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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 day ago

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Soulmate(s) | Part 2

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: In a world where you get the name of your soulmate tattooed on your skin the night you turn 21, there should be no reason to even think about fucking around with anyone else. Why would you when you know that the perfect person who is made just for you is somewhere out there waiting for you to find them?

So how the hell did you end up messing around with your two best friends and what are you going to do if neither of them ends up being your soulmate or worse, what if one of them is your soulmate?

Warnings: fem!reader, soulmates au, this is not a light fic, there will be backstabbing and manipulation, sub!soobin, dom!gyu, switch/gyu, handjob, cunnilingus, blowjob, tit-fucking, cumming all over oc lol

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Beomgyu and Soobin have been trying to convince you to hook up with them again since you’ve last done it, something you’ve been very hesitant to do. You’d only really meant to kiss Soobin. You didn’t mean for Beomgyu to get involved or for things to go this far, but it seems you’ve opened Pandora's box now as the two boys have only become bolder and more insatiable since then–begging and pleading you to join them every time you were alone together.

Yes, join them, as they clearly have not been waiting for your permission to continue their forbidden rendezvous, and they’re making sure you know. Like right now, you were supposed to have your regular movie night together but none of you were paying any attention to the movie. The two boys are loudly kissing on the couch as Beomgyu’s hand moves under Soobin’s pants– the wet sounds of their kissing and their heavy moans and grunts would make it impossible to hear the movie if you were even trying to.

But you’re not, and you can’t pretend you are. They can clearly see the stern frown you’re throwing at them, but they don’t care, Beomgyu’s face buried in the older boy’s neck as he jerks him off in his pants.

Soobin whines your name out, the plea clear in his voice, and it would make you wet if you weren’t already soaked. “Come here, please. I want to kiss you.”

Ugh, the siren call. It was one thing for Beomgyu to beckon you towards this sin with his smirking face and cocky attitude, but it’s another thing entirely for your good little Soobin to so sweetly, so cunningly, try to break your inhibitions. No, he’s not sweet or innocent. He knows what he’s doing and it’s fucking working.

Beomgyu lifts his head from Soobin’s wet neck to level you with his heavy gaze as he pulls Soobin’s cock out of his pants. “Come on, baby, look how much he needs you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together. Damn them. Damn them to hell.

“It doesn’t look like he needs me. Looks like you’re taking care of him all right on your own.” You impress yourself by being able to speak through your completely parched throat.

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’d like it extra hard if your pretty mouth was on his cock.” At this, he twists his hand around Soobin’s head and the older boy cries out. “Yes, please, please, want it.”

“Shut up.” You curse him under your breath as your hand finally moves between your legs to soothe the burning need there. You’ve watched them do this way too many times now. It burned you with both need and jealousy because, damn it, you want to be with them too but it’s wrong! You can’t do this. You need to stop it and remain loyal to your destined soulmate.

But like a vulture, Beomgyu jumps at the first sign of weakness from you. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that.” He tugs on your arm, pulling it away from your pussy, making you almost growl at him. How dare he?! Hasn’t he tortured you enough?

But you don’t get the chance to chew him out because he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing his front and his very hard cock pressing against your lower back, his large warm hands on your inner thighs and the precum from Soobin’s dick sticking to your skin.

“Let us take care of you.” He purrs in your ears, his hands massaging your sensitive thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most. You try to close your legs but he doesn’t let you, and you can’t fucking think with his hot breath on your skin. “Let us make it stop hurting.”

“Fucking asshole.”

He laughs at your response, one of his hands getting impossibly close to your pussy. “Is that a yes?”

“Just get it over with.”

Now you know Beomgyu would’ve liked a more enthusiastic response than that but you also know that he’ll take what he can get, and after weeks of begging and whoring around, he finally gets to touch you, his long fingers pressing over your covered slit.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He moans, greedily pushing your shorts to the side so he can fully feel how wet you really are, his fingers easily gliding over your wet lips, and you keen, your back arching at the sudden intense stimulation.

“I hate you.” You still put up your act, but Beomgyu doesn’t care, just focusing on breaking you down on his fingers. And break you do, gushing out even more slick as he alternates between rubbing your clit and sliding his fingers up and down your pussy.

You almost forget that you’re not the only two people there for a second, too lost in the intense pleasure, until Soobin whines and you see him moving out of the periphery of your vision to take center stage on the floor in front of you.

“Can I try it now, Beommie?” The older boy’s hands sear your skin as he pushes your thighs further apart and presses his face right between them. You shriek, reflexively attempting to close your legs once again at the embarrassing and exposed position you’ve found yourself in but you stand no chance against the two boys splaying you open for their pleasure.

“You’re scaring her, idiot.” Beomgyu snaps at Soobin but you can see that the older boy is only half listening, too focused on the way Beomgyu’s fingers continue to play with your pussy. “Should’ve waited a bit.”

“But I can’t wait any longer!” Soobin whines and you crane your head to try to catch Beomgyu’s eyes. “Wait for what? What are you two shits planning?”

Beomgyu uses the opportunity of you turning your head towards him to steal a quick kiss from your lips. “Binnie just wanted a taste. He’s been talking about it nonstop. Will you let him have a little taste?”

Your eyes widen. “You’ve both lost your minds. You really think I’ll let him do that? You’re both perverts!”

Soobin starts loudly whining, attempting to plead his case, attempting to convince you that he–the man with his dick out at your feet and begging to eat you out–is not a pervert. But Beomgyu snaps at him, shutting him up.

“Forget it. You ruined it. She doesn’t want it.” He hisses at the older boy who amazingly cowers back and shuts up. “Here, this is enough for you.” He takes his hand off your pussy and pushes the wet fingers against Soobin’s pillowy lips. You gasp as the other boy immediately opens up to suck them in, moaning out obscenely as if it’s the tastiest sweet he’s ever had.

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, pulling his hand away from Soobin and making them both protest.

“Why?!”

“Come on, let him have this.”

“You’re both disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting about wanting to taste our lover?” Beomgyu asks, and you shiver at the word–lover. Are you lovers? Why does that word make your heart flutter so much? “You must’ve seen the educational tapes. This is a perfectly normal part of pleasuring your mate, just like if you were to suck his cock.”

“Oh, I would not do that. No way.” Your face flushes heatedly as you vehemently deny you’d do such a dirty thing. “It wouldn’t even fit…”

You know cunnilingus is a normal sex act but it feels too intimate to share with someone who isn’t your soulmate–with your two fucking best friends.

“Now you’re just being a tease.” Beomgyu growls, eyes darkening at your choice of words.

“Please,” Soobin inches closer to you again, his big bunny eyes staring up at you as his plush lips stop centimeters away from your needy pussy, so deprived that even his breath makes you shiver.

You’ve already done so much together. Would it really be so bad to let him do this? He seems to really want it, and you can’t deny the fact that you want it too. They’ve both teased you way too much already. Why are you teasing yourself?

“Okay.”

“Oh, than–” You can’t even hear the rest of his appreciation as it gets smushed against your lower lips.

“Fuck.” You curse lowly, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and pleasure as Soobin finds his way around your pussy–first very clumsily but slowly getting more deliberate, guided by the boy behind you.

“Slow down.” He tells him when Soobin gets too rowdy, “Flatten your tongue out. Focus here.” He instructs as if he’s done this before and somehow it’s working. You’re slowly but surely feeling your high build up.

“How the fuck do you know so much?” You grit out, asking Beomgyu.

“I watch the videos a lot.” He admits easily, referring again to the education videos all of you are provided when you get closer to your 21st birthday so you’d know what to expect when you finally meet your lover. “Wanna make sure my soulmate will be thanking their lucky stars they ended up with me.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right. The pervert probably is just using them to get off every night if what you’ve witnessed of his libido these past few weeks is any indication. “I don’t remember the educational videos containing such filth. Are you sure you haven’t been watching those soulmateless degenerates instead?” You accuse, referring to the taboo tapes sold secretly by some of those who have either never gotten a soulmate or have lost them in one way or another.

In a society such as your own, where almost everyone has a second half, those without their fated partners end up being shunned. They simply freak people out. After all, why don’t they have someone? What is so wrong with them that the universe has chosen to curse them to a life where they’ll never know the touch of true love?

Even still, not all of them start out totally isolated. After all, they were once just like all of you with loving families and supportive friends before their terrible fates were revealed on the very day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives–expecting to be given eternal love and instead finding themselves with a gaping hole in their hearts that is only fated to grow bigger and bigger every passing day.

Their loved ones may try to cheer them up. They may try to convince them that they could still lead a normal life. They try to pretend that nothing has changed, but everything has changed. Their lives could never be the same after that. They know it and everyone around them knows it too. They would never be in love. They would never marry and have a family. They would never know what it’s like to finally feel whole. And it slowly gets to them. The older they grow, the bigger the gap in their heart grows and they begin to resent those around them. They begin to begrudge those who have what they never will. They turn angry and bitter and they start lashing out at the very people who tried to help them.

They start to seek out the passion that is missing from their lives in other places. Some turn to drugs, some turn to sex and some take on dangerous and risky jobs just to feel alive. They may even come to gain some respect and prominence in society depending on how they choose to chase those thrills. But it would never be enough. They would always have to do more and more to get even a fraction of the natural bliss that comes from finding your soulmate and knowing you’re finally home, and they start losing themselves bit by bit, chasing even riskier and riskier highs until they burn out.

You shudder at the thought. That is your worst fear. To be left abandoned by the universe.

You’re thankfully torn out of your gloomy thoughts when Beomgyu unceremoniously pulls your shirt up over your chest to expose your breasts which he cups in his hands and expertly kneads, massaging the soft flesh and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

Instantly, pleasure floods your brain and drowns out the scary thoughts until all you can think of is how strong and solid he feels against you, how his long sure fingers touch you so well, and how sexy his deep voice sounds in your ear as he continues to instruct Soobin on what to do.

“Fuck.” You cry, arching into his touch, throwing your legs wider apart and inadvertently pushing your pussy against Soobin’s face, his nose brushing against your clit and causing a spasm to go through your body. “I’m close. Don’t stop.”

Through blurry eyes you see Beomgyu grab Soobin’s hair and push him even further against your pussy, rubbing his face against you as the older boy excitedly lets his tongue flick between your lower lips, filling the room with an obscene wet noise that rises even louder than the ringing in your ears.

“Soobinnie, fuck!” You groan and Beomgyu nips at your neck, lightly grazing the skin of your neck with his teeth, careful not to mark you, and pinches your nipples between his fingers, pulling your orgasm right out of you.

“Yes, yes, I’m cumming!” You scream out, your orgasm ripping through your body as both boys ruthlessly continue playing with you, not letting up until you start tearing up. “Enough, enough, too much.”

Beomgyu is the first to stop. It takes him pushing Soobin away for the other boy to stop too–whether not caring or not hearing, you don’t know, but when he is detached from your pussy, you see how his entire lower face is now covered in your slick–his pretty lips even bigger and puffier from the activity.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and Beomgyu laughs.

“He's so good, isn't he baby? Those dirty lips were made just for this.” He pulls Soobin's head back to run his thumb over his wet lips. “He’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy, huh?”

Beomgyu's the one who’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy. Though Soobin has done most of the work, it’s Beomgyu's constant filth in your ears that worked you up so much. It’s like he can get you both to do anything and it scares you.

What if you end up cursed because you’ve gotten greedy and chose to seek out the pleasure and intimacy that is supposed to only come from your soulmate from someone else?

“This is so wrong.” You slur and Soobin frowns, pulling your leg down so he can place your foot over his hard cock, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil happening inside your brain. “It would still be wrong after you get us off.”

You glare at him as Beomgyu bursts out laughing behind you. “Fucker.”

“He’s right, baby. It’s unfair to say this after we’ve already gotten you off.” He grinds his cock against your ass and you hate how that still makes you burn. “I said it from the start, asshole.”

“Well then it won’t make a difference if you get us off too.”

He slips out from under you to stand up in front of you, pushing his shorts down and shamelessly giving his hard cock a few pumps right in front of your face. “Look how hard you got me with your pretty little moans.”

“You're disgusting.” You scoff but Soobin also rushes to his feet, his own cock already out ages ago.

“Me too. Wanna feel your touch too. Beommie is too mean. He always teases too much.”

At the mention of their previous hookups you get jealous again. They have done so much without you it’s not fair. What if one of them is your soulmate and you’re missing out on all your first experiences together because you won’t join them. You know you like them both, and you know they like you too. Soulmates can feel a connection even before the names are revealed so it’s not unlikely that one of them is destined for you.

At least that is how you justify to yourself the jealous drive that prompts you to reach out to grab their cocks, one in each hand, jerking them off slowly but firmly.

“Fuck yeah.” Beomgyu groans, throwing his head back slightly in pleasure but keeping his eyes on you

“Your hands are so small.” Soobin marvels and Beomgyu adds, “And so soft.”

You blush, feeling shy under their intense gazes. You try to fix your clothes to cover yourself up but they immediately protest.

“No, why? You look so sexy.” Soobin cries, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his cock.

“Come on, it will get us off much faster seeing your pretty tits out like this.” Beomgyu spews filthily, and you glare up at him, but he just smirks. “Fuck, you’re even sexy when you’re angry. Wonder how much better you’ll look with your face covered in my cum and your tits covered in Soobin’s.”

The older boy squeaks at that, pushing his hips forward so the head of his long cock brushes against your nipple, smearing a light sheen of precum over it.

“Soobin!” You gasp, glaring at him, but Beomgyu cups your face and turns it towards him. “Come on, baby, let him have his fun. He’s been so good to you, hasn’t he? Eaten out that pretty little pussy so well, yeah?” He drawls out, his thumb brushing over your lips.

You get so pulled in by his heated gaze that you let Soobin do what he wants, rubbing his cock again and again across your tits while Beomgyu pushes his thumb into your mouth.

“Good girl. You wanna be such a good girl for us, don’t you?” He purrs, completely enchanting you somehow. He uses his thumb in your mouth and his grip on your face to make you nod and you let him. How is he so good at this? And why are you letting him?

“Wanna try your mouth.” He pleads, taking his thumb out of your mouth and gliding the head of his cock over your lips instead. You feel the wetness smear over them and your tongue instinctively peaks out to clean it up, in the process coming into contact with Beomgyu’s cock and making him gasp out in need. “Please.”

If you had planned to refuse him before, you couldn’t after seeing how weak and desperate just that little touch made him. You’ve been fantasizing about seeing him break again since that last time. He just looks so pretty when he loses it.

“Just the tip.” You say and he curses. “Fuck, okay, baby, anything. Need it so bad.”

And he pushes in. Just the tip as promised, but you feel like even that fills up your mouth. You wrap your lips around his head and press your tongue against the slit to lap up his precum like a lollipop. It immediately drives him mad and he throws his head back and cries out like a desperate slut. It makes you want to push him more and more so you intensify your efforts, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the head, watching his whole body shake as you suck and lap at the head of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Hey, no fair, we promised to share her.” Soobin’s whine jolts you out of the spell Beomgyu cast on you and your turn your head towards him to see him try to push his cock towards your mouth too.

You take your mouth off Beomgyu, making him growl and snap at Soobin. “What the fuck, man? I was so close!”

“Beomgyu, play nice.” You scold him, secretly loving the fact that they’re fighting for your attention. Those two have made your life a hot hell for the last few weeks with their little lewd shows. They made you horny and jealous and frustrated and you love giving them just a little bit of that energy back. And secretly you’re happy and relieved that they want you too–that they have not just found each other and abandoned you–that you still have a chance with one of them.

“Binnie, I thought you wanted to fuck my tits.” You purr, repeating Beomgyu’s choice of words and making the tall boy shudder and his eyes grow heavy. Those boys really are suckers for dirty talk, huh?

“Yeah but Beomgyu–”

“No buts.” You tighten your hand around his cock and pull him forward, pressing his cock flush against the middle of your chest and shutting him up. “Press my tits together so you can fuck them nice and hard. Don’t want you to stop until they’re covered in your cum.”

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath and rushes to do as you ordered, grabbing your breasts in his big hands and pressing them together before going off at a rough choppy pace.

You feel a harsh tug at your hair as Beomgyu turns your head back towards him, your eyes meeting his narrowed ones, but as you open your mouth to chastise him for his roughness, he pushes his cock back in your mouth.

You attempt to say something but with his incessant grip at the back of your head and his sloppy thrusts into your mouth, all that comes out is a wet garbled mess. Soon, you give up, just letting your two best friends use your body to get off, their tall frames looming over you and their filthy gazes eating you up as one fucks your mouth and the other fucks your tits.

You feel so dirty yet so hot, and in that moment you understand the urge that drives those without soulmates to seek such lurid pleasures. If they end up together and you end up alone, you can see yourself falling victim to these desires. You just love them both so much, it scares you. You want them to be yours, and that terrifies you. Only one of them could be your soulmate. Neither of them could be your soulmate…

“Ah, I’m so close.” You hear Soobin whine. You try to look at him but Beomgyu doesn’t let you. Instead you see him reach out of the corner of your eyes to wrap his hand around Soobin’s cock and jerk him off fast, quickly pushing him over the edge.

You can’t see it but you know he has cum when you hear the breathy shouts of your and Beomgyu’s names and feel his hot cum splattering across your chest. You whine around Beomgyu’s cock and start resisting the way he’s moving you over his cock as you feel your jaw becoming sore and your lips getting bruised.

He sighs, letting you pull away a little bit, drool following behind his swollen length out of your mouth and down your chin and his hand as he grabs his cock it with the same hand he used to jerk Soobin off so he can now pump his own cock inches away from your face. “Ready for it, baby?”

Your mouth is so numb you can only muster out a little whimper that makes Beomgyu curse under his breath and his grip falter over his cock as he loses it, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes over your face. You instinctively close your eyes, wincing as the warm sticky substance lands on your face.

“No, look at me.” Beomgyu growls, tugging at your hair, the sting making your eyelids crack open slightly to lock eyes with Beomgyu and witness the last of his orgasm. “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

“Fuck, that is so hot.” You hear Soobin mutter and the unmistakable wet sound of his hand moving over his spent cock as he watches Beomgyu treat you like a fucktoy.

You feel so filthy–sitting there with your shirt pulled up and your shorts pushed to the side, exposed and absolutely covered in both their cums while they stare at you as if they’re not even close to having their fill.

And you’re not either. God help you but you know that this is just the start. You’ve been pulled in and now you don’t think you can resist them anymore.

This is bad. This is so bad and you know it won’t end well.

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A/N: second chapter here, still not much plot but it will come I swear lol. the fics I have rn are so different, one only plot so far and one only smut. anyway let me know how we're feeling

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #soobin smut #ask and you shall receive #my writings

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yandere-fics · 3 days ago

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♡ Rayna's Sister Remembers The First Timeline ♡

(remember this is in the other country so all references to the royal family are a different one then the one we know and love.)

Your first life hadn't been a very happy one, the illegitimate child of a duke kept for reasons you couldn't even understand. They kept you in the annex while the real heir to the duke, your older legitimate sister Rayna was allowed to shine, which in turn led to a lo of jealously and resentment towards her on your part. In fact your whole childhood you'd resented her and in turn it seemed like she hardly paid you any attention at all. You were sure when she took the title of duke from your mother she would most certainly exile you from the household or execute you for being a drain on resources. You were absolutely sure that's what would have happened until at 22 years old you awakened as a mage, a painful process. She'd been away training on the day it happened which you considered a blessing because you were sure if your mother or her had been at the house that day they would have stopped anyone from coming to help you. It was a mana explosion, your body was too weak to handle the drain your magic was having on you and you needed to bind yourself to a knight who could help share your burden. Even with the duke and heir being away from the manor though, it still took two hours for anyone to bother stepping in leaving you to burn up in the meantime until the knight captain finally stepped up and allowed you to bind to her saving you from a painful death.

You vaguely remember how angry both of them had looked when they returned home, just barely being able to stand and hold yourself together long enough for your mother to announce you had to marry the knight you'd bonded to in order to prevent a scandal and Rayna stomping off to her own personal study mumbling something about finding a way to break a mage bond. You were sure she was furious a knight who showed such promise was now stuck with her illegitimate sister. You passed out for weeks after that and had been unable to participate in the planning of your own wedding, your body struggling to recover from the wounds your own mana had inflicted on you and it didn't help your knight wasn't keen on remaining close to you to speed the healing process, only coming in once a day in order to stop your mana from going haywire without them again. You think someone else had been coming in to treat your wounds and bathe you every day but you'd been unable to open your eyes fully to see who it was who'd taken pity on you. When you finally did come to everything was set in motion and all you had to do was get the wedding dress they'd picked for you altered. It was a heavy thing, you were sure you'd be able to walk in it with how your leg had been fucked up by your own magic but you didn't protest. They'd gone for this to cover all the ugly scars along your body most likely. The veil too was thick to keep anyone from gasping in horror when they saw you walking down the aisle. You were just happy they didn't try to put make up on your facial wounds, they would have surely gotten infected if they had.

So despite having just barely regained conscious, with a leg that ached in agony with the slightest pressure put on it, you walked down the aisle in a thick sweaty wedding dress, in a room full of nobles you saw you as a disgrace and a family who could hardly even look at you on your wedding day. The royal family had attended your wedding and the princess made snide remarks about your parentage the entire time meanwhile your knight lamented being forced to be with you in the corner with the fellow members of their squad. At the end of the day you returned to your dusty little annex bedroom without your now spouse even by your side and that was how your life was daily for the next three years until your sister took the title of duke. That came with a few changes, number one your knight wasn't allowed to just leave the manor like they had before, it looked bad on the duke's family if they left you all by yourself so your knight was forced to actually spend more time with you to stabilize your mana. The bigger change though, something that made you resent your sister more than you ever had thought possible, her engagement to the princess of your country. The same princess who delighted in mocking you for being a bastard child for years at the point and harassed you your whole wedding day. You had known Rayna must have not care for you in the slightest but this felt like she just needed to get in own final betrayal, one last stab in the gut to drive it home that you weren't wanted in your own house. An engagement with the royal family did bring prestige to your house though and that seemed to be all that mattered. You also found out Rayna had still been searching for ways to break the bond you had with your knight something which ate at you. You and her both knew breaking the bond usually meant death for the mage actually in the bond but she still was looking for ways anyways. It was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship and after that you decided it would be best if you never spoke a word out loud to her again.

So you didn't, you didn't utter a word to anyone for five years, didn't even use the magic you'd been given because that would mean you'd need to be stabilized more often and although your spouse was supposed to remain at your side, they were often still nowhere to be found. A mage was a special resource in your kingdom but you were just allowing your gift to just waste away. Then on a winter day you found yourself with no choice but to use it to light the fireplace in your annex bedroom, Rayna had assigned you a maid but you couldn't waste that maids time, despite knowing your spouse wasn't anywhere near you. It was that or freeze to death but it had been what ultimately took your life as you began to trash around and fever. You remember a maid had come to check on you and ran to get Rayna who'd mobilized the entire house knights to try to find your spouse. You think she'd grabbed your hand in your final moments but you'd been too out of it and a day after trying to light a fire in your bedroom, you died. You don't remember much of your death but you know you had to of died considering you were now here, two months before your magic burst trying your best to turn things around so maybe this time you wouldn't have such a shitty fate.

You'd made rules for yourself, things you wanted to make amends for before you died to your magic burst this time. First, you'd stay away from people when your burst happened this time, you didn't want to ruin anyone's promising career so when the day came you'd go hid in the woods where no one was sure to find you. It was better that way. You'd stop yourself from resenting your sister this time, it wasn't her fault you were a smudge on the house and though you'd spent your final years hating her to no end she'd tried her best to find your spouse and had stayed there as you took your final breaths. She could have let you die lonely but in your final day your bedroom was filled with people begging you to hold on because they would surely find your spouse though the servants were more worried what would happen to them if you died because they neglected to keep your spouse from leaving the manor. Perhaps if you had spent more time trying to understand her when you were younger, your relationship wouldn't have became as strained as it was. You wanted to not die with hate in your heart this time. Your mother was a bit trickier to reconcile with but you didn't want to die a useless bastard child so your goal with her was to leave behind knowledge that would benefit the duke's house so they could live prosperous after your death. As for the servants, it couldn't have been easy for them to be assigned to a neglect illegitimate child, you wanted to be nicer to them. With those things in mind you set about your goal of living life to the fullest for your remaining two months. Things were a bit… actually much different this time.

The first change you noticed was in Rayna, during the time you had come back to Rayna was out at the capital of your country and was not supposed to return for a week but the day you'd come back to she'd also returned home rather quickly. You would have simply believed you'd misremembered the day she was supposed to return but your mother had even commented on how she arrived really quickly. Something about her was off too, she'd smiled widely and hugged you on her return before setting you down when she saw the confusion on your face. It had been the only time in your memory Rayna had ever smiled at you or hugged you. Baffling. From then on she was attached to you like glue, making it impossible for you to make amends with the other people on your list you had been wanting to talk to. You'd think she'd remember your past life but that was impossible because if she had surely she would have gone to propose to the princess, her fiancé in the last life. Perhaps it had been your own changes that had disturbed things though, you'd been friendly to her when you saw her came in so perhaps the hug was her being excited you'd decide not to harbor a grudge against her anymore. Then a month later she'd challenged your mother to a duel for the dukedom and won. Maybe spending time with you had given her the rest she needed to usurp your mother, something you'd known she'd wanted for a very long time even without your interference. After she won though you were moved out of the annex. In your past life you remained in the annex even after she became duke for your own protection considering the princess hated you and your spouse also had a reason to want you gone. The annex was tightly guarded with only her personal guards to try to keep you and your spouse inside though it didn't stop them from eventually sneaking out and leaving you alone somehow.

You liked your new room well enough though you had protested at first because it was right next to Rayna's room and was much too big and nice for a bastard child. rayna had insisted though, said it was your taste. You weren't sure how she knew your taste but she was right, it was exactly to your liking and the bed had been the most comfortable thing you'd ever laid on, even more comfortable than the mattress she'd given you in your annex in the last life. Your last month was quite honestly filled with joy and so when you snuck out to the forest to let yourself die on the final day, you had no regrets. You'd made up with Rayna, something you never thought possible before and while you hadn't made up with your mother, who was off traveling after being defeated you'd crossed the other two things off your list. Walking towards your death in the forest didn't feel so bad anymore. You went far in, not stopping walking until you were forced to, doubling over in pain with the mana burst finally began. You'd expected to be there for hours considering in the first life it took two hours for anyone to help and you'd still been alive at that point. That's not what happened though, half an hour in and you'd heard a horse fast approaching with Rayna shouting your name, grabbing onto you tightly and searing her face, and body, when she finally found you on the ground. You'd tried to stop it, you couldn't ruin her life by having her bind to you when you'd just barely gotten on positive terms but she'd forced it anyways, your mana beginning to flow into her binding her to you. Most knights didn't stand close to the mage when they did it, it was a process not requiring touch, they just had to accept your mana into their body. Your past spouse hadn't wanted to get hurt so they stood far away but Rayna held onto your tightly until the bond was completed and the burst ended. You almost felt as though you should yell at her, she ruined herself trying to help you, but you'd fallen asleep too quickly.

Rayna herself had been in a panic that night when she couldn't find you, your burst was supposed to begin and this time she wanted to be there to make sure he was the knight bonded to you. She'd spent the whole of your last life trying to figure out how to transfer the bond from your knight to her instead without finding any luck which was why she'd gotten engaged to that disgusting princess to begin with. There was a rumor the royals knew but even that was a dead end. She'd been so close to figuring it out when she'd been told you were dying because your spouse was nowhere to be found. It pissed her off, they'd been blessed enough to have you for a wife yet even on your wedding day they complained and now they'd left you to fend for yourself. At that point you'd long stopped speaking to her and while hearing your voice would have normally been joyous to her, hearing you cry out in pain for hours a you slowly withered away had been agony. You were fevering hard and eventually even the staff had to back up to not get hurt by your unstable mana. She stayed though, she burned up with you and when you finally stopped breathing she ended it all, not wanting to live in a world without her sister, her one true love anymore. It was nothing short of a miracle for her to go back in time to before the bond had happened. She'd rushed home immediately not even carrying that at this point in the timeline your relationship wasn't amicable. She'd been a fool in the past hiding her love in a misguided effort to protect you, first hiding so your mother wouldn't hurt you then hiding so the princess wouldn't hurt you, now though she was strong enough to never have to hide her feelings again. You were a bit of a foolish little sister too though, trying to go into the forest when you were so fragile. You probably hadn't have known you were going to burst, otherwise why would you have gone somewhere hidden from people? Either way that didn't matter, now you were her partner and this time at your wedding it would be an occasion you could remember fondly. It would be hard for her to keep her hands of you while she waited impatiently for your wedding night.

#yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #tw.incest #my oc ray

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thepepsicolafams-blog · 16 hours ago

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Everyone is talking about the parallels between this new chapter of BSD (Chapter 121) and BSD Beast.

Before in the last few chapters (Chapters 115 - 120.5) were compared to the BSD Novel “STROMBRINGER”— specifically of how both Atsushi and Chuuya had lost close members that they considered friends and family to a power Ability Users that knows way more about them then they know themselves and wants them to themselves for reason yet to be known.

But now in this current chapter though, it parallels to the BEAST universe with Atsushi and fear.

Here we have “Hallucination Dazai(?)” talk to Atsushi about how he never needed to be ‘brave’ or ‘strong’ to get stuff done or fight what he fears.

The chapter talks about fight fire with fire— or in this case fear with fear as “Hallucination Dazai(?)” directs Atsushi’s attention away from how scared he is to fight Ame No Gozen to save Akutagawa because it was way he had lost a great portion of his friends/family—to the now fear losing whatever now remains of his family and friends with Lucy and Kyouka still waiting for him in the ‘Anne Room’.

This fear turns into motivation that makes him keep fighting.

Somewhat similarly, this is also seen in BSD BEAST of how BEAST!Atsushi used his fear of pain, suffering and specifically Death to become the Port Mafia’s White Reaper.

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And this is just my thoughts so feel free to just skip this, but I find it interesting that this is not the first time something like this happened. Every time we saw “Hallucination Dazai” previous it said the same if not similar things to Atsushi.

I get that it's in his head, that's what a hallucination is, and he has the same thing with The Orphanage Headmaster, and I know it takes Dazai form to guild Atsushi and that’s it’s a hallucination in his mind so that it shouldn’t mean so much. But after seeing the end of this chapter I'm wondering how this will go out.

Like all I want to see now are some answers to Atsushi “Who you really are” like my guy... what do you mean!!! Is this a hallucination or something else? Is it Atsushi’s Bookmark powers telling him what to do and stuff, is it Atsushi connecting to the Book with how much it reflects to the world of BSD!Beast or is it Atsushi’s tiger powers/Byakko talking to him.

I say this because Atsushi had referred to know what this “hallucination” really is meaning that it’s not what we originally thought it was/that’s it’s not really a hallucination of Dazai but something else entirely.

Is it Atsushi finally understanding what Dazai had been teaching, what he is telling him, this whole time and discoing/realizing who he really is.

Looking into himself in the picture he made of Dazai to help him keep fight to finally understand that he has a right to live, that he doesn't need to be brave to fight-- that he always been able/has been doing this and that he should stop now because some rat drew some pictures and ripped some paper.

Having that anime protagonist moments of self-discovery and finding the will to keep fighting.

Guess we just have to wait and see. Next Chapter is coming next month, and I can't wait for what happens next!

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On another note, it's a very funny coincidence that when I went to the library the only BSD Novels there were that day were BSD! BEAST & BSD! STROMBRINGER-- both of which i took with me and am now reading! What a coincidence!!

#pepsicola011 #atsushi nakajima #bungou stray dogs #bsd #the book #bsd atsushi #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd theories #Atsushi the Bookmark #byakko #bsd byakko #bsd 121 #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers #bsd chapter 121 #bsd spoilers #bsd beast

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cfierce116 · 3 days ago

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No Sleep Part Three

A/N: Woooowwwwww. It took me an entire six months but I finally decided to pop up once again. I never intended to take this long of a break but I was not in a good place mentally and needed a break. But I couldn't let this story go just yet so here we are. Thank you for all the love Part One and Part Two received. I believe there's one more part remaining but it's still a work in progress. Promise it won't take me another six-ish months to complete. Enjoy.

*Pairings: Jey Uso/OC (black fem)

*Warnings: 18+

*Word Count: Approximately 3900 words.

Jon placed the two dumbbells he was using on the rack and turned to face his brothers. “So yall got anything else to do before we head to the arena?”

Sefa sat up on the bench he was laying on and shook his head. He bent over to grab his bottle of water and took a large gulp. “Just take a quick shower. What about you Uce?”

Silence followed Sefa’s question causing him and Jon to look over towards Josh. They snickered quietly as they watched him staring at the scene before him.

Jon shook his head while he walked towards his twin before he stood directly next to him. He snapped his fingers in his face. “Yo Uce!”

Josh snapped back to reality at the sound of Jon’s voice. He glanced over his shoulders to his brothers. “What’s up?”

“We tryna see if you had anything else to do before we left for the arena,” Sefa explained. “But you ain’t hear us because you’re too busy starin at Imani. Again.”

Josh smacked his lips. “I ain’t staring at Imani.” He grabbed the dumbbells he was using and started walking towards the rack to place the weights back.

“You definitely starin at her like a love sick puppy Uce. Like you’ve been doing since she got called up to the main roster,” Jon countered with a chuckle. “Just go talk to her. You know you want to.”

Josh glanced over his shoulders towards the area where Imani stood talking to Krystle. He studied her as she laughed at something Krystle said, her hands twisting her hair in a sloppy bun revealing her sweat drenched neck and chest. Jon was right - he did want to talk to Imani. Had been wanting to talk to her since it was revealed she was the newest member of the Smackdown commentary team. But he just couldn’t force himself to make the first move.

It had been a little over three months since the night they shared in Sefa and Krystle’s living room and things had not progressed the way he hoped. One moment they’re falling asleep together in Sefa and Krystle’s guest room, sharing kisses. Then the next morning he woke up alone, all traces of Imani gone. If it wasn’t for Sefa mean mugging him for hooking up with his girlfriend’s best friend on his “fuckin couch” and Krystle constantly teasing him about it as they rode to the airport, Josh would’ve thought that night was a dream. But it did happen and what he thought would be a step forward into getting to know Imani on a deeper level didn’t pan out the way he hoped. Josh couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t at least exchange numbers with her so he could keep in touch with her and link up with one another the next time he was in town. Hell he even tried a few times to reach out to her on Instagram. But his messages went unanswered and it became clear to him that despite the connection he thought they formed Imani didn’t want anything to do with him.

Nonetheless Josh didn’t have time to mope. For the first time in his career he was on top of the WWE landscape as a singles competitor, garnering deafening reactions from fans on a weekly basis. He was one of the company’s top merch sellers and was constantly booked and busy with various meet and greets and interviews. His career was thriving and he was so thankful to be in the position he was in. He quickly saw his free time dwindling away between handling his job duties and raising his sons while his popularity quickly skyrocketed.

The more he was featured, the more women started to desire him. Whether he was walking through the concourse and the crowd during his entrance, trying to check into his hotel after shows, or just trying to get a bite to eat when he was home women were constantly making a move on him in hopes of hooking up with the newest company heartthrob. And sure getting attention from so many women was an enormous ego boost and if he was younger he would’ve indulged in the perks of his newfound fame.

However, the man he was now simply didn’t find that enjoyable.

Josh attempted to use his packed schedule to distract him but there were times when he found himself thinking about how he had reached a point in his life where he craved something deeper than a meaningless hook up. Watching Jon and Sefa settle down with women they adored forced him to realize he wanted the same thing. He wanted somebody that he could be himself with. A woman that could relax him and take his mind off of work whenever they spent time together. Somebody that adored Joshua Fatu instead of being infatuated with Jey Uso. And although he did everything he could to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind he knew there was only one woman that fit that role.

Josh glanced back towards the area Imani and Krystle were to see that they were no longer there. With a sigh, he turned to face Jon and Sefa who by now were gathering their belongings to leave. He grabbed his own bag and slung the strap over his shoulder and followed his brothers out of the gym and to Sefa’s rental car. Once they were all inside Sefa pulled out of the parking lot to head to the hotel.

The car stopped at a red light and Josh sighed. “I’on even know what to say to her.”

Jon laughed as he focused on the text he was typing on his phone while he sat in the passenger seat. “So you mean to tell me you eat her pussy-”

“On my fuckin couch,” Sefa interjected with a scowl.

“And now you don’t know how to talk to her? Uce you turning shy on us?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “I ain’t say I’on know how to talk to her. I said I’on know what to say to her. It’s just…she’s just…like…” He trailed off and sighed again. “Like y’all know I fuckin like her. And after what happened that night I thought she was feelin’ me too. But now I’on know. It’s been months Uce and she ain’t respond to any of my messages. Hell she ain’t even approached me backstage since she came up. Maybe she don’t want shit to do with me,” Josh conceeded with a defeated shrug of his shoulders.

“Nah she likes you Uce,” Sefa replied from his seat. “Krys says it takes a lot for Imani to let somebody in. So if she went that far with you she’s definitely feelin you.”

“And have you even thought that maybe she don’t know what to say to you either Uce?” Jon added. “One moment you’re her best friend’s boyfriend's older brother. The next you’re face deep in her pussy. That’s a sharp ass turnaround.”

Josh hummed softly as the car pulled away from the stoplight. When he showed up to the restaurant that night the most he imagined was he would finally reveal the crush he had on Imani for the past year, a crush that formed the night he met her at Krys and Sefa’s housewarming party. Hell he didn’t even think he would’ve been lucky enough to get a kiss. But what occurred between the two of them that night was much better than what he imagined. The way Imani responded to their kisses and the way her body reacted as he feasted on her made him believe she liked him as much as he liked her. While the lack of communication from her made his confidence falter a bit he knew both of his brothers had a point.

“So any ideas on what I should do?” Josh asked, quickly glancing towards his brothers. This was unknown territory for him and he would be grateful for any advice they would have.

“Well I would suggest you stop being a bitch first off,” Jon stated. He chuckled as Josh leaned forward and punched him in the arm. “Seriously Uce. Just talk to Imani. The whole staring at her like a stalker isn’t going to help your case.”

“Don’t be too pushy and shit but let her know exactly what you want,” Sefa added. “But be sure she’s actually who you want and don’t play games with her. Because if you hurt her Krys will hurt you and I ain’t tryna get in the middle of that shit.”

Josh nodded as Sefa finally pulled into the hotel parking lot and parked in the first free space he saw. As the trio made their way towards their rooms to shower, Josh realized in order for him to get the one person he wanted, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

“You know Mani I have to commend you. You’re very talented.”

Imani stopped fluffing her curled hair and stared at Krystle’s reflection in the mirror.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Like I don’t know how you managed to avoid the man that gave you the best orgasm of your life despite working in the same company as him but somehow you’ve managed to do it. That’s real talent.”

“Shhhhh,” Imani hissed, her widened eyes darting around to see if anybody heard Krystle. “Keep your voice down!”

“Oh girl first of all ain’t nobody around to hear us. Secondly if they are they wouldn’t care. Everybody hook up with everybody in this company like it’s a season of Love Island. Hell look at me.”

“I don’t care if that’s a common occurrence Krys. I just don’t want nobody knowing my business. After all the hell you’ve given me these past few months I’m regretting that you know my business.”

Krystle laughed as she hopped off the stool she was sitting on. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You mad that I know your business but you had my boyfriend’s big brother eating your pussy in my living room on my fuckin couch? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

Imani groaned as she covered her face with her hands, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “I still can’t believe that happened. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Well if you mix liquor loosening you up plus being alone with your crush plus the fact that you had been celibate for the past year it was inevitable you were gonna combust both literally and figuratively,” Krystle explained with a wide grin.

Imani flipped Krystle the middle finger making the younger woman giggle again. “If anything I have you to blame for this shit even happening Krystle Washington.”

Krystle placed her hand on her chest and gasped. “What? Me?!”

“Yes you. Why the hell didn’t you tell me Josh liked me? And that he begged you to let him come to the dinner?”

Krystle’s lips curled into another sheepish grin. “I didn’t tell you because I knew if you heard it from me you would’ve thought I was making shit up or you would’ve tried to back out of the dinner. I’m just glad he finally told you so I could stop keeping the fuckin’ secret. Although you would’ve known if you were able to take a hint.”

Imani placed a hand on her hip and raised a brow. “Excuse me? What does that mean?”

“It means you’re so fuckin book smart but are oblivious to the most obvious signs when it comes to men. For some reason you’ve convinced yourself that you’re this basic forgettable plain jane and you’re not. You’re beautiful and charming and smart. Men ogle you all the time but when Josh sees you he’s damn near salivating. He’s always gawking at you when you talk. That night he made sure to always be near you at the restaurant and when we went back to our house,” Krystle explained. “And you would’ve remained clueless if he didn’t shove his tongue down your throat and up your pussy. But he finally grew some balls and made a move that I thought would at least lead y’all to the next step. Instead you’re avoiding him and refusing to talk to him.”

“I’m not avoi-”

“The moment you saw him at the gym today you sprinted out of there Mani. Quit playing.” Krystle walked in front of Imani and placed her hands on her shoulders. “C’mon now it’s me. Krys. Your best friend. Stop faking like I don’t know you and tell me what’s your problem.”

Imani bit the corner of her bottom lip as she fidgeted under Krystle’s watchful gaze, bouncing her weight from one leg and then the other. She shrugged. “I just figured it was a one night type of thing you know? Like we were both caught up in the moment and did what felt right at that time. But I didn’t want to delude myself into thinking it actually meant something. Not when he can get any woman he wants.”

Krystle shook her head with a laugh. “Like I said you are fuckin clueless. The way that man used to talk Sefa’s ear off about you before Sefa finally told me the truth proves he likes you past a one night stand. Do you know how long I tried to convince him to make a move on you? He constantly told me he would but would chicken out every fuckin time.”

Imani’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But why? He’s Jey Uso. He can have any woman he wants.”

“Yes Jey Uso can get any woman he wants. But Joshua Fatu wants you Imani,” Krystle said, emphasizing her statement with a poke to Imani’s chest. “Jey Uso is this outgoing life of the party type of character. But Josh is more reserved. He may not be a loner like Sefa but it takes a lot to warm up to people kinda like you. Y’all have similar temperaments and I think that’s why he is drawn to you. ”

“Really?”

Krystle nodded. “Also you kinda intimidate him. Sefa says for some reason Josh thinks he has to be this perfect guy to get your attention so he never felt he was in your league. By the time your birthday dinner came around I was so tired of him telling me he was gonna make a move and not do a damn thing. I almost didn’t let him come. But of course Sefa had to stick up for his brother and we know I can barely say no to him.”

“Oh trust me I know,” Imani said with a playful roll of her eyes making Krystle smack her lips.

“So I let him come to the dinner and like I predicted you two hit it off once you finally let your guard down. Now if only I can get you two to stop avoiding one another and talk some shit out.”

Imani shook her head. “Krys I don’t know. Like I hear what you’re saying but maybe too much time has passed. I’ve ignored all his DMs. I basically ignore him whenever we both are backstage. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and moved on.”

“How about you ask me instead of assumin’ shit?”

Imani's body stiffened at the sound of the familiar deep voice. She turned on her heel to see Josh standing behind her and Krystle. Imani’s eyes inadvertently dragged over his frame, his upper half covered in a cropped version of his newest merch shirt and grey sweatpants covering his lower body. Her gaze snapped back to his face and she felt her pulse quicken when she found him ogling her body as well, his tongue licking his bottom lip.

Krystle glanced between Imani and Josh and pursed her lips together to stifle the smile from breaking free. She grabbed her fanny pack she wore while running around preparing for the show from the table. “Wow would you look at the time? Lemme start getting ready for the show. Mani I’ll talk to you later.”

Before Imani could protest Krystle hastily made her exit leaving her alone with Josh. A shaky hand pushed an errant curl behind her ear as she silently tried to instruct her heartbeat to return to its normal beating rhythm. This was the first time they were face to face since that night at Krystle and Sefa’s house. And somehow he managed to look even sexier than he did that night.

It just wasn’t fuckin fair.

Imani parted her lips to speak when Josh reached forward and gently grabbed her wrist. Goosebumps pricked her skin as he silently led her away from the corridor that was now filling up with other WWE personnel and crew. The two eventually stepped inside an empty room. Josh flicked on the light as he closed the door and locked it. Imani subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself as she stood a great distance away from him, her mind screaming at her that it was not a good idea to be in such close proximity with him while her feet refused to move.

“Is that what you want?”

The question interrupted Imani’s thoughts. Her head jerked towards Josh. “Huh?”

“You want me to forget about that night and move onto the next woman? Is that what you want me to do Imani?”

Imani parted her lips to respond before closing them again. The question lingered in the air between the two before she exhaled softly and shook her head. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. But no, that’s not what I want.”

Relief flickered over Josh’s face as his shoulders fully relaxed. “So why you disappear the way you did? And why ain’t you replied to any of my DMs? And why you been avoidin me since you got called up?”

Imani’s head dropped in response to Josh’s questions. He had every right to ask them but that would mean she had to finally admit what she had tried to bury.

“I guess once I came back down to reality I realized how out of character that moment between us was for me. I'm not usually in those type of situations so I didn’t know how to behave afterwards. And I truly did want to stay until you woke up but I was worried how you would react. Part of me was hoping we could build off of that moment. But my logic told me that I shouldn’t get my hopes up. That what happened the night before didn't truly mean anything.”

Josh stepped closer to Imani. “It meant something to me. And I know it meant something to you too. Didn't it?"

Imani nodded. "It did."

"You know you coulda just talked to me ya know. Instead of letting yo'self second guess everything we coulda talked things out Mani."

“I know. But I fuckin panicked. I'm used to being the logical one. Calm. Collected. But with you I just short circuit and forget how to think," Imani said with a tense laugh.

“Ay I get it. I ain’t think it was gonna go as far as it did either. But there’s nothing to be ashamed about. We grown as hell and are attracted to each other. I don’t regret a fuckin thing that happened that night. Do you?”

Memories flooded Imani’s brain of that night: The way Josh’s lips perfectly molded with hers. How his touch set her skin aflame and plucked her in all the right places. The way his tongue made her back arch with desire before she was bombarded with the best orgasm she ever experienced. The way his doe like eyes glistened with adoration and desire when he looked at her afterwards. How perfect it felt to fall asleep in his arms.

Imani slowly shook her head. “No.”

Her eyes instinctively lifted to meet his and she inhaled a sudden breath when she saw how close Josh was to her, his chest pressing against hers lightly. Her body was barricaded between his muscular frame and the wall. His intense and unwavering gaze studied her face and his thumb gently traced her jawline causing a stuttered breath to flow from her mouth.

“I missed you.”

Without another word, Josh captured Imani’s lips in a heated kiss. She felt her resolve crumble like a pile of bricks on a demolished building as her arms immediately wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to her. Their lips moved together in tandem as Josh’s large hands grabbed Imani’s hips to hold her in place. Imani’s soft moan flowed through her parted lips allowing Josh’s tongue to slide into her mouth. The moment their tongues touched Josh’s deep groan filled the room, the sound making Imani dizzy with lust as she felt a familiar throb between her legs that was covered in the pink and white floral dress she wore.

The jarring sound of Imani’s phone alarm interrupted the moment. Imani begrudgingly sighed at the noise and detached her lips from Josh’s. “I have to go get my makeup done for the show tonight,” she stated quietly, silently wishing she had the courage to say fuck her responsibilities so she could continue making out with Josh.

Josh silently cursed as he quickly remembered they were indeed at work. He quickly pecked Imani’s lips before reluctantly pulling away. He grabbed her hand as he started walking her towards the door. “I would say we can continue this after the show but I gotta head straight to the airport after the show tonight. But I’ll be in Florida in a couple of weeks after I get back from this overseas tour. So lemme take you out.”

“Like out on a date?” Imani asked with a slight stutter.

Josh nodded. “Yeah like a date.”

“When? And where? And what time? And how should I-” Imani trailed off as Josh chuckled softly. She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “What’s so damn funny?”

“You are bae. Krys was right - you do like to be in control of everything don’t you?”

Imani rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to be in control. I just need to know more details so I can be better prepared. That’s all.”

Josh turned to face Imani and leaned against the door. Amusement twinkled in his stare as he looked at Imani before he reached forward and grabbed her arm gently to pull her body into his. A soft whimper fell from her full lips as her groin collided with his before he grabbed a handful of her ass and kissed her again. Imani’s smaller hands pressed against his chest to hold herself steady as she returned the kiss with as much intensity as she could muster. By the time they pulled away both of their lips were swollen and Josh’s eyes held a glazed over gleam while Imani’s chest heaved up and down with every breath she took.

“Just let me take charge this time bae. So what you say?”

Imani’s brain screeched at her that she needed more information and leaving all of the decision making to Josh would not bode well. However, her remaining thoughts quickly disappeared as she watched his eyes drag over her frame again as he simultaneously squeezed her ass.

“Ok. I’ll go out with you,” she agreed.

Josh smiled. “See how easy that was?” he asked. He laughed again when Imani playfully sucked her teeth.

Josh opened the door and glanced around the hallway. Once he determined the coast was clear, he pulled Imani out of the room. He wrapped her up in a tight hug and pecked her temple, inhaling the familiar citrusy floral perfume permeating in her hair.

“Just trust me. You won't regret it," Josh whispered into her hair. He pulled away and with one last look turned to sprint down the hallway towards the locker room while Imani stared at his retreating form, her fingers softly caressing her lips.

Tag List: @krysxtotheo @lisayourworries @whatdoeseverybodywant @vebner37 @amandairene88

#jey uso #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x oc #jey uso imagine #jey uso fic #jey uso x black oc #black oc

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saphronethaleph · 3 days ago

Text

Eyes Wide Shut

The demon fox’s paws crashed down on the stone, outside Konoha, and Obito’s Mangekyo spun as he prepared to place the fox under a genjutsu.

It was a necessary part of his plan. A vital part of his plan. To send the fox rampaging into Konoha to cause widespread devastation, devastation that would weaken the strongest of the villages and plant discord against the Uchiha… and, incidentally, make sure that that village wasn’t focused on trying to find a way through his potent technique to keep himself safe.

Then-

Obito’s thoughts skidded to a halt.

The fox’s eyes were closed.

“Hey!” he called. “Look over here, you dumb-”

“Not. A. Chance,” the fox replied, voice loud and booming. “I’m free for the first time in ninety years and I was paying attention, you think I’m going to look into the eye of another fucking Uchiha and let myself get caught right away?”

His tails slammed down on where Obito was, but fortunately intangibility meant that the tails didn’t actually mash him into jelly.

“Damn it!” the fox bellowed, then growled. “This is like dealing with Dad all over again… speaking of which, what the hell, humans? How grateful is it that you keep stuffing me into my distant relatives?”

Obito blinked, and barely remembered to stay incorporeal as the massive tails swept through his space again.

“I mean, seriously!” the demon shouted, in a voice which shook the Hokage monument, and ignored the explosion of a high-powered fire jutsu against his flank with a snort. “Dad stops Grandmother, preventing her from eating all the chakra in the world, leaves her body on the moon and splits her chakra into the nine of us… and what kind of thanks do we get? We get called demons! I remember when Kokuo told me, Kurama, they’re not that bad… not that bad? What do you call hunting down every single remaining Otsutsuki and shoving them into human containers?”

Apparently the fox had gone insane? Obito wasn’t even sure at this point. But it seemed as though the repeated multi-tail thrashings that… Kurama?… was giving the space around him were serving some form of catharsis, and that Kurama was more venting than anything, giving voice to nine decades of pent-up frustration.

“And if you’re listening, humans, think about how little you would like it!” Kurama added. “Having to listen to ninety years of someone else’s banal concerns, being completely involved with everything they ever do, and you’re pinned in place unable to look away! AND you feel all the emotions that they do, or all the horrible ones anyway… I even had to pay attention during those therapy sessions the Hatake brat had for killing that teammate of his! And that’s how I find out that she had Isobu in her as some kind of bomb?”

Obito felt a sharp spike of hatred for how that must have been Rin he was talking about – then that was immediately overwhelmed by confusion.

Sheer, total confusion.

Isobu?

“I thought Isobu was sealed into that twink of a Mizukage, but maybe I missed something,” Kurama added, thoughtfully.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He couldn’t mean that Rin had had the three-tails sealed into her?

But she’d been – she’d been trying to escape from Kiri-

Kiri had been under Madara’s thumb, and now it was under his thumb, they never could have-

he had to fulfil the plan-

Rin was-

the plan-

Then Obito realized he’d forgotten to stay intangible, when a tailtip the size of an apartment block smashed him into the side of the nearest cliff.

He certainly felt like he’d lost most of his torso, but that was fixable given his unique biology. He’d just have to do with not having a heart for a few seconds, until it got regenerated.

“FINALLY!” Kurama bellowed. “All right, now I’m fucking OFF. I hope to see Konoha never.”

The ground trembled as three hundred feet of giant fox went bounding off in the vague direction of north, and Obito shook his head slightly as his torso recovered.

Then frowned.

...why the hell had he been listening to a crazy, senile old man’s plan to hypnotize the entire planet, anyway?

It somehow seemed a lot easier to ask that question now.

#naruto #kurama #obito uchiha

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sylus-little-meow-meow · 3 days ago

Text

Another Drink: Part 2

Note: Caleb may be out of character. I don't know what I'm doing, but hey! It's entertaining for me to write so, yeah!

*********************************************

Unable to hold herself back, she ensures Felix’s back is turned before she reaches over the bar for a shiny bottle of liquor.

She knows he won't let her have another drink.

So she'll sneak one for herself.

He's stingy when it comes to the “annoying drunks.”

Not that she won't actually pay him after she's poured herself a glass, she just needs to sneak and down it first.

Her hand just manages to wrap around the neck of the bottle when she's slammed back into her seat with a harsh gravitational pull, her tail bone stinging at the force.

She glares over at Caleb accusingly.

Sylvia: Hey.

Caleb: Did you want me to whistle and get you kicked out for stealing?

Sylvia: I wasn't going to steal if I intended to pay for it immediately after Wing-Ding.

Caleb: You're taking property without permission. It's stealing by definition.

Sylvia: Someone's cranky now that I pressed on a sore spot. Your hunter girl leave you that high and dry that even the mention of her from someone else's lips—

She grunts as the force presses down harder on her.

Shit.

Her eyes skirt to Caleb.

Sylvia: Are you trying to actually kill me Wing-Ding?

Caleb: I wouldn't do it in a place as public as this.

Sylvia: But you would do it all the same.

The force on her body gets even worse and she sees the ground beneath the bar stool legs actually starting to splinter.

Fuck.

Sylvia: Fine. Fine.

Sylvia: I'll answer if you let up.

Unhinged bastard.

Sylus was a force of nature, but something about the man beside her was far more unsettling.

Getting that mad and willing to hurt someone over a former love?

He's probably an obsessive creep.

Or at least that's what she assumes.

Did that girl run to Sylus in part, not just out of love but for protection from a man who seemed like he would do anything to have her?

Even going as far as to hurt or kill?

She related to that so much harder than she ever cares to admit.

The scars that man left behind on not only her, but her sister's psyche were astronomical.

She shudders at the thought of this man being cut from the same cloth, pursuing someone who didn't want his “special form of love.”

Okay, maybe not so lucky. Bad call.

When the gravity lets up she rolls her shoulders.

She's still rattled, but tries not to show it, refusing to let her weaknesses show under a heavy veil of confidence.

Sylvia: Wow. Is that how you always go about making friends with strangers?

She tosses her long silver locks over a shoulder and bats her lashes at him, her tone entirely mocking because he's flat out ruined her night out.

When he remains quiet, she rolls her eyes.

Sylvia: I don't know why you're so adamant about why I care. What? Are you afraid I'll deliver a message back to her?

From his expression she barks out a laugh and slaps the counter top.

Felix's head whips in her direction and she waves him off.

Turning to Caleb, she crosses one leg over the other.

Sylvia: So she doesn't know about your obsessive love for her. Maybe I should tell her.

Sylvia: It doesn't hurt to warn a girl about disastrous men like you. Someone who could hurt her.

Then her eyes narrow into slits.

While this girl is Sylus’s “one true love” or whatever b.s.—safety of the girlie's was safety of the girlie's.

Sylvia had had no one to warn her about her ex.

No one told her of his deep rooted obsession and possessive nature until it became too late.

But she could tell this girl.

Sure.

Sylus could protect her and maybe she could even protect herself, but she still deserved to know there was a person who could cause her harm.

Even if unintentional.

Sylvia wouldn't let it happen to anyone else.

Not ever a-fucking-gain.

Caleb looks offended.

Caleb: I'd never do anything to hurt her. Everything I do or did is to protect her.

Sylvia: So you using gravitational force to get an answer out of me was to protect her? Don't kid yourself.

She sneers and this time she manages to swipe the bottle and pour a drink without the interruption of Caleb, slapping her money on the bar.

Sylvia downs her forth shot.

Much better.

Caleb: I already know all of that.

Sylvia: Do you? If so, you're clearly not interested in changing it.

Caleb: I do. But I won't change the fact about wanting to keep her safe no matter what.

Caleb: I've protected her since we were kids. She's my anchor.

Sylvia: Cool story, Wing-Ding. Really bringing a tear to my eye over here. Doesn't negate the fact that it still stems from obsession.

Sylvia: No matter how pretty you try framing something, the picture inside is always the same.

She goes to pour herself another glass when the shot is swiped from her.

Sylvia: Seriously?

Caleb: I think you've had enough.

He places the shot behind him with a purposeful thunk.

Sylvia: Oh so now you care about my safety.

She snorts. It's an indignant sound. Rare for her, but he's annoyed her far beyond caring about her image.

Sylvia: Where was that when you used your evol on me two seconds earlier?

He gives her a boy-next-door-smile that's so fake she resists the urge to roll her eyes skyward.

Caleb: What do you mean? I was just keeping a drunk patron from falling over on her bar stool for a third time in a row.

Holy shit.

She might choke a man by the end of the night.

Another Drink: Part 1

Note: Caleb might be slightly out of character (I have no idea what I'm doing.)

*********************************************************************

The bar feels just as restless as Sylvia does.

Maybe there's something off in the air tonight.

She eagerly waits for the bartender to slide over her drink and as soon as she aquires the shot, she's downing it before gesturing for another.

At her third shot she's starting to feel suuuuuuuuuuuper good.

Her limbs are loose and rubbery, her mind floating to distant places.

She squints and points to the drained glass of alcohol.

Sylvia: You are my new best friend.

She straightens and waves her arm.

Sylvia: Yoooooohooo! Bartender. Can I get another shot over here? I'm finding myself a little dry over here.

The bartender quirks a brow considering he's only standing two feet away from her.

It's then that someone enters the bar and takes the barstool beside her, his jacket catching her attention and the song “Highway to the danger zone” looping through her head on repeat.

Sylvia: Lemme guess. You fly airploo…airpine….airplanes!

She slaps the counter, sitting up with a quick jerk.

Sylvia: Fuck, yes I got it!

See? She wasn't that plastered if she could manage to say airplanes.

The man next to her startles, his eyes giving her a once over.

???: Oh, yeah. Something like that anyway. Hey. Are you okay?

Sylvia: I'm golden. Peachy, Mr. Wing-Ding.

She teeters on her stool but manages to right herself and gives the man a smile to which he returns with a concerned expression.

Bartender: Please ignore her. She's can get…rowdy when she's drunk and I already warned her that if she antagonizes any patrons like last time—

His eyes shoot over to Sylvia, giving her a meaningful look to which she returns with a drunk grin and wiggles her fingers.

Bartender: Then she'll find herself escorted out.

Sylvia: Hey, that elderly couple thought I was riveting.

Bartender: You were recommending anti-aging wrinkle cream to an 83 year old.

Sylvia leans forward and jabs a finger at the bartender.

Sylvia: Are you trying to say we should stop paying attention to skincare once we become elderly?

Bartender: No I'm saying you shouldn't give advice where it isn't warranted.

The man sitting next to Sylvia looks vaguely amused by the interaction, his eyes darting back and forth between them like a ping pong match.

???: I take it you two know each other well.

He takes the glass the bartender passed over and takes a small sip.

Bartender: Unfortunately since her ex dumped her, she's been a regular here.

Sylvia throws her hands up in the air.

Sylvia: I dumped him, thank you very much!

Bartender: If that were really true, why are you boo-hooing in here every other Tuesday, blubbering over how he didn't love you?

Sylvia: Okay, that was said in confidence for one and for two it's a lot more complicated that you're making it out to be.

Bartender: Save things you want said in confidence for a therapist.

He then reaches into his pocket and aggressively slides a therapist's card over to her.

Bartender: I'm just here to attend to your drinks, I'm not here to give you life advice.

Sylvia: Well, maybe I'll just take my business elsewhere and—

Her seat slides out from underneath her as she leans forward and her heart plunges into her stomach as she drops, her chin inches from hitting the counter when a sudden force stops her midway.

She blinks and looks at the counter.

Sylvia: Did you install a forcefield or something, Felix?

The bartender—a.k.a Felix—jabs a thumb towards the direction of the man bemusedly watching them.

Felix: No. You can thank Caleb, here.

She manages to right herself and needs help again when she almost falls backwards off of the barstool, Caleb's evol helping her not land on her ass.

Okay.

So maybe she is a little drunk.

Sylvia: Thanks, Wing-Ding.

She gives him a two fingered salute once she's straightened out.

Caleb: It's Caleb. Wing-Ding was my father's name.

He gives her a light hearted smile at the small joke before he nods to her shot glass.

Caleb: You should probably take it easy and get something to eat.

Sylvia: My liver can take it. It's made out of steel.

Caleb: Maybe, but if I'm not here next time the poor floor or counter will pay the price.

Caleb: Plus, think of the cleanup our friend, Felix over here will have to do.

Sylvia: Now you're just giving me more incentive.

Felix rolls his eyes.

Felix: I'm getting back to work. If she makes any trouble, just whistle.

He turns his back and then there's a sharp whistle to which Sylvia grins at him, flipping him the bird while he rolls his eyes in response and wanders over to a group of people.

Caleb: You two seem like you get along.

Sylvia: If getting along means him huffing and puffing every time I walk through the door, then sure.

She swirls a finger around the glass, leaning her elbow against the counter top as she side-eyes the man sitting next to her, noting that he's very much the boy next door that every girl falls for.

Surprising someone like him would come alone to a bar.

Sylvia: I don't want to make assumptions here, but I take it you've got your own heartbreak you're getting over?

Caleb pauses mid-drink, the ice chips clinking against the rim of the cup, his eyes traveling over to Sylvia before he slowly places his glass on the counter.

He's smiling.

But it's not particularly pleasant.

Caleb: What ever gave you that idea?

She shrugs a delicate shoulder.

Sylvia: A pretty boy walks into a bar…

Sylvia: And he distracts himself with the antics of a drunk while somberly sneaking peeks at his phone like he just wishes that special-someone would call him, but knows they won't.

Sylvia: I also saw her saved as your Screensaver.

Sylvia: I know her. I work with her. And she's also got a boyfriend.

Then she huffs out a laugh that's not particularly humorous.

Sylvia: Or should I say he's her soul mate?

Caleb: And what's it to you?

The pleasant “I'm just your cute boy-next-door” facade slips and she can tell he's agitated.

The girl’s no doubt a sore subject. She's special to him.

Something precious that a stranger brought up.

Lucky her that a plethora of men seem to care about her, meanwhile Sylvia couldn't even get just the one.

Fuck, I don't care. I need another drink.

#love and deepspace sylus #sylvia #caleb #lads caleb #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #sylus angst #lnds #fanfic

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my-current-obsession · 2 months ago

Text

every time i see bakudeku compared to k/ance (now specifically in terms of them getting shafted in the ending and/or accused of queerbaiting) i take psychic damage

#i am NOT tagging this one mainly because i don't want to bring down the fucking horde of klance shippers on my head #i was there. i was part of the fandom. and i STILL don't understand how or why THAT was the massive ship #y'all are clinging to something that stopped being relevant after SEASON ONE in an EIGHT SEASON LONG show #lance spent the ENTIRE series crushing on (and eventually fully falling in love with) allura #allura who slowly started to reciprocate. allurance CONTINUED to get ship tease EVEN as she fell for lotor #literally 85% of the significant klance moments/interactions were in the first season #i don't know how y'all kept clinging to a ship that gave you absolute scraps #as for keith. again i watched voltron myself. i even BRIEFLY shipped klance when the show first came out #because again - season one was GREAT for them. a strong foundation for a ship! but that foundation was NEVER built upon #then season two hit and i was quite happy to pivot to sheith which is where i remained until the ending #keith spent the entire show very devoted to shiro. you don't have to read it romantically but it's a hell of a lot easier to do so #than ever imagining he'd feel that way about lance after he just. basically stopped caring about him post s1 #meanwhile lance slowly let go of the (one-sided) rivalry and just focused more and more on allura #comparing klance and bakudeku feels like a fucking crime to me.#klance was a once-promising rivals to lovers arc that IMMEDIATELY fizzled out into them being kind of friends.#but specifically The Friends Who Never Hang Out kind. while both parties were lowkey obsessed with someone else.#this ship was NEVER going to happen when it became clear around s4-5 that the writers DID NOT CARE about it at all #(and they went on record saying they were surprised it was so huge!)#meanwhile until the trashfire epilogue bakudeku spent the ENTIRE series obsessed with each other #they were friends to enemies to rivals to friends with everyone HOPING they'd get a canonical 'to lovers' tacked on #they got the MOST development in the series individually and as a pair (platonically or otherwise)#THIS ship had legs and was only denied greatness because it was struck with the typical shounen homophobia curse #PLEASE stop comparing one of the greatest arcs and relationships (even if it stumbled at the finish line)...#that i have EVER seen... to That. to fucking... two bros chilling in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they're not gay)#(except keith MIGHT be. just not for lance. sorry not sorry.)

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avirael · 1 year ago

Text

How to hold a grudge (on behalf of someone else)

“Oh! Hello Rael!”

The audacity of this man!, was all Rael thought as they opened the door to their house and found Thancred standing on the other side. They felt horribly tempted to just slam the door right back shut into his stupidly grinning face.

Certainly they could say that it had just been one of these intrusive Lalafell who tried to sell their useless and overpriced goods to gullible people (like A’viloh) or one of their neighbours asking to borrow sugar again. Anyone who was not Thancred Waters.

What did he even want here? Had all of the women in Revenant’s Toll finally realised how much of a fraud he was and fled town? Or maybe they had chased him away with brooms and pitchforks. Yes, the later was absolutely Rael’s preferred explanation for his unwelcome presence here.

They still glowered at the man, trying really hard not to greet him with an insult, when A’vi returned from the kitchen. “Who’s there?”, he asked gloomily on his way back to the couch. Just as Thancred appeared in his field of view, the Hyur raised an arm and waved lightly. “Hello to you too, A’viloh.”

“Oh!”, the Miqo’te exclaimed surprised and almost dropped the bowl of ice cream he held in his hands. And there was that expression again, Rael noted in frustration. The same one he had made the last time they had visited the Rising Stones. It was a strange mix of feelings and Rael thought it difficult to find a fitting word for it. He looked like he had mistaken some dangerous animal for a harmless pet and was now horrified by the bloodshed it caused but still couldn’t stop himself from liking that creature anyway despite its nature. Maybe the comparison was unnecessarily gruesome but Rael just hoped that A’viloh was at least clever enough not to get himself torn to pieces by the metaphorical sharp teeth.

***

It wasn’t all that difficult to understand how the Viera got this rather extreme opinion about Thancred Waters. He had always had a certain reputation around Vesper Bay and Ul’dah, Rael had quickly learned as they had asked around about the Scions before choosing to work with them. On top of that the man hadn’t exactly left a good first impression when they had met in person for the first time. Maybe he had honestly just been curious about meeting a Viera for the first time but Rael had already heard a few pretty stupid pick-up lines during their journey and this man had seemed right in line with that. A raised eyebrow and disgusted look on their face at least had quickly disheartened him to try any further.

But then there was A’viloh! Kind, yet so self-sabotaging A’viloh! Rael had long stopped wondering what it was that he found interesting about Thancred and instead decided to just blame it on a severe case of mental confusion. They had warned him about Thancred back when A'viloh had told them about the invitation but it really wasn’t their place to tell A’vi what to do or, in this case, not to do. So at first the Viera had simply intended for him to either be clever (which seemed unlikely) or learn that lesson on his own and the hard way if necessary. But this had been many months ago and in the meantime a lot had happened. By now the idea that the poor Miqo’te could get his feelings hurt by that vile man was giving Rael a headache.

Sure, Rael occasionally liked to tease him about the way he acted around Thancred and at first all of his infatuation had almost seemed to Rael like a good sign, but that assessment had changed shortly after. Finally Rael had managed to convince A’viloh that it would be a good idea to return to the Rising Stones and speak to Thancred about how the Miqo’te felt responsible for what had happened to him (and only about that, mind you!) but in the meantime Thancred had seemingly recovered very well and immediately reverted back to his old ways. Just worse. Both, concerning the quantity of alcohol and women.

In a surprisingly short span of time Thancred had managed to be seen with more women than Rael could count on their fingers, some of them just shamelessly flirting with but enough of them in more or less obvious situations. And that were just the ones he had no qualms to be seen with, Rael assumed. It was unnecessary to mention that A’viloh’s resolution to speak to him had died down abruptly.

Rael had observed this tragedy for as long and as peacefully as they could tolerate. They hadn’t wanted to interfere in something that actually wasn’t any of their business, so they had hoped that A’vi would soon get angry enough to stop moping. But they should have known that anger wasn’t exactly one of A’vi’s standard solutions for his problem and so of course it only seemed to get worse over time. Rael on the other hand had quickly developed a habit of getting angry on his behalf, to their own frustration.

One day Rael was speaking with Papalymo and Y'shtola about a book they were studying, when they noticed A'viloh gloomily staring down the counter of F‘lhaminn’s bar. After a moment F‘lhaminn, like the good barkeep she was, put a glass of liquor in front of him, raised an eyebrow and expected him to talk.

“What’s up with you?” she asked but A’viloh just grimaced and nodded to the glass in front of him. “That’s not a good idea. Alcohol and me don’t seem to go so well together.”

F‘lhlaminn had chuckled and made a peculiar face. “Oh, just like Thancred I guess…”, she said leaving it up to his interpretation if she meant alcohol and Thancred or him and Thancred, while she eyed him for a reaction.

A desperate sigh was all she got for an answer, but that was more than enough.

“Ha! So I rightfully thought this was about him. You know, I saw you eyeing him and Higiri…”

Avi snapped to attention, ears going up, face turning red. “What?! That ain’t true! Why would I??”

“If you say so…”, F’lhaminn chuckled again and returned her attention to the glass she was cleaning.

Seemingly unaware of the fact that he was proving her right, A’vi turned his head the other way and kept on sadly watching Thancred flirt with one of the doman girls from afar.

At that point Rael had decided to do something and stepped closer. “If you don't stop looking like this, I will go over there and I will punch him in his stupid face.”, they annouced sitting down beside A'vi.

Startled the Miqo’te turned around. “What?”

“It’s excuse me!”, Rael corrected and then repeated their words. “I said I am going to punch him in the face if you don’t!”

A’viloh was either truly unaware about his lovesick staring or had decided to play very very dumb. “Who?”

“Please! Don’t pretend to be more stupid than you actually are. Thancred of course!”, the Viera grumbled.

A’viloh still pretended to be oblivious. “Why should you do that??”

“You know why!”, sternly Rael glowered at him and finally the Miqo’te gave up this charade. “Alright! Fine! But how is he supposed to know that it bothers me?”, he retorted and Rael seriously wondered if he was this oblivious about how he was behaving.

“By the Twelve, A’vi!”, they exclaimed, a saying they had quickly picked up along with another few curses. “He can’t have that much brain damage to not notice that! Everybody in this building must by now have noticed that you are in love with him. I wouldn’t even be surprised if everybody in this whole town knows!”

A’viloh wanted to object at first but quickly gave up.. “I am not-... No… Please! Don’t tell me it is really that obvious?”

Rael rolled their eyes and slightly shook their head. “No, don’t worry! You just longingly stare at him every chance you get and sigh sadly every time he talks to someone. I guess your secret is safe!”

“That’s not funny…”, he muttered quietly with drooping ears. Rael just shrugged. It was only the truth.

Then A’vi added: “The idea that someone like Rowena knows something like that is kinda scary…”

“Careful! She’ll find a way to make money out of that. Blackmail or something…”, Rael couldn’t help but tease. At least the Miqo’te spent the rest of the day brooding over something that wasn’t Thancred Waters.

But then a few days later Rael had reached the point where they had enough.

One late afternoon they had found A’vi picking at his food while once again staring across the room, where Thancred sat at the bar with one arm around the shoulders of an annoyingly giggling Miqo’te girl. It was painful to watch, both Thancred and his conquest being so obliviously obnoxious as well as A’viloh’s reaction to it, but apart from this it was mostly infuriating. Rael wasn’t even sure who they wanted to yell at the most. So after wordlessly watching for a minute or another they lost their temper and growled at A’viloh.

“Are you mad!? You can’t seriously tell me that this -“, they hissed, silently enough not to catch any attention, gesturing towards the bar. “THIS is what you want? To be stupid! And replaceable! And forgotten before morning!?”

Slightly shocked A’viloh had stared at them for a moment, like he just realised it was the truth, before he wordlessly shook his head and sighed. It wasn’t fair that Rael had lashed out at him, they knew that, but seemingly he needed someone to tell him how ridiculous all of this was. Nonetheless he still looked sad of course, so this time it had been Rael, who had decided to take A’viloh and flee as far away as possible, seeking refuge in their house near Limsa again.

Of course this wouldn’t solve anything and they couldn’t avoid that bastard forever, but there was nothing else Rael could do about it. (Unless you counted maiming or murder a reasonable approach of course.) They simply hoped that A’viloh would soon come to his senses and realise how stupid it was to care about someone as ruthless as Thancred Waters.

***

And now this impossible man had the nerve to show up at their door! Obliviously grinning at that! They really wanted to strangle him. “What are you doing here, Thancred?”, they asked with a way too sweet tone and a strained smile, that somehow looked threatening.

“Ah! Very good question!”, he answered and laughed obliviously. “The two of you haven’t shown me your house yet! So I thought I‘d visit and see for myself!”

The carefully put together smile on Rael’s face faded as quickly as it had appeared. There was no way they would be able to remain friendly towards him even one second longer. “Well, now that you‘ve seen it, why don’t you go and—”

A’viloh, who until then was silently observing the contents of his ice cream bowl in concentration, at once snapped to attention. Alarmed he stared at the Viera while loudly proclaiming. “That’s so nice of you! Why don’t you come in first and we‘ll get you something to drink?”

He left it to Thancred to let himself in and instead grabbed Rael‘s arm to pull them into the kitchen.

“You can’t say something like this, Rael!”, he argued quietly.

“I can’t say what?”, they raised their eyebrows and didn’t bother very much to speak quietly. What bothered them though, was that A‘viloh still was so disgustingly friendly to him. Rael had thought he had understood by now, that on this man all kindness was wasted. “That, for all I care about, he can go and fuck himself?”

“Rael!”, A’viloh hissed and nervously eyed the door.

“Why?”, they simply retorted angrily, while picking up the bowl A’vi had put down on the counter and putting a light ice spell on it. They would rather have put that spell elsewhere.

“Because it‘s rude!”, the Miqo’te exclaimed. „Also, I don‘t think that would be very accurate to say considering… you know…”

“Please!”, Rael interrupted. “It’s very appalling how much thought you seem to have spared to that topic!”

A’viloh gasped. “What?! You started this! I didn’t!”

So much for gratitude!, Rael thought as they opened their mouth to retort something maybe a little bit too snarky. But just in that moment Thancred’s voice echoed from the living rooms. “You two have such a wonderful house. I already thought the garden was beautiful but in here? What a pretty place!”, he said as he pranced into the kitchen and confidently leaned onto the counter like he owned the whole place. To Thancred’s luck and Rael’s disappointment the knife block was out of the Viera‘s reach.

“Thank you…”, A‘viloh answered while still keeping an eye on Rael. The Hyur looked at them innocently smiling as if he didn’t notice at all in what a dangerous situation he had put himself. Nonchalantly he looked around and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But don’t you think something is missing?”

“Missing??”, Rael echoed and wondered if they should break his nose and see if some of his own blood on the kitchen tiles would suit his taste more. But no! That would just give A‘viloh an opportunity to get unnecessarily worried about him again…

“What do you mean, missing?”, A‘vi asked confused and let his gaze wander through the room as well.

Thancred shrugged. “I don’t know, just a feeling… Are you already completely done with the house or is there anything left you wanted to do?”

“We are more or less done.”, replied the Miqo’te and then added. “Well, Rael still wanted a proper work desk but we didn’t have time for that yet. And maybe something to sit down in the garden or an orchestrion but that would be too much work I‘m afraid…”

Thancred nodded. “Mh, that’s a shame! I think some music would make this place even more cozy…”

(If by cozy he meant the untidy chaos A’viloh had turned their house into these last few days…)

“Right?”, the Miqo’te agreed excitedly. It was disgusting.

Rael had enough of this nonsense. They knew that it would get ugly if they had to hear only a single more word of this conversation. But just as they were about to leave with an inappropriate remark, telling themselves not to care about Thancred being a horrible person and A’viloh being an idiot, all of their linkpearls started to chime at once.

Surprised they stared at each other and then answered the call more or less simultaneously. Minfilia was on the other end of the connection asking if they all could come to the Rising Stones. Then she shortly explained that there had been new information and that all of them were to meet as soon as possible to plan their next move.

Her tone had been serious and all of them knew that this could only either mean one threat or another. While Rael went to the living room table to pick up their grimoire from beneath a heap of papers, Thancred excused himself saying that he would check a few of his own sources before meeting them later.

Rael threw a few things into a bag and went upstairs to change clothes. When they returned some minutes later A’viloh was wandering through the living room with a puzzled expression on his face, ice cream bowl in one hand (of course he wouldn’t let that go to waste!) and lifting the sofa cushions one by one with the other.

Rael sighed. “What are you doing??”

“Please tell me you’ve seen any of my weapons somewhere…”

#final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv writing #ff14 screenshots #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv gpose #gpose #Aviloh Tia #Rael Hyskaris #Thancred Waters #I'm terribly sorry I wrote 2500 words just about this! :D #This was going to be something else entirely at first and all that remained of it is Rael being angry af xD #The whole thing seems a little pointless now and I proof-read it a dozen times to fix the bits I dont like but its not getting any better..#they are all a little too exaggerated here I'm afraid... but maybe that's just the way Rael sees things xD #but at least I can imagine Minfilia sending her master-spy to their house to sneakily find out what to get them for their birthday! :D #I should write something about heavensward instead!#or finally decide what I want to do with the end of the ARR patches!#Technically less *what* I want to do and more if I dare to do what I had in mind ;D #ARR

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mssorceressupreme · 25 days ago

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Under Your Control

———

Pairing: In ho x reader

Summary: you wake up almost bare one night, away from the other players, tried to someone’s bed in an all too luxurious bedroom.

only to discover that the person you loved, young-il was the frontman and he would stop at nothing to gain information out of you.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dom!inho, sub!reader, non-con touch, age gap, oral f!receiving, fingering, hickeys, use of ropes/tied up, betrayal, stripping, toxic relationship, orgasm denial

———

The first thing you noticed was the softness beneath you—luxurious sheets that felt entirely foreign after the cold, hard floor of the hall. Blinking awake, your arms tugged instinctively, only to be met with resistance. Your wrists were tied to the bedposts, the smooth silk of the restraints deceptively gentle against your skin but firm enough to hold you in place. Panic bubbled in your chest as your eyes darted around the room.

It wasn’t like anywhere else you’d seen in this nightmare of a game. The room was extravagant, draped in rich fabrics and gilded accents, a far cry from the stark, utilitarian halls where the other players remained. The flickering light from a crystal chandelier above cast shifting shadows on the walls, adding to the eerie stillness.

“Where… where am I?” you murmured, your voice trembling. The silence pressed against you, broken only by the distant hum of machinery. You tugged harder against the restraints, your breath quickening. “Let me go!” you called out to no one in particular.

A creak at the far end of the room made your head snap toward the sound. A figure stepped into view, cloaked in black, their face hidden behind the sleek, metallic mask that sent chills through you. The mask’s emotionless design contrasted cruelly with the humanity you desperately searched for.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your voice rising despite the fear knotting in your throat. “Where am I? What’s going on?” You struggled against the restraints, the silk cutting slightly into your wrists.

The figure tilted their head, the movement slow, calculated. They took a step closer, then another, the weight of their presence suffocating. Finally, their gloved hand reached up, gripping the edge of the mask.

Time seemed to slow as they pulled it off, revealing a face you knew all too well.

“Young-il?” you breathed, disbelief flooding every syllable. Your heart twisted painfully, as though the air had been stolen from your lungs.

He smirked, the expression sharp, almost cruel, and yet it sent an unwelcome flutter through your chest. “Surprised, angel?” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey laced with poison.

The nickname, one he’d used during the games, felt like a blade twisting in your heart. It was a cruel reminder of who you thought he was—the ally who had stood by your side, shared quiet moments of understanding, and made you feel safe.

And yet here he was, towering over you, not as a fellow player but as something far more sinister.

“You…” Your voice cracked as you stared at him, your emotions tangling into a knot of betrayal and heartbreak. “You lied to us. To me. You’re one of them.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a mockery of all the warmth you once thought he possessed. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said, his tone playful but undercut with a dangerous edge. “I was doing what I had to. We all are.”

Your lip trembled, but you set your jaw, glaring at him even as your chest ached. “I trusted you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “...I loved you.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, a flicker of something softer passing through his eyes. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same icy exterior. He moved closer after taking off his coat to reveal a black tight fitted shirt underneath.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he hovered over your tied-up vulnerable body, both his legs on either side of your hips.

“I’m not here to talk about feelings, Y/N,” he said, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed against your cheek. “I need information.”

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His hand cupped your jaw, gently but firmly turning your face back to him. The touch sent a jolt through you, confusing and unwelcome. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, his voice a quiet warning. “I know you’re close to Gi-hun. He trusts you. Now, tell me about that plan he told you.”

“No,” you said, the word shaking but resolute. “I won’t betray him. I won’t betray them.”

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Oh, angel,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

Before you could protest, his lips captured yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It was unexpected, overwhelming, and despite everything, it ignited something in you that you couldn’t suppress. Your resolve wavered as his hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

When he pulled away, you were left reeling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. “Now,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding, “tell me.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from speaking. He tilted his head, his eyes scanning your body up and down, beneath him. He then caressed the side of your upper body, his hand making his way to your jacket zipper.

Shit, you weren't wearing a bra underneath today, nor a shirt, because it was supposedly bedtime. Slowly, he undid your zipper, exposing your cloth-less skin. "No bra?"

You laid beneath him shaking your head slightly, now bare, even more vulnerable.

"Look at you, so fucking pretty..." He then leaned in, "I might have to be rough if you don't tell me what I want..." He cooed, almost mockingly. His lips ghosting over yours, teasing, before pressing another kiss to them, sucking lightly. This time, your body betrayed you entirely, melting into him despite the storm of emotions crashing within you. Straightening himself up, he pulled your pants down while still hovering over you, leaving you in your undies. He pressed his thumb to your throbbing clit, with pressure before slowly stroking your folds over the fabric of your undies.

“Stop,” you whispered, though the word lacked conviction. “Please...” Yet, he continued, slipping two fingers inside your undies before stroking your folds again. You tried to resist his touch, you hated this, you hated him for betraying you guys. But your body felt differently. Trying to resist the pleasure, you forced yourself to not react, however, your body kept twitching under his touch and from all the pleasure building up.

“Then talk,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a velvet threat.

The push and pull was too much. Your heart warred with your mind, your love for him tangling with the sharp sting of his betrayal. "I won't." You spat, and he responded by inserting two fingers harshly inside you. You moaned, tilting your head back, panting heavily as he began pumping in and out of you. "Stop..." You pleaded, whimpering as he picked up his pace. Your breathing was heavy, gosh, he managed to make you feel so good, you were like putty under his control. "You tell me to stop, yet your body tells me otherwise...." His voice was low, sensual, "...so fucking wet for me..."

You felt your climax near approaching, your heartbeat quickening, you were close. "Young-il..." You plead, once more. "I'm gonna....I'm getting close..." Barely a whisper came out, your eyes shut tightly, body melting under his touch. "I'm gonna cum..."

He continued, pumping deeper and faster, and your climax was getting close and closer until...

He pulled his fingers out.

"Don't stop please..." You begged, "please Young-il I need you..." You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so needy, begging for more. No matter how mad you were, a part of you still wanted him. He smirked, seeing how needy you were for him which also fuelled his own desire. His bulge was evident, pressing against your thigh.

Young-il stroked your cheeks softly, "Oh Y/N, you'll get what you want...once you tell me his plan."

"I already told you I won't." You retort. "Such a stubborn, pretty mouth, hm?" He gazed into your eyes, filled with lust. He wanted you so bad, he'd do anything to make his name fall from your pretty mouth again.

He bent down, planting sloppy kisses on your collarbone down to your stomach. Sucking harshly till he left a bruise, "You'll look even more gorgeous with my marks all over you." Shifting down, Young-il moved closer to your cunt, making eye contact while he licked your folds.

"Young-il..." You moaned, body involuntarily arching, bucking your hips up into his face. Placing his hands on the velvety part of your inner thighs, he parted your legs wider before leaning in again to place kitten licks on your cunt.

"You taste so good angel..." He murmured into you.

He made sure to suck on your clit, with extra pressure, licking between the folds, slowly but sensually. "Young-il please..." You whimpered.

He pulled away slightly, "You want me to let you cum?"

"Please..." You begged, breathing heavily.

"Please what?" He retorted, "Use your words beautiful."

"Please make me cum..." You whined, before he continued, licking your whole slit, your became wetter by the second, body begging for more.

"The plan." He demanded you to tell him, "Now." Before pulling away again.

You groaned, wanting more, needing more. Your body so close filled with arousal, yet so far from a climax.

He leaned down once more, sucking on your clit again.

"The guards!-" You cried aloud, overwhelmed with pleasure. "An attack at midnight..." You moaned softly.

"Anything else?" Young-il smirked, knowing the control he had over you. "That's Gi-hun's plan...attack management at midnight when they've assumed we're asleep." You blurt out, which you immediately regretted. You told him what he wanted to know—about Gi-hun’s plan, the uprising, the desperate hope for freedom. Satisfied, Young-il sucked harder, licking every inch of your cunt with fervour. You moaned loudly, panting heavily as you came closer to a climax.

"I'm so close...gonna cum..." You arched your back further, "I'm gonna..." Then it washed over you, your body jerking harshly as it filled with pleasure. Your walls throbbed, and you felt a rush to your core; you let out a moan, hands tangling in Young-il's hair as you came.

When you finished, he pulled back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He reached out, brushing a hair from your face with a gentleness that felt like a cruel mockery. “Good girl,” he said softly.

You turned your face away, tears slipping silently down your cheeks as guilt and shame consumed you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, "See that wasn't so hard was it." Young-il zipped up your jacket and helped you put on your track pants but still leaving you tied up.

He stood up, getting off the bed, “Not a word of this to anyone,” he said, his voice cold and unfeeling once more. “If you do, they’ll die. Every last one of them.”

You nodded, unable to speak. "Sleep here for tonight, the bed is more comfortable." He spoke while putting on his jacket, "When you wake up tomorrow, you'll be back in the hall with the others. I'll see you there angel." He winked, placing the mask back over his face before walking away.

Your body tremlbed as the door closed behind him.

Despite everything, your heart still ached for him. And that, more than anything, was the cruelest twist of all.

#squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game smut #inho x reader #frontman x reader #hwang inho #young il x reader #player 001 x reader #player 001 #young il #hwang in ho x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfiction #front man x reader #front man #gi hun #squid game #squid game s2 #imagine

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fandommothfreak · 1 day ago

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Things I'd originally put in the tags plus other stuff that I want to add to the actual post:

Duke is incredibly frustrated by Tom Bombadil because he's a mystery that Duke can't solve. Jason argues that Tom Bombadil isn't supposed to be solved. Their arguing leads to the development of multiple, incredibly extensive Tom Bombadil murder boards that no one else in the family comments on, because Duke can go on about this shit for hours, and as soon as you get him going, Jason will materialize and cause problems.

Jason resonates a lot more with the movie ending than he did with the book ending. Something about the life-changing journey ending at a home that remains entirely unchanged just hits him harder than the Scouring of the Shire. He absolutely cries when Samwise gets welcomed home by his family, and Duke doesn't give him any shit for it, just bumps shoulders with him.

Jason keeps trying to get Duke to read the Silmarillion and Beren and Lúthien and Duke is not having it. "But you said Beren and whatever is already in the other one!" "That's just one version! You need to read all of them for the full experience!" "NO!" "YES!"

Duke ends up reading them all anyway because Jason is an asshole who guilts him into it by running around outside in the rain for days and getting sick on purpose and then refusing to come inside until Duke proves he read the first chapter of both.

Duke gets Jason back by pretending to have a panic attack and instead locking him in the panic room and refusing to let him out until he watches the Soviet version of LOTR in its entirety. This turns into a competition to see who can find the most cursed Tolkien-inspired media adaptations, and they both succeed in psychologically traumatizing each other as well as themselves. Bruce eventually has to intervene when they go missing for like 36 hours straight only to be found in a fucking cult meeting in Poland because apparently the cult leader uses a magic puppet version of the Roverandom to brainwash people and Duke refused to lose to the mutated corn orcs from the last cult.

Every Tolkien poem Duke reads is a poem he overanalyzes to hell and back. Same for Jason and any piece of literature that makes him feel something. Duke likes patterns and puzzles - figuring out the author's intention and how they go about fulfilling that intention. Jason is more Death of the Author - finding his own interpretations under the layers of meaning. Put these two in a room together, give them a topic, and in under an hour they'll have half a thesis and thousands of words worth of fan fiction. And another murder board.

On Jason's third rewatch of Return of the King: "For Frodo." "AND SAMWISE YOU FUCKING BITCH."

I think movie buff Duke Thomas should force Jason to watch the LOTR movies and literature nerd Jason Todd should force Duke to read the books.

They should make a movie night out of it and then a weekly book club that's really just Jason periodically hacking comms during Duke's patrol so he can yell at him to finish each chapter like a deranged English teacher that follows you around at work. And then they should get into heated arguments about Tom Bombadil; and Duke should get really invested in overanalyzing all the poetry in the book trilogy; and Jason should rewatch all three movies like seven times at least so he can scribble thoughts into the margins of his paperback copies, write dissertations in his head about the effectiveness of different story changes, and cry at Sam's "But I can carry you!" without having to stop reading.

And then they should repeat all of this with The Hobbit. They're both a little psychotic about it and the rest of the family is tired.

#genuinely I need more of this duo bringing absolute chaos but also being total nerds about it #duke thomas #signal dc #signal #dc signal #jason todd #red hood #batfam #batfamily #batfam shenanigans #batman #edited because I wanted to talk about the differences in how duke and jason might analyze a literary work

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captain-huggy-bear · 22 days ago

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The Collection

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You keep every single puck that Quinn has ever given you, he finds your collection that you've been shyly hiding away. It might just be the thing that makes him realise you're the girl he's going to marry.

Notes: I just want a boyfriend who'll give me a puck from every one of his games, is that too much to ask?

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It starts quite simply enough with an ice hockey game, like most things did with Quinn Hughes. The two of you had known each other for a while, acquaintances through Kiefer, acquaintances who then had become somewhat friends, but by no means were you close. That had changed one afternoon when Quinn had asked if you'd come to watch him play, not watch the team, not watch Kiefer, but watch him. This had seemed quite the clear hint that he was interested, or at least Quinn had considered this a neon flashing sign telling you he was interested. He considered this him shooting his shot.

It later transpired that Quinn considered this your first date, despite the fact he was on the ice and you were beside the penalty box, and that he'd not mentioned once the word date to you, but that's a story for another time.

The important part of this first-date-that-didn't-seem-like-a-first-date was not just that it set in motion your changing relationship status from somewhat friends to boyfriend and girlfriend, but that it was the first time Quinn Hughes ever gave you a puck. Something which to many would seem inconsequential. People got hockey pucks every day, every game. Thousands of fans owned pucks from hockey games, in that sense you were not particularly special.

It had felt so silly, and so girlish at the time, to be excited over an ice hockey puck of all things just because Quinn had tipped it over the glass to you specifically. And it had been for you, the glare he'd sent to those around you who even looked like they might snatch it had been lethal. It had felt even sillier to take that puck, cradle it the entire game, squirrel it all the way home only to write the date and a simple sentence on it in metallic gold pen, 'Quinn asked me to his game'. You're not entirely sure what had possessed you to do it, why it felt like something you needed to record. It had felt so...silly to do but you'd been unable to resist.

You'd squirrelled the puck away in a box in the back of your closet, out of sight of prying eyes, but it hadn't been forgotten by you. In fact, it was seen every single time you went to one of Quinn's games. After each game you'd inevitably come back with a new puck, another one to add to the collection of pucks that you were growing. At first the number was relatively slow to grow, you didn't go to every game, not during the weird stage where Quinn had yet to outright ask you out and you, oblivious as ever didn't realise he'd been trying for weeks.

As Quinn and you began officially dating you found yourself constantly receiving pucks, every game you went to he had a puck for you and at the end of the night you'd write the date and a simple sentence on it of something that had happened that night, something significant in your relationship or simply something significant to you even if it didn't seem significant to anyone else.

Still, the box remained hidden in the back of your closet, something you almost felt too shy to share. Even now that Quinn and you were in a relationship, even now 2 years down the line when he'd asked you to move in with him once your lease was up, it still felt scary to share it. Realistically you knew Quinn wouldn't be put off by it, the sort of sentimental person he was, he'd likely love it. That didn't stop the irrational fear. Especially given how personal some of the pucks were to you. It just felt embarrassing like showing him your blog from when you were thirteen or sharing a sketchbook from when you were twelve.

Moving apartments had been as simple as moving apartments could get, which is to say not simple in the slightest. Moving your things into Quinn's place had felt a little like playing Tetris, trying to find spaces for all your books and knickknacks without completely taking over his space. Trying to find a balance between his things and yours. In that chaos you'd managed to sneak your box of pucks in and to the back of your section of closet, a, in your opinion, perfect hiding spot.

It was not in fact a perfect hiding spot. Perhaps you were naive to think that Quinn wouldn't ever find them even when you shared such close quarters? Or perhaps you'd simply been avoiding the reality, trying to forget about it except in those few moments when you got home from a game before him and rushed to write on your puck and throw it into the box along with its brethren.

Either way, whether naivety or a desire to avoid the issue, it didn't stop you from finding him in that moment sat on the floor of your shared bedroom, looking incredibly cozy in a big hoodie and sweatpants, but pawing through your box that lay in front of him. The cardboard worn and battered from years of use.

"What are doing?" You knew exactly what he was doing, you could see two years worth of pucks piled high in front of him, one currently being turned over in his hands, but the panic seemingly made your brain stop working. Processing the scene felt impossible, you could see what was happening but couldn't quite comprehend it. Quinn was careful with the pucks, almost reverent as he put the one he was currently holding off to the side and reached for another, reading whatever you'd written on it.

"You kept them?" Quinn's voice is quiet, soft, an almost whisper that has you stepping further into the room even as you twist your fingers together nervous of his reaction.

"How...how did you find them?" Perhaps it was silly to think you could keep them hidden, after all you couldn't exactly claim you'd hidden them in some elaborate or overly complicated fashion. They were simply in a ratty old cardboard box in the very back of your half of the closet. It's not like you'd hidden them in some secret compartment.

"I was looking for my ugly Christmas jumper for the party on Sunday...didn't realise you'd kept them all. Why'd you hide them?" He smiles up and over at you from his spot, looking boyish and sweet even as you internally panic about the discovery he's made.

"I...I just...it's embarrassing." You shuffle nearer even as you say it, seeking his reassurance without quite truly realising it. When you're within reach of him, Quinn tugs on your hand to pull you closer from his position on the floor, cross legged and leaning back against the side of the bed.

"Baby, it's not embarrassing, it's sweet...you kept every puck I've ever given you. That's...I love that. C'mere." He tugs you down to the ground, until you're sitting side by the side with him and he can wrap an arm around you. He's warm and smells like the laundry detergent you use, it's calming, reassuring even as you still feel that rush of embarrassment at being found out.

Quinn reaches for a puck he'd put off to the side, it's worn and tarnished, dents from being hit across the ice during warm ups marring it, the logos of Seattle and Vancouver hidden underneath your writing in gold metallic pen.

"See, look, this is the puck I gave you on the day we had our first kiss." You'd written across the front 'Quinn kissed me today!!!!!!!!!' followed by more exclamation marks than was reasonable for anyone to use. You could remember the game clearly, Quinn had asked you to come along, you'd still not quite realised that he was trying to date you and your obliviousness had set a fire underneath him. He'd been so fed up that he'd forgotten what subtlety was. After a hard fought win, he'd rushed towards you in the corridor by the locker room and kissed you in front of half his teammates, all of whom had decided that was a great time to cheer and whistle like they were at a football game. You'd been surprised by it, taken aback, needing a few moments to process before returning the kiss, but you hadn't been unhappy with the sudden turn of events that had you practically unable to form words afterwards.

Quinn's careful as he puts it back before reaching for another puck, rooting around in the box before he pulls out one with the Canuck's orca emblazoned across it. Quinn takes a moment to read it before practically beaming over at you, eyes bright and excited.

"This one is from the game where I took you on the ice after and taught you how to skate," The puck had a creative attempt at drawing yourself and Quinn in ice skates, stick figure form of course, 'Quinn tried to teach me to skate after the game.'

"You mean you tried to teach me how to skate...last I remember I'm still not great..." You tap a nail against the 'tried' in your handwriting and Quinn just grins at you, any lasting embarrassment has started to disappear, and instead you're left with a sense of warmth. That you have all these memories to look back on, moments you might have forgotten about otherwise.

"You're just a work in progress, baby, you can stay upright...most of the time..." You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes as he teases you. It was a well known fact that you were nowhere near as graceful as Quinn was on the ice, having never really ice skated as a child.

You reach into the pile and pick another puck out, a pride night one, reading the caption quickly and very much deciding that this is one Quinn doesn't need to see, "Oh, not, you're not reading this one!"

"Give it here!" You reach away from him, arm as straight as you can get it to hold the puck as far from him as possible. Naturally, it does very little, Quinn and his long arms simply lean over you and pluck the puck from your grip with ridiculous ease.

You groan, pressing your face into his shoulder to hide away from whatever judgement might pass across his face as he reads off the puck, one of the early ones, from before you even realised he wanted you. From the days when you were pining, crushing hard on a man you thought you'd never have.

"Quinn smiled at me during warm ups'...Oh, baby, that's cute," Quinn grasps the nape of your neck in his hand, pulling until you turn to look at him, your cheek still smushed against his shoulder.

"We weren't dating then...and you were always so locked in..." You try to justify it, that back then his smiles were rarer, he was always so focused on the game that a smile was special, that any little interaction felt special because he wasn't yours yet, but it doesn't stop you feeling silly and embarrassed that you'd felt a smile during warm ups was important enough to put on a puck. At the time it had felt like the only thing that mattered, that Quinn had smiled at you, that his focus had been on you.

"I always have a smile for you...even back then, I was always excited when you agreed to come to a game...it made me want to play ten times harder, baby, still does." Quinn can't remember a time when he wasn't excited to see you at a game, to know you were there to support him, even in the early days. If anything the early days were even more exciting, simple because it didn't feel like a given that you'd be there. You weren't his girlfriend back then, you didn't have to be there, he couldn't complain if you weren't. So seeing you had always felt like he'd won a prize because you'd given up your time to watch him play in a freezing cold arena even knowing you'd barely get to talk to him.

"They're silly..." You gesture to the array of pucks, the number feeling ridiculous. How had you managed to collect over 100 pucks? Why had you decided to keep them all?

You stop your self-doubt and wallowing at the feeling of Quinn pressing a kiss to your hair, tugging you into his lap until you're as close as he can get you. Quinn is gentle when he runs his palm from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine and back again, a soothing rhythm that makes you feel more confident when you look him in the eye.

"They're sweet...this is our entire story in pucks, can't get better than that..." The way he smiles at you is so soft and sweet that you wonder why you were ever scared of him finding them, "Don't stop doing it, baby...Promise me."

"I'll run out of space in my box though..." You look down at the almost full, falling apart cardboard box from one of your deliveries 2 years prior, the corners starting to tear, the free space inside almost non-existent.

"Then I'll get you a bigger box. I want to be 90 years old and have a thousand pucks in a giant box, each with something you thought was special enough to write on it... even if it is..." He picks up a puck squinting at it, "'I made Quinn laugh.' or," Quinn finds another from the pile, "'Quinn said my hair looked pretty', although maybe I need to be setting the bar higher, baby" He teases you, flipping the puck between his fingers with ease.

"I was pining after you, okay, and I wasn't sure you liked me back then!"

"Yeah, I forget, me asking you to come watch me play wasn't clear enough!" Quinn has been adamant for years that it was obvious he was asking you on a date, that you were just oblivious. He was, of course, wrong. Asking someone to come watch them play hockey was not in any way an obvious invite to a date and you refused to take responsibility for the earlier miscommunication which was clearly all his fault.

"It's not clear at all, honey! People ask people to watch them play all the time, it doesn't make it a date!"

"It was so a date!" a date in which you spent near 3 hours in the freezing cold and barely spoke to Quinn...definitely what a date is supposed to be. No wonder he was single for so long when you met him.

"Honestly, I'm starting to think you're lucky I liked you enough to put up with you..."

"...I am lucky...I'm lucky you gave me a chance and that you liked me enough to keep all these pucks and I'm lucky you agreed to move in with me even if you hide pucks in the closet like some weirdo." Quinn grips your hips, squeezing gently, smiling up at you sweetly even as he calls you a weirdo like he's not the one who thought watching him play hockey would be a good first date idea.

"You'll be lucky to sleep in the bed tonight if you keep that up,"

"You'd kick me out of our bed, baby? Really?" Quinn pouts at you as you grin down at him from your perch on his lap, arms wrapping over his shoulders and crossing behind his neck.

"...I'm joking, I can't sleep without your snores." If you could call his barely there noises snores, the lightest of snores, the sort of snores that were almost perfectly rhythmic rather than annoyingly inconsistent. Before Quinn you'd been adamant you couldn't date someone who snored, that it would make it too hard to sleep, now? Now, you genuinely missed them when he was gone. The noise a comforting backing track.

"You should put that on the next puck, 'I can't sleep without Quinn's snores in my ear and his manly arms around me'."

"'Manly arms'?" You pull back from him slightly, brows raised in question and an amused twist to your lips.

"You don't think my arms are manly, baby?" You laugh as Quinn raises one arm, flexing his bicep. You can't even see his muscles underneath his baggy hoodie, too well hidden within his cocoon of comfy cotton and polyester.

"I think you're ridiculous...." You shake your head at him, settling back in against him as he peers down at you with eyes that can only be described as loving, soft around the edges and almost hazy.

"Well, I think I'm in love with you."

You sigh happily as you reach for the box of pucks just behind you. You find a puck you know from sight alone, plucking it from the box and handing it to Quinn in response. You watch him read it, the way his smile turns to a full grin that beams at you like you've given him the moon. When in reality its just a ratty puck that says, 'I think I'm in love with Quinn Hughes'.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months ago

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Title: Puppy Love.

Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.

You heard Yuuji, first.

He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.

But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.

You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.

His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”

“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”

Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.

It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.

You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.

You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—

Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.

Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.

It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.

You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—

“Stop.”

Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”

It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.

Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.

The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.

“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”

There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”

“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”

And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”

His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.

Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”

Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.

Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”

His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”

But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.

“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”

Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #hybrid au #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jututsu kaisen imagines #yandere itadori yuji #yandere yuji #yuji x reader #yuta x reader #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

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onehelluvafan · 2 months ago

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Is Octavia afraid of Stella?

This brief scene of them together in Mastermind confirmed for many of us something we’d long suspected—that Stella is not close with nor very maternal towards Octavia. But after watching this a few times, I think it might go even deeper than that. I think there are subtle hints that Octavia might actually be afraid of her.

There is evidence as early as Loo Loo Land that even when Stella was more involved, she may not have been a source of comfort for Octavia.

When baby Octavia is crying for them at the beginning of the episode, Stella says, "You get up," before Stolas sighs and goes to comfort their daughter.

There’s been some debate in the fandom that maybe this exchange was more about “taking turns” than anything else. But the sigh that Stolas gives is clearly a reaction to her response and he is already sitting up before she has even finished her sentence.

I think the implication is that he was going to get up either way and is annoyed that she has no interest in comforting Octavia, whether it be alone or together. The intensity of the sigh may also indicate that this was a regular occurrence at the time.

In the same episode, there is a photo and drawing of just Stolas and Octavia. Then later, in The Circus, we see a another photo of just the two of them.

The only pictures we see that include both Stella and Octavia are family photos with the three of them together. Over the span of 17 years, these are the only two photos that seem to exist and she is not physically touching nor looking at Octavia in either of them.

In Mastermind, Octavia is clearly very upset, but there's more being shown than just her hesitation to embrace Stella.

When she first runs from the television, Stella swoops in front of her so forcefully that there is a *whoosh* sound effect. Octavia briefly puts her hands up as she comes to a stop, so that they don’t collide.

Then, arms back down at her sides, she stands there for a moment with a look of confusion and concern on her face. At first I assumed that this was her reaction to being blocked from the doorway, but then I realized that they are in Stolas’ palace, where she wouldn’t expect her mother to be in the first place.

But the thing that startled me when I first noticed, happens when Stella reaches out to engulf her in a hug. Octavia's reactive instinct is to raise her hands, palms facing outward, and back away.

Once in Stella's embrace, she then stands there limply until she begins to cry. Only after that does she move to hug Stella back, but even then, there is another moment of hesitation when her arms are halfway up before she finally embraces her back.

It makes sense for her to be startled and confused at first, but seeing her recoil when Stella raises her arms, paints a concerning picture.

To be clear, I don't think it's meant to imply that Stella has actually hit Octavia before. Honestly, if she had, I think we can all agree that Stolas would have absolutely kicked Stella's ass straight out into the stratosphere.

We do know, however, that she has seen Stella be physically violent towards Stolas. While it’s possible that she’s never witnessed them fight previous to his cheating, she was at least exposed to it enough afterwards to be completely unfazed when her mother hurls an imp at him in Loo Loo Land.

So, I suspect that, on some level, she does not feel entirely safe around Stella.

Either way, I think we’re supposed to assume from their exchange that Octavia has likely never been comforted, or possibly even held, by Stella before.

Because the fact remains that, even after finding herself merely in an embrace, she still hesitated to accept comfort from her own mother.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #helluva theory #stella #octavia #stolas #mastermind #onehelluvafan

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usedpidemo · 9 days ago

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Instant crush (Ive Wonyoung)

This world is really something else.

Eight billion people on this planet alone. Billions of planets among the cosmos. And even more stars to count.

It’s truly amazing knowing that you still haven’t found the one. At this point, you might as well shoot for the stars. Perhaps the one you’re searching for might be up there, looking down with the same longing as you have.

—————

Even down on earth, you’re still in good company.

Another clear night in the open fields, ripe for stargazing. Everyone’s brought their food, their sleeping tents, and their telescope, but most importantly: each other. It’s become your primary bonding experience over the last several months.

These days, however, you prefer gazing up at the stars by yourself. It feels more comforting to be alone. No one really looks for you or shows concern when you suddenly disappear from camp, nor do they wonder where you’ve gone when you come back. You could have been killed and there would have been no trace, no search.

If anything, you’re more surprised you still keep getting invited.

Nevertheless, the night sky looks especially lovely tonight, with the countless stars shining at their brightest. While your friends prefer searching for the constellations, you’d rather admire them through your human eyes.

Every now and then, you hear your friends from afar, celebrating as the occasional shooting star passes by. It only emphasizes the loneliness you feel on a larger, painful scale.

On nights like these, you make a wish. You’re not the superstitious kind, but the faith and desperation makes you want to believe. Doesn’t matter if not a soul hears you, your innermost desire rings loud enough to be felt. The tears in your eyes show.

As the night goes further along, you’re about to make your way back to camp. Even from several feet afar, you can see them start winding down, the lights from their campervans flickering off. Everyone else begins to pack their belongings and settle in, when suddenly, another meteor flies past, its glow brighter than any other. You can hear the commotion, their voices loud and ecstatic, claiming they’ve never caught a star this close until now.

Hell, you can see its physical properties with your own two eyes.

As the star descends at blisteringly high speed, you’re hit with the realization that it is, in fact, going to crash nearby. Sure enough, it passes through your line of sight with a blinding gleam before landing several miles away from where you were standing minutes ago. Immediately, a trail of smoke ascends to the sky, its exact location clear as day.

Given the circumstances, it’s your opportunity to finally be seen. To be the first. To be recognized as something more.

While everyone else in camp scrambles for their gear, you make a quick beeline for the crashed meteorite, having given yourself a significant head start. Based on how thin the smoke it left behind, you’d imagine it to be nothing special: just a regular space rock. As you approach the site, and see the shallow crater it made comparable to the average garden excavation, your assumptions would be confirmed.

However, a thick veil of white fumes surrounds the crater’s entire circumference, rendering any attempt to see the meteorite inside impossible. Common sense dictates that one should never touch anything foreign, especially if said object is of extraterrestrial origin. For a while, you contemplate the idea. After all; you may be dumb, but not that reckless.

Seeing as the smoke has no intention to dissipate, you may as well brave the storm. Worst case scenario, you disintegrate into ashes or die from poisoning, but you’ve got nothing to lose at this point. Still, the hesitation remains, as you constantly draw your hand and finger back the closer you get to touching the barrier.

There’s a still, small voice calling out to you, likely your subconscious, daring you to pass through the veil. Your heart wants you to take the leap, your mind tells you to stay back. It’s a surprisingly complicated conundrum.

In the end, the heart wants what it wants. It wants to venture through the unknown. It wants definitive answers. It wants you to take that leap of faith.

Slowly but surely, you slip your finger through the thick white veil. Your skin doesn’t disintegrate nor does it burn. If anything, you feel nothing at all. There’s no smell or sensation as your hand completely disappears beyond the barrier, then to your elbow, until your entire arm is consumed by the fog. Your body moves of its own accord, seemingly getting sucked into an entirely new world beyond the smoke.

As soon as you’re completely taken to the other side, the fog vanishes instantly. Your feet suddenly stop, realizing you’re no longer feeling solid ground. As the earth beneath you crumbles, it turns out you were one step away from falling in embarrassing fashion.

More importantly, there’s no meteorite at the bottom. It’s already cracked into pieces of dust.

So you look up again. On the opposite end of the crater, an unexpected sight takes you off-guard. There’s a woman standing there, completely in the nude.

You can’t help but call to her. “Hey!”

With her back turned against you, looking left and right, your cry falls on seemingly deaf ears.

So you try again. Same result. Completely ignored.

You’ve got no choice but to run around and approach her, albeit cautiously. Even in the middle of nowhere, the danger persists.

The woman’s eyes turn toward you as you reach her. Nudity aside, her appearance is glaringly pretty. An unnatural beauty that you’ve never seen before. Long black hair, pouty lips, and a pristine face worth dying for. She’s really heaven-sent.

However, instead of showing concern or worry, her expressions show that of indifference and apathy. A little curiosity, even. As if she doesn’t know what she’s doing or where she is.

“Excuse me.” You’re trying not to stare at anywhere else but her beautiful face, and even that gets your heart racing. “I’m sorry, but you’re standing out naked in the middle of the cold,” you tell her, slowly falling into temptation. Eventually getting the better of you, you give yourself a tiny glance of her boobs, hoping she doesn’t catch on, and thankfully, she stares idly, “You might need some warmth.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she merely blinks and watches you intently.

“Um,” you swallow, unsure of what to say or do, like anyone else in this situation. “Do you know where you are, miss?”

The woman continues to stare at you, occasionally blinking, before finally answering, “Planet 120121, codename Earth.”

Her monotone delivery and the peculiar string of words that came from her mouth take you aback. She continues before you’re even able to say anything, saying, “You are a resident species of planet Earth. Homo sapien. Codename Human.”

And she goes on by listing your complete biology, down to the smallest details. Your personal information, your biometrics, your history. Somehow, her voice saying your name sends shivers down your spine.

The revelation dawns on you, hits you like a truck. “You’re not human.”

Suddenly, before you can ask another question, you hear the shouts of your friends, having finally reached your location. They’re also calling for you, though not as lovely sounding as the alien right in front of you. You turn around and see as they emerge from the disappearing smoke. But as you quickly face her again, she has suddenly disappeared without any trace.

“There you are,” says one of them, the self-professed leader, before you can even react. “Thank God you were okay. We didn’t realize you left on your own, and lo and behold, you’re the first one in our group to discover a meteorite. Who would have thought?”

“There’s nothing here,” interjects another friend, surveying the crater with his camera and scanner, noting the lack of physical evidence. “That’s strange. Usually there should be a meteorite, but it’s just nothing but rubble.”

Unsurprisingly, they’re quick to jump to conclusions. Most of them. The leader narrows his eyes, though his voice remains pleasant and friendly, albeit incredibly shaky. “Look. I know it feels good to feel important, but how about you let us have a little peek? Promise, we’ll make sure you get the credit.”

None of them would ever in the slightest believe what you had seen even if you told the truth. If anything, it’ll be an excuse for them to finally ostracize you. Now you’re caught up in a rather inescapable situation with no clear outs.

“Um.” Your gaze avoids the four sets of eyes intently glaring, threatening to force information out of you with every step forward. You can’t do anything to save your life, including throwing a punch. You reason with them, “Look, I know this might seem hard to believe—”

“What? You broke the meteorite?” The leader interrupts, the three others right behind him, now visibly enraged. Besides the fun and fellowship, there’s plenty at stake. There’s money to be made. Fame and glory. It’ll be memorialized in museums and books. A lasting legacy broken with one simple mistake. “You just wasted us thousands, if not millions with your blatant stupidity—”

“Don’t. He’s correct; he doesn’t have a single trace of foreign material on him,” The guy with the scanner says, stepping ahead to protect you. At least someone in the party has a little common sense. “He’s correct; the meteor must have destroyed itself upon impact.”

You can tell by the leader’s disapproving stare that he doesn’t buy it. At all. Still, for his own reputation’s sake, and to avoid impulsively murdering someone in front of several eyewitnesses, he relents. As he walks away from the scene, you can see his lips moving, silently cursing you.

“Right. Let’s get back to camp and rest up,” he gathers the party and takes his departure, leaving you on your own to catch up.

Of course you don’t follow back. You spend some time looking around the crash site, searching for the mysterious extraterrestrial, but to no avail, having completely disappeared without a trace. It’s a reminder of not dabbling with strange elements you have little to no experience with.

Still, the alien’s strange presence stirs in your mind. Something about it felt human. It certainly possessed a body and spoke like your fellow man, even though its speech could have been ripped from any computer. Maybe it was indeed an alien; you’ve never seen a face like that, so captivating, so dreamlike, yet so familiar. It really makes you think.

Slap yourself a hundred times. It was a hundred percent real and not a hallucination or an illusion.

—————

A day later, you come home to your apartment. Life goes on. Turn on the TV, the noontime news is playing. You figure you’ll fall asleep on the couch after a little while. The night before, you didn’t have sound sleep, still reminiscing about your odd encounter and what it might have meant.

Suddenly, the sound of running water catches your attention. You never stepped foot inside your bathroom, at least not yet, nor were you willing to. No one else lives in this apartment as far as you know, and you’re no believer in ghosts.

So you grab an unplugged lamp from the living room and sneak around, quiet as a mouse. The bathroom door is slightly open as you approach closely, the sound of water growing louder. Someone is using your shower. Instead of rushing in, you wait on the corner, readying to strike at the earliest opportunity.

Your heart races wildly. Your breaths are muffled, deep, and heavy. The water stops, and you can only hear yourself.

For a few tense, lengthy minutes, nothing happens. The intruder has no intention of stepping out, even though there are no vents or openings where they can escape from. It’s an enclosed space. You can easily wait a bit longer, but your impatience gets the best of you.

So you haphazardly charge in, guns blazing, screaming at the interloper. “Get out of here.”

You don’t recognize who you’re screaming at, nor do you careYour vision straightens out, and you’re taken completely by surprise at your uninvited guest.

It’s them. Or in this case, her.

The woman doesn’t respond. In fact, she doesn’t react at all. No expression shift, no rebuttal, no displeasure, nothing. One of your bath towels is draped around her figure, and her body is soaking wet. God, she still has that alluringly gorgeous face, made even better now that’s in living color. You’re already regretting shouting in her face, even if it was in self-defense.

In your shock, you drop the lamp on the floor.

“I—I’m sorry.” You’re struggling to put the words in your mouth. There’s so much running through your mind right now, countless questions. But the most important thing right now is focusing on her. Something about this woman is inviting you closer. The last thing you want to do is push her away. “I—I didn’t realize—”

“Do not apologize.” The woman’s lips try to form some semblance of a grin, and fails. It’s as endearing as everything else you know about her, and so is her robotic speech. “As a matter of fact, I should be the one to apologize for using your water to cleanse myself. I can see why your species enjoys bathing in water. It truly feels refreshing.”

Your eyebrows narrow and your lips twist into a frown. “You don’t shower?”

“Our culture showers, just not in water. You wouldn’t understand.”

And you’re not going to try.

She steps aside, walking past you and out of the bathroom. “Excuse me.”

You allow her.

Following her back to the living room, you watch as the mysterious woman lets your bath towel fall freely to the floor. Before you get an extended peek of her bare body, she waves her dainty hands all over herself, manifesting a white dress set out of nothing around her slender figure, perfectly fitting to a tee.

In case you needed additional confirmation she isn’t human.

“How did you get here—”

“I understand that you have a lot of questions,” she interrupts, brushing a strand of hair aside, facing you with a proper, lovely smile. “And I wish to answer them, so as to not bring you any more stress. But I cannot. For your sake.”

“What do you mean—”

She lifts a finger, hushing you. “All your questions will be answered in due time. For now—” walking toward you, she puts her hands over your arms, “I would like to know you and this place some more.”

You don’t know what to say. This woman’s leaving you flustered and speechless. No one’s ever tried to get this close toward you, not a damn soul. Even a being beyond comprehension, it still feels real. You get a sense that she’s coming from a place of genuine curiosity.

“I—I don’t even know who—or what you are,” you tell her, tone low, overwhelmed.

“You can call me anything you desire,” she says, appealing herself to you with her pretty eyes. “Please let me stay with you.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. There was never any opportunity to resist. “Of course. Please stay as long as you like.”

—————

The woman notices a photo in your bedroom. It’s not a family member or any close friend, but someone everyone recognizes. She’s everywhere you look: on billboards, in magazines, in commercials. You can’t really escape her, no matter how far you go.

She also happens to resemble the alien you’ve been talking to.

“Jang Wonyoung,” the woman mutters to herself, intently scanning the photo of the person she’s the mirror image of. That's your primary reason for attraction. Even as an extraterrestrial, her appearance is the embodiment of Wonyoung. From the face, to the voice, down to the subtleties. “Jang Wonyoung sounds like a cute name.”

“You’re not her,” you bluntly tell her, despite her appearance bearing the exact image of the idol. “You may look like her, you may sound like her, but you’re not Wonyoung.”

Even though, deep in your heart, you’re gonna start calling her just that.

“How long have you been together?” she asks, taking the photo into her hand, presenting a core memory. The idol Wonyoung poses with you as you take a selfie, fresh after one of their concerts.

“Oh—I wish. She’s an idol, I’m just a fan. She can’t date—at least publicly,” you tell her, amused by her lack of familiarity with earthly culture.

“An idol? So she’s a god presiding over this planet?”

“I mean—to some people, yes, but she doesn’t have powers or anything. She’s also like me. A human. A really gorgeous human, but just that.”

“I see.” Wonyoung takes another minute to look at the photo, intrigued. “Why is she given the title idol, then? Idols are usually reserved for gods.”

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you’re scratching your head, figuring out how you can simplify yourself without having to chat up an hour-long video essay’s worth. “But she’s mainly a singer, okay? She sings and dances for a crowd of devoted fans, and everyone loves her for doing that.”

“Sings and dances? Shouldn’t these so-called ‘fanatics’ be performing for her instead?”

You scrunch your nose and shrug, barely hiding your chuckle at her sincere naivety. She’s half-right in a way. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Wonyoung follows you back to the living room, unsatisfied by how quickly the conversation ended. She shoots a cute pout that goes completely ignored. You call to her, asking if she wants anything to eat, but falls on deaf ears. Noticing the TV, she sets her eyes on the screen, her attention completely enraptured by all the fast moving action.

As expected, she doesn’t watch TV like any normal human. She stands directly in front of the screen, resting her hand on top of the panel. You can only assume this is her absorbing information. Strange, but nothing you haven’t seen in other sci-fi media.

And then, she begins to float a couple of feet off the ground. Her irises dilate before completely disappearing. Soon enough, objects in your apartment join her in the air moments later, including some of your appliances.

At first, it doesn’t seem remotely close to anything scary, only drawing your curiosity. But as she continues to absorb knowledge from the TV, a strange glow surrounds her body, her eyes glowing bright white. The lights in your apartment flicker on and off, the screen’s imagery changes to static, and all these other little tremors threaten to blow the place open. Nearly every appliance in your flat is going haywire from this sudden surge in power.

You have no choice but to step in before someone gets hurt.

“Wonyoung,” you’re calling to her, telling her to stop, trying desperately to snap her out this haze. She’s too numb to feel anything but the TV. Her body is surrounded with so much white light, it’s beginning to fill the entire room. An explosion is imminent.

You’ve got nothing left except to approach her, no matter how dangerous it may be.

So with one last desperate cry, you shout out Wonyoung’s name, reaching her with your hand from behind. All of a sudden, a blinding flash fills your eyes, leaving you temporarily blind—and rendering you unconscious.

But it works. The light gradually disappears. She falls to the ground, overwhelmed by all this excess energy.

Unfortunately, it comes at your apartment’s expense. To add insult to injury, the fire alarm in your apartment building activates, turning on the emergency water sprinklers. She’s left your entire flat a complete mess.

When you open your eyes, it’s raining everywhere; electronics everywhere falling apart, sparks occasionally shooting from the outlets and from tattered wires. Wonyoung’s lain unconscious in front of the TV, smoke coming out of the thin, shattered panel. Look around and see the aftermath; destroyed pieces of furniture, newly created holes in your walls, a clean break of your window, your life savings completely down the drain.

Still, none of those are your utmost concerns right now. You shake Wonyoung’s inert body, searching for any sign of life. Thankfully, she leans her head sideways moments later, staggered and confused.

“What—what happened?” she can barely open her eyes, let alone move her lips.

“Christ. Wonyoung, we gotta get outta here,” you tell her, lifting her off the ground, wrapping her arms around you. “You blew up my apartment and if anyone finds out, we’ll get in so much trouble.”

She ends up passing out again as you drag her outside your apartment and out of the building.

—————

Mercifully, it appears to be an isolated incident. No one besides you or Wonyoung were injured in some capacity. Still, you’ve come to the grim realization that never step foot inside your apartment ever again.

Emergency services rush into the building, while the police seal off the entrance for the other residents—at least temporarily. You’ve hidden Wonyoung’s motionless body behind a pair of sunglasses, hiding her behind some bushes at the nearest park, keeping yourself distant from her to avoid any suspicion. Your friends, devoted astronomers and stargazers, aren’t ready to accept the existence of alien life, much less the authorities and the public. Especially since her appearance is deeply tied to someone well-known, a star in and of herself.

Everyone knows the fire is coming from your apartment. The smoke from your window reaches up to the sky. So of course, when it’s time for questioning, all fingers are pointed toward you.

You tell them the exact same thing: a power surge, an electricity overload. Faulty cables and appliances. Whether it’s the police, the fire department, the medics, or the media. Anything to keep her existence hidden from the world. Sure enough, everyone buys it. Freak accidents occur all the time. It’s one of those days. Shit happens.

The only one who doesn’t look happy or at least concerned is your landlord, obviously. You’ve destroyed his property after all.

“I was gonna tell you to get out, but it looks like you’ve done that yourself,” he tells you, tone condescending, showing no empathy towards your situation. You can tell he’s wanted you gone for a while, but wasn’t legally able to.

“I was planning to move out anyway,” is your rebuttal, equally as snarky. Rubbing your arm, still wincing in pain from earlier. A lot has happened and there’s plenty more to do, but your first priority is Wonyoung. It’s been almost an hour since you’ve left her in the park.

So you run back to the spot where you’ve hidden her, only to find that she has completely disappeared. Panic sets in. Your search leads you to other parts of the city. Hours pass, with your efforts coming up empty. The sun is beginning to set, with you having quite the conundrum: she’s not only gone, but you have no shelter.

As fate would have it, you find Wonyoung in a different park on the other side of the city. She’s watching a group of skaters from afar, still wearing your sunglasses.

You call out her name, and she turns to you, her expression stone cold. She raises a hand though, presumably waving without actually motioning.

“Hey. I’m—I’m sorry for what happened back there,” you tell her, taking a seat beside her as she turns her attention back to the skaters. “Look. I know you’re upset that I left you back there, but you gotta understand that you can’t just do that. You were wrecking up my place. Well—you did wreck it, actually.”

“So is that what the smoke was about? I did that?” Wonyoung asks with zero awareness or alarm, as if she really didn’t know what she had done.

You gently nod, frowning. As much as you don’t want to, she has to know the truth. “Yes. You were scanning the TV, and you got into this weird state where you were floating. Other objects were starting to move too, the electronics were surging with power, and—” you swallow, your lips trembling, “you hurt me.”

Wonyoung’s mouth slowly drops at your confession in utter disbelief. She takes a moment to collect herself. Based on the frown on her lips, you get the sense that she’s feeling guilty, even if it wasn’t her intent. Even behind sunglasses, a tear falls from one of her eyes.

“I—I’m sorry.” She reaches her hand out to you, a familiar glow surrounds her, this time fainter than what you saw earlier. As she touches your arm, the gleam passes from her skin to yours. It’s a soft, warm, comforting touch. More than that, it’s a healing brush; your scars, scrapes, and wounds gradually seal themselves clean, curing any and all forms of physical pain. Then it stops. “I hope I can make it up to you.”

“What are you then? What planet do you come from?” you ask, finally removing the bandage that you’ve plastered between you.

“I cannot tell you that,” she says, blunt and to the point. “Our intentions cannot be made known by species other than our own.”

“You destroyed my apartment. You owe me an explanation,” you tell her, frustrated by her response.

Wonyoung gives herself a moment to think in silence. As the city lights turn on, she looks up. High in the sky, a shooting star flies by, similar to the one that led you to her.

“They’re coming,” she says to you, her gaze lingering on that falling star. Another one trails not too far behind. “Perhaps they’ve already arrived.”

“Who are? There’s more of you?”

She nods, confirming your answer.

“We’re a conquering intergalactic species,” she tells you, still looking up to the heavens above. By the weight of her voice, this is something serious. “We search for hospitable worlds we can inhabit and rule by slowly assimilating into their culture before destroying the host planet and reforming it as our own.”

“So you’re like a race of body snatchers,” you comment, staring at her side profile, unable to tell yourself you’re speaking to a hostile alien, even if it’s apparent by her outlandish diction. In your eyes, she’s still Wonyoung. You quip, “I can see why you would choose Wonyoung.”

“Yes. Upon further research, I can come to the conclusion that this Jang Wonyoung is an exemplary sample of the human race,” she tells you, smiling cutely. “It’s such a shame that humans like her must be destroyed along with everything else on this planet.”

“But why? Why destroy Earth?”

“It’s a planet that will ultimately destroy itself,” says Wonyoung, putting her head down, looking at the ground beneath. “And from what I see, the only way it can be saved is by wiping the dominant species from existence. Humans.”

“There are still good people. At times we go to war, at times we can be selfish—but we still come together in times of need. At the end of the day, we still need each other to survive.”

“Your friends—they seem to not trust you at all,” she says, referring to your fellow stargazers. “Why do you still call them your friends?”

It’s a question even you yourself are struggling to figure out. Maybe it’s all about the fellowship and camaraderie, but you’ve never once felt welcome or important. No one ever bothers to keep a lengthy conversation with you. You’re often forgotten and overlooked to the point where your presence is nigh-invisible. To them, you’re mostly just an extra body, sometimes a liability, as seen during the meteorite incident. And yet, you still ride along whenever they come calling.

“To be honest, I don’t really know,” you tell her, lowering your head while sighing wistfully. “It’s been really lonely these days, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Then why did you trust me, knowing now that I am your enemy?” she asks, staring at you intently.

“You’re not an enemy to me, Wonyoung.” You face her, tilting your head away from the ground, under the delusion that some part of her is indeed human. “I don’t care if you’re an alien or if you want to kill me. What’s important is that I protect you right now, even if that means dying or whatever.”

Everything boils down to a simple question: “Why?”

At first, you don’t really have a definitive answer. But looking at the splitting image of her, your favorite idol, you know exactly why. You smile.

“Because I like you, Wonyoung. I can’t help but think it’s you, no matter how much I try to deny it.”

“I am not your so-called ‘Wonyoung.’ You are beyond irrational.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you tell her, looking up at the stars. “I believe you’re here for a reason.”

“And what reason may that be?”

The question goes ignored, and for good reason: you don’t exactly know. However, as you grow more acquainted with Wonyoung, perhaps you’ll figure it out. Something tells you it’s divine intervention, an answer to your heart's innermost desires.

“Humans like you genuinely puzzle me,” she remarks, still watching you closely, like you’ve got something to hide. Secrets upon secrets.

“I feel the same way about us,” you quip back, quietly chuckling at her comment, because it’s true. Seeing how dark it is outside, you get up. “It’s getting late though, we should probably find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“I can take care of myself.” She says it exactly the way the real Wonyoung would—with a dash of sass and a charming attitude. Her body morphs into a clear formless liquid, showing you she can disappear and reappear anywhere at any time before transforming back into the girl of your dreams.

“I know, I know,” you tell her, reaching out your hand, undeterred. “But don’t you wanna see what Earth is really like before you destroy it for good?”

She blinks twice, contemplating the idea. “You’re right.”

—————

Wonyoung’s attention is scattered all over the place. Bright lights, big city, Wherever she turns, something new happens. Crowds going in and out of buildings, families bonding, everything else in between. There’s a childlike wonder in her eyes, in awe of our species and culture, seeing everyone from all walks of life grouped together.

She sees herself everywhere—on billboards, on the TVs for sale, on little posters. She sees the real one performing on screen, and recognizes why you and many others hold her in such high regard. In the same way she’s captivated you, it’s dazzling her too.

Maybe Earth isn’t as horrible as initially thought.

“Yeah,” you tell her, slowly tracing back your steps as you’ve realized she’s vanished again—a lot more than you care to count. Smiling from ear to ear as you look at the TV, then at Wonyoung, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

Wonyoung grins back. She waves her hands around like a wand, magically turning her little dress into an all-white jumpsuit, looking like a million bucks, as she should.

“Just had to rub it in, huh,” you remark, ogling her new appearance from head to toe.

She chuckles, placing her hand on your shoulder in the most attention-seeking way possible. She’s a natural at looking and acting hot, which doesn’t surprise you—it’s Wonyoung, after all. Seeing herself on screen has given her a template to follow.

“I bet you’re a little hungry now,” she remarks, whispering against your ear, her voice skin melting. Again, effortlessly seductive.

A million thoughts instantly come to mind, most of which are best left unsaid. But then you hear your stomach grumble, by far the most embarrassing to admit defeat. Of course she hears it, makes it a big deal by laughing heartily.

“Unfortunately so.”

“What is the best place to eat around here?” she asks, as if you’ve got a whole reserve of money lying around—which you don’t.

“You serious? I can barely find a place to stay, let alone something good to eat,” you admit, coming to terms with the fact you may be in serious trouble. Having vacated your apartment because of her, you’ve left most of your belongings behind, leaving with nothing but your phone, wallet, and the clothes on your back, which are in slightly poor shape.

“I see.” She presses her hand tightly on your shoulder, using her powers to transfigure your clothing into something matching hers. A fine, expensive two-piece suit. Still, it’s not changing your current predicament.

“I appreciate the thought, but let’s not get carried away,” you comment, holding your coat and examining yourself. “I mean, we’re still in public and it kinda beats the point of hiding you.”

“No one cares,” she replies back, glancing at the surroundings to back her statement. She’s right; everyone’s got places to go, people to hang out with, that you’re both merely passersby. However, you also notice a heightened increase in police activity. Cops everywhere in the wake of today’s incident, still fresh in your minds. It’s a crowded night with a lot happening. You can get away with almost anything—time to see just how much that means.

“All right. If that’s the case, then I sure wouldn’t mind having a lot of money right now,” you tell her, pulling out your near-empty wallet to see if she can make bread from stones.

Wonyoung shakes her head, more baffled by your actions than anything else. “What are you doing?”

“You said you could do anything and no one would bat an eye,” you say, hiding your rather selfish intentions from her.

“Oh, absolutely. But I cannot make something out of nothing. Unless you want me to turn your wallet into cash, in which case I can only convert it into the highest value of whatever currency—”

“Okay I get it,” you interrupt, unwilling to listen to all the needless semantics. So you look around and immediately find an alternative—an ATM. Taking her across the street, you lead her to the machine and point your hand towards it. “I suppose you could do something with this then?”

“You do recognize that this is a form of theft and is therefore punishable by law?”

“I thought you said no one cares,” is your reply, slightly raising your voice in frustration. “What the fu—”

“I was merely joking.” Wonyoung shakes her head, smirking at your now dismayed expression, much to her delight. “Hand me your wallet.”

After you do so, she slips your card into the slot and this is where the magic happens. Holding out her hand against the tiny screen asking for the PIN, a faint pinkish glow emanates from her hand before waning out. She correctly enters your number without having to ask, then withdraws the highest amount of cash allowed from the machine.

You squint your eyes looking at the screen, examining the amount of money left in your account as she places the cash into your wallet. Millions, where there wasn’t any. Wonyoung is truly a miracle worker, her powers vast and beyond measure. The possibilities are endless.

“Would you like me to withdraw some more?” she kindly asks, as if you’re a beggar asking for money. You can only stare at her, utterly shell shocked and in disbelief.

Trying to play it cool to futile results, you end up submitting in the littlest voice possible. “I guess we could withdraw enough just for tonight—who am I kidding, do it four more times.”

—————

“Good evening, sir. Ma’am.” The host of this five-star restaurant greets you with a customary gentle bow. It’s a place Wonyoung picked after going through the options on your phone. She already knows this city better than you do, and you’ve lived here for over a year. “Do you have a reservation?”

Even though you’ve warned her numerous times about the dangers of going out and about in public, she doesn’t listen, insisting you trust her instead. Seeing what she’s done with her powers so far, you’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. All this time, she’s never taken off the sunglasses you’ve given her.

You give Wonyoung a trusting nod. Let her do all the work. She gently presses a finger on her cheek, and out comes that familiar glow of energy bursting from her. The host blinks a few times before seemingly leading you inside without any further questioning. “This way.”

Finding a table for two, you scan your nearby surroundings; the chatter inside the restaurant going radio silent, leaving only the music. Her powers have affected everyone within her vicinity, turning them into mindless zombies. Everyone—except you.

With your safety guaranteed, Wonyoung finally removes her sunglasses. The way she looks at you with her own two eyes gives you butterflies in your stomach. You have to remind yourself she’s only a mirror, a phantom and not the real Wonyoung. And yet you can’t; you’d like to imagine this is how she would treat you in real life, superpowers or not. Only God knows how you really feel about her. She makes you feel special in a way that’s incomprehensible. It’s hard to act normal in her presence.

With her, you feel like you can do anything.

“Our order’s not gonna be ready for some time,” Wonyoung comments, her eyes skating around the place, ensuring no one escapes her mind control. Her strange dialect and behavior is the clear giveaway, no matter how much you spin it, even if she has incorporated some of your culture into her vocabulary. “So let’s pretend that you’re dating me. How would you satisfy me?”

“Satisfy?” Even though you understood the context right away, your mind is already going there. To places where it shouldn’t be.

“Yes. As in, how would you make a good first impression on me? Or her?”

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start. For one, Wonyoung’s a celebrity with a status only surpassed by a certain few in her profession. Secondly, you’re working the nine-to-five like most people in this country. There’s no buying your way into her heart, that’s never gonna happen. If anything, she could own you. She has an air of prestige surrounding her, one that makes her nigh untouchable and above everyone else. Sharing a moment, no matter how brief, is a privilege, a miracle in its own right; how much more that you’re out with her in public? It would draw so much attention that you could never live a normal life. Every little thing, every little action, every little mistake would be a damning attack on your character. Something you’re all too familiar with.

So even in a make-believe scenario, you just know you’d lose no matter what. Her question brings you back down to earth.

“What’s up? Was it something I said?” Wonyoung notices the sudden dour expression on your face.

You can’t even muster the strength to face her. Looking down at the table is the only thing you can do.

“Reach out your hand,” she asks, hoping to get to the bottom of your predicament. It falls on deaf ears, worrying her.

So she does it herself, grabbing you by the hand, diving headfirst into the recesses of your mind. Her body trembles, levitates above the ground as she runs through your memories, through years of images and moments, both the good and bad.

The emotion is too much to handle. She snaps her eyes wide open, tears falling from her eyes. It’s happening again: a powerful burst of energy ripples through the area, sending everyone and everything flying back. Anyone under her mental spell is taken back to reality, with seemingly no recollection of their actions during her control.

Immediately realizing what she’s done, she tries to fix everything by herself, ignoring that you were pushed back by her blast too.

“Wonyoung? What did you do?” you ask, before looking around and seeing the complete clusterfuck. Your concern turns to panic. “Not again.”

She’s too focused on correcting her mistakes to hear you. She immediately uses her powers to brainwash everyone again, placing a finger on her temple, resembling that of a familiar professor. Under her command, every person in the building autonomously works on cleaning her mess, though some damages, like the cracked walls and the broken lights, are far beyond fixing.

But the strain of using her abilities excessively catches up with her, causing her to snap violently before quickly collapsing to the ground. Soon after, everyone is freed from her mind control again.

“Oh God—not again, not again.”

While everyone in the restaurant tries to collect themselves and figure out what’s happened to them, you drag Wonyoung outside and conceal her behind the darkness of an alleyway, fanning her with a rolled up magazine to keep her conscious. Thankfully, she’s groaning audibly in pain, which means she isn’t as hurt as you initially thought.

Tilting her head to the side, unable to open her eyes, she weakly murmurs, “It happened again?”

“It happened again. We’re not doing this anymore. Let’s just find a hotel and call it a night.”

—————

You weren’t taking any risks this time. You’ve booked yourselves the cheapest, nearest hotel you can afford, even with all the money at your disposal. It’s not like you’ll stay here for days. After all, you’ve called in a favor: a friend to borrow their car, intending to drive as far away from civilization as possible.

Wonyoung has kept herself quiet and distant ever since. You can hear her mumbling something, but you’re unsure exactly what. She stares distantly at the wall, deep in thought.

“Get plenty of rest. We’ll be traveling quite a lot in the coming days. It won’t be comfortable, I tell you now,” you say, offering her a glass of water to recuperate.

Snapping from her haze with your voice, she turns to her side, seeing your kind gesture toward her. She’s unable to bring herself to look directly into your eyes, frightened about the possibility of hurting you again. She tries to reach out her hand, almost takes the cup from your grasp, but ultimately gives in to her doubt and pulls back, unable to accept your offer.

So you place the drink by her bedside and leave her alone with her thoughts.

After having quite the eventful day, the couch is looking like the most comfortable place to be in right now, even more than the bed. All of it is barely sinking in; you’re still under the impression that you’re in a rather elaborate dream that you’re more than ready to wake up from. Everything feels too good to be true.

Right as you’re about to fall unconscious on the sofa, you hear Wonyoung calling your name from the bedroom. You try to sleep it away, but she calls out again. So despite your exhaustion, you decide to check in on her.

She’s still sitting on the bed’s edge, her water partially consumed. You genuinely feel sorry for her. She can’t bring herself to look at you, but she does mutter a little ‘thanks’ in appreciation for your kind gesture.

Sitting beside her, your hand intertwines with hers. Warm, calming, comforting.

“It’s getting late,” you murmur, glancing at the clock set next to the bed, 10 minutes past 11 in the evening. Your ride will arrive early in the morning. What happens after, you don’t know. “Go to sleep, Wonyoung. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“I don’t require sleep,” she tells you back, reinforcing her status as an alien.

“Well that doesn’t matter to me. You still need some sleep, for your peace of mind—and mine,” you reply.

Wonyoung leans her gaze in your direction, cautious, yet highly fascinated. Even after going through the depths of your mind, there’s still plenty that’s beyond her comprehension. Her observations have reinforced her opinion of you: that you’re truly one of a kind. An anomaly.

“You are quite the lonely soul, and yet you choose to be kind towards those that are cruel towards you,” she comments, softly breathing against your cheek.

“I wouldn’t say cruel,” you quip, meeting her in the middle. “That sounds a bit excessive.”

“Your memories—they only bring me anger and sorrow,” Wonyoung replies, narrowing her eyebrows thinking about them. “I cannot believe people would choose to hurt others without sound reasoning.”

“That’s just how it is in this world, sadly,” you tell her, blunt and to the point. “But regardless, Mom taught me that a little kindness goes a long way.”

“So, about this Wonyoung: what is it about her? Why are you so attracted to her?” she asks, and you’re staring into her eyes, pretending she’s asking this question herself directly to you.

You pause, contemplate your answers for a moment, before finally responding, “Aside from being the prettiest girl in the world, she just—seems like the ideal girl to me. I mean—she’s really beautiful, she can sing, she can dance, she can write lyrics, and she’s got this natural attitude about her that makes her the perfect celebrity. ”

“Your reasoning sounds—very superficial. Surely there’s something that resonates deeper than merely being a celebrity crush.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a little called out, and admittedly a bit ashamed, even if you’re staring down a phantom of Wonyoung. You’re taken aback by how real every word sounds from her glossy lips. It’s a wake-up call, a vicious but much-needed reality check.

“And as I go through your mind, you have nothing but shallow thoughts and sexual fantasies about Wonyoung,” she continues, using your hand as an outlet to dig through your brain and dissect you. “Perhaps that is why you have taken a liking to me as well. I just so happen to inhabit the form of your greatest desire: this woman.”

She’s caught you red-handed, and well, there’s no getting around it: you want Wonyoung more than anything, even if it’s an impossibility.

“Have I ever told you that your eyes can only see whatever they wish to see?” She’s leaning closer toward you, a bit too dangerous for comfort. “No other being in the universe can gaze at our true form other than ourselves.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but yeah—you do look quite a lot like her,” is your reply, like you’ve just uncovered a world changing revelation.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder: you like this Wonyoung for more than just her looks, but you can’t tell me exactly why,” she says, greatly fascinated by the intrigue.

“I have no idea either. Dead serious. If I knew, I would have told you by now.”

Wonyoung stands in front of you, still holding your hands. Closing her eyes, her powers manifest again, transforming her white jumpsuit into a little black dress, without any skirt, her slender legs in clear view. Smiling sweetly, she offers you an invitation, “What do you say you come and find out with me?”

It’s an offer you’d be hard-pressed to refuse. Forget that she’s an alien. Forget everything that sci-fi media has taught you about fucking extraterrestrial life. If you’re gonna go down, you might as well go down on a high.

—————

You both should be sleeping by now. Instead, you’re making a bit of a mess in your hotel room. Nothing a little magic can fix.

Wonyoung makes sure your gaze stays on her at all times. Any second thoughts disappear the moment she takes you by the hand, and makes you meet at her level. She’s mostly slender legs and arms, of raven-colored hair; it’s easy to imagine what’s beneath her sole layer of skimpy clothing.

“I thought you said I liked her more for something other than sex?” you ask, as if that’s gonna change what’s about to happen.

“Let’s just say I’m trying to appeal to your—hmm—” Wonyoung dips her head, plants her hands on her knees, crouching before you, the word having escaped the tip of her tongue, before she recollects herself. “Humanity.”

With a flick of her fingers, she unbuttons your shirt bottom to top, but you hold the middle button as her magic climbs halfway through your clothing. “No powers,” you tell her, shaking your head. “It’s not as good without doing it yourself.”

She blinks. For a moment, you thought you might have offended her. To your surprise, she gracefully straightens herself out. Without complaint, she takes hold of your fingers, parting them to physically undo the remaining buttons of your shirt.

Taking a moment to feel your bare chest behind your shirt, Wonyoung closes her eyes. She’s wearing a light yet aroused expression on her face—and she’s only touching you. You’re barely scratching the surface of how dirty you can get.

“Oh, that feels really good,” she coos, breathing heavily, her cheeks flustered and flushed bright red.

You caress her cheek, snap her from this haze. “You haven’t finished undressing me yet.”

In that moment, her eyes pop wide open, embarrassed in feeling herself so soon. “I’m sorry. This is all brand new to me. Our species don’t breed. We’re asexual—”

“Shush.” You place a finger between her lips. “We don’t talk a lot during sex.”

She mouths directly into your finger as if it were a microphone, speaking with a dash of urgency. “Then please show me. Guide me through this.”

“Of course.”

Planting both your palms on her cheeks, you finally muster up the strength to do something you never thought you’d ever do: kiss Wonyoung straight on the lips. It’s as romantic as you’ve imagined in your wildest fantasies. While you put all your passion into it, she remains frozen in place, unsure of how to react or what to do next.

You take notice, drawing back. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Wonyoung blinks again, her movements robotic.

“You’re supposed to reciprocate your partner’s feelings,” you tell her, placing your hands on her shoulders. “When I kiss you, give yourself a moment to let it simmer.”

She’s slowly nodding her head, listening intently to every word you say.

“Now are you ready?” You’re staring into her eyes, twinkling in the dark. You notice her head strengthening, determined to get it right this time.

“Yes. Please kiss me.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. You grab her by the nape, slip your tongue between her lips this time. More than simply teaching her, you’re living out your innermost desires through Wonyoung. There’s so much electricity, you’re kissing her like your life depends on it. The sensation consumes you: tasting her sweet lips, pull her as close as you possibly can.

As you peek through one eye, you catch Wonyoung relishing in the moment too. Mirroring your hand, she’s gently tugging you close to her, your bodies dangerously close to intertwining. Her kiss feels incredibly warm, irresistible to the touch. Humming between your lips, you sense her fingers clutching deep into your scalp, wrestling for control over you.

A few more seconds interlocked and you would have pushed her hard against the wall.

Tumbling out of the kiss, you’re gasping for air, taken by surprise at how good Wonyoung is. It shouldn’t be; her lips are naturally designed to be smooched, to be felt.

“So what now?” Wonyoung leans back against the wall, still looking innocent and angelic.

You answer through action: coat, pants, shoes, and boxers quickly come flying off your body as you quickly undress before her. She takes a moment to stare you down intently, especially making your erection a point of emphasis. It should feel awkward, but it isn’t; if anything, you feel comfortable baring yourself like this.

Wonyoung pulls down one of the straps of her body-hugging dress, followed by the other. Gravity does the rest. Letting it fall down her slender legs, she’s reduced to—nothing. Only bare, naked flesh.

You can’t help but mutter out your thoughts to the wind. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Likewise, you take a moment to drink in the sight of Wonyoung’s naked presence. You could honestly let her stand there and do nothing, and she would still end you every time. The thought greatly arouses you, your hand instinctively grabs your cock, begins slowly stroking right in front of her.

God, you really feel shameless right now. Your vision blurs, her presence far too divine to comprehend.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asks, puzzled—and a little amused—by your strange action. Her demure expression only serves to stir you further.

“Ah. Shit. I can’t help it,” you mutter, vacantly keeping your gaze at Wonyoung, mockingly shaking your wrists, playing coy to the fact she’s seemingly naive to your deepest intentions. Leading her back to the bed, you command her, “Get on your knees.”

She’s certainly pliant, down to do anything you say without a complaint. You take as many mental pictures of the scene: the prettiest idol on Earth, kneeling lowly before you, your cock inches away from her face. An unforgettable sight.

“You see this?” Pointing at your hard cock, aiming in the direction of her pretty lips. “I want you to put your lips between them.”

The instruction sounds ridiculous to her ears. “You want me to—kiss your penis?”

You nod your head, reaffirming your stance. “Yeah. Also, just call it cock for me, please.”

Wonyoung takes a moment, hesitant to follow through. You can wait as long as she wants, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up to meet yours. “Tell me if it’s too much. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Your little reassurance gives her the strength she needs.

The tip of her tongue peeks out, carefully approaching the bottom side of your shaft, shaking the closer it gets. The initial point of contact makes her flinch, pushes her away, jerks you violently onto the mattress. You barely manage to hold yourself together. If this is only a tease, you can imagine how the real thing would be like.

Then she tries again, swallowing up what fear she has left—and everything clicks.

The moment her lips part, making way for your tip, you almost lose control. It takes every last bit of your resolve not to unload right then and there. The sweet sensation of her lips feels even better on your cock than against your mouth. You’ve never felt this much ecstasy till now.

Slowly but surely, as her mouth fills itself with cock, her cheeks hollowing out, poking through her throat, she immerses herself in the feeling of taking you deep. Her nose is poking against your shaft; her bottom lip kissing the underside of your length. Little pleasing sucking noises escape her lips.

It’s powerful enough to make you question your knees’ ability to stay upright. A fistful of her hair is your only lifeline here.

Even in this unorthodox manner, Wonyoung seems to have a natural way to overwhelm your senses. But like always, she manages to straighten herself out, and gets to properly using your cock. All she needs is a single touch for her to understand everything.

Soon, she’s all over the place. Releasing you from her mouth at random intervals, stroking you with her deft, slinky fingers while twisting and licking every inch of your cock, before popping them back inside with the lewdest expressions imaginable. All this insane suction builds a violent, twisting knot in your stomach. It gets to a point where your groans of pleasure muffle her gentle hums of satisfaction.

You want her to stop, to keep her from ending you so soon. But the bliss is far greater and worth the early tradeoff. She appears so committed to the act, that interrupting her would be utterly disrespectful. Especially when your cock is so deep inside her throat, that unloading inside that mouth would be its deserved reward.

So you cling on. Cherishing the little glimpses of Wonyoung sucking you dry, relishing in what little you catch for as long as you can, because you know you’re on borrowed time.

“Fuck—so fucking—good—fucking—amazing—shit—” you sputter, watching her bob up and down your shaft, shooting you a stare back, seeking for approval, which you’d happily give—if you weren’t drowning in bodily pleasure. It’s unbelievable how natural she moves, as if she never needed help to begin with.

As your vision narrows, the only thing left that remains are blurs, flashes, vague images and sloppy sounds. Of brown eyes. Of dark hair. Of plump, swollen lips. Any moment now, she’s gonna get it. The friction builds, and builds, and builds, until—

“Wait.”

It’s the loudest thing heard in the room.

Wonyoung releases her velvety grip, but not without delivering one more parting shot: a slide of her tongue down to your base. You feel your whole world spiraling beyond comprehension.

At least you can save what little authority you have left.

Then you look at her, her face smeared in shades of you, and you’re already regretting not going all the way.

Too late for that, too late for everything. Your mind goes blank, unable to form a coherent train of thought, much less say a word.

Silence fills the room, with Wonyoung continuing to stare wide daggers at your soul, waiting in anticipation. Her breath barely a tickle against your skin, but still dangerously hot, sending chills all over your spine.

More importantly, she clears the fog in your head.

So you scoop Wonyoung off the floor, her slender legs wrapping themselves around you, then fall back onto the bed. Leaning back on the headboard, guiding her on top of your lap, making her straddle your waist, letting her above you. Her lips close the gap between you, sinking into you with a deep, passionate kiss.

The rest of the night could only be kisses and tender cuddles, and you would feel satisfied.

But as you spread your thighs wide, the pressure between you thickening, she leans to your ear, and gives you a simple request: “Let me feel every inch of you.”

In that voice—in that low, hushed, lethal tone—it’s a miracle you don’t come undone on the spot.

Bracing herself on your shoulders and chest, Wonyoung stares directly into your eyes as she sinks onto your lap. Taking her sweet time, leaving you on edge for a few tense minutes.

You never see it coming, no matter how heightened your senses are. Her eyes go shut; her mouth hangs, slowly goes slack, releasing a deep, prolonged moan. “Fuck.”

Slowly pressing into your clutch, ensuring every inch of your cock fills her cunt. She makes you throb uncontrollably as she bottoms out, muttering these quiet sighs and little gasps.

Reduced to nothing but ragged breaths, Wonyoung moves incredibly slow, like you’re both at a standstill. Carefully feeling every inch, every single pulse, every twitch of your cock resting deep in her pussy. You take lease of her back, then her tiny waist, running your hands over her skin, fitting so comfortably in your clasp, admiring her immaculate form.

Not once has your gaze ever left Wonyoung’s pretty face. You take note of all the fine details; every scrunch, every nerve, every shift on her lips, the flush running all over her features, and she conveys herself so easily. Though tense, you can tell she’s acclimating well, relishing the sensation of your cock deep inside her.

Your fingers burrow deep into her waist, inducing some pressure to make her move faster. And she does. Gets into a slow, steady rhythm, gently bouncing on your lap, giving you a glimpse of your cock disappearing and reentering her cunt. Little squats that ripple through your skin, making music of your flesh slapping hers. Spilling slick that spreads over your thighs. She’s so tight, and so positively dripping.

“Oh God—oh shit—” you mutter, resting your head on her lithe chest, admiring the view right beneath her head. You’ve almost forgotten she’s an alien with how well she fucking rides you.

“Should I stop?” Wonyoung asks, slowing her hips to a near crawl.

“No no. Keep going.” You look up at her, kissing on her neck, your bodies entangled in a passionate embrace. The bed begins to rock as she picks up the pace in return, crashing against your cock in violent waves that push your willpower to its absolute limit. “You feel so fucking incredible, Wonyoung. So fucking good—”

Even as you’re drowning in rapturous ecstasy, you get a sense that her face is loosening into a smile at your comment. You’re leaving marks on her neck and her collarbones—marks that will never truly disappear, even if she washes them away.

Her body, on the other hand, is going erratic. Rough. You lean back, content to watch helplessly as she rides herself to oblivion. Her fingers dig into your belly, forming small punctures in your skin. Fucking the words out of her mouth freely, throwing caution to the wind: “Fuck—fuck me—I love it—”

You can’t take it anymore.

Still, you try to endure, to stave off the knot in the pit of your stomach, desperate to savor what little time you have left. At the rate you’re going, Wonyoung’s going to incapacitate you a new one. Brain full of static, it’s only a matter of when, not if. Gears turning everywhere in your body, vision blurring out again, a familiar sight—

And it ends abruptly, just like that.

Balls deep in her cunt, your loud groan bounces around the four walls of this tiny bedroom, with Wonyoung sinking herself down to your hilt. Her chest heaving, your breaths heavy, it’s all too much. The hefty load of cum you blast inside her is alarming. Spilling onto the sheets, onto your thighs, keeping you bound together to the soul.

After quite the experience, Wonyoung’s all rosy cheeks and sweet smiles. As if she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

She carefully shifts herself off your lap. Thick streaks of your cum keep your bodies together, until they gradually break apart. Staring at the ceiling is the only way you’ll make sense of this, and even after, you don’t know whether you’ll regret it or not.

“I don’t sleep,” she says, and that’s all you needed to hear.

You cup her cheek, kiss her, and climb over her as you start making out into the dead of night.

—————

“We have to go.”

Wonyoung’s voice stirs you awake from deep slumber. Hours have gone by and the last thing you remember is kissing her on the couch between your last orgasm. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by the bright silhouette of her slim figure draped in a white bathrobe leaning forward in front of the window, peeking through the curtains.

Gathering your bearings, you join her in scouting the situation. It’s dire. Half a dozen black vehicles parked outside the hotel with sunglasses-wearing agents asking everyone about seemingly suspicious activities, backed by men in hazmat suits wielding some kind of extraterrestrial radar technology similar to the one your friends were using.

Then you turn to one of the clocks, and realize you’re already 30 minutes late to the meeting point.

You face Wonyoung with a look of great concern and unease. “Shit.”

There’s no time to waste; your friend has already sent a few texts saying he’s already at the rendezvous as recently as 20 minutes ago. Going down to the lobby through the main points would be the stupidest decision you’ll ever make, and you’ve had your fair share of blunders. The last thing you’d ever want to happen is for Wonyoung to use her powers and blow your already failing cover, so that option is off the table too. The only way you’ll both make it out in one piece is through one of the fire exits and marked escape points.

“I don’t think your powers are gonna get us out of here,” you tell her, hastily packing what little belongings you have. “And I think it’s for the best that you don’t use them.”

“How come? Just give me a chance. I promise I won’t mess everything up.”

“How do you think they know we’re here?” you question her, unconvinced with the idea that she can somehow control her powers overnight. “It’s because they’re aware of your presence. Two random incidents of a similar nature happening overnight?”

“They were both accidents, okay? I’ve got it under control. Trust me.”

You still don’t buy it, insisting she keep her powers in check, at least for now. “Fine. But only when I tell you to. And only when I tell you to. Got it?”

Wonyoung nods, delighted that she’s gotten through you—even a little.

Taking the girl with you, you slip into the nearest fire exit of your hotel room’s floor, scurrying down the stairs as fast as you can.

By the time you reach the ground floor, you learn from Wonyoung that the exits are a labyrinth in and of themselves. You can be found anywhere at any given time. Your safety comes at a difficult choice: to rely on blind luck, or to give her the green light to use her powers.

Turning to Wonyoung, you can see her pleading with her eyes. To let her do her thing. The risk is far too great given the circumstances. And God knows if they’ve got an elaborate plan to isolate her and capture her, making your escape efforts all for naught. Nevertheless, you have to act quickly.

Backed into a corner, you give her a little nod, the signal she needs to shine.

And Wonyoung truly shines. As in, she tells you to cover your eyes before emitting a powerful flash of energy bright enough to cover a several mile radius. Even through your hands, the light proves to be blinding. Even as the dazzling gleam gradually fades out, you find it difficult to see, let alone walk straight.

Then you feel a sharp tug of your hand, your feet dragging along by its pull, before you realize what’s going on and you just start running. No other thoughts, only run, run like your life really depends on it. Eventually, your eyes meet daylight, and your sense of sight is properly restored.

She did it. Wonyoung got you both out of there completely unscathed. And she doesn’t collapse, doesn’t faint like she usually does after exerting herself. A miracle.

“What did you do?” you ask her, to which she replies with a gummy smile:

“Kept all their electronics and radars down for a while. Give or take, I’d say we have 30 minutes to an hour. They didn’t know what hit them, and they never will.”

That’s more than enough time for you to make your way to the rendezvous point on foot a few blocks away.

She turns herself into her liquid form, disappearing right before your eyes, but not without giving a request that you’re more than willing to do. “Lead the way.”

—————

You find your friend waiting by the restaurant’s entrance, bored out of his mind with all the waiting. He immediately spots you and rises from his seat, visibly frustrated. The poor guy went out of his way to travel from the countryside at your behest. “Man where the fuck were you? I’ve been here for almost an hour.”

“Sorry,” you tell him, pausing to catch your breath after all the running, your legs sore and aching. You’re still human, after all. “Got held up on the way. You know how it is.”

“Never changed after all this time, eh,” he quips, shaking his head, a little cross. “I should have expected this.”

“Fuck off, dude,” is all you can say, patting him by the shoulder. “I’m just glad you came on short order.”

“So you’re all alone? I thought you said you had someone with you.”

Looking around, Wonyoung is nowhere to be found. You weren’t all that worried; if there’s anyone who could look after themselves, it’s most certainly her, but the slight possibility of her capture still creeps in your mind.

Then you see her emerge from behind the corner of the store, waving at both of you. She’s hiding her face behind your sunglasses, her favorite accessory. “Hey boys.”

“Is that her?” Your friend points a finger at the woman, taken by surprise. “I didn’t know you finally had a girlfriend.”

You laugh the comment off. It was only a one night stand, you’re telling yourself. “She’s—not my girlfriend.”

“Really?” It sounds too good to be true, especially when he looks at her, a perfect match. “She’s certainly your type, all right. How long have you been dating?”

Nervously laughing, you struggle to answer right away. “Well—it’s only been—”

“Two days.” Wonyoung answers for you.

“Two days?” Your friend pops an animated expression, taken aback by the response. “No wonder my boy is down horrendous. My man got into his first relationship and already wants to take her for a cross country road trip.”

She smiles. Regardless of the situation, the one constant is the reassuring gleam of her lips. The moment it disappears, you know something has gone wrong.

Amused by his own remark, his ego partially stroked seeing that he’s made Wonyoung snicker, he hands you the key to his car, a four-door estate wagon. “I’ll need him back in seven days. Grandma’s gonna be mad if she finds out it’s not in her garage.”

That’s more than enough time for you to let the heat around you die down. Perhaps find the answers to many of your burning questions, and maybe change Wonyoung’s mind.

Giving him a friendly dap and a hug, you nod. “Thank you. Really.”

“Hey hey, no need to act soft in front of your girl,” he jests, turning his gaze to the woman, smirking, before facing you again. “Just don’t wreck the thing, all right? Especially after what happened to your apartment.”

He can’t help himself from poking fun at you when you’re already down. Even though it’s only been a day, the apartment explosion feels like a lifetime ago.

Hopping into the driver’s seat, Wonyoung waves your friend goodbye as you drive off, his shape shrinking smaller before disappearing entirely as she looks through the side-view mirror. The destination? Only God knows where. Even when she asks, you simply brush her aside, turning on the radio to keep the mood inside the car less awkward. One thing’s for certain: you’re never coming back here again.

So you drive. As much as you can, only stopping for the occasional refuel. The farther you go, the safer. It’s the only way you can keep Wonyoung safe. From cities to highways, from crowds to empty roads. Eventually you no longer get reception on your phone, rendering all forms of communication impossible. Hours pass; day turns to night. Wonyoung opens the sunroof to get a clear view of the starry skies, the pass of comets and shooting stars.

They’re calling to her. Her eyes gleam and dilate, as if the cosmos is speaking to her.

Pulling over at an empty motel, you can’t quantify how far you’ve traveled. But seeing as you’re surrounded by nothing but desert, you figure that’s enough distance to go off-radar. As you try to walk in, Wonyoung remains staring upward, stuck in one of those deep states again.

You call out her name, but to no response. A few moments later, she seemingly snaps from her daze, turning to you, but without saying a word.

Looking up to the stars, you ask her what’s going on. As you did to her earlier, she brushes your concerns aside, telling you there’s nothing to worry about and to focus on settling down for the night.

So you get yourselves a room, unsurprisingly with only one bed. Seeing as Wonyoung herself said she needs no sleep, you figure you can rest easily.

But you can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s cuddled up so close against you, your eyes only fixated on each other. With your gazes alone, you’re both saying a lot without uttering anything at all. She makes the first move, a quick peck of your lips, before immediately pulling away, and just like that, you’re completely disarmed.

Both of you being near naked already makes it easier.

You like Wonyoung when she bounces on your lap, gently moaning between hops and thrusts, every part of her ripped to shreds as you fuck her. She loves it when you run your fingers down her slender frame, brushing her long flowing dark hair, kissing her tummy and chest, taking solace in her warmth. Her pussy fits you like a glove—perfectly snug, perfectly yours. You love it when she’s making these incomprehensible sounds in your ear, delivered in the most saccharine tone you’ll ever hear. She loves it when you tell her she feels so fucking good, so fucking tight—loves it when you gasp in desperation, unable to break free from suffocating hold, resulting in your rapturous climax.

And it hits. Sends devastating shocks all over your body.

“God—please, let me cum all over that face—” you rasp, using the last of your willpower before your orgasm fully consumes you, calling to her gracious side, but to no avail. Wonyoung takes you for every drop you’re worth, riding you hard while you lean back on the headboard, staring down her tight figure, her stomach contracting between every crash of her hips on yours. She’s so consumed by pleasure to hear you, her eyes shut, biting down on her lip to keep herself muted as she keens out cries of ecstasy.

Even as your cock withers, she can’t bring herself to stop, instead using her powers to spring you back to life for longer. Her lust completely swallows you whole, so much so that you eventually fold and share in her passion, using each other’s bodies till you both give out and keel over.

—————

The day after, as you’re about to leave and drive to who knows where, Wonyoung grabs your hand and stops you. “We should go here,” she says, pointing out a specific area on the vehicle’s GPS. In what appears to be the middle of nowhere, being several hundred miles away.

“How come? We can’t drive there overnight,” you tell her. In a faster car, it’s possible, but your friend’s family wagon wasn’t built for speed.

“That’s fine. We don’t have to hurry, we just have to get there in 5 days.” She uses the built-in GPS to measure the average distance and speed required to reach her intended destination, and you see she’s right again.

You finally put two and two together, realizing this is where she’ll likely be picked up by her fellow aliens. You obviously don’t tell her that you know, because you know it’ll be best for you to keep silent about the matter. And if they leave without a hitch, it’ll most certainly mean you can return to a normal life sooner. You’re already dreading the days ahead. When she’s no longer with you, you’ll have nothing to lean on. Thinking about living without her bothers you greatly. At some point, you might try to change her mind and make her stay. You recognize that for your own sake and hers, it’s best that you part ways, but it doesn’t change the fact that letting go hurts. Maybe there’s a better solution that doesn’t involve having to say goodbye.

So keep those thoughts in the back of your mind, only focusing on the now. Making the most of her presence while she’s still around, but still keeping other options on the table.

The next few days follow a near-identical pattern: you drive nonstop, only pulling over for fuel, until you reach the next rest area by nightfall. Every night spent with Wonyoung is exploring each other’s bodies, putting her in positions you never thought you’d ever be doing with your favorite idol. At this point, you’ve deluded yourself into thinking it’s the real her, especially as she’s come and fully adjusted herself to earth’s culture, finally nailing her mannerisms and speech. Whatever you want to do, she happily obliges. Whether it’s on the desk, in the shower, on her knees, between her legs, or from behind—for anything and everything, Wonyoung willingly submits. It doesn’t help that her powers keep you up all night, and you’ve never felt any better waking up every single morning than with her by your side.

For the first time in your life, you feel like there’s someone who truly cares. Someone who makes you feel special, makes you feel alive. Now you understand that this was a fated encounter, destiny coming to pass. Intentional or not, she was meant to provide something meaningful: a purpose.

The realization hurts. You’ve already accepted that you have to let her go. You know that when she leaves, you’ll be left with nothing. And that makes it worse.

While Wonyoung sleeps peacefully in your arms, you give her a soft peck on her temple, gently brushing loose strands of her hair. Looking at her sweet face, you can’t help but start sobbing. Fighting back the tears as the end draws near, remembering what your friend said, to keep a cool face while she’s around—

But you can’t.

Your quiet sobs go unnoticed. Looking out the window from the bed, the sky appears dark and gloomy, with bright flashes of lightning passing between clouds.

The earth is going to cry on your behalf.

—————

You’re wishing the days lasted longer, but here you are, pulling up at the intended destination with hardly any drama. Like most of where you’ve been travelling these past few days, everywhere you look is nothing but empty desert and the occasional tree, even down to the tumbleweeds. As it turns out, you’ve arrived a few hours ahead of schedule. That’s what happens when you’ve been driving on empty roads. Admittedly, it’s a nice change of pace compared to the city. Less noise, less annoying people on the streets.

“So this is it, right?” you ask Wonyoung as both of you are stepping out the car, searching for any signs of life. Nothing. You might be the only two people to have ever willingly stepped foot on this place, considering this doesn’t even have a name on any GPS, map, or on Google Earth.

She nods in agreement.

“We’re just gonna wait here until something happens, right?” you add, almost slipping out the notion that you know she’s going to leave.

Having gone a few steps ahead of you, Wonyoung looks over her shoulder, catches you leaning by the car’s hood. “You’re going to miss me a lot. I will too.”

Your eyes go wide. Of course she knew all along. Either that or you’ve never been the best at keeping secrets.

“So what happens after? Will you try to exterminate all of us?”

“Truthfully, I have no clue.” Wonyoung turns around and approaches you. “We may be an invasive species, but we do not act until our judge gives his word to attack. But the chances of us sparing a planet? Next to none.”

“So you’re saying the odds are low, but not zero,” you remark, finding some solace in the fact. You’ve seen miracles happen, and you’re not referring to her.

She takes her place beside you on the car’s hood, drawing out a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of her pants. The same ones you’ve given her. Putting them on you, she says, “Protect your eyes, babe.”

Even now, Wonyoung makes you smile. Under her watchful eye and with her powers, she makes sure you’re not burning up under the sweltering sun. The last memory she wishes to impart with you is a reminder of all the good experiences you’ve shared with her. That in the end, she’s about as close to the image you’ve envisioned in her head.

No matter how distant she may be, you belong to her and she belongs to you. Your love for Wonyoung stretches out wider than anything in this universe.

Eventually the sun sets, and day turns to night. The entire time, you’ve never let go of Wonyoung—not until she says so, and she’s more than comfortable staying in your arms. You could honestly cuddle up with her like this no matter how long, God willing. She’s all you need to feel complete.

As the stars in the night sky come out in full force, Wonyoung gently disentangles herself from you as her body glows with a familiar pinkish light. Putting some distance away from you, she begins levitating off the ground. Large waves of dust begin to spiral in a circular direction, separating you further from her. You can’t see through the cloud of dirt other than her bright gleam inside the widening cloud.

Wonyoung floats higher and higher above the ground, met in the air by a faint silhouette in the shape of a UFO. It uncloaks itself and reveals its massive size, larger than the average commercial aircraft in every department. She gradually transforms into a form more resembling the aliens you’ve seen in other media; an incomprehensible silhouette of clear white energy.

Though you can barely fathom Wonyoung’s appearance, you can tell she’s looking down at you as her and the spaceship rises even higher. No matter how much you’ve been preparing for this moment, you’re still not ready to say goodbye.

All of a sudden, you hear gunshots. Ear-deafening pops and crackles. The roar of other vehicles quickly approaching. You look, and a half-dozen black SUVs are moving angrily towards the direction of the ship, with agents firing from their vehicles. Right on their trail are a pair of white vans. Stopping a few feet from where you’re standing, men in hazmat suits emerge from the vehicles and quickly grab hold of you, pinning you to the ground.

One of the men in biohazard suits is holding that same alien exposure radar you’ve seen before. “Dangerous levels of extraterrestrial radiation,” he remarks, evaluating his finding on a tiny screen. “You have no idea what kinda threats we’re facing. Who knows what these aliens have already done to you.”

Another agent is holding what appears to be a deadly weapon with the intent to kill. “Nothing personal, but this is for the good of our planet.”

There’s a lot happening all at once. On one hand, the alien is still high above the ground, seemingly frozen mid-air, along with their spaceship. On the other, you have several dozen government agents from an unknown branch trying to shoot the two entities down. And then there’s you, moments away from becoming forgotten forever because you spent a whole week with said alien.

You never wanted any part of this.

As the agent prepares to strike you down from behind, the bright glow in the sky flashes a blinding, colorful gleam of energy, drawing everyone’s attention—including yours. The alien descends down to earth by herself. Transforming into Wonyoung, her eyes gleam bright white, her body surrounded by a wave of power.

One of the commanders shouts to his men to open fire at her, but she takes no damage from any of their weapons. She lifts her hand, creating a pulse that sends everyone flying back, helping you escape your captor’s binds.

She steps forward and approaches you as you get up from the ground, but the agents won’t quit. Without concern as to you getting caught in the crossfire, more weapons are used, but she casually generates a force field around herself.

Her body is charging up with a colorful flash of energy, threatening to destroy them all. The only thing keeping her from ending everyone’s existence is your voice calling out to her.

“Stop. Please.”

In that moment, she sees you running toward her, and the fiery glow surrounding her weakens.

Suddenly, a loud bang rips through everyone’s eardrums. It’s a bullet aimed toward her, except your head is standing in the way.

Mere inches from ending your life, time comes to a complete standstill. Including you.

Wonyoung floats over to you, sees the tears in your eyes, your mouth wide, crying out in desperation. To keep her from going down a dark path. She interlocks your hand with hers, placing her lips against your ear, giving you a gentle kiss.

It’s a bittersweet sound. “Goodbye.”

The last thing you see before your world goes dark is a radiant flash of light. A glimpse of heaven.

—————

You expected paradise to be a land flowing with milk and honey, not a sandy beach along the coastline.

You also expected no pain, no more suffering, not a mild headache as you wake up. So no, you’re not there just yet. But this place might be the closest heaven can be on Earth.

The sun shines directly overhead as you wander around aimlessly in your new surroundings, confused and still reeling from whatever happened in your dream. Luckily, there’s civilization nearby, people included. A welcome sight for sore eyes.

Approaching a man who appears to be waiting for a bus, you go on and ask him, “Do you know where we are?”

He looks at you as if you’re a crazy person for asking such a question. “Eh? You don’t look like you’re from around here. We’re in Lagos, man.”

“Lagos?” Your eyes widen at the response, as equally as confused as he is. The bus arrives in time for him to leave you high and dry, but you follow him inside, still trying to make sense of where you are.

You ask the bus driver the same question. He gives you the same answer. You really are in Lagos. In a completely different country. A stranger in a strange land.

Upon arriving at the nearest town, you try to give the driver his fare, only to realize you’ve got the wrong currency on hand. But you still pay anyway, nonchalant about the amount, hoping off before he gets a chance to question you.

Soaking in the sights and sounds, the locals are conversing in a language you can’t understand. Even the signs are also a challenge to read. Why you’ve been transported here, you have no idea.

But not all hope is lost. Mercifully, the ATM you find still happens to be completely English. Checking your savings account, you can’t help but stagger back at how much money’s left. It’s more than enough to set you for this life and in the next.

In any other circumstance, you would have been pinching yourself, trying to wake up from this fantasy. But it’s not a dream. This is reality.

You’re in a better place compared to yesterday.

—————

It doesn’t take long to acclimate to your new life.

You learn the native language. You open up a small bakery in the heart of the city. The locals quickly accept you as one of their own; you’re in good company. For the first time in a long time, you feel at home.

When you’re not working in the city, you spend your nights staring at the beautiful sky. The little house you’ve bought resting on the hillside is ideal for stargazing. It also helps that Lagos is still a quaint, humble city compared to the metropolises of yesterday. Every now and then, a shooting star flies by; you’re wishing one of them is her.

You’d happily trade it all for a heartbeat. Just one more opportunity to see her again.

Several months go by. You read the announcement: she’s coming to Portugal for the first time, bringing the rest of the group along with her. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her in concert, so of course you’ve already got the day and date marked on your calendar, as well as the best seats in the house.

She’s still the same person you’ve envisioned in your head after all these years.

At points, you get a sense that she recognizes you with her occasional passing glances. Brief moments in time where you’re taken back: moments that you’ve never forgotten, not in the slightest. But that’s what they ultimately are: fleeting glances.

She may not even be looking at you to begin with. Still, a guy can dream.

After the show ends, you’re ready to move on. Live your life like everyone else. You’re no longer fettered by the past; you’re going to leave it all behind. Everything is new.

As you’re about to open the door to your car, you hear a gentle, familiar voice calling to you.

“Hey.”

You turn around. What you see leaves you completely stunned. Lo and behold, it’s Wonyoung. The real Wonyoung. Live and in living color. Smiling, standing a few feet away by herself, carrying an air of sweet innocence.

You can’t help but drop your car keys.

“I don’t think I know you, but I feel like I should." She picks up the keys off the ground, placing them back into your hand. "Let me get to know you.”

—————

(A/N: In case you're wondering where I've been for a month, it's because of this! This is the longest fic I've ever written, clocking in at barely under 15K words. I've had this idea of a first contact/alien story ever since Supernova Love released (the song and Wonyoung herself fits the tone/concept I was looking into, a godly being not from this planet), so this has been in the works for quite some time. I got way too invested in the story that the smut ended up half-baked, but I hope you enjoy the overall narrative regardless. I considered just posting this without the smut (as I had written the whole plot and edited before even writing a single word of smut, but still wanted to add some fanservice XD). Anyway, I'm looking forward to IVE Empathy; not a big fan of Rebel Heart, but knowing IVE, their title tracks never miss.)

(I'd like to give special thanks to @msafterhours for helping me with the ending, as well as offering general advice in fixing the narrative; this is my favorite fic I've written since Too many nights in part due to the greater emphasis I placed on the plot and characters. Thank you for reading!)

#kpop smut #ive smut #wonyoung smut #ive #wonyoung

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