hungrily across your skin, 
“...and all the tomorrows that you’ll give me. I’ll take them all, if you let me.”
John placed his final kiss on your open mouth, lips parted, concentrating on what he was saying. You smiled, kissing him back in earnest, 
“Tonight, then. And tomorrow.”
“And tomorrow,” he nodded, smiling brightly, rolling himself over you to shield you from the chill of the room, folding you into his darkness, safe, bound to him without a cord, knotted together without a bight, tangled for however long the strands would hold.
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AO3 Link --- Thank you for the kudos!
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fandoms-x-reader · 2 months ago
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Sensitive! MC
Requested By: @fairwish
Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064
This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3
Based on Lesson 6-15
You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.
You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.
You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.
And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.
They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.
They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.
In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.
You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.
But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.
-
You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.
You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.
“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.
“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.
“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly. 
“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed
You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.
“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.
“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.
You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.
“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.
That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.
“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.
“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.
“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.
“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.
Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did. 
You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.
They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.
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Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.
He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.
He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.
After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.
He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.
Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.
It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised. 
He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.
He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.
But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.
It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.
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After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.
Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.
He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.
So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.
When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.
He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.
But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.
The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.
But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.
He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.
He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.
Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.
“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.
Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.
He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.
So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.
Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.
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Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.
He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.
But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.
The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.
And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.
Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst
On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.
His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.
When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.
He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.
Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.
Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt. 
But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.
He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.
Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.
And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.
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Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.
For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.
He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.
For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside. 
In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.
But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.
He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.
He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.
He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.
You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world. 
Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.
“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.
“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity
“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.
Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.
He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.
“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.
It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.
Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.
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Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.
As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?
He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.
He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.
But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different. 
And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.
He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.
His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.
When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.
He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.
You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said. 
You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.
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“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.
Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.
You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.
You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.
He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.
In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.
More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.
And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.
Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.
Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.
He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.
You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.
He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.
And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.
Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.
He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.
As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.
He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.
When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.
Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.
In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”
You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.
“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.
He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.
“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones. 
“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.
His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.
You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.
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bluewolfangel01 · 5 months ago
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How the brothers make sure you're safe in the Devildom: Older Bros edition
Lucifer
Papa Luci mode activated
He has to know where you are or where you're going if you want to go out
It doesn't matter to him that you have 7 of the most powerful demons under your command or that you're training under humanity's most power sorcerer
You are required to have someone with you when traveling anywhere in the Devildom
If he doesn't know where you are, for some reason, he while be doing everything he can just to figure out your location
Of course he isn't going to panic just yet mind you, he'll first ask his brothers if they know where you are
Ex. he makes Levi track your phone or asks Mammon to locate you via crow familiar
If none of them know, then he's going to ask the dateables and side characters
And if they don't know?
He (and the everybody else of course) are going to tear the Devildom apart to make sure that you're okay
And if you are not? May Father have mercy on whoever dared to lay a finger on you cause Lucifer won't
If he starts getting on your nerves about always having to know a general area of where you are, don't hold it against him to much
He just doesn't want you to get hurt, cause if you were you'd have a very said and pissed off Luci on your hands
Mammon
Two words: Crow familiar
Around when you made a pact with him, he gave you a crow familiar
He claimed that it was to make sure he didn't have to deal with Lucifer's punishment if you ever died or even got hurt
Don't let him fool you, that man just wants to make sure you're safe cause he cares about you so much
He has so many crows he sadly can't keep track of ALL their names, so he let's you name yours
The crow will of course love you to bits and do things for you because of his connection to Mammon and cause you treat them so nice
Pls have some seeds on you, the crow will adore you even more if you do
Whenever your out the crow will follow and watch you from a distance or maybe even close by depending on how big the crowds are
If you're ever in trouble and can't handle it (or even if you can) the crow network is put into use to alert Mammon
The second he is told he drops whatever it is that he's doing and he's rushing to get to you no matter what
He'd take out the threat so fast, you blink and it's gone and in its place is Mammon
He's smiling at you and saying how he just so happened to be in the neighborhood
Whatever the threat was seems to have disappeared and Mammon leads you away saying how he wants to show you something he wants to buy nearby
But if you listen closely, you can hear a series of loud caws coming around the area you were just at
Simp
Levithan
Although he doesn't go out of his room much, that doesn't mean that he can't protect you from the outside
Like previously mentioned, there's a tracker on your phone (all the brothers have the same on theirs, don't feel bad)
The only reason he checks it is either because Lucifer asked him or it's been a bit since he's seen or talked to you and wants to know that you're okay
The other way he protects you is checking online and keeping a lookout for any potential threats or nefarious plans against you
He won't intervene unless said people seem to be very serious or actually putting their plan into motion
If such a plan is in motion, he warns the rest of his brothers
No matter what arises if he either ends up stopping or warning the others about there's always the same result
Anything they want online, somehow they can't find it anywhere
They want to simply look about the internet? They best be prepared for all the pop up adds and bugs imaginable
Levi is making sure they never even think about hurting you ever again
This turned out longer then I originally thought it would be.... I promise to write about the other brothers!
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queenariesofnarnia · 10 months ago
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never underestimate the bunny
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gif not mine!
wc: 642ish
Alastor x f!bunny!reader
warnings: tiny amount of violence, some verbal harassment( not from alastor), a wee bit of blood, and a mildly suggestive ending
🦌❤️ You were a sweetheart no doubt about it and none of your friend s doing out what landed you in hell. Especially as a bunny demon, everyone believed they had to protect you. Until one day you and Angel were out shopping.
“Toots you should get the red dress! it made ya smile sparkle” Angel told you as you tried on a new article of clothing. “Only if you get the matching black skirt with me!” you tell him laughing and he joins in. As you finished up shopping and began to stroll back to the hotel a group of sinners started pestering you. “Come here little bunny” one creep said “I bet you’d make a pretty little fuck toy” another yelled out. You grip your bags continuing on your way. Angel ignoring the thirst thrown his way since he was used to it. Until another one of them yelled at you. “Don’t be a bitch and let us breed you little bunny” the third one yelled. Huffing you place your bags in Angel’s hands. Your ear twitching in annoyance. “Angel be a doll and just head back. I’ll catch up” you instruct your friend. He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind but you gave him a nod of reassurance. You turn around facing the men before pulling a gun out your small purse shooting each man in their dick before pouncing on them ripping into them. Once you were through you placed your gun back in your purse turning away from the bodies to make your way back to the hotel. Angel witnessed it all, once you pulled your gun out he didn’t want to miss a chance to see you fight. “You got some blood on you toots” he gestures to your dress that was now stained. You shrug and laugh it off together. Making jokes about it until you walk through the doors. You receive a normal greeting from everyone until charlie screams. “You’re covered in blood!” she’s pointing at your dress. you just nod at her reaction. “Are you hurt?” Vaggie asked looking you over. “It’s not my blood” you tell them calmly. “Ya should’ve seen it.Cottontail here knows how to hold her own” Angel praises setting the bags by the couch before heading to the bar to bother Husk. He begins telling Husk the story as you head upstairs, you notice a shadow following you and don’t mind it until you get to your room. “You can come in but no telling Alastor if you see more than you should” you joke with the shadow. “Don’t tell me what cher?” the beautiful static voice reaches your ears as he appears in your room. “Well Alastor I was telling your shadows they may not inform you if they see more of me than they should.” you tell him with a smile. “Now my dear bunny, what is the fun in that hmmm?” he asks you stepping closer taking your appearance in. “Might I say you look like quite the dish covered in blood” he compliments his smile not leaving his face. “They probably would’ve tasted awful” you tell him jokingly. it made him genuinely laugh, it’s a rare sound you had the pleasure of hearing. “I’m sure you’re absolutely right my dear. I overheard our lovely spider friend telling dear ol’ Husker how you handled the scum who accosted you.” he steps closer to you caging you in between the dresser and his body. you are place your hands on his chest smiling up at him. “Your’e looking at me like I’m your next meal darling” your voice soft, the term of endearment slipping past your lips with ease. “With the way you look cher. You might be” he places a light kiss on your shoulder before giving you space. “Just say the word”
a/n: here’s pt 2 that no one asked for but i felt like doing :)
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cyberesc · 3 months ago
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CAUGHT IN THE RAIN.
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ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Prohero!Reader
˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: angst thoughts, reader is in a depressive state, fluff, hurt/comfort, pining izuku, soft izuku, he just wants the best for you, izuku still has OFA
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The rain was relentless, pouring down heavily, soaking the streets of Musutafu as the sounds of city life carried on beneath it. It was late, the sun long gone, and while most people sought shelter from the storm, you sat on the ledge of a tall building, unmoving, drenched to the bone.
Your mask was clutched tightly in your hand, forgotten as you stared blankly at the streets below. You haven't felt like yourself lately. The constant pressure of being a hero, of saving people day in and day out, had started to weigh on you. It gnawed at your mind, chipping away at the version of yourself you thought you had control over. You were supposed to be strong, unshakable. But lately, it felt like you were barely holding yourself together.
You thought this spot, your usual hiding place, would bring you some sense of peace. It always had before. But tonight, the rain only amplified the emptiness you felt. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. The cold, the rain, none of it seemed to reach you. You were lost in your thoughts, in the fog that had clouded your mind.
"Y/N..."
The voice cut through the rain, gentle yet concerned. You didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but you recognized it instantly. Izuku. You hadn’t noticed him approach, but you weren’t surprised. He always had a way of finding you, of showing up when you needed him, even if you hadn’t asked.
“I was wondering where you went,” he said softly. Careful not to startle you, Izuku stepped closer, his boots splashing softly against the wet concrete of the rooftop. His heart raced as he watched you, sitting so close to the edge, so still, so... vulnerable.
You didn’t respond, just kept staring off into the streets, eyes distant and clouded. He was used to your silences lately, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less for him to see you like this. You could sense his worry growing the closer he got, but you were too numb to find the right words to reassure him.
“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer this time as he crouched down next to you. He was cautious, not wanting to scare you or make you slip. He could see the tight grip you had on your mask, your knuckles white from the pressure.
The rain made it hard to tell, but as he got closer, he realized your eyes were red, swollen, and despite the rain washing down your face, he could see the tear tracks that lined your cheeks. His heart clenched at the sight, a wave of protectiveness surging through him.
He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew you were hurting.
“Hey…” he whispered, his hand reaching out slowly to grasp your utility belt. With a gentle tug, he pulled you closer to him, not hard enough to startle you, but firm enough that your body slid toward him, the slick ground making it easier for him to guide you away from the edge. He unconsciously positioned himself between you and the drop, making sure you couldn’t fall or slip, his instinct to protect you overriding everything else.
You didn’t resist. In fact, you didn’t say anything at all. You simply let him move you, your body limp, your gaze distant. And then, after a few moments of silence, you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as the rain continued to pour down on both of you.
Izuku’s breath hitched at the contact, his heart skipping a beat. His first instinct was to ask if you were okay, to demand answers as to why you were sitting here, looking so lost and broken. But he didn’t. He knew better. Instead, he stayed quiet, letting the silence settle between you both, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles.
He could feel the way your body trembled, whether from the cold or the emotions you were trying so hard to suppress, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. He was here. He would always be here.
His eyes traveled across your face, taking in the way your hair clung to your cheeks, the rain trailing down the bridge of your nose and dripping off your chin. Even now, even in the midst of your pain, he thought you were beautiful.
The rain hadn’t let up, and as much as Izuku wanted to stay like this with you forever, he knew you’d both end up sick if you didn’t get out of the storm soon. Clearing his throat, he shifted his arm around your waist.
“We should get out of the rain,” he said gently, tilting his head to look at you. “Before we both end up with a cold.”
You didn’t argue. You were too tired to protest and without another word, he carefully slipped his arms under your legs and around your back, lifting you into his arms with ease. The action was so swift, so effortless, that you barely registered what was happening until you were cradled against his chest.
“I’m taking you back to my place,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to be alone right now.”
Before you could argue, he activated Blackwhip, the tendrils of his quirk stretching out and securing around nearby buildings. He swung you both across the city, his movements precise and smooth despite the rain. You clung to him out of instinct, your fingers gripping his damp hero suit as he navigated the storm with ease. The city blurred beneath you, the wind whipping past as he carried you through the night, but all you could focus on was the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear, the way his arms held you so securely, as if he was afraid to let you go.
His apartment wasn’t far, and within minutes, he landed on the balcony. The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the cold rain that had soaked you both. He set you down gently on the couch, running a hand through his damp hair as he took in your drenched form.
You winced as you sat, guilt churning in your gut as you felt the fabric of the couch soaking the rain from your clothes. You’d been here when he bought this couch, helped him move in to his apartment with help from Ms. Midoriya and Bakugo. 
The sound of Izuku’s gloves hitting the coffee table with a wet smack brought you from your thoughts. 
“Stay here,” he murmured, disappearing for a moment before returning with a towel and dry clothes. If you could, you’d laugh at the way his oversized faded All Might shirt swallowed him up. He knelt in front of you, his movements careful as he draped the towel over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently wiped away the rain that clung to your face.
You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your exhaustion evident. He was being so careful, so tender.
“Izuku,” you finally whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. He paused, looking up at you with those wide, green eyes, so full of concern. “’m sorry.”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you sorry for?”
“Worrying you,” you said, your voice barely audible. “For... being like this.”
His heart clenched at your words, and he shook his head, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to apologize for that.” He placed a hand on your knee, his thumb brushing back and forth in soothing motions.
Izuku was quiet for a long moment, glancing at you as you fiddled with the seams of the towel. Then, with a deep breath, he finally spoke.
“You know... I worry about you sometimes.” His voice was soft but steady.
You bit your lip, feeling the familiar sting of tears. He sighed, shaking his head. “Taking care of you is important to me, Y/N. You’re not a burden. Not to me.”
The sincerity in his voice broke through the walls you’d built up, and before you could stop yourself, the tears began to fall, mixing with the remnants of rain on your cheeks. Izuku was there in an instant, pulling you into his arms, holding you as the sobs wracked your body.
He didn’t say anything, just held you close, his hand running through your damp hair as he whispered reassurances in your ear. “It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.”
You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally spilled. The rain outside had softened to a drizzle, but inside his apartment, it felt warm, safe.
After a while, the sobs subsided, leaving you feeling drained but lighter. You pulled back slightly, wiping at your eyes, embarrassed by the mess you’d made. But Izuku just smiled softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I promise.”
You looked up at him, your heart beating against your ribcage as his eyes met yours. And before you could think, before the fear of ruining everything could take over, you leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his.
For a moment, time stopped. Izuku froze, his eyes wide in surprise, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into the kiss, his hand slipping around the back of your neck, holding you gently as he kissed you back with a tenderness that made your heart swell.
When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, eyes still closed.
“Izuku... thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.
His cheeks flushed slightly, but his smile never wavered. “I’d do anything for you.”
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etheries1015 · 11 months ago
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I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭
I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!
Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!
featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!
general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \
TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.
Leona
The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.
"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"
Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.
Ruggie
"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"
"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.
Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.
"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3
Jack
He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.
He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.
With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.
You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3
Azul
He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.
But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;
"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.
He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.
He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.
Jade
The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.
"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.
He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.
But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.
He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!
Floyd
Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.
You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.
"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.
Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.
The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.
"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...
He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.
Ya'll are so silly for each other <3
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bunnys-kisses · 4 months ago
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૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ i love dark!simon as much as the next rabbit... but what about loving!simon?
simon had always been weary of love. he thought most women wanted a cute boyfriend, not a bulky mass of a man with more scars than hairs on his head. he was the kind of man with odd sleep schedules, he was scary and unapproachable. he remembered a time a waitress at a restaurant tried to get her co-worker to take his order because she was afraid simon was going to hurt her.
but you saw something different. you saw how he'd lean down to your level, let you kiss across the exposed parts of his face. how he'd buy you flowers on fridays and made sure that none of them could harm your cat. he was also a good cat dad to the stray you took in. simon remarked that it seemed like you had a thing for taking in strays. you just smiled and said, "well, every animal deserves a good home." and later that night carded your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. you think about delivered pizzas on tuesdays, and him trying to explain the 'complicated' nature of football (correct football).
"i'm sorry i can't be your knight in shining armor." he said with his face up against your middle, cuddling in bed. you replied, "si, i'm the furthest thing from a princess. plus, growing up i didn't care for disney movies." and the mean, terrifying solider just melted into you. simon loved you, you were what kept his heart from growing cold. you were the rays of light in the morning. being with you assured that idea that he was still human. still able to love.
and simon showed his love for you every chance he got. even in more intimate ways. sex between you two was hot, but it wasn't quick. simon mapped out each of your curves with his tongue, he made sure his girl came at least twice before his cock even got a taste of your pussy. your pleasure was his priority. and you in turn showered him in praise. kisses along his scars as you reached for his cock. it was a mutual affair, filled with an intense love.
he'd still if you made a pained noise and apologize for being too rough. his hands never left bruises on you, but you left nice hickies on his neck and shoulders. sometimes you'd be on top so you could control the pace and other times he'd have you on your back to gaze into your beautiful eyes as he moved against you. his cock was a bit of a stretch, but you made it work. even if he had to watch you play with your clit and finger yourself to get yourself nice and ready for him. and he'd eagerly watch, those brown eyes focused on your sopping wet pussy. his cock in his grasp, edging himself before he sank into your sweet sex.
afterwards, simon kept you in his arms. using his protective muscle to keep you safe. kisses on your warmed cheeks and asking if you need anything. his girl wouldn't go without. because he loved you. his entire life he had felt on the outside, like a monster. but as he held you to his side, he felt human. a human capable of a deep ever lasting love. you were his heartbeat, the rhythm that kept him alive. <3
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