#but i love a good small town/mystery au

[kwanisms]

Otherworldly — l.minho

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ alien!Minho × f!Reader wc: 29.2k (I have absolutely no explanation lol) summary: While watching a meteor shower with her best friend, Y/N witnesses a UFO falling from the sky and crashing on her family's farm. The two rush to the wreckage site and find an alien spacecraft with a rather mysterious survivor. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural and alien themes, s2l; non idol au, alien au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Minho is not from Earth so he doesn’t understand a lot of things, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1, @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: uh... yeah. I have no explanation or excuses to give you. I just couldn't stop writing. It happens lmao but I'm totally in love with this Minho. I want this Minho tbh. Thank you so much for reading and if you liked it please reblog or comment! I love reading your feedback! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (aliens have no concept of contraceptives but you should use protection), tentacles, alien genitalia, double penetration (f receiving), praise, anal (f receiving), Minho is more concerned at first about the anatomy but he goes pretty animalistic in the end. Let me know if I missed anything!

dialogue prompt: ❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜

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The worst thing about living in the middle of nowhere wasn’t the isolation. It was the lack of anything to do. You hated living on the outskirts of a small town in the middle of the country but it was all you knew. Growing up, your imagination took over, allowing you to play till your heart's content but as an adult, entertainment was much harder to come by.

You’d grown up on a farm, you’d lived that life and even though it was in your blood, in your roots, you still longed for more. For something bigger and brighter. You dreamed of life in a big city where you lived a busy work life and hung out with friends at clubs in high rise buildings.

Your life was a simple one but you longed for complexity.

The only thing you truly loved about living out here in the middle of nowhere was the endless view of the starry night sky. On a cloudless night, you could see thousands upon thousands of stars littering the endless black of night. It had been your favored view since you were small. Your mother had always shown an interest in the sky and she passed that love onto you, showing you endless books about space, the solar system, and the universe. Books that got more complex the older you got.

You learned everything from the most basics up to the complexity of supernovas and even black holes. Your mother taught you everything she knew, which was more than you could have ever hoped to learn on your own. Your mother had graduated top of her class from a prestigious university. She was from a small town and while back home, visiting family and attending a state fair, she’d met your father and it was love at first sight.

Not long after their wedding, you and your sister had been born. Your parents moved the family to your dad’s old family farm to take over when your grandfather had to be put in a nursing home until his ultimate passing. Your grandmother lived just a little longer but in the end, you knew she died of a broken heart, passing as peacefully as one could.

Your father had grown up on a farm as well and it was in his blood, too. He’d taken to teaching you and your sister everything he knew about farming and animal keeping. Though you didn’t have many animals. A few cows, a couple of pigs, and a handful of chickens. In addition to the farm animals, you had a couple farm dogs, an elderly one who spent most of his days lying on the porch and a younger one who was much too excited to jump into action at the slightest disturbance.

Your barn was also inhabited by a family of barn cats which kept the mice and rats at bay.

Sure, your life was simple and while you didn’t mind it, you still wanted more.

The only person who seemed to really get you was your best friend, Jake.

You met Jake when you were in kindergarten. He had stolen your crayons during coloring time and later at recess, you’d pushed him over on the blacktop earning a timeout but if felt good. From then on, he not only asked to borrow your crayons but he also became your best friend.

You did almost everything with Jake. And you’d gotten into a fair amount of trouble with him, too.

It’s not like he was a troublemaker but when the two of you were put together, you became a pair of troublemakers. Alone you were tame but together you were menaces.

The first time you’d gotten into trouble was when Jake distracted the teacher in biology, allowing you to let the pet frogs escape from their enclosure. Chaos ensued as the class erupted into screams as several students tried to chase the escapees down. Ultimately, it landed you and Jake in detention but you wouldn’t take a single thing back.

When Jake got his first car, he picked you up and the pair of you went on a wild ride which ended with you crashing into Farmer Dan’s field and mowing down a line of his corn. Your best friend took the heat, allowing you to escape and return home without any trouble.

He always had your back and you always had his.

“Did you hear the news?” you asked as you sat on the hood of his jeep, Jake leaning back against the metal with his hands behind his head as he enjoyed the mid autumn sunshine. Jake was always outside, especially in the summer as he worked and helped his dad’s construction business. He had a perpetual tan which he liked to show off with sleeveless tanks.

Now, however, autumn was in full swing and the weather was chillier. He wore a light sweatshirt with the local university’s logo on it. You were both enrolled and the first semester of your last year of college was underway. You had opted to study biology while Jake was going for civil engineering. He initially didn’t want to attend but his father insisted he get a proper education and live a better life.

Your family was supportive of your efforts but your father often mentioned how your degree would come in handy in the family business. You didn’t want that though. You wanted to pursue a degree in zoology after graduating.

You wanted more than a life on a farm.

“What news?” Jake asked, not opening his eyes as he basked, reminding you of the lizards you used to catch as a child. The ones that liked to lay on rocks in the sun and warm up. “The shower,” you replied, picking at the sleeve of your sweater, pulling off the little pilled up threads. Jake opened one eye, looking up with you. “What shower?” he asked, forcing a knowing smile from you.

Jake was about as country as they came. He loved everything about small town living and farm life. He liked to spend summers mudding with his buddies, swimming in the creek, and working hard. The two of you had grown into opposing forces but you always heard people around you saying “you know how opposites attract” and it couldn’t be more true for you and your best friend.

“The meteor shower,” you clarified, dropping your hands into your lap and looking down at him. He opened his eyes, giving you his full attention. “I think Julia said something about it,” he answered before giving you a knowing look. “You want to watch it, don’t you?” he asked.

You nodded excitedly, lips spreading into a smile. Jake sighed dramatically before propping himself up on his elbows. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “I’m in,” he nodded. “But,” he added, pointing at you with his index finger. “I’m bringing the beer.” You rolled your eyes. “Fine,” you answered.

“Tonight, then,” you started. “Come over after dinner,” you said as you slid off the hood of his car. “And we’ll go up to the hill.” You started towards the house as Jake sat up and gave you an exaggerated salute.

“Sir, yes sir!”

The rest of the day passed in a blur as you went about your chores, helping your mother with the laundry, making sure your sister did her homework, and helping cook dinner. Your dad had parked himself in front of the television at just about six, turning on the news and watching the broadcast.

You overheard the news anchors talk about the meteor shower and smiled as your dad called you into the room. “You know about this?” he asked, gesturing towards the tv. You nodded. “Yeah, Jake is coming over later and we’re gonna watch it,” you answered, noticing the way your dad seemed to light up at the mention of your best friend.

Your parents had only had you and your sister and while your dad loved you as much as any parent, you knew he would have loved to have a son. A mini version of him to play ball and rough house with. Instead, he got two girls who nearly beat him up every time he tried to wrestle. Two girls who kicked his ass at baseball and teamed together to take him down when playing football.

You knew your father had no regrets about having two girls and no son but he had that bond with your best friend. Just two guys who could sit around and watch the game even if they were rooting for separate teams. If your dad had his way, he’d jump at the chance to have you marry Jake.

You weren’t interested in him like that however. Jake was your best friend. He was like a brother to you. The thought of marrying him was foreign and you never once entertained the idea. Your parents certainly had, dropping subtle hints at you whenever the subject of marriage or the future came up.

“I like that Jake boy,” your dad said as he settled back into his seat.

“He’s not a boy anymore, dear,” your mother called from the kitchen as you moved back into the room to help her with dinner. “He’s a man now.”

Your dad hummed in agreement as he continued to watch the news, greeting your sister as she walked into the room. “Smells good, mom,” she said as she moved to lean against the kitchen island. You resumed cutting veggies for your mom as she manned the pan.

You lightly slapped your sister’s hand as she tried to grab a piece of one of the veggies you were cutting. “Knife!” you warned her as you resumed cutting. She pouted before you picked up a piece of carrot and held it up, ready to toss in her mouth. “Girls, don’t throw food!” your mother lightly chastised as you tossed the carrot into your sister’s mouth and she raised her arms.

“And it’s good!” she called as your dad changed the channel to the game.

Your mother rolled her eyes, still smiling as she continued to stir the contents of the pan. “Add those in here,” she instructed. You shot your sister a wink as you lifted the cutting board and carefully pushed the veggies into the pan where they started to sizzle and mix with the meat.

As your mother finished cooking, you and your sister set the table and called your dad in. He grumbled and turned off the television and joined you in the dining room as your mother carried the pot in. She set it on the table in the middle, warning your dad it was still hot.

You moved to grab the basket of rolls and butter keeper as your sister filled the glasses with water. Once everything was in the dining room and everyone had a glass of water, you joined your family, sitting across from your sister. Your dad briefly said grace before adding in a cheer for his favorite football team and you started to help serve dinner. As always, a home cooked meal was delicious, especially since it was your mother’s cooking. Everyone always said their mother was the best cook but you truly believed it. Your mother was arguably the best cook in the entire world.

Minho sighed, looking out the thick glass into the infinite nothingness. It had been about a month since he left home and only a day or so since his last space jump. Checking the mapping system, his latest jump put him somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant. Since then, he’s been flying through, passing by Sol X, IX, VIII, VII, VI and Sol V. These were planets he’d learned about as a child.

Seeing them in person was like something out of a dream. He’d seen most of them on a screen or in a hologram but seeing the planets up close was more than he could have ever hoped. He’d learned about the Great Milky Galaxy and all its solar systems and that one in particular, the Sol System, was home to intelligent life.

Never in his life had Minho ever expected to travel this far, especially alone. He stared in awe out the window as he flew through the seemingly nothingness. Except it wasn’t empty.

He’d made it past the plants and past the Sol Asteroid Belt and was closing in on Sol IV when his ship started sounding an alert. “WARNING, WARNING,” the female AI voice said. “ENTERING THE DETECTION SYSTEMS OF SOL III. APPROXIMATE TIME OF DETECTION 3 DECAMINUTES.” Minho groaned as he reached for the switch for the comms system. “Shut up, Stan!” he snapped before switching the communication system off and tried to focus on flying.

Stan was the name of the AI computer that was installed in most space flight craft like the one Minho was currently flying. It stood for Steolla Transmission and Navigation. Starships and fleet crafts had a different AI computer. 

The thing about AI systems is that no matter how many times you turn them off, they can just turn themselves back on. The screen flickered back to life, displaying a sad face. “Why are you so mad at me, Minho?” the voice asked. He sighed heavily and continued to fly, noticing that Sol IV was slowly coming into view.

“I’m just trying to focus on flying, Stan, so if you don’t mind. Please stop talking,” Minho said as he watched the rust red planet come into view. “Okay, Minho,” the computer said before falling silent. As he neared the red planet, Minho started to slow. “Actually, Stan, can you tell me more about Sol IV?”

The computer came to life, the screen displaying a smiley face. “Certainly, Minho! Sol IV, known to locals as Mars, is the fourth planet from Sol, the star at the center of the Sol System. Known for its rust red color, Sol IV is covered in soil rich in finely grained iron three oxide, also called ferric oxide, dust. This inorganic material is what gives Sol IV its red color. It is the second smallest planet in the Sol System and the farthest terrestrial planet from Sol. Sol IV has a thin atmosphere made primarily of carbon dioxide and has two irregularly shaped natural satellites: Phobos and Deimos.”

Minho looked down at the red planet. “Small?” he asked softly. “Indeed,” Stan said. “Mars is approximately one eighth the size of Ninsa,” Stan replied. Minho said nothing but started to accelerate, passing the red planet and heading towards Sol. Despite the fact that Sol IV was smaller than his home planet, from his position, it looked huge.

“Entering Sol III space,” Stan said as Minho neared a round dark rock. “This is Sol III?” he asked, sounding disappointed. Stan spoke up. “Oh, goodness no. This is Luna, also known as the Moon. It is the natural satellite of Sol III.” Minho slowed, turning and dipping the steering, maneuvering around the moon.

As he did so, his eyes widened, the bright blue and green of Sol III coming into view. His lips parted in a silent gasp. “Is… this Sol III?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stopped accelerating, slowing the ship and leaning forward, resting his arms on the top of his steering column.

“Correct,” answered Stan. “This is Sol III, also known as Earth, Terra, Tellum, and Gaia.” Minho let out a breath. “It’s pretty,” he noted. “Indeed. The blue you see is the ocean which covers seventy point eight percent of the surface of the planet. The remaining twenty-nine point two percent of Sol III’s surface is land, most of which is located in the form of continental landmasses. Most of the land is somewhat humid and covered by vegetation while large sheets of ice at the polar deserts retain more water than all of Sol III’s groundwater, lakes, rivers, atmospheric water combined.”

Minho listened intently as Stan went on, describing the planet in detail.

“Sol III’s land is part of the planet’s crust, consisting of several slowly moving tectonic plates, which interact to produce mountain ranges, volcanoes, and earthquakes, much like Ninsa. Sol III has a liquid outer core that generates a magnetosphere capable of deflecting most of the destructive solar winds produced by Sol and also protecting the inhabitants from cosmic radiation.”

“So it’s not much different than Ninsa,” Minho said, a smile forming. “Correct,” Stan replied. “Though Sol III is much smaller than Ninsa. It is twice the size of Sol IV.” Minho chuckled, looking down at the planet. “Tell me more,” he ordered.

“Certainly, Minho.”

Through the computer, Minho learned about the atmosphere of Sol III and how it sustains life, protects the planet from meteoroids and UV-light. “The composition is primarily nitrogen and oxygen,” Stan explained as Minho stared at the orb floating in vast nothingness.

“And what about the inhabitants?”

While you ate, your mother asked your father if he’d finished packing and he nodded silently. “Honey,” your mother said in a knowing tone. Your father smiled sheepishly before shrugging. “I’ll do it after dinner,” he replied. You took a sip of water and smirked at your little sister.

“How long will you be gone this time?” your sister asked. “A week,” your mother answered. “Just like last time?” you asked, looking up from your plate as your mother nodded, taking a bite of her food. She swallowed before replying. “Yes, so you’ll be on your own for a week.”

You looked from your mother to your father. “You mean we, right?” you asked, nodding towards your sister. Your mother shook her head. “Your sister is going on a camping trip with her friends,” she answered. You glanced at your sister who smiled back. ‘Camping trip my ass.’

“So don’t burn the house down,” your dad joked. You chuckled and shook your head. “I might not be inside much,” you reminded him. “School and all that,” you added. “Don’t you have a week off?” your sister asked curiously. You glared at her.

“Why do you have a week off?” your mother asked, turning to look at you. “Some kind of professor planning thing,” you answered, lifting your glass to your lips. “It’s not a big deal.” You took a couple gulps of water before speaking again. “I’ll probably spend a lot of time with Jake or something,” you added.

After dinner, your sister and you helped clean up, washing the dishes and setting them aside to dry. “Why did you have to rat me out like that?” you whispered as you worked side by side. Your sister shrugged. “I thought you told them.” Shaking your head you handed your sister a soapy plate.

“I don’t tell them everything, you know,” you said softly to which your sister scoffed. “I don’t!” you insisted. Your sister rolled her eyes. “You so tell them everything,” she replied as you pulled the plug and allowed the soapy dishwater to drain before starting to spray the sink down.

You glanced over your shoulder where your dad was watching the game and turned back to your sister.

“I never told them that I lost my virginity,” you whispered before leaning back as your sister looked up at you shocked. You smirked at her and turned to walk away, leaving her to finish her side of the sink. You walked down the hall to your parents’ bedroom where your mother was packing for their trip.

“Shouldn’t dad be doing that?” you asked, causing her to look up. She smiled at you as she continued to pack your father’s clothes away for him. “I love your father,” she started as she placed neatly folded shirts in the suitcase. “But he’s terrible at packing.”

You chuckled as you moved to the bed to help her. Your mother smiled up at you as you folded shirts and handed them to her to pack away. As you worked quietly, you couldn’t help but admire how much your parents loved one another. Not everyone was lucky enough to meet someone and marry them, let alone be with them for a long time.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door followed by your dad calling your name.

Your mother smiled and took the shirt in your hands. “Go,” she said gently. “Have fun.”

You shot her a grin before heading out of the room and down the hall to the foyer where your best friend was standing, talking to your dad. “You ready?” Jake asked, perking up when he saw you. You nodded. “Let me just grab a hoodie from my room.”

You climbed the stairs quickly, darting into your room and grabbing your university hoodie. As you passed your sister’s room, you leaned into the door frame. She was lying on her bed on her stomach, playing with her phone as you watched her. “Have a good time,” you said, causing her to look up suddenly. “Be safe,” you added. “And don't do anything dumb.”

Your sister rolled her eyes but smiled at you. “You too,” she said. “Don’t do anything dumb with your boyfriend,” she said mockingly. You picked up a pillow from the chair by the door and threw it at her. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you retorted. “He’s my best friend.”

You called a final goodbye to your sister before dashing down the stairs where Jake was waiting. You called a goodbye to your dad who got up and walked over, pulling you into a hug. “Have fun, be safe,” he said before letting you go.

Outside, the sun had almost fully set. You climbed into the jeep as Jake got in and started the engine. The drive to the hill didn’t take long and soon, Jake was pulling to a stop and parking the vehicle. You quickly got out, pulling on your hoodie and climbing onto the hood of his jeep as he came around the drivers side with a cooler which he set on the ground.

“You want one?” he asked as he opened the cooler and grabbed a can. You shook your head and he shrugged as he climbed up. “Suit yourself,” he said softly as he opened the can and took a sip. He leaned back against the windshield and looked up at the sky.

“When’s it supposed to start?” he asked. You grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes,” you answered, turning your attention back towards the sky. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, staring at the starry sky as the lights twinkled down at you from millions of miles away. Your thoughts were swirling in your head.

You were turning the words over in your mouth until you finally spoke.

“I’m leaving Derrey.” Your voice was so soft you weren’t sure Jake had heard you but when he sat up quickly, you knew he had indeed heard you.

“You’re leaving?” he asked softly. You nodded, turning your head to meet his gaze. Even in the low light of the setting sun, you could see the shock, confusion, and hurt cross his face. “Why?” he asked softly. “I’ve gotten early acceptance at the university in the city,” you answered, glancing down at his knee sticking out of a tear in his jeans.

“That’s… amazing,” he said, sounding suddenly excited. You looked back up. The negative emotions on his face were replaced with a smile. “What are you going to be studying?” Relief flooded your senses. You’d expected him to be upset with you for leaving him behind. You’d expected him to be mad.

“Zoology,” you finally answered. “I want to help animals,” you added. Jake smiled at you, one of his hands moved to cup your cheek. “You’re going to do big things, Y/N,” he said softly. “You’re going to be amazing.” You smiled, your cheeks growing warm.

In the corner of your vision, you saw something streak across the sky and turned quickly to see a meteor burn out. “It’s starting!” you said excitedly, sitting up straight and watching the sky, not noticing the way Jake’s smile fell before he also looked up at the sky.

“So Terrans have existed for approximately six million years?” Minho asked, looking from the planet to the computer. “Correct,” Stan answered. “And how long have Ninsans existed?” Minho asked as he started to slowly take the ship out of its suspended state.

“The first Ninsans appeared approximately 5 million years ago. They are directly descended from ancient humans, cross bred with Gorians to produce a genetically modified species and then selectively bred to create a pure strain,” Minho reached for the comms switch, flipping it so it cut off Stan mid speech.

“Save me the history lesson, Stan,” he said as he took hold of the controls, scoffing as the AI switched back on. “Sorry, Minho. It’s in my programming.” Minho shook his head as he started to fly around the moon, keeping Sol III in his line of sight. “We should not get closer,” Stan warned as Minho flew in.

“Shut up, Stan,” Minho argued. “Sol III has planetary defense systems in place. If we are detected, they could fire on us,” Stan continued. Minho rolled his eyes. “We’ll be out of here before they can detect us,” he said softly. “We will be spotted by the International Space Station.”

Minho slowed the craft. “The what?” he asked, looking at the computer screen as a rendering of some sort of spacecraft appeared. “The International Space Station is the largest modular space station in low Sol III orbit. The ongoing project involves five space agencies: the United States’ NASA, Russia’s Roscosmos, Japan’s JAXA, Europe’s ESA, and Canada’s CSA,” Stan explained.

“The ownership and use of the space station is established by intergovernmental treaties and agreements. The station serves as a microgravity and space environment research laboratory in which scientific research is conducted in astrobiology, astronomy, meteorology, physics, and other fields. The ISS is suited for testing the spacecraft systems and equipment required for possible future long-duration missions to the moon and Sol IV.”

Minho glanced at the blue planet and back at the screen. “You’re telling me, the inhabitants of Sol III haven’t been to Sol IV?” he asked incredulously. “Affirmative,” Stan answered. “Humanity has not yet developed the necessary technology for interplanetary travel. Humans have only visited their only satellite. They have had successful fly by missions past the other planets in their system and have sent multiple rover expeditions to Sol IV. The first manned mission to Sol IV is projected to happen within the next decade.”

Minho shook his head, a smug smile appearing on his face. “How is it, Ninsans have been around for less time but are more advanced?” he asked softly, not really expecting an answer. Stan, of course, had an answer for everything.

“Ninsans have been aided in their technology by Gorians. Humans have developed their technology on their own,” the computer replied. “You have been fortunate enough to be born in a world where deep space exploration is possible. Humanity did not have that help.”

The smirk on Minho’s face dropped slowly. He sat back in his seat, pursing his lips. “Fine,” he said flatly before reaching for the controls. Just as the tips of his fingers touched the wheel, the lights in the cabin went red, a warning sound emitting from the speakers.

“WARNING!” Stan’s voice said suddenly. “You are entering a field of meteors.” Minho grabbed the steering wheel and looked out the starboard side window. “What?” he hissed, seeing a cluster of comets hurtling towards the planet. “We haven’t even moved!” he exclaimed.

“Turn around and go around the planet to avoid collision and detection.”

“Shut up, Stan!” Minho said, flipping the comms switch. “I’m not going back. That’ll take longer. I’ll just go through,” he added as he adjusted his straps. The computer flickered back on. “The odds of surviving a run through a meteoroid field are—” Minho flipped the switch and sighed. “Don’t tell me the odds,” he grumbled as the computer switched back on.

“Minho, you must turn back now. This is the largest meteor storm in Sol III’s history. If you fly into it, you will get hit!”

Minho cursed, hand moving to fiddle with the controls. “I thought I told you to shut up, Stan,” he snapped as he tried to turn off the AI again. At the same moment, he took his hand off the control, a meteor whizzed past his shield and he cursed, moving his hand back on the control and continued to fly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he yelled as he started to navigate the field, avoiding the meteors plummeting to the planet below. Another meteor zoomed by, disturbing his flight pattern and causing the ship to shake violently. “Shit!” he cursed again, diving below to try and avoid another meteor.

“WARNING. WARNING. COLLISION IMMINENT. TAKE DEFENSIVE MANEUVER TO AVOID COLLISION!” 

Minho swore. “SHUT UP, YOU STUPID COMPUTER!” he yelled, trying to dodge the space rock. He managed to fly around it but suddenly the entire ship rocked as no doubt another meteor hit on the right side of the ship. Electricity crackled, the screens distorting for a moment from a small surge in power.

“WARNING. WARNING. FLIGHT PATH COMPROMISED. LOSING ALTITUDE.”

Minho grabbed the controls again and flicked a couple switches, trying to adjust his orientation. One of the screens flickered red with words that made his stomach sink. “THRUSTERS FAILED TO ENGAGE.”

Alarms started blaring as another screen went red. “MULTIPLE SYSTEMS FAILURE,” Stan read aloud. “Shit,” Minho hissed. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He quickly started to fiddle with the controls, hoping if he redirected power, he might fly out of this mess.

“WARNING. ORBIT TOO STRONG. UNABLE TO PULL AWAY FROM SOL III. ABANDON SHIP. ABANDON SHIP!” Minho growled, hitting the top of the console. “Shut UP, Stan!!”

He pulled back on the wheel, hoping to point the nose of the craft up and while he was able to, the ship was now careening out of control, plummeting towards the blue planet. “Stan!” Minho called, looking at the computer screen that flashed red and a sad face appeared. “Yes, Minho?” Stan said, voice breaking as the ship started to enter the atmosphere.

“What do I do, Stan?”

The computer was silent for a moment before answering. “Raise the sun shade,” the computer finally answered. Minho flipped the switch, watching as the metallic screen raised, covering his view. “Okay,” Minho said.  “Now what?” Stan was silent for a moment.

“Take hold of the steering apparatus,” the AI instructed. Minho did so, grabbing it firmly. “Okay! Now what?” he asked. Stan was silent for a beat longer than last time. “Scream and hold on, Minho,” it finally replied.

“There’s nothing else you can do.”

“Which one is that one again?” Jake asked, pointing towards a star. You turned your gaze to see which one he was pointing at. “The bright orange one?” you asked. He nodded. “Yeah, that one,” he confirmed. “Uhhh, that looks like… Betelgeuse,” you replied.

Jake looked from the sky to you. “Beetlejuice? Like the movie?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“No,” you answered. “Betelgeuse. B-E-T-E-L-G-E-U-S-E,” you spelled it out for him. “It’s a mispronunciation of the original Arabic name. There was an error in a 13th-century reading of the Arabic initial ya as ba. So as a result, the European name is Betelgeuse,” you explained. “It’s part of the Orion constellation.” Jake turned his attention back on the star. 

“And what about that one?” he asked, pointing at another bright star. You squinted, looking at the star in question. “Oh, that’s Aldebaran!” you said excitedly. “Oldie what?” Jake asked. You rolled your eyes, laughing at him. “Aldebaran,” you repeated. “It’s also derived from Arabic,” you explained.

“It’s a red giant, so it’s a lot cooler than our star but it’s forty-four times larger than the Sun.”

Jake’s eyes widened comically. “Wow, that’s big,” he said, nodding. “What’s the name again?”

“Aldebaran. In Arabic, it’s al Dabaran. It means ‘the follower’ because it seems to follow Pleiades,” you explained, pointing to a cluster of lights near Aldebaran. “And what constellation is it part of?” Jake asked. “Taurus,” you replied quickly. You’d been waiting for him to ask that.

Jake smiled, turning his head to look at you. “Which constellation is your favorite?” You thought for a moment. What was your favorite constellation? There was always draco, a favorite of your mother’s. But then there was Ursa Major. Scorpius was another really neat one.

As you thought of your choices, one stood out to you. You turned to look at your best friend.

“Vulpecula,” you answered. His brow furrowed as a look of confusion washed over his face.

“What?” he asked, making you laugh out loud again. “Vulpecula,” you repeated. “It’s a fox.”

Jake sat up straighter, looking up at the sky. “Where is it?” he asked. You shook your head. “It’s not visible from here this time of the year,” you explained. “Oh,” Jake responded, slumping down. “The meteors are picking back up!” you exclaimed excitedly, pointing up at the sky.

Sure enough, more fiery streaks were darting across the sky, some of them lasting longer than the others. “Uh,” Jake said suddenly, looking around. “Are we safe here?” he asked, looking at you. “Of course,” you answered with a nod. “Most meteors will burn up in the atmosphere. Very few ever get past the mesosphere,” you added, giving him a reassuring smile.

You watched as more flashes streaked across the sky. As you were watching, you noticed something… different. It was like two meteors had collided. “Whoa, did you see that?” Jake asked, sitting up quickly. You looked over at him before back at the sky. You had seen it. You just weren’t sure what you had seen.

“What was that? Did two meteors hit each other?”

You shook your head slowly, watching the sky for any other sign. “I-I don’t know,” you stammered.

To your surprise, there was another flash in the sky. Like another collision. ‘What is that?’

Before you could voice your thoughts, you watched in a mixture of shock and disbelief as something fell from the sky, heading in the direction of your farm. “Y/N,” Jake said, his voice unsteady as he slowly scooted towards the edge of the hood of the jeep.

“What is that?”

You watched as the object flew in an unsteady and jerky pattern as it descended, a trail of fire behind it as it entered the stratosphere. “Y/N,” Jake said, a little louder. “What is that?!”

You couldn’t find your voice as the object continued to fall from the sky, sailing over the hill where you sat and headed for the woods. It was large, dark, and rounded. Not unlike a meteor but it looked almost… smooth.

You and Jake watched as it crashed into the trees, breaking a path into the woods where it eventually hit the ground with a resounding boom and the ground shook slightly. You turned to look at Jake who turned to look at you.

“What the f—”

You cut your best friend off by jumping off the jeep. “DID YOU SEE THAT?” you exclaimed, pointing in the direction of the woods. “Y/N,” Jake said as you ran to the end of the hill where it started to slope down. “Y/N, where are you going?”

You turned back to see Jake still seated on the hood of his jeep. “Are you coming or not?” you called. Jake shook his head, sighing as he slipped off the hood and moved around to the driver’s side, picking up his cooler and placing it back in the backseat.

“Come on,” he called back, opening his door and climbing in.

You scrambled up the hill to his jeep, yanking open the door and climbing in as he started the car and turned the headlights on. “Why couldn’t we just have a nice quiet night?” Jake whispered as he put the car in gear and started to drive down the hill and back towards the dirt road that led to your property.

The ride back took no time and as soon as Jake pulled onto your drive, you directed him to the edge of the woods, undoing your seatbelt as he put the jeep in park and cut the engine. “Y/N, wait for me!” he called as you jumped out of the vehicle, shutting the door and hurrying for the edge of the woods, Jake following reluctantly behind you.

Navigating the woods proved to be harder than you expected even with your phone’s flashlight. Jake had thankfully grabbed the flashlight from his glovebox and was leading the way in, helping you traverse over fallen logs and ditches. You passed a small portion of the creek and hurried up the embankment until you stood at the top, holding a tree for support. In the distance you could see sparks of electricity and broken branches. “It’s here!” you called as Jake started to climb up the embankment and join you.

He shined the light in the direction of the craft and whined as you started down the hill, using the thin trees to break any falls until you were on even ground and closer than ever to the object you’d both witnessed fall out of the sky.

“Y/N! Wait!” Jake called as he hurried down the hill after you.

You didn’t listen, instead pushing on, scrambling over a fallen log until you were within spitting distance of the strange craft. “Holy shit,” you heard your best friend gasp as he reached level ground and shined his light on the craft. You turned to look at him, a wide smile on your face.

“Can you imagine if we discovered the first known aliens to visit earth?” you asked, sounding much too excited for your best friend’s liking. “Stop,” he said sternly. “It’s probably some military craft. Don’t touch it!” he yelled, waving the flashlight in your direction.

You ignored him as the beam danced around, reaching up a hand and hovering it over the wall of the craft. Deciding to take the plunge you pressed your palm against it and… nothing.

You expected it to be hot but it was cool to the touch. And the material was smooth, metallic but still somehow soft. Not malleable like clay but still soft like silk almost. You kept your hand on the craft as you walked around to the front or what you assumed to be the front. There was no break, no windows, and no door. Whatever this was, there was no way into it that you could see.

“Y/N please come back,” Jake called from the opposite side of the ship.

You started to walk back around, catching sight of him in the low red light emitting from what you determined to be the rockets of the ship. He seemingly looked relieved upon seeing you. “You’re going to give me a heart attack,” he called, dropping from his perch on a log.

“Come on,” Jake added. “The cops and military are probably about to be all over this place in a matter of hours. Let’s get out of here.”

You glanced at him as he neared your spot. “Since when have you been scared of cops?” you asked challengingly. Jake scoffed as he stopped, leaning against the side of the ship. “Never said I was scared,” he said. “I just don’t want to get involved with the military.”

You rolled your eyes but before you could answer, a loud hissing interrupted you followed by a loud mechanical whirring and to Jake’s horror and your delight, a door started to open, materializing in the smooth surface of the ship’s exterior wall.

“Y/N!” Jake hissed as you leaned down, waving your hand to try and clear the smoke that billowed from the open orifice. “Don’t get too close!” Jake added, taking a couple steps as you tried to peer into the open door. You glanced back at Jake who looked back at you, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a drone?”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the door only to fall back, a scream emitting from you as a dark figure stumbled from the doorway. Jake fell back, tripping over a log as he tried to scramble away from the mysterious figure.

You watched in shock as the figure stood up and started to walk away from the craft, heading towards the back and looking around. You watched as the figure looked up at the sky and balled up its fists before letting out a slew of colorful curses in English.

You turned your head to look at Jake who looked to meet your gaze. The look of shock on his face must have matched the one on yours. Your eyes went back to the figure as he turned back to the craft and started to inspect the damage, muttering to itself. As it stepped closer, you noticed in the dim light emitting from inside the ship that the figure, or should you say he, looked somewhat human.

You heard the snapping of twigs as Jake got up and hurried over to your side. “Come on,” he whispered, gently grabbing your arm. You watched as the pilot of the ship raised his arm and started tapping on something at his wrist. When it didn’t respond, he let out another growl of frustration and kicked the wall of his ship.

It was at this moment, he seemed to notice the two of you.

He stumbled forward and Jake tried to pull you back but couldn’t and fell behind you. “Where am I?”

You stared up at the man, eyes wide. ‘Did he just… ask me a question?’

When you didn’t answer, he turned his attention to Jake. “Where am I?” he asked louder and more demandingly. “I-Iowa,” Jake stammered. The man took a deep breath and let it out. “What’s Iowa?” he asked. You glanced over your shoulder, meeting Jake’s gaze. He looked just as confused and scared as you felt. “What is Iowa?” the man asked again, albeit a lot louder.

You turned back to look up at the man towering over you.

Before you could answer, you noticed his body seize up and he started convulsing before dropping to his knees and falling to his side where he lay motionless. You froze, staring in shock at the body. You peered back at Jake before pushing yourself up onto your feet, squatting as you moved forward. “Stop!” Jake hissed but you ignored him.

You stopped just short of the man and hesitantly pushed his boot. His foot as well as his leg jostled but he didn’t move. You tried again but it yielded the same result.

“Is he dead?” Jake’s voice asked from behind you. You crawled closer, hovering over the man. You moved slowly, bringing a hand to his neck and pressing two fingers against his neck just under his jaw. It was faint but you could feel a pulse. You moved the same hand towards his face, holding your finger under his nose where you could feel a steady breath.

You sat back and sighed. “He’s alive,” you answered. “Just unconscious.”

“What do we do?” you asked, turning to look at your best friend as he walked over. “What do you mean? Just leave him here. I told you, the cops and military will be here soon. Let’s just go, Y/N, please.”

You turned your head back to look at the man. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, an idea popped into your head. “Let’s take him with us.”

Jake stared at you like you’d lost your mind. “Take him with us? Are you nuts?!”

You looked up at him. “We can’t just leave him here!” Jake nodded his head before reaching down to grab you by the wrist and pull you up. “Yes,” he said, starting to drag you away. “We can!”

You pulled free from his grip. “I’m not leaving him,” you retorted, standing your ground.

Jake scoffed incredulously. “Where are you going to put him?” he asked.

“My parents and sister are leaving in the morning,” you replied. “They’ll be gone for a week.”

Jake shook his head, looking around the area. “I can not believe I’m hearing this,” he said, laughing nervously. “I can’t believe this.”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Please, Jake,” you asked, forcing him to stop and look up at you. “For me, please?”

Jake sighed into a groan before throwing his hands up. “Fine,” he said. “But this is your mess. If the military comes bursting into your house, I’m not involved.”

You jumped up and down excitedly, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you said excitedly. Jake tried to keep a smile from forming. “Don’t thank me just yet,” he said as you both moved to the man.

Moving an unconscious body proved to be much more difficult than you thought and you were sure it had taken you and Jake hours to just get the body of the man out of the woods. In reality it had taken about thirty minutes. Once you’d put him in the back with the cooler, Jake drove around the house to the front door, parking as close to the porch as possible.

He got out and walked to the back as you ran up the steps and unlocked the door, opening and peering inside. The television was still on but your dad was passed out in his recliner. You pocketed your key and made your way back down the stairs to meet Jake.

“Dad’s in his recliner but he’s passed out,” Jake stared at you as you started to try and pull the man out by his boots. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he said softly. Maybe we should put him in the barn?”

You looked up at Jake and shook your head. “No,” you protested. “What if he wakes up and is scared and confused?” Jake stared at you incredulously. “This is an alien we’re talking about, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “So?” you asked. “He speaks English and displays intelligent behavior,” you replied. Jake gave you a deadpan stare. “Kicking his ship when his fitbit doesn’t work strikes you as intelligent behavior?” You rolled your eyes. “Whatever,” you retorted. “Just help me!”

Jake shut up and helped you pull the man out of the back of his jeep, taking his arms and head as you took his feet and started up the steps, trying to take it one step at a time while also trying to keep a firm grip on the man’s feet.

You managed to pull open the screen door but carrying the man over the threshold proved to be a chore. The screen door swung shut, slamming in its frame and causing both you and Jake to freeze and turn your heads to look into the living room.

Your father shifted in his recliner but continued to snore softly and you could have sighed a breath of relief only you couldn’t breathe properly. Carrying the man up the staircase was worse than carrying him out of the woods and by the time you reached your bedroom and deposited him on the bed, you were convinced you’d never have to hit the gym ever again.

“You’ve really lost it, you know?” Jake asked as he shut your bedroom door.

You waved him off, falling back onto your bed. “Just think of it,” you panted. “As a week’s worth of workouts,” you continued. “You’ll thank me later.” Jake rolled his eyes as you sat up. “You need anything else from me, you weirdo?” he asked. You shook your head. “No,” you replied.

Jake nodded. “Good. I’m out of here,” he said, turning and heading for the door.

You stopped him. “Can you bring me some of your brother’s clothes tomorrow morning?” you asked, holding your hands together. “Please? I don’t have anything that would fit him properly,” you added. Jake sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he answered. “I’ll bring something. Text me when your family leaves.”

You thanked him, pulling him into another hug and following him down the stairs to see him out.

“I’m serious though,” he added as he crossed the threshold.

“If the military comes looking for him or that craft,” he started. “I’m not involved. Make sure he’s okay and then send him on his way. You don’t want to get mixed up in this and I don’t want to see you get in trouble.” You smiled as he took your hand gently in his.

“I’ll be okay,” you replied. “Text me when you get home.”

Jake nodded, dropping your hand and heading down the steps to close the back of the jeep.

“I will! Try and get some sleep.”

You waved as he got into his car and started it, back up and waving at you once more before he pulled away.

You shut both doors, locking them and heading back upstairs, entering your room and locking it.

The man took up your whole bed so you’d have to sleep on the floor for the night. You pulled off your boots and grabbed a blanket and one of your pillows, throwing them both down before lying down and covering up with your blanket.

Sleep must have taken you quickly because you woke with a start, a dull light starting to filter into your room. You sat up quickly and saw the man was still passed out on your bed. You got up and rushed to your closet, pulling off your hoodie and changing quickly.

You could hear your sister in her room moving about. You didn’t mean to sleep this long but there was no going back. You pulled on a clean pair of sweats, pulling your shirt off and tossing it into the hamper before grabbing a clean shirt and pulling it on.

You moved into your bathroom, standing by the sink and turned on the faucet, splashing some cool water on your face before drying it and turning the water off.

Back in your room, you pushed your mud covered boots further into your closet and unlocked the door before opening it carefully and peeking out. You stepped out, shutting your door behind you and walked down the hall. At the top of the stairs you saw your parents luggage as well as your sister’s camping gear sitting by the door. You hurried down the steps and into the kitchen where your mother was preparing two travel mugs of coffee. Your sister was sitting at the kitchen island, checking her phone as she waited for her friends to come pick her up.

“Didn’t hear you come in last night,” your dad said from the dining table, reading something on his phone. “Got in kind of late,” you answered. “How was the shower?” your mother asked, looking up at you.

You turned your head towards her before remembering to speak.

“Oh! It was really cool. Apparently it was the largest in recorded history,” you said as you moved to stand beside your sister. “Really?” your mother asked as she screwed lids on the mugs. “I’m sorry I missed it,” she said softly. You forced a smile as she set the cups on the counter.

A sudden horn outside announced the arrival of your sister’s friends. “That’s Clara,” she said, getting up from her seat and slipping her phone in her vest pocket. Your mother moved around the counter to hug her. “Have a good time,” she said before letting go and it was your father’s turn to hug her.

“Behave yourself,” he said, giving her a smile. Your sister turned to you and held up her fist for you to bump. “See you later, Star Nerd,” she said with a smile. “Later sea squirt,” you replied as she moved to the door and opened it. Her friend, Clara, had sent her brother Luke to help your sister with her bags and gear. She gave one final wave before heading out the door.

“And then there were three,” your father said.

Your mother handed him one of the mugs. “We better get going too,” she announced. You tucked your hands in your pockets and watched as they headed for the door, following behind. Your father grabbed the bags and took them out to the car as you followed your mother out onto the porch.

It was a typical crisp fall morning, a thin layer of frost on the grass and breath hanging in the air.

“There’s some food in the fridge,” your mom said as your dad loaded the car. “But I’ve also left some money for delivery. Don’t throw any college parties,” she pleaded. You smiled as you pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry mom. We don’t have a pool. No one is coming here for parties,” you joked.

“Come on, hon!” your father called. “We gotta go!”

Your mom gave you one final hug before hurrying down the steps and to the car. Your father waved to you as he opened the driver’s door and you waved back, watching as they got in and settled. The car backed up and you watched as they drove off and down the drive before turning onto the main road and disappearing from view.

“And then there were two,” you whispered to yourself as soon as the tail lights disappeared from view.

Once they were gone, you darted back inside, locking the doors and moving to unlock the back door before rushing upstairs to your room and opening the door. The man was still unconscious and you entered the room, closing the door behind you and moving to sit at your desk, turning the chair so you could keep an eye on the man.

You grabbed your phone from your desk where you left it and started typing a message to your best friend, hoping he was awake. He answered rather quickly, letting you know he was on his way.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the chill in the room. You decided to play on your phone, glancing up occasionally at the man sleeping in your bed. 

You kept calling him the man but you knew that wasn't entirely true. 

He was an alien. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed as you solved what felt like the hundredth sudoku puzzle when you heard the back door open and close. You stopped, listening as footsteps came up the steps, drawing closer and closer until there was a soft knock at your door. 

You watched as it slowly opened and the face of your best friend appeared. “Is he awake?” he asked softly. You shook your head,  turning your attention briefly to the alien before looking back at Jake. He opened the door fully, stepping in and handing you a cloth tote. Inside were some of his older brother's clothes. 

Sighing, you looked up and thanked him. He nodded, not taking his eyes off the alien.

“Now that I see him in the light,” he started. “He just looks like just some guy,” he continued. “Almost like he could go to our university.” You nodded wordlessly, looking at the alien.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He definitely doesn’t look like an alien.”

You felt Jake tap your shoulder, making you glance up at him. “What?” you asked when you saw his expression. “Don’t,” Jake said in a low tone. You shrugged your shoulders as if to ask him ‘what’ but he went on. “Don’t pretend like he isn’t from here. He came out of a spaceship that looks way beyond our technologies,” he started to explain.

“He didn’t even know what Iowa was!”

You gave your best friend a skeptical expression. “Hardly anyone knows what Iowa is.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “And besides, I thought you said it was military,” you added.

Jake shook his head. “Military would know Iowa,” he answered, only for you to shake your head this time. “What if he's from another country’s military?” Jake scoffed at this. “No other country has the advanced technology we have,” Jake retorted. This time you squinted at him.

“Then why does all our technology come from Asia?” you asked, raising a brow at him. You turned back to look at the man briefly and then back at Jake. “He looks pretty Asian to me.”

Jake opened his mouth to retort but only gasped, nudging you quickly as he stared at your bed.

You turned just in time to see the man’s eyes snap open and he sat up quickly. He caught sight of you and Jake and screamed. You fell off your chair, Jake falling into the closed door, caught off guard by the sudden noise. “What the fuck!” Jake cursed.

“Where the hell am I?” the man yelled, trying to scramble away, only to fall onto the other side of bed. Jake grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. The man’s head appeared at the foot of your bed, peeking over the top of the mattress.

“You’re in my room,” you replied softly, taking a tentative step forward, shaking off Jake as he tried to grab your arm. “Why?” the man asked, watching as you approached slowly, only the bed separating you. You glanced back at Jake who shook his head quickly. “Leave me out of this.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes before turning back to the man who turned his attention from your best friend to you, giving you a wary look as you reached the bed and sat down slowly, keeping your eyes on him. “Well,” you started, not sure how to explain it.

Deciding the easiest way was the truth, you went for it. “You kind of passed out.”

The man stared at you, his eyes briefly flickering over to Jake who nodded, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, it was weird,” Jake answered. “You got real still and then fell down.”

The man looked back at you, watching as you nodded. “Yeah, you seized up, your eyes rolled back, and then you fell to your knees and then onto your side.”

The man lowered his gaze to your floral sheets before looking back up to meet your gaze. In the daylight, you could see just how different his eyes were than yours. A range of hues, almost like a rainbow but they were milky, almost as if he might be partially blind.

If that was the case, there’s no way he would have been driving— flying that spacecraft… right?

“How did I get here?” he asked, seemingly accepting your answer.

“We brought you here,” you answered, gesturing to yourself and then to Jake.

“Yeah,” Jake added. “Carried you out of the woods and put you in the back of my Jeep.”

The man sat up a little straighter, tilting his head slightly.

“What’s a Jeep?”

You fought the urge to snicker but held it back. “It’s a car,” you explained. The man turned his gaze upon you this time. “A car?” he asked, seemingly confused. You nodded. “It’s like a land vehicle? It has wheels and you drive it with a steering wheel,” you said, doing the motions of holding and turning a steering wheel. The man watched in fascination before speaking again.

“Show me.”

You picked up your phone and the man sunk down until only his eyes were visible as you googled a picture of a Jeep Wrangler. You turned the device around and showed him. The man sat back up and leaned in to look at the image.

“Jeep,” he said again. You nodded with a smile. “That’s right,” you said. “Jeep.”

“Jeeeeeeeep,” he said, elongating the double E sound, making you giggle.

“And what’s this?” he asked, pointing at your phone. “Oh, it’s just a cell phone,” you answered. “It’s like a communication device.” The man lifted his hand and pulled back his sleeve, showing you the watch around his wrist. “Is that your communication device?” you asked.

He held his arm out towards you. You hesitantly took his hand in yours and inspected the device.

It looked a lot like a smart watch. It had a massive crack in the screen and you figured it must have been damaged in the crash. “Is it broken?” you asked as he took his hand back and inspected where his palm had made contact with your skin before looking up at you with those same colorful piercing eyes.

You noticed how the color seemed to surge in a ring-like pattern from time to time. ‘Perhaps in time with his heartbeat?’ you wondered. He nodded finally, glancing at his watch. “It’s damaged. Must have happened when I crashed my-” his eyes suddenly went wide and he gasped.

“My ship!” he yelled, looking up at you. “Where’s my ship?!”

You held up a hand to calm him. “It’s okay! It’s nearby in the woods on my property.”

“I need to see it,” he said, scrambling to his feet but suddenly he doubled over, groaning. You climbed across the bed and stood up next to him. “Whoa, slow down there,” you said as you took his arm gently and guided him to sit back down as he kept a hand on his side just above his hip.

You turned to Jake and pointed at the tote he’d brought. “Bring me that, please,” you said.

Jake bent down, grabbing the handles and brought it to the bed where he handed it to you before taking a few steps back, keeping his eyes on the man.

You started to sift through the bag, pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants and a gray shirt.

You set them aside and turned to the man. “I need to take a look at your stomach,” you said, making him glance up. “What?” he asked. You nodded to where his hand was clamped over his side. “I need to look. You could be really hurt.” The man looked up at you, eyeing you up.

“Are you a doctor?” he asked. Jake scoffed from his place by the door, shutting up when you shot daggers at him with a glare. You turned your attention back to the man. “I’m in school for medicine,” you said, failing to mention your area of focus was animals and not people.

The man finally relented and let out a shaky breath before reaching up to unzip the top of his flight suit, pulling it down and you tried not to look flustered as he shrugged out of it, showing off his toned torso. He pushed the material down to his waist and you leaned around to get a look at his side.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” you asked, glancing up at him. He nodded, watching your face as you moved to kneel on the floor and reach up, fingers brushing against his skin. You gently pressed and he drew in a sharp breath. You looked up, meeting his gaze and felt your cheeks and ears burn before looking back down.

“It’s definitely bruised,” you said, starting to inspect the area around it which didn’t seem to be as tender. “Were you wearing safety restraints or anything?” you asked as you continued to prod around. He nodded, looking down where your hands were against his skin.

“I always wear safety restraints. That ship flies at almost fifty thousand decameters per hour,” he replied with a slight smirk. You slowly raised your gaze to meet his. “Fifty thousand what?” you whispered. He tilted his head curiously. “Decameters,” he answered.

You glanced at Jake who had moved from the door to the hall to the door to your bathroom.

“What the fuck is a decameter?” he asked, looking at the man.

“It sounds like ten meters,” you answered for the man. “Deca is the prefix that means ten,” you added, looking up at Jake who shook his head. “I’m not asking you, Y/N, I’m asking him.”

The man turned his head to look at Jake who took a step back upon seeing the man’s eyes for the first time. “She’s right,” he answered. “A decameter is ten meters.”

“Then why not say ten meters? Why even use decameters?” Jake asked, sounding annoyed. “Sounds like you’re overcomplicating things.”

“In my society, we measure everything in intervals of ten,” the man answered. “Sounds dumb,” Jake murmured, causing you to glare at him but the man smiled. “Sounds stupid?” he asked, drawing your best friend’s attention.

“Tell me,” the man said, turning his head again to face Jake. “Does a ship that travels at five-hundred thousand meters per hour sound like it was made by someone who was ‘stupid?’”

Your lips parted as the man spoke. ‘Five-hundred thousand meters per hour? Is that even possible?’

Jake looked even more shocked than you felt and the man knew it. He let out a little chuckle as he turned away from your best friend back to face you. “That’s what I thought,” he said softly.

You withdrew your hands from his body. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any internal bleeding,” you said, looking up to meet his eyes. “But that needs some attention,” you pointed at his shoulder where there was a decent size cut.

He looked at his shoulder and huffed. “Wonder when that happened,” he murmured as you got up and leaned in to look at his wound. “Maybe when you crashed? Might have cut it on something?” you suggested. The man shrugged. “Perhaps,” he answered.

“I’ll be right back,” you said softly and started to walk to the door. Jake’s hand wrapped around your wrist stopped you as you reached for the door. “Where are you going?” he hissed. “I’m getting the first aid kit,” you answered, glancing back at the man as he sat calmly on your bed.

“I’m coming with you,” Jake hissed but you pushed him back. “I won’t be long,” you said. “Just keep an eye on him,” you added with a nod towards the man. Jake shook his head. “No freaking way,” he whispered. “I’m not on babysitting duty!”

Before you could respond, the man spoke up.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, making you and Jake look over. He was turned on the bed, looking over his shoulder at the both of you. “If my presence makes you that uncomfortable, you can go get the first aid kit and Y/N can stay here to ‘keep an eye on’ me,” he said with a smirk.

The wink he sent your way didn’t go unnoticed by either you or your best friend. Jake frowned, letting go of your wrist. “Just hurry up, yeah?” he said, glancing at you before moving to stand by the bathroom door. You nodded and opened your door.

Like you had said, you were back in a couple minutes at most, the kit in your hand as you entered the room. The man had moved, sitting on the other side of the bed facing the door instead. “Welcome back,” he said jokingly as you entered, making you smile before you shut the door and walked over, sitting beside him and opening the case.

Jake watched as both you and the man looked down at the case. “Alright,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s take a closer look at this,” you said looking up. “Jake, can you turn on the light, please?”

Your best friend moved to the door, flipping the switch without a word. You thanked him and turned your focus back on the man’s shoulder. It was a pretty large gash but nothing was protruding nor could you see any muscle underneath which you felt was a good sign. It might still need stitches.

You grabbed the blue gloves and pulled them on before picking up an alcohol prep pad and tore open the packet. “This might sting,” you said, looking up. The man simply smiled and nodded. You started to carefully wipe around the edge of the gash.

Jake had crept closer to get a better look at what you were doing.

Once you’d cleaned the outside of the gash, you inspected the inside closer. “It looks like there’s some fibers from your suit in the wound,” you said softly. “I’m going to need to flush it,” you said, meeting his gaze again. He kept smiling at you and nodded.

“Just do whatever you need to do.”

You picked up the small bottle of saline and grabbed a dry cotton pad. “This might-”

“It won’t,” the man interrupted. “Sting. It won’t sting,” he clarified. You nodded and looked back down at his wound, trying not to focus on the hammering of your heart in your chest.

You had been so mesmerized by his eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed exactly how handsome he was and now that his face was so close to yours, it was hard not to notice.

You tipped the bottle over and squeezed some of the liquid into the wound and watched as the fibers and blood washed out and started staining the cotton pad. A couple more squeezes and you were able to get the wound clean.

Now that you could see it better, you could see that he would need stitches after all. 

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Shit,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the man said, watching your face. You looked up and sighed. “You’re going to need stitches,” you replied. “I have the materials,” you answered. “ But I don’t have any anesthesia,” you explained. The man nodded, glancing down at his shoulder.

“What about the stuff your dad uses on the cows?” Jake asked. You rolled your eyes at him. “That’s for cows, Jake. You can’t use that on people,” you explained. “But-” you shot Jake a glare, effectively silencing him. “I don’t think taking you to the hospital will be beneficial,” you continued.

The man smiled. “No,” he answered. “It would only cause problems,” he added. “It’s alright, just do the procedure.” Your eyes shot up at his suggestion.

“Y-you want me to do stitches on you without anesthesia?” you asked, not sure if your ears were working properly. ‘There’s no way he just said that.’

The man nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “It’s not going to be an issue for me. My pain tolerance is extremely high,” he explained. “Just do it please.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “O-okay,” you whispered.

“Okay, I’m out,” Jake announced. “I’m not watching you stick a needle and thread in his skin over and over. I’ll be downstairs,” he added, heading for the door, opening it and disappearing as he closed it, leaving you and the man alone.

The man looked at you with a smile. “And then there were two,” he said softly.

You gathered the suture and needle. “Are you sure about this?” you asked as you threaded the needle.

The man nodded as you moved into position. “My sutures aren’t perfect,” you continued. “But they’ll do the job.” The man smiled as you shook your hands before bringing your hand closer to his skin.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I trust you.”

Relief flooded your body as he uttered those words and you got to work, carefully stitching and tying off the suture as you sewed his skin back together. Your stitches weren’t perfect but they weren’t awful. As you finished the final suture, you set the needle and thread down and picked up another cotton pad and saline to clean the newly formed blood before picking up some antiseptic and covered the wound with it before finally covering it all with a large bandage.

“So,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” you asked, glancing up at him. You would never get used to those eyes. There was no way.

“Minho,” he finally answered, drawing you from your thoughts. “I’m Minho.”

You smiled at him. “And you’re Y/N?” he continued. You nodded excitedly. “And that man,” he added, nodding towards the door. “Jake? Is he your… boyfriend?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “No. Just my dumb best friend.”

Minho tilted his head. “What’s a best friend?”

You reached up to scratch your forehead. “You know what a friend is?” you asked, hoping he did. He nodded. “It’s that but the one you spend the most time with. Your favorite one. The one who knows everything about you and you know everything about them,” you explained.

“The one that no matter what, will always be there for you,” you continued, hoping Minho understood.

He nodded and smiled. “So best friend, not boyfriend.”

“Exactly,” you answered with a smile of your own.

Minho looked up as you removed your gloves and gathered all the used supplies to toss in your desk waste bin. As you returned to his side and packed away the rest of the supplies, he gently took your hand, making you look at him. He stared up at you with those bright eyes before his lips parted.

“Thank you,” he said softly. You offered him a kind smile. “It’s no trouble,” you replied as you closed the kit and latched it. “I may not be great at sutures yet,” you continued. “But I’m pretty decent at sewing. Maybe I could stitch that up for you as well?”

You pointed at the hole in his flight suit as he was pulling it back on. Minho glanced down at it. “Well shit,” he murmured. “That would explain the cut.” You held back a chuckle. “Are you going to sew it while it’s on me?” he asked, looking up. You shook your head before leaning across your bed and grabbed the clothes. “You can change into these,” you explained.

“And I’m sure you’ll want to take a shower. Clean up while you’re at it,” you added.

Minho nodded, grabbing the clothes from you and stood up. He wasn’t huge, probably about average human male height, even with the thick sole boots he wore. “Where can I… shower?” he asked, hesitating. You led him over to the bathroom door and turned on the light. “In here,” you answered.

You moved to the shower, pulling the rolling door aside and leaned in, turning on the stream and setting it to hot. “You can use this dial to adjust the temperature,” you explained, pointing to the handle. “And then to shut it off,” you continued and turned the handle back to the right until it pointed down.

“All the way down to the right,” you explained, looking back at Minho who was watching you with rapt attention. “There are towels in here,” you moved over to the small linen closet and opened it, grabbing a towel and handing it to him before shutting the door.

“And there’s plenty of soaps in here,” you continued, pointing at the soaps, shampoo and conditioner. “This one is for your body,” you said, pointing to the body wash. “And this is for hair,” you pointed to another bottle. “What that one?” Minho asked, pointing at the conditioner. “That’s to make your hair soft. You use it after you wash and rinse your hair,” you explained.

“And that?” he asked, pointing at your shaving cream. “Don’t worry about that,” you answered. “That’s not something you’ll need to use. Just stick with the body wash and shampoo. That’s all you should need.”

Minho nodded as you moved back to the linen closet and grabbed a washcloth and handed it to him. “That’s a washcloth,” you explained. “You use this to wash your body with the body wash. Keep this towel out of the water. You want this one dry,” you added, pointing to the towel.

You took the towel and clothes from him, setting them on the sink counter. “Just take that in there. Take off your suit and when you get in the shower, I’ll grab it and stitch up that tear in the shoulder,” you continued and moved to the door. “If you need anything, just call and I’ll see if I can help.”

You gave him a parting smile and exited, shutting the door behind you.

While waiting for the sound of the shower, you set up your sewing machine, filling a bobbin with a dark gray thread, hoping it would match.

Once you heard the shower turn on, you walked over to the door and knocked. “I’m coming in now. I won’t look at you I promise,” you announced, taking the handle and turning it. You peered in and saw the suit folded and set neatly on the counter. You stepped in and grabbed it, making sure not to look at Minho in the shower.

You exited the bathroom, shutting the door and moved over to your sewing table.

Sewing up the tear was much easier than performing surgery on Minho and once you were done, you admired your handiwork. The shower shut off in the bathroom and you decided you’d throw the suit in the wash to get some of the dirt stains out.

You hurried down the steps where Jake was sitting in the living room, watching TV. He looked up as you walked in. “Well?” he asked. “He just took a shower. His stitches are fine. I’m just throwing this in the wash for him,” you said, holding up the suit.

Jake rolled his eyes and turned back to the show he was watching.

Once you’d started the wash you walked back into the living room, placing your hands on the back of the sofa next to your best friend’s shoulder. “His name is Minho,” you said, drawing his attention. “Really?” he asked, looking up at you.

Nodding, you stood up straight. “Yep,” you replied. 

“And how do you know that?” Jake asked as you walked towards the stairs. “I asked!” you answered before starting back up the steps and down the hall to your room. The bathroom door was open and Minho was standing in the middle of your room, using the towel to dry his damp hair.

He pulled on the clothes you’d given him and you were pleased that they fit him so well.

He glanced up as you entered. “Are you hungry?” you asked. He hesitated, blinking a couple times before nodding. “Actually,” he said softly. “I’m ravenous.”

You led Minho down to the living area where Jake was still watching TV. Minho stopped behind the couch, eyes fixated on the television. You gently grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen, gesturing for him to sit at the kitchen island.

You moved to the fridge and opened it, peering inside. “Is there anything you don’t eat?” you asked, peering over your shoulder. “Anything you’re allergic to?”

You heard Jake scoff from the living room. “He’s an alien, Y/N. They don’t have allergies.”

You chastised Jake for being rude but Minho merely smiled. “No,” he answered politely. “No allergies. But I’m not overly fond of green peppers,” he added. You smiled and turned back to the fridge, grabbing the eggs, some bacon, and the steaks your mother had meant to have ready for your dad to grill the other night. ‘She won’t miss these. I’ll replace them if I have to.’

You set all your findings on the counter and opened a drawer to pull out a couple pans.

Once the skillets were heated up, you put the steaks in one and started the bacon in another. At the first sizzle of food, Jake had wandered into the kitchen and was looking hopefully at the food in the skillets. “Is that just for him or for everyone?” he asked.

You snickered and nodded. “I’m not making four t-bone steaks for one person,” you replied.

With that, you glanced up at Minho. “How many eggs do you want?” He tilted his head curiously. You picked up an egg to show him. “Do you eat them like that?” he asked, genuinely curious but his question made Jake burst into laughter as he moved to stand beside you.

You slapped his arm. “Stop being so rude!” You turned to Minho. “No,” you answered. “I’ll crack the egg and fry the insides,” you explained. Minho nodded and looked from the egg in your hands to the rest in the holder. “Five,” he finally said, catching both you and Jake off guard.

Jake was the first to break the awkward silence that ensued. “You can’t seriously believe you can eat five fried eggs and one of these steaks and bacon,” he stated. Minho’s smile turned into a smirk.

“Watch me.”

Thirty minutes later, you sat sipping on your coffee, musing over the look of shock on your best friend’s face. You both had one steak a piece. You’d made eight fried eggs total, five of them for Minho as well as a third of a pound of bacon. You’d eaten one egg and two slices of bacon with your steak, Jake had put away two eggs with his steak and three pieces of bacon.

Minho, on the other hand, had managed to consume two steaks, five eggs, and the rest of the bacon.

Jake watched with a mixture of shock, jealousy, and respect as Minho downed the rest of the second steak and the rest of his water. “I sit corrected,” Jake said softly, looking from the alien to you and back. Minho smiled at the both of you before he picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth.

“Now,” he said matter-of-factly. “Where’s my ship?”

You grabbed a jacket and one of the sweatshirts Jake brought over for Minho before letting him borrow some of your dad’s socks and shoes.

He sat in the back of the Jeep as you got in the front with Jake.

The drive to the woods wasn’t long but it was preferable to walking. Once Jake parked the car, Minho hopped out of the back and moved to your door as you opened it. He offered his hand to help you down, offering a wink as you looked up at him breathlessly.

“It’s, uh, this way,” you said, pointing and then leading the way towards the woods.

During the day, the walk took far less time and as the three of you scrambled over the ridge, the ship came into view and Minho cursed softly, carefully making his way down the slope with you and Jake reluctantly in tow.

You watched as he walked around the ship slowly, taking note of the condition before he headed for the open door and started inside. You followed, ignoring Jake’s warnings and peered into the open doorway. Minho was inside, sitting in a seat and flipping various switches.

He was murmuring and muttering under his breath as he tried to get some sort of response.

The console of the ship looked trashed, broken with wires sticking out everywhere.

Minho turned to look behind him before getting up and disappearing behind a wall. You grabbed onto a bar and started to pull yourself in. You reached the seat and craned your neck to see into the back. There was a small hallway leading through the ship to a wall with a door.

Minho was crouched in the middle of the hall, a floor panel in his hands as he inspected whatever mechanical that lay underneath. You looked around again and noticed that he had multiple monitors around the console. Silver embossed letters at the bottom read ‘S.T.A.N.’

‘Stan?’ you wondered to yourself as Minho cursed again, tossing the floor grate down and running his fingers through his hair. You felt your heart tug at his anguish.

“Is it totaled?” you asked, causing him to jump slightly. He turned to look behind at you before standing up and making his way back. “What’s totaled?” he asked as he reached the cockpit. “It’s like when you crash a car and the insurance company calculates the damage and decides it would cost more to fix than replace so they total it,” you explained.

Minho’s lips curled into a smirk. He shook his head. “No,” he said softly, one hand on his hip and his forearm resting on the back of the seat. “It’s not beyond repair,” he added. “I just need tools and a place to store it while I work on it. These conditions aren’t exactly ideal,” he continued.

You hesitated as you wracked your brain. An idea hit you suddenly. You brightened up and held up your index finger. “One second,” you said and hurried out of the ship, dropping to the ground. Jake started forward and started looking you over. “Are you alright?” he asked but you dismissed his concern.

“Does Julia still work for Ted?” Jake looked confused but nodded slowly.

“You think she could call in a favor?”

“Y/N,” Jake started but you interrupted him. “Just answer the question, Jake, please.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Ted owes her for covering his ass several times. A smile formed on your face. “Call your sister. We need those favors.”

It turned out that Ted, one of the farmers who owned an auto body shop in town, owed Julie several favors and she cashed in three of them on your behalf. You were almost beside yourself when a flatbed with an excavator and small crane pulled into your driveway. You waved and guided Ted to the old path into the forest.

He used the excavator to clear a path in the direction you led before moving the excavator back outside the forest and driving the crane into the forest. Upon seeing the craft, Ted was both shocked and also in awe at the sight. Julia had bought his silence with another one of her favors.

Ted was a professional, leaving the crane in place and walking back to get the flatbed and backing it up to the ship. Minho helped secure the bands and chains, careful not to cause any further damage before Ted used the crane to lift it.

Surprisingly, the ship lifted with no problem. Ted placed it onto the flatbed and once it was strapped down, he drove the flatbed out and Jake guided him to the barn, pushing the doors open and having him back it up.

You were lucky that your uncle had briefly ran a mechanic shop out of the barn until he left town so there was a lift and using the crane, Ted managed to secure the ship on the lift. Afterwards, Ted packed up his gear and with one final promise to never say another word about it, Ted and Julia left your family’s property, leaving you, Jake, and Minho behind.

You smiled triumphantly and even Jake couldn’t fault you for your cunning, knowing Ted would never break a promise made to Julia after she caught him doing things he wasn’t supposed to be doing on the job. 

Jake took his leave next and then it was just you and Minho.

You showed him where your father kept his tools and once the tour of the barn was over, you stood in the doorway of the barn with Minho, looking up at the gray sky.

“I think it’s going to rain,” you murmured. Minho looked from the sky to you. “Do you not like the rain?” he asked. You shook your head. “I like it when the sky is clear,” you answered. “I prefer it when I can see the stars.” Minho smiled and looked back up at the sky.

A soft meow caught both your attention and you glanced down to see one of the gray barn cats rubbing against Minho’s leg. “Sorry,” you said, moving to pick up the cat. Minho smiled and reached a hand up for the cat to sniff before petting it, even scratching it under the chin.

The cat purred in your arms at the affection before struggling against your hold and you let it jump from your arms onto a stack of hay next to the door. “Come on,” you said softly, gesturing to Minho. “Let’s get inside before the storm comes in.”

Minho looked up as you shut the barn doors, securing them and started for the house with him on your heels. “Storm?” he asked and you nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “A thunderstorm is coming,” you added. “How can you tell?” he asked. You chuckled as you climbed the steps to the door and opened it.

“Because I’m from the midwest.”

Your intuition was spot on and by the time dinner rolled around, a storm had blown in. Most of it was wind, lightning and thunder so you used some of the money your mother had left to order pizza for delivery. You chose to get two pizzas just in case.

You sat on the couch with Minho, eating pizza and watching a movie. You decided to let him pick something based on the title and cover and unsurprisingly, he picked Alien and you had to try to keep your laughter in as you started the movie.

Minho watched with great fascination as the characters experienced misfortune after misfortune and as the titular antagonist appeared on screen, his rainbow eyes wide with rapt attention.

“It’s probably highly inaccurate,” you finally said as the creature on screen stalked Ripley through the cargo bay. Minho shook his head. “No actually, it’s not far off,” he answered, making you cough as you choked on your soda.

“Wh-what?” you stammered. He turned to look at you. “What?” he asked, a smirk forming on his face. “You think all aliens look this good?” he asked jokingly. You swallowed thickly, eyes returning to the screen. “So there are… aliens like that out there?” you asked softly.

Minho leaned against the back of the couch, resting his arm behind you. “Oh yeah,” he replied. You turned to look back at him, eyes wide with shock. “Even the acid blood?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minho nodded slowly, the light from the television illuminating one side of his face. You couldn’t be sure but it almost looked like his eyes dipped down to look at your lips but as quickly as you thought you saw, his eyes were looking back into yours.

“And the d-double jaws?” you asked. Minho nodded again. “Even down to the parasitic nature. The creatures that implant an embryo in your stomach and then it erupts from your body,” he said quietly, moving his hand up to place his palm against your chest, against your heart.

“From right here,” he continued.

Embarrassingly, your heart rate sped up and you knew by the look on his face that he felt it.

“Does that scare you?” he asked softly. You shook your head, trying to be brave. In truth, the thought terrified you. That there were parasitic, intelligent, lifeforms out there in the universe like the Xenomorph.

“What if I told you that my race is like that?” he asked suddenly, face void of any emotion.

Your blood ran cold and your stomach dropped. ‘What have you done, you idiot?’ Jake’s voice came to mind, chastising you for being so dumb. Trusting an alien. How stupid could you be?

You gulped, your fear showing on your face as Minho leaned even closer. His lips parted but before he could say or do anything, a clap of thunder caught you off guard and you jumped. Minho let out a chuckle as he pulled back.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said, cracking a huge grin. You stared at him incredulously.

“Wait, seriously?” He nodded, still laughing. “At most, a parasitic life form will give you the stomach flu or something similar,” he explained. “In all my years of schooling, we never learned about any life forms like that. The most dangerous alien lifeform is bacteria,” he continued, grabbing his can of soda and downing the rest.

You studied him as he set the can down and turned his attention back to the television. You finally did the same as the movie ended, Ripley’s log playing over a starry background before the credits started to roll. You picked up the remote and stopped the movie before turning the tv off and reaching beside you to turn on the lamp on the side table.

You cleaned up and made sure the house was locked, checking out the backdoor that the animals had gone into their barn before calling the dogs in and putting them in your parents’ bedroom.

Back in the living room, Minho was standing at the front door, peering outside. You walked up next to him and he turned his head to look at you, smiling at you and watching as you locked the storm door before backing up and grabbing the main door and shutting it and locking it, turning off the porch light.

“What about the cats?” he asked softly as you headed to turn off the lamp.

“They’ll be okay,” you answered. “They stay mostly in the barn,” you continued.

“We can check on them in the morning, if you’d like,” you added as you joined him by the stairs and turning off the overhead light and turning on the light at the top of the stairs.

Minho climbed the steps behind you as you led him to the guest room and showed him around. “I’m just down the hall,” you continued, moving to stand by the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” you added, shooting him a smile.

As you started to close the door, he called out to you, forcing you to open the door and peer in. “Leave the door open, please?” he asked as he sat on the bed, bedside lamp on. You nodded and left the door cracked open before walking down the hall to your own room, closing the door behind you and finally changing into your pajamas and climbing into your bed.

It had been a long and busy day and almost as soon as you were under the covers, you were out.

It only took you a few days to get used to having Minho around. You had told him he only had a week to get his ship fixed and get out of there before your family returned. Jake came by to keep you company but quickly grew annoyed with Minho’s presence and would leave after only an hour.

You went about your daily chores, feeding and taking care of the animals while Minho worked on his ship. You checked in from time to time, bringing him water or food whenever the time struck. He could still put back a lot of food and you would have to make a note to make a trip to the grocery store before your family returned home.

“Lunch time!” you called as you pushed open the door and peered in. Minho was leaning against the work table, holding one of the cats in his arms as he scratched its head and cooed at it. You smiled as you walked further into the barn holding a plate with a stack of sandwiches and a large bottle of water.

Minho glanced up from the cat and smiled as you approached, setting the bottle of water and plate on the table next to him. The cat in his arms leapt gracefully to the floor and trotted off as Minho brushed his hands off and picked up one of the sandwiches.

He took a bite, munching happily as you walked over to the ship, looking at it as you walked around it.

“It doesn’t look like there was much damage on the outside,” you noted as you rounded towards the back of the ship. Minho spoke a moment later. “No,” he answered. “Most of the damage is internal.” You said nothing as you rounded the front and he came back into view. Two of the sandwiches were now gone. “Speaking of,” you said, walking over to his side.

“Let me have a look at that bruise,” you continued, nodding at his side.

Minho lifted his arm but continued eating his sandwich as your fingers worked to untuck the shirt he wore.

Jake had brought over some more of his brother’s old clothes. Mostly tee shirts, jeans, sweats, and a few jackets. The weather had taken a turn and it was getting colder during the days now. Minho had chosen a white tee with a small red logo on a pocket on the right side of the chest. The jeans were just plain light denim and he’d also started to use the belts Jake included for some reason. 

You lowered your gaze to his side and gently prodded the spot that had been so tender a couple days prior. Minho didn’t wince and the skin didn’t look discolored. You glanced up to find him already looking at you, watching your face as you inspected him. “It doesn’t hurt?” you asked, pressing your fingers against his side. He shook his head.

“There’s no discoloration either,” you added, dropping the shirt. He smiled at you before swallowing the food in his mouth. “My body reabsorbs blood that doesn’t make it outside the body,” he said, chuckling when he noticed your shocked expression. “I’m like you but more advanced,” he added.

He finished his fourth sandwich and grabbed the last one. Five seemed to be his number, a small detail you noticed. Five eggs, five sandwiches. “These are good,” he said, holding the sandwich up before taking a bite. “What’s inside?” he asked, pulling back the bread a little to look at the filling.

“Egg salad,” you answered as you moved back around to pick up the empty plate. Minho reached out and gently grabbed your wrist. “Leave it,” he said softly. “I’ll bring it in later.”

You smiled but shook your head. “It’s fine,” you answered, picking up the plate and pulling from his hold. “I’m used to cleaning up.” As you started to walk away, Minho called out to you.

You turned back to look at him as you reached the door. “Will you come back when you’re done?” he asked and you smiled back at him. “If you’d like me to.” He nodded slowly. “I’d like that a lot,” he replied. Your cheeks burned and you nodded back to show you understood.

“I’ll be right back then.”

Outside the barn a gray overcast had started to fill the sky. More clouds and rain were in the forecast tonight but nothing like the storms from the other night.

You took the plate to the kitchen and set it in the sink, placing your hands on the counters and stared down at the white ceramic. ‘Stop it,’ you told yourself sternly. ‘He’s an alien. He’s not human. You can’t keep feeling this way.’

Trying to tell your heart to calm down was easier said than done and you would come to find it harder and harder the more time you spent with Minho. 

As promised, you returned to the barn and kept him company while he worked, sitting cross-legged on one of the square bales of hay while he worked under the ship, reaching through an open panel and reattached wires.

“So,” you said softly as one of the barn cats came out from hiding to crawl into your lap where it was warm. You petted the animal, looking back up at Minho. “Where are you from?” you asked, drawing his attention. He managed to hook a few more wires before pushing his hair back and turning to face you.

“Somewhere really far away from here,” he answered. You fixed him with a grimace. “I know that,” you replied. “But where is that?” Minho chuckled as he moved around the lift holding his ship and walked over to sit next to you, reaching a hand out to pet the cat as it purred and snuggled up in your lap.

“Did you know the universe is split into quadrants?” he asked softly, not looking up to meet your gaze. You looked at his face, his rainbow eyes fixated on the furry creature in your lap. “Like in Star Trek?” you asked before remembering he didn’t know what that was. “Sorry, it’s a-”

“I know what Star Trek is,” he said softly, glancing up to meet your gaze. “It’s a television show from the late nineteen-sixties, right?” You nodded slowly, watching as a grin spread across his face. “You’d be surprised at the reception we get back home,” he said simply.

You waited for him to continue but when he didn’t you spoke again.

“Where is home?”

Minho stopped petting the cat and looked up to meet your gaze once more.

“So, like I said, the universe is split into quadrants. Your galaxy is located on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant,” he explained. “My galaxy is located somewhere in the Delta Quadrant.”

You listened as he explained the quadrants and their structure before moving onto his galaxy. His home world was located one of six arms of a spiral galaxy, a lot like the Milky Way. “And in the third arm, is my solar system,” he continued. “The Chronos-Demos System,” your eyes were shining as he explained and he found it so endearing.

“Chronos-Demos?” you asked, tilting your head. This was more information that you could have ever hoped to learn. Minho was from an entirely different galaxy, millions of lightyears away from Earth. He’d seen things you could only dream of.

“It’s a two star system,” he explained. “Much like Proxima Centauri. We have two suns,” he explained. Your lips parted in awe as he spoke. “Here,” he said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched as he walked over to the ship and pulled himself up, disappearing into the open door. You could faintly hear him moving about before he reappeared and dropped down, carrying some sort of tablet as he returned and took a seat beside you.

He tapped on the screen and it came to life. He started to tap around, pulling up a map and turned the tablet so you could see.

On the screen was a diagram, much like the ones you’d seen in science books when you learned about the Solar System as a child.

On one end was a large yellow sphere, solar flares shooting out from the surface. On the opposite side was an equally large red sphere, also with flames flickering from the surface. “Chronos is a class G star, a lot like Sol,” he explained before you held up a hand to stop him.

“Sol?” you asked, looking at his face. He smiled and nodded. “Your star,” he started. “You mean the Sun?” you asked and he nodded.

“In my society, your star system is called the Sol System. Sol means Sun in Latin.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you said softly as you started to follow along. “Sorry for interrupting.”

Minho smiled and went back to explaining the diagram.

“The red red star is Demos Gnu and is a class M star. I think your race calls it a ‘red dwarf,’” he said, glancing up as you nodded. “Yeah, that’s the common name but scientifically it’s a type m star,” you replied. “It has a smaller light field but produces more radiation,” you replied. Minho nodded, with a smile. “You know your stars,” he said, sounding impressed.

“My mother taught me,” you explained, a surge of pride filling your chest.

Minho continued, zooming in on the diagram.

“This little purple planet is Ahcar-3,” he said. “It’s very close to Chronos and has no life on it. It also doesn’t have a moon. This one,” he continued, moving the screen until a pink and purple planet with rings came into view with two moons. “This is Ninsa,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“This,” he said, looking up to meet your gaze. “Is my home.”

You leaned closer to get a better look. It was a beautiful planet. The surface was a swirl of light pink and purple and the rings, all five of them were a darker purple. The moons were relatively small compared to the planet, one was white and the other reddish.

“Why is one of the moons red?” you asked, looking up at the alien. He smiled and pulled the tablet back to zoom in further on the red moon. “That’s Ta,” he explained. “It’s a mining location and it’s extremely rich in iron ore,” he explained. “The soil has a lot of ferric oxide in it, a lot like Sol IV,” he said.

“Sol IV?”

Minho smiled again, setting the tablet down. “Your system, Sol, is home to ten planetary objects. Sol I, is the first one from the sun,” he explained. “Mercury,” you replied. “We call it Mercury.” He nodded. “So then Sol II is Venus?” you asked and he nodded again. “So then Earth is Sol III and Mars is Sol IV?” Minho nodded again. “Exactly,” he answered.

“So Ta is like Mars because of all the ferric oxide?” you asked, clarifying and Minho nodded again. “Precisely,” he answered before picking up the tablet again and moving the screen. The next image you saw was two planets close together. “These are the Twins, Abo Phi,” he said, pointing to the yellow one. “And Boa Phi,” he continued, pointing at the orange one. “They orbit each other as they orbit the sun and they have one moon, Odomin,” he said, pointing to the small yellow moon.

“Does anyone live there?” you asked and he shook his head. “The government of Ninsa thought about colonizing but the likelihood of the two planets colliding either with one another or their moon is too great of a risk,” he explained. We’ve sent missions and studied them extensively so we know that nothing lives there,” he continued, scrolling to the next planet.

“This one is Averlent,” he said, showing you a turquoise and blue planet. “It’s the only successful colonization project we’ve had. It was colonized over ten thousand years ago,” he explained. “So she has a thriving metropolis and more settlements have popped up. Her moon is Horim, which is a tropical world and a very popular vacation spot,” Minho explained with a smile.

“Have you been there?” you asked looking up. He nodded. “I went there with my family last season,” he answered. “Our winters on Ninsa, especially where I live, are particularly harsh. So my family spent the winter on Horim.” You smiled, imagining Minho lounging on an otherworldly beach on the moon.

“That’s so cool,” you whispered. Minho chuckled and scrolled to the next planet. You had to keep from snorting when you saw it. It was a green and oval shaped planet with a darker green and just as oval moon. “This is Planet 9,” he explained. “No one knows why it’s called that,” he added. “This system has six planets.” You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in.

“It’s the furthest from Chronos and the closest to Demos,” he explained. “You’ve probably noticed it’s not round like the others,” he continued. You nodded. “Is it spinning really fast on its axis?” you asked and Minho nodded. “Yes, and so is its moon, 1.43-C.” You laughed again, sitting up. “Reminds me of Haumea,” you noted as Minho shut off the screen.

“I think I saw that on my way into your system,” Minho replied.

You glanced down at the tablet. “Do you have any pictures of your home world?” you asked, Minho blinked at you before picking up the tablet and turning it back on. He tapped on the screen a few times before turning the screen towards you.

“This is the capital, Ninsa Prime,” he explained, showing you several pictures of a vast sprawling metropolis with high rises taller than you’d ever seen. “This is where I live,” he added as he continued to scroll through the images.

“Do you work there too?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded, turning off the tablet. “Mostly,” he added. “I’m an aerospace engineer,” he continued. “Which is why I’m confident in my abilities to fix this ship,” he added, gesturing to the craft.

“I should probably let you get back to that,” you murmured, looking down at the cat still sleeping in your lap. Minho reached out, his knuckle gently lifting your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t mind the distraction,” he said with a smile before he finally got up and headed back towards the ship.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. You kept him company until the sun started to set and you got up to finish your chores. A light drizzle had settled in by the time Minho had finished for the day and came inside the house. He had gone up to shower while you fixed dinner when there was a knock at the door.

You walked over and peered outside. Jake was standing on your porch dressed in a zip up pullover, jeans, boots, and a baseball cap on his head. You unlocked and opened the door, smiling when your best friend turned to look at you. “Hey,” he said, opening the screen door.

You stepped back to let him in. “Something smells good,” he noted as he looked around.

“Where’s ET?” he asked and your smile fell. “Will you stop that?” you asked exasperatedly, moving around him and walking back to the kitchen with your best friend in tow. “It’s a joke, Y/N,” Jake said. “Lighten up a little.” You shot him a glare as you resumed stirring your sauce.

“What are you making?” he asked, looking at the stove.

“Tuscan chicken,” you answered as you added some pepper to the sauce. “He’s still eating half your kitchen?” Jake asked, noticing the grocery bags behind you. Nodding you looked up as footsteps announced the arrival of Minho who had showered and changed.

Jake and Minho locked eyes and Jake visibly stiffened as Minho’s expression went blank before walking over and taking a seat at the kitchen island. Jake moved around to stand next to you. “Well, it smells good anyway,” he said, leaning in to whisper in your ear before turning to open the fridge.

“What are you looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Where does your dad keep his beer?” your best friend asked. “In the fridge in the garage but if you drink it, you’re replacing it. I’ve already replaced a bunch of groceries.” Jake saluted as he shrugged off his jacket, slinging it on the back of one of the dining chairs as he made his way to the garage.

“Aye, aye captain!”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to find Minho already watching you.

“Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Minho asked softly. You froze and looked back up at him.

“L-like what?” you asked. “Like he owns you,” Minho continued. You shook your head. “It’s not like that,” you replied. “Jake is just… casual,” you said, trying to find the right word to describe your best friend. Minho narrowed his eyes as Jake returned but said nothing else.

Dinner was an awkward affair with you sitting at the end of the table with Minho to your left and Jake to your right across from him. The food was good, probably some of your best but you couldn’t seem to enjoy it with the way Minho and Jake were shooting daggers at one another from across the table.

After dinner, Jake moved to the living room to turn on the TV while Minho managed to beat you to the sink, despite your protests. “In my culture,” he said softly as he pulled on the dish gloves. “The cook never cleans,” he continued, giving you a wink.

You brought the dishes to the sink and watched in awe as he cleaned and rinsed them much quicker than you or your sister ever could have. You helped by setting the dishes to dry and soon, the sink was empty and Minho was rinsing the sides and pulling the gloves off.

“You’re so… human,” you said softly as you leaned against the counter. He smiled at your words and looked up, his rainbow eyes meeting yours. “We aren’t that different,” he said, his smile faltering as he looked past you to the living room. You glanced behind where Jake was looking back.

“Y/N, could you get me another beer?” You rolled your eyes. “Get it yourself,” you retorted with a smirk. “You got two legs.” There was a silence before you heard Jake get up, presumably to get another drink. “What did you say to me?” he asked, his tone low. You turned to look at him.

He looked angry. You were taken aback. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to bicker like this before. “I told you to get it yourself,” you repeated. Jake stormed around the couch, making a beeline for you. The next series of events happened so fast you almost didn’t catch it.

As your best friend stormed towards you, Minho instinctively put his arm in front of you, pushing you behind him and putting himself between you and Jake, making your best friend freeze in his tracks. It took you a moment to realize that a deep rumbling growl was coming from Minho, the vibration coursing through his body.

You peered around Minho to see Jake’s look of shock and almost fear. You quickly moved past Minho, coming between the two. “Stop it,” you said loudly, looking from Jake to Minho. It was then you finally saw the look on the alien’s face. He was furious. His eyes had gone a distinct shade of red, brow furrowed and nostrils flared. If you’d been on the receiving end of that, you’d be terrified.

You turned back to Jake. “You should probably go,” you said softly. Your best friend finally withdrew his attention from Minho and looked at you incredulously. “You’re kicking me out?! What about psycho bastard over here?” he yelled, pointing at Minho who let out another growl.

You held a hand up towards Minho. “Stop,” you commanded calmly and to your surprise, he listened, backing down but keeping his eyes on Jake. You turned to your best friend. “He has nowhere else to go,” you reminded him. “He’s working on his ship and once it’s fixed, he’ll leave. Just be patient,” you told him. “And go home.”

Jake cursed under his breath, moving to grab his jacket from the back of the couch and headed for the door with you behind him. You threw a look back at Minho, who was still watching Jake intently. Jake stepped out onto the porch and pulled his jacket on. “It needs to leave,” he said suddenly. 

“I don’t like the idea of you alone in this house with it,” he added. You waved his concern away. “He is just fine. And he will leave when he finishes fixing his ship. Goodnight, Jake.” You shut the door and locked it, leaving your best friend on the porch.

He was starting to get on your nerves with his jealousy and disrespect. He wasn’t normally like this and you couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting so rude to a stranger. He’d never done that before. You chalked it up to Minho being from a different world. Jake was just being protective. That had to be it.

The moment the door shut, Minho was by your side, looking over you and taking your face in his hands. “Are you alright?” he asked softly. His eyes were back to the rainbow you’d grown accustomed to. You nodded silently. “I’m fine,” you replied with a weak smile.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved,” he added. “I just went into protective mode,” he continued. “I know that alcohol impairs one’s judgment.” You smiled up at him. “Thank you for wanting to protect me. Jake wouldn’t hurt me,” you continued. “He’s just mad about something. He’ll cool off.”

“Y/N?” Minho said softly, drawing your attention. “Hmm?” you asked. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

His expression was full of curiosity. Those same rainbow eyes looking back at you. “Can I ask you something?” you asked, looking down and taking his hand as nonchalantly as you could. Minho glanced down at your hands and back up, nodding.

“Why did your eyes change color?”

Minho let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly before answering. “It’s linked to my emotions,” he explained. “Your emotions?” you asked, tilting your head. He nodded before explaining.

“My eyes change color when I experience strong emotions. Rage, grief, shame, fear…” he stated. “My eyes will change depending on the emotion I experience. Red, gold, green, gray, purple, pink,” he continued, listing off various colors. “So what color is red?” you asked curiously. “Rage,” Minho answered softly. “And Gold?” Minho smiled at you. “Joy,” he replied.

“What about gray?” Minho’s smile faltered a little. “Gray is for grief,” he continued to answer.

“And what about pink?” He chuckled, lifting your hand to his face, placing a soft kiss to the back of it, making your heart flutter before he looked up. “Shame. Mostly embarrassment,” he answered. You nodded, looking back at your hands before meeting his gaze.

“What’s the color for fear?”

Minho hesitated to answer and you thought for a moment you’d messed up but he finally answered. “White,” he replied. You nodded, thinking back to the colors he’d listed off. “And what about purple?” you asked, wondering what emotion that could mean.

Minho’s smile dropped, replaced with a slight smirk as he stared back at you. You watched as his eyes briefly flashed a bright purple color before they went to pink and back to rainbow. “What’s that?” you asked, looking between his eyes. He shook his head “It’s nothing,” he murmured. Your cheeks burned as he dropped your hand, moving his hand to your waist and pulled you closer.

The heat radiating from his body was enough to drive you mad and you watched as his eyes flickered between rainbow and purple as his eyes searched your face, the hand on your waist, sliding to your hip and stopping. “Minho?” you whispered. He smiled, tilting his head. “Yes, Y/N?” he asked.

Your words failed as Minho held your gaze, his free hand coming up to your face, thumb brushing over the curve of your cheek before the same thumb moved down to brush over your bottom lip. His eyes dipped down to look at your lips before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

At first, you leaned into the kiss, your heart hammering in your chest before you pulled back, stopping him as he tried to follow. “I’m…” you trailed off, not meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I shouldn’t… we shouldn’t.”

You backed away from him. “I’m…” you trailed off. “I’m going to bed,” you said before turning and hurrying up the steps, leaving Minho to stare after you, confusion on his face.

Minho stared at the spot you disappeared, dumbfounded. Had he done something wrong? He knew that when you kiss someone it usually makes them feel better. So why didn’t it work? Why hadn’t his kiss cheered you up?

These thoughts swirled around in his head as he tried to wrap his brain around what he could have possibly said or done wrong. All he wanted was for you to feel better.

Although he wasn’t used to Earth’s customs, Minho was well aware of emotions and what they were. His people were descended from ancient humans. He understood what emotions were. Did you perhaps think he was incapable of feeling? That because he wasn’t from your world, he didn’t understand?

He slowly followed up the steps, stopping at the top of the staircase and looked down the hall where your door was shut. He had half a mind to walk to your door but decided against it. He didn’t want to upset you further. Instead he made his way to the guest room.

You must have wanted space so he was happy to give it.

Only a couple moments later when there was a soft knock on his door, Minho was confused as he answered it. You stood on the other side, having already changed into your pajamas, a plain shirt and shorts. You looked at him, eyes searching his.

“I wanted to apologize again,” you said as he leaned against the door frame. “I’m probably really confusing,” you said softly, chuckling at yourself. Minho said nothing, letting you speak uninterrupted. “We can just forget anything happened,” you said softly. “If you’d prefer.”

Minho narrowed his eyes, unable to stop the purple from surfaces as he tried to ignore your exposed thighs and the way your shirt left nothing to the imagination. He could feel something stirring inside him and if he wasn’t careful, he’d be unable to control it.

“I don’t,” he said suddenly, surprising you. “I don’t want to forget it,” he clarified.

“I wasn’t confused when I kissed you, Y/N,” he continued. “What—?” you started to ask, only for him to press a finger to your lips.

“I know you think because I’m not human that I don’t understand your feelings,” he started. “But I assure you, I understand them perfectly.” He removed his finger from your lips, placing his hand by your head on the door frame. “I’m not from Earth,” he continued. “And while I may not understand the culture of her inhabitants, Ninsans aren’t much different from Terrans.”

“You told me the other day you were sad that I’m leaving,” he said, tilting his head. You nodded, remembering the conversation you’d had a day or so ago. 

You’d grown so used to his presence that the thought of him leaving really upset you. Especially after the conversation you had today about his life and where he came from.

“We experience sadness, too. I’m sad that I have to leave as well,” he added. “I would be happy if I stayed here, with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission.

“I may not be human,” he continued, his hand moving to your cheek as he stared into your eyes.

“But I’m a man all the same. And while we come from different worlds and have different biology, we are inherently descended from the same species.”

You said nothing, merely staring back at him as he spoke.

“I understand more than you think. Like, love, desire, lust,” he continued to speak, his voice still soft. Your cheeks burned at the utterance of the last word. “They’re emotions I’ve felt before,” he added. “We aren’t that different, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning closer so your lips were inches apart.

“These emotions aren’t unique to humans. Ninsans feel them, too. I feel them, too.”

He moved ever so slightly closer. “In fact,” he whispered, his breath hot against your lips.

“I feel them… right now.”

Any response you had was taken away the moment his lips met yours again.

This time, you didn’t push him away, instead, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him against you, your chest pressing against his. His arms went around your waist, backing into the room. Your kiss turned rushed, a mess of tongue as Minho backed you up to the bed, watching as you dropped onto the mattress and backed up, allowing him space to climb on after, hovering over you.

You looked up at him, his eyes were full of want, the pupils blown wide and his irises a ring of purple again. “Do you want this?” he asked softly, searching your face.

You nodded silently, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. He moved one hand, cupping your cheek gently. “I need you to say it out loud,” he said softly. “Do you want this?”

You nodded again, this time speaking. “Yes.”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly. “I want you,” you whispered.

In one swift movement, Minho had you flat on your back, hands pinned against the bed as he hovered over you, hips between your parted thighs. “Say it again,” he breathed, his nose bumping yours gently. “Say you want me.”

You let out a gasp as you felt something brush against your inner thigh. “What is—?”

Minho leaned down, taking your lips in a messy kiss, tongue moving against yours languidly. He pulled back, only slightly, to speak again. “I told you before we aren’t that different,” he said softly.

“But in this,” he continued, the thing you felt before brushing against your thigh. “We most certainly are.

You let out a yelp as the appendage you felt earlier slipped under your shorts, pushing against your core.

“It’s okay,” Minho said softly, taking your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Do you trust me?” he asked, searching your eyes. You nodded slowly. “Yes,” you managed to breathe out. “I trust you.” Minho pressed his lips to yours once more as the fleshy appendage under your shorts pulled, starting to slide your shorts down.

Minho pulled back for only a moment to take the shorts in his hands and toss them aside before leaning back in to kiss you.

Your body shuddered as you felt the same appendage press against your panties, slowly rubbing.

Minho’s lips left yours, kissing down the side of your neck, nipping occasionally. “What is that?” you whispered, holding back a moan as Minho suckled on the skin at the base of your neck. “Promise me you won’t scream?” he asked, looking up as his hands moved under your shirt, pushing the material up towards your chest.

You nodded, glancing down at him. He sat up straight and you could see his pants were undone and two long pale pink colored tentacles had emerged. You stared in awe at them as they wriggled, one resting at your core, the other staying close to home.

You glanced up to meet Minho’s gaze. “Can I… touch them?”

He nodded, watching as you sat up, reaching out one of your hands and carefully touching the tentacle that was currently not pressed against your panties. Minho shuddered at the touch and you pulled back only for him to grab your wrist and guide your hand back.

“It’s okay,” he reiterated. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You cautiously stroked the tentacle, noticing how Minho’s body reacted when you did.

“Is this— are these,” you asked, nodding towards the tentacles. “Your… you know?”

Minho smirked, leaning in until he was inches from your face. “Are they my what?” he asked in a playfully dark tone. You swallowed thickly. “Are they your…” you glanced down at the tentacles and then back up to meet his gaze.

“Your cock?”

At the mention of the word cock, Minho let out a growl, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a heated kiss, a clash of teeth and tongue as both tentacles slipped under your panties and your ears were greeted by the sound of cloth ripping.

You whined as Minho pulled back. “That was my favorite pair!”

He chuckled against your cheek, peppering kisses down to your jaw. “I’m sorry, darling,” he cooed. You opened your mouth to retort but let out a shaky moan as you felt the tip of one of the tentacles rubbing against your slick entrance.

“Seems like you’re already properly lubricated,” he mused, watching your face as he teased your hole, prodding gently with the tip of the appendage. “You really want this?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. You nodded quickly. “Yes,” you gasped. “Please.”

Not needing to be told twice, you moaned as the tentacle pushed into you, your warm walls welcoming it with a firm squeeze. Minho let out a choked moan, pushing the tentacle further into you. “Oh fuck,” you heard him curse.

Hearing the word come from him made you laugh weakly. “What’s so funny?” he asked, the tentacle stilling inside you. “I’ve always wanted to ask,” you started, glancing up at him. “Where did you learn English?” you asked him. Minho smiled, chuckling at the question.

“I learned it from watching Friends,” he admitted. You stared at him incredulously. “Wait, seriously?” He nodded with a smirk. “You’d be surprised at the kind of reception we get out on Ninsa,” he said with a wink. Before you could respond, the tentacle started moving again, gliding against your walls with little restriction.

“F-fuck,” you groaned, back arching off the bed as he set a steady pace. “You like how that feels?” he asked softly, watching your expression. “Yes,” you whined. Minho chuckled, guiding the second tentacle to join the first. He misjudged his aim and found himself pressing against something else entirely.

You gasped, eyes snapping open. “W-wait a second!” you stammered. Minho stopped, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Can you pull it out for a second?” you asked softly. Minho nodded, withdrawing the tentacle and watching as you carefully sat up.

“If you want to put it in there, it’s better if I’m positioned like this,” you said, turning away from him to lean over, presenting your back end to him. Minho was getting a full view of your glistening sex and the smell nearly sent him into a frenzy.

Instead, he managed to keep his composure and got to his knees, quickly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. The first tentacle resumed, pushing into your cunt, making you groan, your head falling into your pillows. He took your hips gently in his hands, staring at the smaller hole. He knew what this was. He had one too. It was where excrement came out.

He also knew that some people, even his own species, enjoyed having this hole stimulated during intercourse. With that knowledge in hand, he guided the tip of the other tentacle to this hole, slowly rubbing the tip against it and smearing the natural lubricant that his tentacles produced against your skin and the appendage.

You lifted your head quickly. “Just… go slow, please,” you said softly. Minho leaned over, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pushed the tip into your hole. Your body tensed up slightly at the intrusion but a few gentle kisses and soothing words had you relaxing under Minho, allowing the tentacle to push further into your anus.

“F-fuck,” you groaned. “Feels so f-full.”

Minho felt a chill run up his spine as he started to move both tentacles moving in tandem. Your head fell into the pillows as you let out another long, low moan. Minho chuckled lightly. “What?” he asked, taking your hips in his hands. “Does that feel good?”

You nodded fervently, your moans increasing in volume with each thrust.

“Don’t stop,” you whined. “M’gonna cum.”

Despite your plea for him to keep going, Minho stopped, pulling both tentacles back until they withdrew into his pants. “What the hell, Minho?” you snapped, turning back to look at him. He simply smiled, pushing his pants down and discarding them.

Your eyes followed down his body until you caught sight of what he’d been hiding the whole time.

“Oh holy shit,” you gasped.

By his species’ standards, Minho was average at best. He’d never been commended for the size of his cock but he’d been complimented on how well he used it. He was aware, however, that the average size for a human was not the same as the average size for a Ninsan.

From your perspective, this alien was about to shove his whole nine inch long alien cock inside you. “Th-that’s not gonna fit,” you whimpered. Minho leaned over your back, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. “Just lie back for me,” he murmured, leaning back up as you turned back to face him, lying back against the pillows.

Minho hooked his arms under your knees and pulled you closer. “It’s really not gonna fit,” you protested. Minho took his cock in his hand and slapped it against your clit, making you jump and cry out. “Don’t argue with me,” he said sternly.

You fell silent as he looked down at you. His hand moved to your sex, fingers gathering your arousal before he pushed two fingers into your cunt. You let out a whine as he curled them, watching the way your face contorted. “That’s it,” he murmured as he continued to alternate between curling and pumping his fingers. “That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his fingers moving faster.

“Minho,” you whimpered, moving your hand to the back of his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. With your attention temporarily redirected, Minho pulled his fingers from your heat, taking his length in his hand and guiding the tip to your entrance and pushing into you.

You moaned into his mouth, a dull sting making you tense up.

“Shhh,” he murmured against your lips, one hand moving up to cup your cheek, using his thumb to brush away one of the tears that had formed. “It’s okay,” he added softly. “S’too big,” you whimpered. Minho took your lips in a tender kiss. “I know,” he murmured against your lips. “But you can take it, can’t you? Are you going to be good for me?”

A shudder ran up your spine before you nodded. “Y-yes,” you whined. You let out another moan as Minho pushed further into your walls, groaning as the warmth enveloped him. He’d never experienced such a tight fit before and it was making his head throb as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Fuck,” he growled, pushing further into you, holding you against the mattress as his cock stretched you open. “Shit,” he hissed. “That’s it,” he repeated. “Almost there.”

You let out a mix between a sob and a whimper. Minho leaned in, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and nose. “So close,” he muttered. “Almost there, baby.”

The pet name had your stomach doing flips and your heart fluttering. Finally, Minho seemed to stop moving and you let out a shaky breath. “Is it… are you…?” your words failed as your cheeks burned hot. “Yes,” Minho said softly, stroking your cheek tenderly. “It’s all the way in.”

As if to punctuate his sentence, Minho pulled out and gave you a tentative thrust, head falling into the crook of your neck with a low groan as you let out a high pitched moan, back arching off the bed. “It’s taking every ounce of strength I have not to start pounding into you,” he said, his voice strained in your ear. You moaned again, walls clenching around his cock.

“Oh fuck. Keep doing that and I’ll lose my mind,” he growled.

You focused on relaxing, allowing the stinging stretch to dissipate. Minho coaxed you through it, leaving soft kisses on your face and against your lips, your neck, your collar as he whispered words of encouragement. 

“You’re doing so well,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. You let out a gasp as he gave another testing thrust. “Does that hurt?” he asked softly. You shook your head, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as he gave another. “N-no,” you stammered, shaking your head.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice still low. You nodded quickly. Minho took that as a sign to keep going, setting a steady pace, growling as your walls gripped him so tightly, as if you didn’t want him to leave. “How are you so tight? It’s so warm,” he muttered, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to focus on the feeling of your warm walls completely surrounding his thick, heavy cock.

He moved his hips harder, hitting your ass with each snap. “S-shit!”

“D-don’t stop,” you moaned, fingers curling into the sheets as Minho’s face buried into your neck. “F-fuck,” he stammered. “You’re doing so well,” he grunted, his voice muffled against your skin. “Doing so well, baby. Taking me so deep.” 

You whimpered, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room with each frantic thrust. You could feel the tip of his cock so deep. Further than you’d ever felt before.

“M’close,” you gasped, one of your hands moving up to his hair, fingers tangling in his hair. “Yeah? You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Yes,” you moaned, ignoring the way the bed creaked under your bodies.

“Then do it,” Minho groaned as your walls clenched around him. “Cum for me.”

Your moans reached a high pitch, each thrust pushing you closer and closer until you finally came with a cry, tumbling over the edge. Your grip on the sheets and Minho’s hair tightened, your toes curling in tandem with your fingers as you rode out your high. 

Minho lifted his head, one hand moving to grab yours and untangle your fingers from his hair and lacing his fingers with yours as he pinned your hand against the pillow. “Look at me,” he ordered. Your eyes fluttered open, looking into his bright purple irises. ‘Sexual arousal,’ your brain finally said in your post nut clarity. ‘That’s what purple means.’

Minho’s hips stuttered as a low moan spilled from his lips as he finally came, releasing into you with three more thrusts until he stilled, burying his cock as far into you as he could. Your chest rose and fell with each breath as you stared up at him. He held your gaze until his eyes finally slid shut and he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You listened to your own pounding heart as it started to slow, your breathing starting to return to normal as Minho also tried to regain his ability to breathe. “Are you okay?” you finally heard him ask, lips brushing against your skin.

Licking your lips, you spoke, internally cringing at the hoarse sound of your own voice.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m okay,” you answered. Minho let out a huff against your skin, the short blast of air against your sweat covered skin sending a slight chill down your spine. “Are you okay?” you asked, noticing he had yet to move. He nodded, burying his face further into your skin.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “It’s a normal custom to stay like this for a while after intercourse,” he added. Your cheeks burned slightly but you welcomed his hold as he kept a firm hold on your hand, his other arm managing to snake between your back and the sheets.

It was much different than the aftercare you’d experienced. “Post sex cuddles,” you murmured, making Minho raise his head slightly. “What?” he asked softly. “Post sex cuddles,” you repeated. “That’s what I’ve heard them called before,” you added. Minho hummed softly before hiding his face in your neck again.

You stayed like that for much longer than you cared to count but as you were starting to fall asleep, Minho started to shuffle, pushing himself up to look down at you. His eyes had shifted from the purple to rainbow again. Upon seeing your face, specifically your eyes, looking back up at him, his irises flashed pinked before a smile spread across your face.

The moment your lips curled into a grin, the pink was replaced with a beautiful golden honey color. You reached up your free hand to cup his cheek. “Joy,” you said softly as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, they were still gold. “You must be really happy,” you commented. Minho leaned down, taking your lips in a tender kiss. “I am,” he murmured.

“I’m very happy. You make me very happy.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face this time as you freed the hand he held and wrapped both arms around his neck to pull him down into a hug. “You make me happy, too,” you whispered. You felt a vibrating rumble from Minho’s chest. “Are you purring?” you asked softly.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I am,” he whispered. You tightened your hold on him.

“You’re so cute.” 

Minho whined, hiding his face in your shoulder. “I’m not cute,” he pouted. You pushed him back, taking his face in your hands. His eyes had turned pink again. “You’re very cute,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to his nose. “But you’re also handsome,” you added, kissing his cheek. “And very, very sexy,” you concluded, punctuating your statement with a kiss.

Minho melted into the kiss, pressing his lips against yours with the same affection. “We should get cleaned up,” he murmured. “You’re full of cum,” he added. Your eyes snapped open. “Oh shit, you’re right,” you said as he sat up, his cock having already softened and slipped out of you.

He glanced down between your thighs and tsked, shaking his head slightly. “I’m gonna need clean sheets, too,” he murmured before getting up and walking over to the bathroom. “Stay right there,” he called as he disappeared. You propped yourself up and peered down, eyes widening at the sight of a deep eggplant purple colored liquid.

Minho returned with a towel and started to wipe your skin. “Is your cum purple?” you asked, sounding amazed. Minho looked up at you, perplexed by your question. “Yes?” he asked, not understanding why you sounded so shocked. “Is yours not?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Human cum is whitish,” you answered. It was his turned to looked shocked and confused. “White?” he asked incredulously. You nodded quickly as he finished wiping your skin and held out his hand. “Weird,” he murmured as he helped you up, guiding you to the bathroom, making sure you made it on shaky legs.

“I’ll join you in a second,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I’m gonna pull the sheets before they stain.” You nodded, starting the shower and getting in as he disappeared. He was only gone for a few moments before returning. You stepped aside as he stepped into the shower behind you. “The sheets are already compromised,” he said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before you turned to face him, your hands moving up his chest to his shoulders.

He leaned in, kissing you gently. “But the mattress is fine,” he added. You said nothing as he continued to kiss you under the stream of hot water. “I’ll come up with an excuse for the sheets,” you murmured when he finally pulled back. “I’m sure my mom won’t care that much,” you added.

“Just forward me the bill,” he joked, hands moving to your waist and pulling you closer, smiling as he kissed you. You moaned as his hands wandered. “Again?” you asked as his lips moved down the side of your neck and he backed you against the shower wall. “My energy replenishes fast,” he murmured, nipping and sucking the skin at the base of your neck.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he added. “Just turn around,” he added, using his hands to guide you to face the shower wall. “You’re insatiable,” you chuckled as you felt his already hard cock press against your back. “I know,” he retorted, taking himself in his hand and guiding the tip to your entrance again.

“I promise this is the last time,” he sighed as he started to sink into your heat, making your groan against the tile.

“For tonight anyway.”

Another day passed by with Minho working on his ship. He’d managed to put the console back together, even enlisting your help inside. You mostly helped hold things in place or hold tools while he talked about his life growing up on Ninsa. You listened with extreme fascination to his stories.

His life wasn’t much different than yours; only he grew up in a massive city but he still went to school, attended university, and went out with friends. He took vacations with his family, visited them for holidays, and even dated. It was almost as if he was human but you still noticed subtle differences that reminded you that he was an alien.

You pushed aside the door, walking into the barn with Jake on your heels as Minho worked under the ship. “Wow,” you heard Jake breathe as you walked over to the work table, setting down Minho’s lunch and some water. Today you’d made him some soup as it was a much colder day than before.

Minho shut the panel under the ship and wiped his hands on the rag he had tucked in his pocket and walked over, smiling at you as he hopped up onto the work table and picked up the bowl. “Smells delicious,” he said before digging in. You leaned against the table, watching as your best friend started to walk around the ship. “It looks like it’s done,” Jake noted, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Minho shook his head, swallowing the bite of food. “I’ve run all the diagnostics,” he started to explain, more to you than to Jake. “Everything is almost done but I’m missing a part,” he explained. Your eyes widened. “Oh no,” you said softly. “Is that… bad?” you asked. He nodded, swallowing another bite of soup. “It’s a crucial part,” he explained. “It allows fuel to reach the thrusters. Without it, I can’t even fire up the thrusters,” he explained.

“What, like a fuel injector?” Jake asked with a scoff. Minho nodded, looking at him. “Actually, yes,” he answered. Jake turned to look at Minho. “Wait, you’re serious?” Minho nodded again.

“Yes. That’s all I need. The valve spring in one of mine broke and the spray tip was crushed. I need a new injector.”

Jake looked from the ship to Minho. “Would a car fuel injector work?” he asked. Minho shrugged. “It might,” he answered. “What does yours look like?” Jake asked, tucking his hands in his jeans pockets. Minho set his bowl aside and got up, walking over to the ship and climbed inside.

A few moments later, he reappeared, dropping down to the ground and walked over to Jake, handing him the part. Jake inspected it closely before handing it back. “Looks like a JTS Jet Thrust Stoichiometric injector,” Jake said and you were thankful your friend was into cars.

Minho nodded and looked up. “Where can I find one?” he asked and Jake shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. The cars these were made for don’t exist anymore.” You slumped in your spot. “So the auto shop won’t have any?” you asked, drawing both their attention. Jake shook his head. “No,” he answered. “Definitely not. These were manufactured for the Alfa Romeo JTS engines from the early 2000’s. Those car’s aren’t in production anymore.”

Minho looked down at the part and sighed. Jake’s eyes lit up. “But the junkyard might have one,” he said suddenly. You and Minho both looked up as Jake pointed at you. “Remember last month when I got all excited about the Spider that was brought into the junkyard but Jim said it wasn’t for sale!” You nodded, vaguely remembering the conversation.

“That car will have these. It should have four of them!”

Your face split into a smile as you looked at Minho. “Up for a visit to a junkyard?” you asked.

Minho’s lips curled into a grin. “Oh absolutely,” he replied.

Knowing the owner of the scrap yard wasn’t going to just hand over the part, Jake decided the best option would be to sneak into the junkyard at night and take the necessary part. You had asked if that was going to get you in trouble since you were breaking in and stealing but Jake merely smirked as he shrugged. ‘Only if you get caught,’ he’d said.

So later that night, dressed in all black, the three of you got into Jake’s jeep and drove out to the edge of Derrey where the junkyard stood.

Minho had brought a couple tools to remove the part from the car and Jake came with the wire cutters. You felt uneasy about this but once you were at the fence, there was no going back. Jake led the way around the outside perimeter of the fence to the spot he knew would be closest to the car.

Jake cut the fence and pulled it back, allowing Minho in first, with you following and finally, he slipped into the gap and started to lead the way, your path taking you behind large piles of old rusted cars and tons of scraps, old tires and more.

It only took a few minutes to reach the car. It was a pretty candy apple red but had definitely seen better days. The pain was chipped in parts and the exposed metal was rusted. The leather seats were torn with the stuffing falling out into the seats.

“What happened to this thing?” you whispered as Jake and Minho moved towards the hood. Jake managed to find the latch and open the hood, pushing it up and lifting the holder. You looked around nervously and turned to watch as Jake produced a small flashlight and pointed it to the engine. “Okay,” he said, taking one of the tools from Minho. “Right here. Undo this part.”

You kept glancing around, feeling as if you were being watched but saw nothing while Jake and Minho worked to unhook the fuel injector system. Once it was undone and the cover removed, Jake looked down at the four injectors and smiled, looking up at Minho who smiled back. Jake handed the injectors to Minho and started to lower the hood. “Alright,” he whispered, carefully shutting it.

“Time to go.”

You had only taken a few steps when a flood light turned on, illuminating the yard. “Shit,” Jake hissed. “It’s Jim! Go, go!” he motioned for you to move. Minho moved around the car, taking your hand instinctively and pulling you along as he followed Jake’s movements. The three of you ducked behind an old rusted Chevy, listening as footsteps walked past your hiding place.

“Come on!” Jake mouthed and waved you to follow. You snuck out from behind the truck and started heading for the fence when another flood light turned on illuminating the area you were in. “Fuck, go!” Jake yelled, taking off. Minho tightened his hold on your hand and pulled you along, running quickly as he tried to follow Jake’s path. Jake managed to reach the fence and jumped, climbing over it and landing not so gracefully on the other side.

Minho turned to look at you. “I can’t climb that!” you said, panic in your voice.

A loud yell in the distance followed by barking upped your panic and Minho cursed softly, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. “Here!” Jake called, running outside the fence and leading you both to the break in the fence. You reached it but before Minho could pull it open, the dogs, two doberman pinschers, had caught up and one of them made a lunge for you.

Minho blocked the dog with his body, letting out a growl of pain as the dog’s teeth dug into his leg just above his knee. Jake managed to pry open the fence and Minho shoved you through the gap as he managed to shake the dog off and kick it away. Before either dog could take another lunge, Minho fell through the gap and Jake let the fence snap shut.

You grabbed his arm and helped him up, the three of you running from the fence as the dogs barked ferociously but trapped inside the fencing. You helped Minho hobble back to the Jeep and helped him into the passenger seat as Jake started the engine and you hopped into the back.

Jake stepped on the gas, driving back towards town, cutting through to head back to your farm. He let out a laugh, mostly out of disbelief that you managed to get away. “Holy shit,” he yelled over the sound of the wind whipping. “Talk about a rush!”

You leaned over the center console to look at Minho. “Are you okay?” you asked and he nodded weakly. “I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth. You could tell by his face, he was certainly not okay and you would look at his leg when you got back.

The drive to your house didn’t take long and Jake only pulled into drive when he was sure you weren’t being followed. Once he pulled up to the front porch, you hopped out as Minho opened the door. He tried to climb out but as soon as his foot hit the ground, he collapsed, screaming in pain.

You rushed to his side as he rolled over. Jake climbed out and walked over. “What happened?” Jake asked. “He got bit,” you said softly as you inspected his leg. “Help me get him inside.”

Jake knelt down, helping pick Minho up off the ground and slinging one arm over his shoulder as he helped walk Minho to the door. You unlocked it and held the door open as Jake guided Minho inside and to the living room. Minho grunted as Jake plopped him onto the couch.

“How did he get bit? What were you thinking?” Jake chastised Minho as you grabbed the first aid from the closet and returned to Minho’s side, flipping on the lights and starting to open the case.

“Stop yelling at him,” you said as you put the gloves on and grabbed a pair of scissors to cut open the jeans. “Those are my brother’s!” Jake yelled as you cut the pant leg of the jeans up to the knee. “I’ll replace them,” you said as you inspected the bite wound.

Jake ran his fingers through his hair as you worked to clean the wound and inspect the damage.

“What were you thinking, getting bit by one of those mutts?!”

Minho stared up at Jake, his eyes flashing between red and orange. ‘Orange? That’s new.’

“If I hadn’t taken the bite, it would be Y/N sitting on this couch instead of me,” Minho said angrily, his eyes finally settling on red. You sat up and turned to Jake. “Stop antagonizing him! I need him to be calm and still so I can clean this,” you snapped. “I don’t need you yelling at him and making things worse. If you can’t be helpful then you can just leave!”

You pointed towards the door. It was the second time you were kicking your best friend out but your priority right now was making sure Minho was okay. Jake scoffed and moved to the door. “Fine,” he snapped, ripping open the door and turning to look at you. “Tell me when the thing leaves. I’m not coming back until then.” He stepped out, slamming the door behind him.

You got up and followed, yanking the door open and stepping out onto the porch. “Don’t you dare slam my fucking doors, Jacob Willowby!” you shouted as you followed him off the porch. Jake rounded on you. “It’s like I’m not even your friend anymore!” he shouted. “Ever since that thing showed up, you’ve done nothing but give me the boot. You’re choosing some alien over me!”

“He’s not just some alien!” you yelled back, the corners of your eyes burning. “He’s my friend, too!”

Jake stared at you incredulously. “He’s an alien, Y/N!” he shouted. You raised your hands up, shrugging. “So? You’re an asshole and I’m still friends with you!” you retorted. “He’s. Not. HUMAN!!!” Jake shouted again. The commotion had caused Minho to get up and limp over to the door.

“That doesn’t make him any less of a person!” you shouted back at your best friend.

“What is your obsession with him?” Jake snapped. “It’s like you’re in love with him or something!”

You fell silent, staring at your best friend, watching his expression shift from anger to confusion as the realization hit him. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “You’re in love with him?” he asked, spitting out the word as if it was disgusting to him. “With him? You’re sick, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing incredulously.

“He’s an alien. He’s not human. It’s not like you could ever be together.”

Again you said nothing, images from the other night coming to your mind. Jake took your silence as some kind of omission and he choked back a laugh. “No fucking way,” he whispered. “Did…” his words failed him. “Did you have sex with him?”

You looked up, meeting your best friend’s gaze. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t need to. He could tell by the look on your face what the answer was. His eyes flickered behind you, anger taking over his features. “You son of a bitch!” he shouted, pushing past you and making a beeline for Minho who stood on the porch.

“Jake, stop!” you called as Jake stormed up the steps, towering over Minho, drawing back a fist. “Stop!” you screamed. Jake didn’t have a chance to land a blow on Minho before he was knocked backwards and tumbled down the steps. Minho took a step forward.

His eyes were blood red, a red aura emitting from him as he stalked forward, down the steps toward your best friend. “Stop please!” you cried out, moving forward. Jake tried to stop you but you dodged his attempt to grab you and moved to stand in front of Minho, reaching up to take his face in your hands.

“Minho,” you said softly. “Minho, baby please, look at me.”

Your voice seemed to snap him out of it and his eyes faded from the red to a white before settling back on their normal rainbow hue. You smiled, blinking back tears. “There you are,” you said softly. Minho’s arms went around you protectively.

Jake watched in a mixture of shock and horror that slowly gave way to anger as he got up. “Are you really picking him over me?” he yelled. You pulled back and turned to look at your best friend. “Jake,” you started but he interrupted you.

“No,” he snapped. “You need to think long and carefully about this Y/N,” Jake continued. “Are you really going to pick an alien over your best friend? Someone you’ve known since you were a child? Someone who’s been by your side this whole time, waiting for you to notice them?”

Your eyes widened as you realized the meaning behind Jake’s words.

“Are you seriously trying to confess right now?” you asked. Instead of sounding shocked or whatever Jake had been hoping for, you were livid. “You are so selfish!” you shouted, turning to face Jake who gaped at you like a fish. “Selfish? Me? I’m the selfish one? You were going to leave!”

You scoffed. “I was going to follow my dreams and get out of this place!” How dare he try to sell you as the selfish one when you’ve been living the life everyone has expected you to live and not the one you wanted to live. “I’m taking steps to live the life I want, not what’s forced on me. Everyone is trying to force me into a box and keep me from doing something great with my life. My parents, you, this whole fucking town!” you screamed, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just want something bigger. Something better,” you added. You felt Minho’s hand take yours, comfortingly. “Why isn’t this place good enough for you?” Jake asked. “Why aren’t I good enough for you?” You shook your head. “It’s that thing’s fault.” Jake accused, pointing at Minho.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered.

“Even if Minho hadn’t shown up, we never would have worked. I don’t feel that way about you Jake. I never have.”

Your words must have been the final nail in the coffin for Jake. The hurt look on his face dissipated into a look of resolve. “Fine,” he spat. “Fuck you, Y/N,” he added, turning and heading for his Jeep. 

You pushed Minho back towards the steps, climbing them quickly as Jake put the car in reverse and backed up, tires digging into the ground. “You’re gonna regret ever coming here,” Jake shouted, pointing at Minho from the window of his car before throwing the car in drive and tearing out of the yard, his tires spitting up dirt as he floored it.

You turned to look at Minho who looked at you. “Your leg,” you suddenly said but Minho stopped you. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he murmured. You glanced down and back up. “Let me at least look at it, okay?”

Minho allowed you to guide him back into the house and sat at the kitchen island as you looked as his leg. The bleeding had stopped but you cleaned and bandaged it all the same. Minho headed upstairs to change his clothes before coming back down. “I’m gonna put that part in the ship,” he called and you nodded as you cleaned up the dishes.

He walked over, resting his chin on your shoulder, resting his hands on your hips. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before lifting his head and speaking into your ear. “Come with me,” he muttered. You smiled, letting out a chuckle as you sprayed down the sink and removed the gloves.

“Well, now that the dishes are done, I guess I could accompany you to the barn,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Minho broke apart, pushing you back. “No,” he said softly. “Come with me.”

You stared into his eyes until it hit you just what he was suggesting.

“You mean, leave Earth?” you asked. He nodded. “Yes,” he said, one hand moving to cup your cheek. “Come with me, baby,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss your lips. You melted into his embrace before pulling back. “But what about school? My family?”

Minho caressed your cheek slowly. “If you don’t like it, I can always bring you back,” he offered, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “Though,” he added. “I don’t think you’ll want to come back. Traveling with me? Seeing the universe?” he asked. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth.

“See the universe?” you asked, a grin slowly spreading across your face. “And Ninsa?” Minho nodded, slowly swaying you on the spot. “It’s rash,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s irresponsible,” you continued as Minho leaned in to kiss you.

“I’m not hearing a no,” he whispered, lips inches from yours. You closed the distance, kissing him passionately. “Yes,” you finally said, pulling back to look up just in time to see the rainbow irises change to gold. “Yes?” he asked. You nodded, giggling when he pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you.

“I need to pack,” you said softly. “Just bring some basics,” he said as you let go and made for the stairs. Minho chuckled as he watched before heading out the door. 

He made his way to the barn, glancing up at the cloudless night sky. 

Minho climbed up into the ship, moving to sit in his chair and flipped two switches to turn Stan on. The main screen flickered on, the familiar star logo appearing in the middle of the screen before the computer started booting up.

After a couple moments, the screen turned green and a smiley face appeared in the center. “Hello, Minho,” Stan greeted him, a smile spreading across Minho’s face. “Haha!” he laughed triumphantly. "Stan!" Minho said excitedly. "Boy, am I glad to hear your voice," he continued. “Happy to be back, Minho,” the female AI voice said. 

“I need you to run full diagnostics of the ship as well as chart a course out of Sol III's atmosphere,” Minho instructed. “Certainly,” Stan replied. “Where would you like to go?”

Minho thought for a moment before an idea hit him. “Sol IV.”

You looked through your closet pulling out some basic clothing. Minho had said to grab the basics only so you couldn't pack everything. You pulled out some leggings, sweatshirts, tee-shirt, shorts, as well as underwear and socks.

You quickly rolled and packed everything before moving to grab some shoes and place them in your bag. You rushed into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush, toothpaste, and other toiletries, throwing them in the bag as well. You grabbed your phone before hesitating. Would it even work??

Deciding you could at least use it to look at pictures and take pictures, you threw it and your charger in your bag before finally zipping it shut and picking it up.

You rushed down the stairs, dropping the duffle bag by the front door before heading to the kitchen, grabbing a pen and the pad of paper that hung on the fridge by a magnet. 

You hastily scribbled a message to your parents, letting them know you were safe and that you were traveling with a friend. You placed the pad back on the fridge and ran to the front door, stopping to grab your bag and step out onto the porch. 

As you reached the top of the steps, you heard the sound of vehicles approaching and looked up to see a line of cars driving down the road. At the front was an all too familiar Jeep.

‘No,’ you thought, dropping the bag on your porch and bounding down the stairs, making for the barn. You pulled the door shut behind you and turned the light off as Minho was dropping out of the door. “Hey,” he called as you ran to him. 

“I’ve calibrated the navigational system and Stan has run full diagnostics on the ship. We are ready to go and you're not gonna believe where we're going first,” he said, grinning as you stopped, grabbing his arms. “You need to go,” you said breathlessly. 

Minho's smile faltered slightly. “Well, the ship's ready,” he replied. “We can go as soon as you're ready.” You shook your head. “I can’t go,” you started. The remnants of Minho’s smile vanished.

“What are you talking about? Did you change your mind? If so, baby-”

“Jake’s back and it looks like he's brought the whole town with him,” you interrupted, watching Minho's eyes turn white. “Then we need to go now,” Minho said, grabbing your hand and starting to lead you to the ship, looking back when you pulled from his grip. 

“I can’t go,” you repeated, feeling your heart starting to crack. Minho hurried back over to you, taking your face in his hands. “Yes you can,” he said softly. You shook your head. “I have to stall them,” you explained, fighting back tears.

Minho shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. You took his hand, pulling them from your face. “Minho,” you started calmly. He shook his head again, his eyes flashing gray before settling back into rainbow. “No,” he said again. “I’m not leaving without you!”

You moved your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay,” you whispered as his arms snaked around your waist, his face burying into your neck. 

“It’s going to be okay,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I’ll be okay.”

Minho's hold on you tightened. “I don’t want to say goodbye,” he murmured. You were the first to pull back, forcing Minho to meet your gaze. His eyes had changed to a deep sapphire blue. You reached up to cup his cheek. 

“What does this color mean?” you asked softly, noticing the way Minho tried to blink away his own tears. “It’s the color our eyes change to when our hearts break,” he said quietly. You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest as you fought back tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. Minho offered a weak smile, removing your hand from his cheek before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. “Don’t apologize,” he whispered.

“I’d rather have met you and experienced all this than not have met you at all,” he said with a smile despite the tears in his eyes. You pulled him back into another kiss, pouring as much emotion into it as you could muster.

Neither of you wanted to be the one to pull away until you needed to breathe, Minho resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breaths. 

You needed him to know. Know that you’d never met someone like him. Know that your life had changed forever the night he came crashing into it, literally. Know that no matter what, you’d never forget him. You needed him to know how you felt.

“I love you,” you whispered, eyes shut tight.

Minho let out a soft chuckle. “You can’t say things like that and expect I’ll leave you behind,” he said, his voice cracking. You kissed him softly. “You have to,” you repeated. He nodded, pulling back to look at you, his eyes a bright pink, different from the pink you'd seen when he was embarrassed. 

“What's this one?” you asked, looking into his almost neon pink irises. He reached up, caressing your cheek before answering. 

“Love,” he said softly. “It’s love.”

The sound of engines outside the barn brought you back to reality. Minho looked towards the door before looking back down to meet your gaze. “I will come back for you,” he said, taking your face in his hands. “I promise.”

He gave you one final kiss before moving to the ship as you ran to the door. You looked back to find him looking back at you, the both of you holding each other's gaze until you finally looked away to open the barn door and step outside. 

In your yard were about ten cars, the occupants shutting off their engines and stepping out. Jake was leading the group as you walked to meet them. You stopped before Jake who stared you down. “Move, Y/N,” he said. You stood your ground. 

“He’s gone, Jake,” you said plainly. Your now ex best friend scoffed.

“Don’t think you can lie to me,  Y/N,” he started. “Just step aside and let us deal with it,” he continued. You shook your head. “No,” you snapped back. “You’re all trespassing,” you called out.

“Do you really want me to call the police and have you removed?” you continued. Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Go ahead, call them," he laughed. “I’m sure they’d love to see what’s in that barn.”

You pulled your phone out and unlocked the screen. “There’s nothing in the barn,” you said as you pressed the 9 on your dial pad. You pressed the one and looked up to meet Jake’s gaze as the ground started to shake, a deep rumbling sending vibrations rolling through the grass. 

A bright light shone out from under the barn doors as Jake and the other townspeople looked on in shock. You pressed the one again and just as you did, several of the people in the crowd screamed as a loud crash sounded from behind you. 

Wood splintered as Minho’s ship tore through the roof of the barn, rising up above the structure, lights illuminating the crowd. You turned to look up at the ship as it hovered before it finally turned and shot off into the night, becoming a faint glow until it ultimately disappeared. 

That night, more than forty people called into the Derrey police station, claiming to have seen some kind of spacecraft crash through your family’s old barn. It was the talk of the town until some other scandal took its place and eventually people stopped talking about it.

You decided to finish the year at your town's local university before transferring to Columbia University, packing up and moving to the East Coast. You loved living in the big city, finding it a massive improvement over Derrey. 

You went back home during the holidays and while you saw Jake in town, your friendship with him ended completely the night he led an angry mob to your house against your alien boyfriend. 

The only thing you missed about home was the sky.

In New York, you were lucky if you saw any stars, especially on campus. Thankfully, you happened to find a nice place just a thirty minute drive from campus where you could go and see more stars than you'd see in the city. 

You’d just finished an exhausting week off work at the zoo and decided to treat yourself with some ice coffee and a drive out to your favorite stargazing location. 

Summer was coming to a close and fall was on the horizon, a chill in the air each night. You were sitting on the hood of your car, looking up at the starry sky, thinking about the last three years of your life. 

Three years since you said goodbye to Minho. 

As you were staring at the sky, you noticed what seemed to be a meteor and sat up, focusing in on it. It was flying across the sky but suddenly, it changed direction and seemed to be heading your way. 

A smile slowly spread across your lips as you slid off the hood of your car and watched as the object sailed overhead and headed for the valley behind the hill your car was parked on. 

You shook your head as you walked around to the driver’s side,  unlocking the door and getting in. You started the vehicle and backed up, turning around and following the dirt road down the hill carefully until you reached the base and started driving into the field. 

As you looked around a bright light suddenly illuminated the field and you slammed on the break, parking the car and looking through your windshield as the craft you spotted before started to descend. 

You turned off the engine and opened the door, ignoring the wind as the ship carefully set itself down and powered down. You shut the door and walked around to the front of your car, crossing your arms as you leaned against the hood. 

You watched as a door opened, light from inside the craft spilling onto the grass. A shadowy figure emerged, walking from the doorway and stopping on the grass, facing you. 

Neither one of you moved for a moment and it was silent. 

Finally you spoke up.

“Took you long enough!” you called. The figure started a brisk walk into the field as you stood up and started walking towards them. 

You weren’t sure who was first but you both broke into a run, colliding with each other, where you threw your arms around his neck as his arms went around your waist, face burying in your neck.

Finally they pulled back and you smiled, looking into those familiar rainbow eyes as they flashed gold. “In my defense,” Minho started. 

“You moved and didn't leave a forwarding address.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Violence/Blood. Rough fingering.

Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.

It’s a beautiful day in town again, the weather warm, the sky blue with fluffy clouds drifting by, birds singing… and a would be assassin rolling on the ground, screaming in agony as blood pours from his wounds. 

The nondescript man had posed as a villager, smiling to you as you walked by and holding out a peach to you. Villagers often give you small gifts like these. You’re now their queen after the very recent deaths of your parents, themselves killed by an assassin just like the man wailing before you. 

As you reached out to take the peach, thanking him for his generosity, his hands were suddenly sliced from his arms, causing the peach to fall to the now bloody dirt. You looked around in alarm, spotting your Captain of the Guard standing nearby. You hadn’t even seen him draw his sword. 

The Captain, named Sukuna, strolls over and picks up the bloody peach, ignoring the assassin quickly bleeding out beside it. He pulls something tiny, almost invisible, from the fruit. “A needle,” he says, holding it up so that it glints in the sunlight. 

How did he notice that? Oh well, that’s why you made him Captain of your personal guard. “Thank you, Captain. Your vigilance has saved me again.”

The other townsfolk are whispering and looking at the assassin with scared, worried faces. Sukuna raises his leg and brings his boot down on the man’s head, crushing it into a gooey mess. You wish he’d found a more tactful way of disposing of the would be killer. 

You address the townsfolk in your most soothing voice. “I apologize for the trouble. I’ll send someone to clean up this mess as soon as possible. Please continue about your business!”

No more explanation is necessary. Everyone in town knows why a needle is as big a threat to you as a sword. 

When you were an infant, a wicked old fairy laid a curse upon you. If you ever prick your finger on a needle, you will immediately die. Supposedly, a good fairy altered the curse so that you’ll fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years instead of dying, or until certain conditions are met to awaken you. But you’re not certain of that part, and you want no part of any of it either way. 

Your parents were desperate to save you, so they took every precaution. They banned all needles from the castle and refused to allow you to go into town, even after you turned eighteen. Now at age twenty, you’ve been forced to take the role of queen after your parents were murdered three months ago. 

The old fairy of the woods apparently held a grudge. She’s been sending assassins to try to get you to prick your finger, and you highly suspect she’s responsible for what happened to the king and queen. 

Newly without your parents’ protection, your first order of business was hiring a Captain of the Guard who could keep you alive until you found the fairy and put her to death. And as it happened, you met Ryomen Sukuna on the day your parents were buried. 

Bandits attacked your carriage as you were riding back from the cemetery, killing your coachman and two of your best guards before a mysterious man in a cloak appeared. With seconds, he’d cut down seven bandits with his sword, as if they were made of paper. The hood of his cloak fell back, revealing a handsome face lined with black tattoos, and a feral smile as blood sprayed from the bandits and colored him red. 

When finished with the bandits, he approached you, his sword still drawn, his crimson eyes burning with a strange intensity. He was going to kill you. He wasn’t there to save you, but to settle a score with the bandits. As he stepped closer, a bizarre thought entered your mind: I hope he has his way with me first. 

You shook your head to cast the thought aside. Then stared him down, using your most regal voice to say, “Your skills are impressive. I want to hire you to be my Captain of the Guard.”

He paused, a look of amusement on his face. “And why would I want such a job?” 

Ah, his voice was like satin. 

“You would be paid exceptionally well, would live in the castle with all the luxuries that it can provide. Your own private room, all the best foods, authority and power over others…”

“And all I have to do is babysit a princess?” he asked, grinning. 

“Actually,” you said, somewhat haughtily, “I’m a queen now.”

He accepted your offer, and you returned to the castle that day with a new Captain. All your advisors thought it was a terrible idea to give such a position to a man you knew nothing about, but they hadn’t seen his skill, his raw power. If he kept you alive, you didn’t care who he was. 

There’s just one problem. You’re insanely attracted to him! You’ve wanted him from the day you met him, and despite him being so close in proximity to you, he remains frustratingly out of reach. 

On multiple occasions you’ve made it clear that’s he’s welcome in your bed, but he always has the same response: a condescending grin while smugly saying, “You couldn’t handle me, Princess.”

Each time you remind him you’re a queen, not a princess, but by this point it’s obvious that he’s teasing you. 

Now, you find yourself walking through the gardens of your castle after returning from the town, sighing as you look over the sorry state of the roses. Your parents had gotten rid of every rose bush, afraid a thorn would somehow have the same effect as a needle. But you’d accidentally pricked yourself on a thorn at your parents’ funeral, where some well meaning townsperson had given you some roses, and nothing had happened. 

The next day you planted several rose bushes in the gardens, but they’re not doing well. They grew in pots but had not done well enough to be transferred to the ground. 

As you look up from your plants, your heart nearly stops. Two strange men are approaching, already too close to effectively flee from. You turn your head, to call for your Captain, but you remember that he went to wash off the blood from the previous assassin. Still, there should be four other guards nearby, two at each entrance to the gardens. The fact that these men waltzed in and don’t even seem to be in a hurry tells you that all four guards are probably dead. 

And, these men are skilled fighters. 

“Who are you? What are you doing in my gardens?” you ask, trying to get them talking, trying to buy time until Sukuna returns. No matter how skilled they are, he would utterly destroy them. 

One of the men, tall with long shaggy hair and beard, chuckles. “I think you know what we’re here for, Your Majesty.”

The shorter of the two, who looks like he hasn’t bathed in weeks, looks you up and down like a piece of meat. “She’ll really fall asleep if we stick her with a needle?” he asks the other man. 

The taller man shrugs. “Either that or die. The old witch isn’t sure.”

The shorter man looks at you with excitement. “Remember what you promised! I can do whatever I want with her afterwards!”

Your skin crawls with horror. The thought of this disgusting man touching you, even if you’re dead, makes bile threaten to rise in your mouth. 

And it makes you wish even more strongly that Sukuna had lain with you. At least then the first man to touch you would be someone you loved. 

Wait… loved? Do you love him, or just feel lust for him? You suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

“I can give you riches,” you tell them, “beyond anything the old fairy has promised.”

The men glance at each other, then laugh. “She hasn’t promised us any riches,” the taller man says. “I just enjoy killing, and that one there only has one thing on his mind.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling it close while holding a needle in his free hand.  

The shorter man’s face is getting red with anticipation as you struggle to pull your arm free. He licks his lips. “I just want some royal pussy!”

“No!” you shout, slamming your eyes shut as the needle gets closer. 

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

Sukuna walks down the lavish hallway, freshly bathed with a new set of clothes. He doesn’t really mind being covered in blood, but his delicate little princess seems bothered by it, even if she doesn’t say so. 

He finds it amusing that she tries so hard to seem strong and in charge. Maybe she thinks she is. Somehow she’s convinced herself that she wants Sukuna to fuck her. He finds the idea laughable. While she is lovely to look at, and he’d enjoy nothing more than splitting her open on his cock, he knows for certain that his tender princess would break too easily. He enjoys this job, this position, far too much to give it up now. 

If he were to act on his desires, he would end up destroying her, and so he keeps himself contained. For now. 

The biggest challenge was when he went into her chambers one night to check on her, moving quietly to avoid waking her, only to find her pleasuring herself in her bed. The sheets were thrown back, her legs spread wide, her back arched as she moaned his name. 

She never realized he was in the room, or how close she came to being absolutely ravaged that night. He remained in a darkened corner, watching, until she finished with a cry of pleasure. He snuck back out as soon as she fell asleep.

Lately she’s been occupying more and more of his thoughts, and he doesn’t like it. He’s been with countless women, never getting attached or even remembering their names. Outside the protected castle town, Sukuna was infamous for being a violent murderer who could never be tamed or subdued. Even he didn’t know why he accepted her offer to be Captain of the Guard in the first place. It was far more like him to slit her pretty throat and leave her bleeding out on the ground. 

But the more time he spends with her, the more times he watches this weak little royal try to be brave, the more endeared she becomes to him 

As he nears the gardens, trying to dispel all these thoughts from his mind, he notices something up ahead: the two guards who were watching the entrance are lying on the ground in pools of blood. Knowing exactly what this means, Sukuna breaks into a sprint while drawing his sword. 

Running through the gardens, he spots his princess, desperately struggling against two men, one of them gripping her hand. 

He hears one of them say, “I just want some royal pussy!” and suddenly his blood is boiling. He sees the needle in the other man’s hand, getting close to one of her fingers, and he wonders if he’ll reach her in time. 

Suddenly his princess kicks a pot by her feet, holding a withered plant. The pot hits the man in the leg, distracting him enough to loosen his grip. Sukuna grins as he watches her pull free and turn to see him running toward her. 

“Captain!” she calls, relief evident on her face. 

The other two men notice him just before he reaches them, and they turn to flee, but they’re too slow. He catches up to them in seconds, swinging his sword in an arc that cuts both of them down. 

As they lay on the ground bleeding, Sukuna stands over them, his red eyes flashing with anger. “You fuckers thought you could touch her?” he asks, stabbing into the shorter one’s stomach and twisting the blade. The man howls in agony, but Sukuna doesn’t stop. “What were you saying? That you wanted some royal pussy?” He pulls the sword out and stabs it into the man’s groin, drawing another scream. 

Finally the man dies, and Sukuna turns his attention to the other man, who is lying helplessly in a pool of his own urine. Sukuna is so disgusted, he finishes the man off quickly with a stab to the heart. 

He turns to his princess, wondering what sort of expression she’ll be wearing. This is the closest assassins have ever came to actually pricking her finger. 

Her face looks passive, calm, as she huffs and crosses her arms. “You’re late, Captain.”

She can’t fool Sukuna. He sees the way her hands tremble before she balls them into fists, hears the way her voice quivers even as she tries desperately to project nonchalance. 

He remembers hearing from a servant that the princess refused to cry when her beloved parents were murdered. She had immediately realized she was queen now, and she has a duty to hold this kingdom together in a time of turmoil. And so she pretends to be made of stone. 

For over three months straight, she’s been wearing a steel mask, never letting it slip even once. Watching her stand there, clearly shaken and afraid, he wants to rip that mask off. But he won’t. At least not here and now. 

“Didn’t expect two attempts in the same day,” he says, mimicking her casual tone. “The old bitch must be getting impatient.”

“I’m going inside,” she says, walking past him quickly. He follows behind, stepping over the guards’ corpses. She had only stopped for a moment to look at them, her face blank as she gave a small bow of respect. Now she’s walking swiftly to her chambers, and once inside, Sukuna shuts the door behind him. 

She looks up as if surprised to see him. “I wish to be alone for a moment,” she says. “Please wait outside my door.”

He steps closer until he’s right in front of her. “You’re trembling,” he tells her, placing one hand on her shoulder. 

A tiny flicker of panic flashes across her face, but she quickly recovers. “I am not trembling! I’m just… I just…”

He looks down at her, his face softening. “You don’t have to feign strength with me, Princess. In all the world, the one place you can let yourself be weak is by my side.”

Her eyes are becoming wet as they stare up at him. He moves his hand from her shoulder to her face, his fingers gently grazing her cheek. 

“I was terrified,” she whispers. “The things they planned to do to me… I can’t bear the thought!”

Sukuna feels the powerful urge to comfort her, to draw her into his arms, but he maintains his control. Instead, his hand slides down a bit, caressing her jaw, his thumb rubbing over her plump, painted lips. He leans in closer. He wants to kiss her, to claim her, but he won’t. He pulls away, deciding he needs to put some distance between the two of them, lest he do something he’ll regret. 

A look of hurt passes over her features as he turns away from her and walks a few steps away. 

That’s when he hears her voice behind him, still fragile and raw, say, “Coward!”

He freezes. The word sends a spike of anger through him, bordering on rage. He stomps back to her, not knowing if he wants to kiss her or hit her. She’s looking up at him defiantly. 

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” he says, his voice low, dangerous. “You want a man like me to fuck you, a dainty virgin princess? I’d tear you apart.”

Her expression doesn’t change. “Stop acting like I’m some lovesick teenager. I’m a grown woman. And I’m a queen, not a princess.”

Something in him snaps. He moves forward, closing the small distance between them in three steps, and roughly turns her around to face the tall window in her bedroom. His hands yank up her dress, diving under the layers of satin and lace, finding the flimsy panties beneath and ripping them off. She makes a sound, something between a gasp and a cry, clearly surprised. 

One hand shoves between her soft thighs, squeezing and groping the delicate flesh there, feeling how wet and slippery she already is. His callused fingers, the fingers of a killer who never should have been anywhere near this woman, part her slick folds and find her sensitive clit. He rubs it harshly, having no experience being gentle with anyone. 

She cries out, her shaking legs buckling beneath her. He wraps one arm around her chest, under her arms, holding her upright as his other hand relentlessly strokes her most tender places. Her quick, shuddering breaths are like music to him as he finally releases her clit and instead plunges one thick finger into her tiny, dripping hole. 

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

This is what you want, what you’ve wanted for three months: Sukuna’s hands on you, pleasuring you, his firm body pressed against yours. 

His fingers are rough, one of them shoving inside you, making you jerk. And when he pushes a second one in, you feel a sting as your body stretches around him. You whimper, your body already collapsed and being held up by him. 

Then you hear his voice in your ear, “You want my cock but you can’t even handle my fingers, princess.”

He’s pumping them in and out, his palm rubbing against your aching clit. You let out a moan that sounds more like a sob, your hands gripping his arm. “Please,” you say, your voice broken, desperate for release, “m-make me cum!”

You can feel his hot breath on your neck as his fingers curl inside you, touching something that’s never been touched before. You scream, your body going completely limp in his grasp. You cum in his arms, twitching with pleasure, your pussy sore and stinging from the two fingers still lodged inside it. 

He keeps them there until you ride out your orgasm, then finally withdraws them and lowers your spent body to the floor. You’re left on your knees, panting, your own fluids dripping out of you. It takes you a moment to realize your face is wet with tears. Were you crying? 

You look up in time to see him licking his fingers clean, and the lewd sight has you hungering for more. You stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to tear your dress off and have his way with you. Instead, he gives you a disdainful look. 

“That’s all you’re getting from me. I’m not going to ruin you,” he says. 

“You keep saying that! Maybe I want you to ruin me!”

He looks down at you, red eyes gleaming with anger. “You turned into a crying mess when I put two fingers in you. What do you think will happen if I shove my whole cock into that tight little pussy?”

You glare back at him. “I don’t know, but I’d like to find out!”

He grumbles something under his breath, then turns away from you again. It almost sounded like he said, “Don’t tempt me”. 

You practically growl in frustration as you climb to your feet and head to your private washroom to clean up. 

It’s later in the evening when you’re standing in your room, looking out the very window he pressed you against earlier. You touch the glass, remembering how his fingers felt. You turn around, angry at yourself for getting heated again, angry at him for leaving you unsatisfied. You could die or fall into a deep sleep at any moment! Why can’t he understand that you want to be with him before that happens? 

You feel something soft brush against your ankle, and you look down to see Briar, the cat that lives in the castle to kill rats, rubbing his face on you. Bending down, you scoop him up and pet his back. “Have you been doing your job properly?” you ask, scratching his ears as he purrs. 

You hear your door opening and look over to see Sukuna walking in. He hasn’t spoken to you since the… incident earlier. Will he apologize? Or maybe tell you he’s leaving? He’s an unpredictable one. You brace yourself for whatever he has to say, your hand absently rubbing Briar’s fur. 

Suddenly you feel something sharp. You wince and Briar jumps down from your arms. You look at your finer, seeing one tiny drop of blood. 

Oh no. 

The conniving old fairy used the cat! 

You look up at Sukuna, holding up your finger. There’s a look of horror on his face as he breaks into a run. But it’s too late. Everything is going dark. You hear him shouting your name, feel his strong arms catch you before you hit the floor, but your eyes slide closed, and you see nothing more. 

[yezznn]

random thoughts about hitman!yeonjun

pairings: hitman!yeonjun x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda), smut, slighty angsty, non idol au, double life.

warnings: mdni, meandom!yj, brief mention of gunplay, high stamina yj, mention of guns and murder, reader dgaf about her bf killing ppl, reader is kinda naive¿ yj calls reader ‘slut’ once.

a/n: I have 2 more works ready to post 🥴, already working on my masterlist. If you love Yeonjun feel free to check out the rest of my work in here.

MDNI / not proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes

You first met hitman!yeonjun in a seemingly ordinary setting, like a coffee shop or a bookstore. He was charming and mysterious, and you were instantly drawn to him.

He’s careful to keep his profession a secret from you at first. He’s intrigued by the kindness and light you bring to his otherwise dangerous life. But soon you notice small things about him—like the way he’s always on high alert, or the occasional bruises he tries to hide. You chalk it up to him being a bit of an enigma.

Hitman!Yeonjun is a mysterious but passionate lover. You don’t know about his family, or his location most of the time— you even question why you’re dating this guy in the first place. Until he comes knocking on your door one night, a bouquet in his hand and an apologetic expression on his face. Making love to you for hours and getting you dumb on his dick until you forget he disappeared out of nowhere for a few days.

Hitman!Yeonjun is fiercely protective of you. He makes sure you’re safe without you even realizing it, subtly steering you away from potential dangers. You often find yourselves talking late into the night. Yeonjun opens up about his past, though he leaves out the deeper details.

Hitman!Yeonjun has the stamina of an Olympic athlete. This applies to both his job and sex. Fucking you like an animal all night when his day didn’t go as planned and he has to work double now. Filling you up nicely for hours when he knows he’ll be out of town for a while (and ruining you just as good when he’s back).

Hitman!yeonjun who sends you nudes when he’s on a ‘work trip’. Going back to where he’s staying for the night after a long day of stalking and getting rid of his objective, missing the feeling of your skin and the sound of your sweet moans. You’re too focused admiring his hard cock to notice that in his exhaustion, he forgot to hide his gun in the background of the picture.

But you eventually stumble upon evidence of hitman!Yeonjun’s true profession by accident. Maybe you find a hidden weapon between his folded clothes or overhear a suspicious conversation. When you confront him, Yeonjun is torn between protecting you and being honest. He eventually confesses, fearing he might lose you. You’re shocked and scared, but also understand that his actions were driven by a desire to protect you and others.

You both work on rebuilding trust. Hitman!Yeonjun promises to keep you safe and be honest with you, while you set boundaries to ensure your own safety. Despite the risks, you become his anchor. Your support helps him navigate the moral complexities of his job.

When he’s not on a job, hitman!Yeonjun loves spending quiet moments with you. Cooking together, watching movies, and just enjoying each other’s company.

Hitman!Yeonjun whose job turned him into a discipline freak most of the time. Sucking in a sharp breath when you’ve been getting on his nerves all day, being a brat when he’s already in a sour mood. Throwing you into the bed as soon as you get home, crashing your lips in a bruising kiss and almost ripping the clothes off your body. Swatting your hand away when you try to tug on his dressing shirt, muttering a “stay still, slut” under his breath as his hand reaches to squeeze your neck just enough to make you dizzy— quickly reminding you of just how dangerous he is. Effectively shutting you up and ending the night balls deep in you, making sure you come for more times than you can count. And maybe fucking you with his gun if he’s feeling kinky.

Hitman!Yeonjun surprises you with his hidden talents, like playing the guitar or being an amazing cook. These moments remind you of the normal life you both crave. It’s not always easy, but your love for each other keeps you going.

Hitman!Yeonjun struggles with the moral implications of his actions, drowning in guilt and regret. Your perspective helps him see things differently, and he starts questioning the path he chose, the many lives he’s taken. You both dream of a future where Yeonjun can leave this behind. It’s a distant hope, but it gives you both something to strive for.

Through all the challenges, your bond with hitman!Yeonjun grows stronger. You become each other’s safe haven, navigating the complexities of love and danger together.

a/n: remember this is fictional!

[cottonlemonade]

Alone At The Library

word count: 2342 || avg. reading time: 10 mins.

pairing: university AU rival!Akaashi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, rivals to lovers

warnings: implications of financial struggles

request: small pineapple lemonade with extra ice for Akaashi || fluffy accidental confession with rival Akaashi

In desperate need of escaping the academic and social pressure of a top university, Akaashi convinced his parents that it would not be the end of the world if he went to one a little outside of Tokyo instead. It was far less prestigious, of course, and few people had ever heard of it. But in the end, his air-tight argumentation had won them over and he had moved into his dorm in a neighboring prefecture. The university he chose had a surprisingly good literary program with shockingly bad libraries. For months now the main library on campus was under construction with no indication of anyone ever working on it and so the students were forced to fan out to the smaller libraries in the surrounding neighborhoods to find the volumes necessary for their field.

Akaashi stretched his neck and winced when it popped. He would have loved to take the stack of books next to him to the dorms but the small town library he had chosen was so miserably equipped that they couldn‘t afford to let the few academic publications they carried leave the premises. The essay he was pondering over was a lot trickier than he had anticipated and if he didn‘t hand it in by tomorrow he‘d get a failing grade by default. And so, resigning himself to his fate, he shuffled to the lobby to get a paper cup of watery coffee from the old vending machine, ready to make the most of it until closing time.

When he returned to his spot at the long, somehow always mysteriously sticky table he frowned. He could have sworn there was a book missing. Confused and thinking his exhausted mind must be playing tricks on him he looked around but besides the elderly woman at the reception, deeply engrossed in a well-read paperback with a questionable title, there was no one else around. Akaashi bent down to look through his bag, considering he might have absently put it away, and shot back up a moment later when a pair of chubby legs in very familiar, frayed sneakers walked past on the other side, heading towards the opposite end of the table and he heard the unmistakable sound of books being somewhat carelessly dropped onto the surface.

His mood darkened. Pretending you couldn‘t see him, you placed your backpack on the chair next to you and withdrew a tattered notepad, pencil case, and water bottle, reaching for the first book. Once you opened it, he noticed the cover.

You didn‘t even have the decency to look ashamed when he came over. “What do you think you‘re doing?“, he asked.

“What does it look like?“, you replied, your tone pointedly bored as you flipped through the pages.

“I was working with this book.“

“Really? Looked to me like you were done with it.“

“I only went to get a coffee.“, he pressed out through his teeth, “And it lay open next to my paper. How much more in use could it have been?“

“Listen, you have a whooole stack next to you. Why don‘t you use those until I‘m done, hm?“

You had the audacity to give him a very fake bright smile.

He hated that he didn’t immediately have another comeback. Biting the inside of his cheek he thought but ultimately knew there was no point in arguing with you. Any wall would be more susceptible.

“20 minutes.“, he said coldly, “Then you‘ll give it back.“

“Sure thing, pretty boy.“, you said sarcastically, placed the book demonstratively in front of you, and began taking notes. As he walked away you added lazily, “You misspelled “embarrassing“ in your second paragraph. - Ironically.“

As he sat back down, feeling his blood pressure steadily rising in your presence, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw you were right.

“Time‘s up.“ Exactly 20 minutes later, Akaashi stepped next to you once again. He reached out for the book but you held it tightly, scribbling away. “Just take a picture and work with that.“, he suggested irritably.

“Battery died.“, you only replied without taking your eyes off the paragraph or stopping to write.

For a couple of moments he just stood next to you, hoping to bring you out of context for one, but also maybe come up with a solution for your problems. There was a lot of cross-referencing involved in his paper. Taking pictures would most likely take longer than just looking it all through in his case.

“Maybe we can share it.“, he said eventually.

You looked up and raised a highly doubtful brow.

“I know,“, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, “but if we both need it right now that feels like the only way.“

After a moment‘s thought you moved your backpack from the chair to make space for him and continued your work.

He scoffed inwardly. Obviously, you expected him to move to you, but not wanting to risk another argument he gave in and went to collect his things.

It was by no means a perfect solution but at least there was minimal fighting. You were even considerate enough to only hold the page open at a 90 degree angle so he could continue reading on the page he was on, which he conceded was rather civil of you.

The late summer sun was ready to turn in and through the windows offered little support with grayish golden light.

“Okay, you two. It‘s time to pack up for today.“, the elderly woman announced. Instinctively, Akaashi checked his phone for the time. It made sense that the small library closed at 6 but he was so used to the convenience of the business hours of Tokyo’s city center that it caught him off guard nonetheless.

“Just another hour?”, you pleaded from the seat next to him, your voice sweet and genuine. He never heard it like that before.

The elderly woman pursed her lips apologetically, “I’m sorry, dearie. But we open tomorrow at 9, you can come straight back then.”

Akaashi looked down at his unfinished paper. 9 a.m. was his deadline. And judging by your barely legible notes, you were also in a hurry to finish up an assignment. You began putting your things away and looked confused when he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Gimme a moment.”, he said and got up.

You watched with rising curiosity how he rounded the corner of the table and began talking with the woman. They were too far away to hear clearly but she laughed and playfully waved him off. He kept on talking for about another thirty seconds before she laughed - no, not laughed. Giggled. Then she rummaged in her purse, produced a set of very jangly keys, and, unclipping one of them, handed it to him. Your jaw dropped when she waved Goodbye to you past his shoulder. With a small satisfied grin, he returned to you and plopped down on the chair, going back to the book as if nothing happened. Evidently, you weren’t gonna let it slide and stared at him until he talked.

“Don’t look at me like that. I just got us VIP access.”, he held up the key, “We can stay as long as we want. Just have to lock up after and leave the key under that clay owl at the entrance.”

“How did you even…?”, you asked, impressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked nicely, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have your ways,”, he pointed to the book you previously swiped from him, “and I have mine.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

As a child, Akaashi would have done anything to spend a night alone in a manga café. He would have practically glowed at the prospect of squinting for hours at the text bubbles and admiring the details in the panels. Now that he got glasses, the squinting was gone, but his love of reading was still as strong as ever and even though it wasn’t an exciting manga in front of him or a café that kept him fed with ramen and other junk food he still felt a deep sense of joy to spend time alone in a library. Well, almost alone. A loud growling of your tummy ripped him from his nostalgia.

He had completely forgotten about the time. “Maybe we should order some food.”, he said, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet to check how much cash he had. He doubted the delivery services this far out all came equipped with card readers. Scrolling through the handful of delivery services in the area, he asked, “What are you in the mood for?”

He was about to lay out your options when you shook your head. From somewhere in your backpack you produced a slightly squished onigiri. It was from a convenience store with a bright red sticker announcing that it had been on sale due to the close expiration date. His eyes fell onto your notepad once again, densely covered in scribbles, not wasting a single centimeter of space. The scratches and dents in your metal pencil case suggested that it had been with you for a long time. He tried to remember ever seeing you during the many social events the university offered. But whenever the class suggested going out for dinner you made excuses of studying or having to part-time. He knew you were a scholarship student but he just figured it was because of your excellent grades since you two usually fought for the top score of the year, not for a lack of money.

Akaashi looked down at his wallet again.

“I can just pay for both of us, no problem.”, he offered and was shocked when that earned him a dagger-filled glare.

“No thank you.”, you said sharply and bit into the rice ball.

He shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” After ordering a large pizza for himself, he put his phone away again, going back to working silently by your side. The book that had started the alliance was pushed out of the way at this point and you were each going through separate materials.

About half an hour passed before his phone buzzed, letting him know the pizza was waiting out front and when he returned the tempting smell of cheese and freshly baked bread filled the air. With a slice, heavily laden with different toppings, in one hand, Akaashi went back to checking the notes he had taken since his arrival, sifting out the truly important and highlighting the ones he wanted to add to his paper. Your stomach grumbled again and your hand automatically went to cover it. He pretended not to notice it, but a grin slowly formed on his lips with each new noise coming from you. He heard you swallow quietly and caught you glancing at the pizza every so often. He took his second piece, adding a little hum of culinary delight to the mix.

Once a third of the pizza was gone and you still hadn‘t said anything he was beginning to worry his idea hadn‘t worked, so he swerved to plan B. Leaning back in his chair he patted his stomach, a small bump indicating he was stuffed. “Hey, can you do me a favor?“

“When have I ever been known to do that?“

Akaashi ignored your comment.

“I think I was being too greedy. There is no way I can finish this thing on my own.“

With a sidelong look at him, you raised a brow. “I‘m not a child. I know what you‘re doing.“

“And what is it that I‘m doing?“, he asked, innocently but with a definite challenge to his voice.

You were about to call out his obvious scheme when you wondered if it wouldn‘t sound too egotistical to say that he wanted to share from the beginning. What if he really only miscalculated his hunger? And letting a fresh (and free) pizza go to waste was basically a crime.

Wordlessly, you reached past him and pulled the box over so it was sitting between you. The first bite was heaven and you chewed carefully to savor the taste. Very satisfied with himself, Akaashi began adding his notes to his paper. Whilst nibbling at the crust you slid a book to him.

You tapped a paragraph near the bottom of the page. “Here, this is your topic, right?“

He quickly skimmed it and nodded. The title of the book didn‘t suggest that it had anything to do with his research.

“It seemed promising, maybe it can give your paper that last little bit of extra.”

He wanted to thank you out of reflex but instead said with a teasing tone, "What, you like me now?"

“I tolerate you.“, you said loftily, taking a second slice.

Akaashi mimicked you under his breath, of course still loud enough for you to hear, “I tolerate you.“

You both laughed.

“Can I ask you something?“

You nodded and took another bite.

“Why do you hate me?“

“I don‘t hate you.“, you said without wasting a single breath.

“Huh, you sure about that?“, he chuckled.

“Kinda. Like… 80% sure, I‘d say.“

“And what are the other 20%?“

Choosing to focus on the pizza, you shrugged.

“I‘d dislike anyone who is smart, handsome and kind.“

“You think I‘m handsome?“, he asked immediately, making you clear your throat and look away. He was having a great time.

“Oh, don‘t pretend you don‘t know you‘re dreamy.“, you said with playful annoyance, “Why do you think I call you pretty boy?“

“Is that so?“

With your cheeks turning very red very quickly you took a new book from your stack and opened it to a random page. Picking up your pen, you began taking notes again.

He watched you for a bit, impressed by your dedication, then asked, “Interesting book?“

“Uh huh.“

Akaashi reached for it and turned it around.

“Then I bet it‘s gonna be even better when it‘s right side up.“

art: @ui536

a/n: thank you so much for your request and I apologize that it's taking me 6-8 business weeks to reply to requests by now. I hope you enjoyed it @toomanygoldfish

And a special thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for listening to me rant about this piece for way too long.

[blingblong55]

Little red riding hood- König NSFW

Based on a request:

Can I ask for a werewolf König with red riding hood reader and maybe age gap if you’re comfortable with it? And knotting and breeding kink if that’s also allowed Red is a witch in this if that’s okay since it’s October ☺️.Red is in her 20’s while I think König if I’m reading it right, he’s like late 30’s? I could be wrong.Red follows the tale of the story, but what if in this one, Red and König knew each other? Like he was her guardian angel for her growing up, and they were like friends of being outcasts; König being the Big Bad Wolf and Red for her red hood and for being a witch, all because she lives out more in nature then in a village but is their only known healer so they tolerate her. They always say that wherever Red went, the Wolf followed as to make sure Red was never harmed, lurking in the woods. But then, a mysterious woodsman/huntsman appears in town; and he helps around. Goes into the woods to chop trees and hunt; but it is secretly König posing as a man as to avoid suspicion but to also get close to Red 👀 _____ F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, monster au, werewolf!könig, age gap, witch au, witch!reader, unprotected!sex, friends to lovers, P-in-V, breeding _____

A/N: It won't be as extensive as I wanted but I hope you enjoy and im sorry for posting this a day late

A small home in the woods, where a young witch lived, and a neighbour far away that became her friend. You and he became friends when he first introduced himself. Ever since, he has become your protector, friend and guidance. But with time, that sense of protecting you just because you were his friend changed. Infatuation for some. Love, respect and honesty for him. He wasn't normal, that was known and you weren't very much liked, that is a fact. But why don't you get the townspeople to pester you? You heal, and anyone in town sick comes to your small home for healing. No pharmacy in town, just the same old hospital and you. Yes it's true, while no one likes you, they respect you and your abilities to heal others.

It has taken time to get used to this newfound fame, but with König around to help and protect, life is great. And now as you made your way to the dark forest for another special herb for a healing session in the morning, you pulled the hood of your cloak on your head. The red material disguises you in the woods. This is perfect for the man who follows you like a shadow, a new stalker you swore was out to harm you. The dark magic protects you from it when it knows you don't know it. As it doesn't protect you from this mysterious creature, you begin to fasten your pace. König not with you this time scares you. "For the souls, help me," you whisper as you begin to sprint. A tree that you recognise in sight. "König," you remember and turn a sharp right, running towards the only haven besides your home.

Your wicker basket in hand, the plants and book moving with this quickened pace. You knock on his door, it takes time but when he opens it, he is in his human form. "König, there…there was a man- or thing…and-" you try to explain. His large form moves you inside, he smiles, knowing he has his precious thing with him now. "You're safe now, liebe," he whispers as he holds you in his arms. Your basket is now on the ground of his cabin, the cosy walls surrounding you both from the cold breeze and fog of the autumn season. The moon was almost full as it was the 30th of October, almost his time of turning. He pulls away and cups your face in his large hands, he chuckles to himself at this beautiful view. "Now, why don't you and I sit down and talk, ja?" And as time passes, he walks you home. Hallow Eve in the coming minutes, you with a journey to your grandma. He kisses your forehead and disappears in the night.

By morning, as you take your baked goods to the one lady who kept you sane, you see a lumberman, axe in hand as he walks through the woods. You stop in your tracks, as far as you are concerned, no one in town took trees down from your property. König at his home as you stared at his man. Figure more rougher than any man you've seen. Hallows hour is approaching soon, and your grandmother needs your protection at that time. You continued walking and then the man turned to you, scarecrow mask on, you know this wasn't normal. Everyone in town knew not to mess with you, for the man with the howls was behind when his precious girl came to town. With a hand on the dagger the old witch crafted, you never give this mysterious man your back as you walk past and before you make it to the sacred gardens, he chases you with the power most men can't possess.

König, you think of. He was not near, nowhere as near as this man posing as a noble lumberman. You can't drop the basket in fear that your potions and book will be stolen and used against yourself and the greater good of others. Three claw marks in a tree of where König left his mark. A haven, his home much closer as possible. The early morning fog made the ground nearly visible. "König!" you scream in hopes of having his ability to hear it all and listen to you. You run and run, the red cloak dancing with the wind like a willow tree.

Once you make it to him, you knock and knock, calling for him in desperation. It was the oldest trick in the book for dark, smart and in need-of-love wolves. To court and how to make it fast. "For heavens my Liebling, what's the matter?" he asks with a soft tone, breathing trying to slow down. "It happened again, but this…this time the man chased me with-…i..an axe and- well." He shakes his head, inside spirit smiling like the devil. "I'm here to protect you, my liebe," he kisses your forehead and acts as if he is determined to kill the man. The hoax is well done as he has you vulnerable and scared, all for him to use against you and kiss you and make you his finally. Your arms holding him close, he chuckles knowing that the woman he loves finds comfort in him. He kisses your forehead over and over, and guides you to his bedroom to, 'let you rest' but it's all part of his plan to make you, his.

They say to claim, is to leave a mark, and König intended to do just that. His scent on your red cloak, your dress and the basket you carried with care. His gaze softens, but his touch is rough as he lays you in bed. "Now, why don't I show you how good I can take care of you?" One nod from him and another from you has him removing the unnecessary clothes. There was something different in the atmosphere, he felt it and you know you can feel it too. "König, I-" you say but his finger flies to your lips. "Let me show you I care," his voice was still so soft but as time kept getting closer, that soft voice would turn to howls and hoarse words. He kisses you, you kiss him back, which he smiles to as he knows you feel the same way…finally. No longer does he have to lure you into his home, he can have you come here, willingly. The lumberman character is lost in the woods as he gets lost in you.

His hands are on your waist as with his thumb he lifts your dress, and you squirm. "It's okay, I won't hurt you, I want to please you," he tells you. You know it's not an empty word he ushers but honesty. Your body soon to be his, your love and devotion, written in time as his. His bulge, with a wet shadow as his pre-cum leaks from just this contact. You un-do his trousers, he looks down and then at you, "You want it that bad, don't you?" A devil smirk on him again. "I need it," you tell him. He pushes you deeper in the bed as his kisses become rough, trailing to your jaw and neck, he growls and time ticks. It's a countdown. Poets and other simple writers, all authoring about a woman in a red cloak, afraid of the big bad wolf, to have it debunked by you and him. Covered in lust and deep in love. His cock is ready to pump you full of his seed. He needs to breed your pretty pussy that drips the taste of heaven. Your hands fly to his back, he lets out a groan.

"That's it, baby, mark me," his hands fly to your cunt, fingers it and licks his fingers after. "Just like I predicted, heaven from you," he kisses you once more, this time so you can taste glory. His cock, in a desperate need to fuck itself into you, slowly lets his tip in. You moan, he was big, thick and already so red and swollen for you. Seconds pass and now, as his werewolf self comes to play with his prey, his heavy cock spreads you open. You whimper and cry. "That's right darling, keep making those pretty noises for me," he kisses you, and you moan into it. His large hands on you, claiming every last bit of you as his. His thrusts are like this form of himself, animalistic and wild. Your body and his, in unity, as he claims that cunt of yours. Your clit, rubbed by his large hands, your eyes rolling back. Thrusts so good it turns you into a blabbering mess. His dark laugh melts you, he loves this view of you.

Your orgasm building up, your pussy wrapping around him like a perfect glove. He groans and grunts. It was art for what sex can be. To have your cunt, spread and filled with his fat cock, it was art. Your hands, marking his back, he lets out a growl, his beast cannines on view. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." He adores how he claims you and you do him. His hands fly to your neck as he chokes you and as his moans and grunts fill the gap between you and him. And just as you were already riding your high, you feel him, his cock grow within you, creating a nest inside of you. The art of sex and knotting your mate, a plan he knew all too well. Your eyes leak with tears, tears he helped create as he proves to you, that love is not emotional at times but physical. His cum, leaking from your cunt that was already filled to the brim. "You like it when I breed you like that?" This is a not-so-innocent question that will be asked throughout this relationship. "You like it, I know my little whore does," eh kisses you, and thrusts slowly as he plans on keeping his cock in you for some more time.

A/N: I apologise if this wasn't good or how it was requested...sorry

Tags:

@bigtimesalt8196 @alxexhearts @kit-kats06 @greatstormcat @crimson404deer @liyanahelena @sleepydang @arithestrawberry @l0calfatherfiiigure @sigrid666 @killshotcodxxx @potatoknight @scarletevening @elowynnlane @brazen-haze @rinsworld @briefartnaturewolf @rnangoes @ess-perspective-blog @jihyowl

[riboism]

haunted ═╬ act IV: the cat

♱ content tags: centuries old vampire! seonghwa x fem reader, vampire au, gothic romance, gothic horror, story takes place circa early 1900s, reincarnation, smut, angst, forbidden love, slowburn, lots of yearning, no happy ending, blood, satanism, animal cruelty, nosferatu/bram stroker’s dracula/edward scissorhands vibes

♱ a/n: sorry for being late with an update (depression sucks lol). I’ll try to be more consistent with the remaining parts. as always, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

♱ wordcount: 2.7k

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The rest of the morning felt off, as if your reality had begun to blur at the edges. Every time you wandered through the estate’s dimly lit hallways, the creak of the old wooden floors sent a strange sense of familiarity crawling up your spine. It was maddening, like the walls were whispering to you in a language you almost understood, their voices just out of reach.

You couldn't take it anymore. The strangeness of the Count, the mysteriousness of the estate, and the dreams—God, the dreams—had become too much to ignore. There had to be answers somewhere. Without another thought, you grabbed your winter coat and strode down to town, determined to find them.

By the time you reached the bank, you were breathless from the steep steps leading up to its grand entrance. Steadying yourself, you approached the front desk, where the same bank teller from before sat, her glasses perched low on her nose as she sorted through a stack of papers.

"Is Mr. Kang available?" you asked, still catching your breath.

She didn’t bother looking up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, no, but—"

"Mr. Kang is only available by appointment," she cut in flatly, flipping another page.

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to remain composed. "Please, it’s urgent. I don’t mind waiting."

This time, she lifted her gaze just enough to regard you with practiced indifference. "I’m sorry, but unless you have an appointment, I cannot help you."

Frustration simmered in your chest as you turned on your heel, ready to leave in defeat, until a familiar voice called out behind you.

"Miss Y/L/N!"

Relief flooded through you as you turned to see Mr. Kang hurrying toward you, his ever-present smile wide and warm. "I knew that was you! What brings you here?"

His friendliness was like a breath of fresh air. In a town like this, it felt good to have even the semblance of a friend. You smiled, grateful. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kang. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something."

"Of course," he said smoothly, placing a guiding hand on the small of your back as he led you toward his office. "Anything for a friend of a friend. I have a few minutes before my next meeting."

You cast a smug glance at the receptionist as you passed, satisfied with your small victory.

Once settled in Mr. Kang’s office, your eyes were immediately drawn to the painting you had delivered just days ago, now proudly displayed on the wall.

"Really livens up the place, doesn’t it?" he mused, following your gaze.

You nodded absently before shifting in your seat, sitting up straighter. "Actually, Mr. Kang, I came to ask about my employer."

Yeosang leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? Is this about his account? If so, I’m afraid I can’t discuss financial matters without his presence."

"No, no, it’s not that," you said quickly, hesitating as you tried to find the right words. Now that you were here, you realized you hadn’t exactly planned how to phrase your concerns without sounding ridiculous. "It’s more… personal. I suppose I’m just curious about his background. He’s very private, as you know, and since I’m living under the same roof as him, I just—well, I guess I’d like to be sure I’m not in any…"

"Danger?" Mr. Kang supplied, raising a brow.

The word felt too strong—maybe even rude—but you didn’t know how else to put it. After a beat, you gave a small nod.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I understand your concern. I was worried the townspeople’s gossip might be getting to you. But I can assure you, Count Park is a good man."

Somehow, that wasn’t as reassuring as he probably intended.

"That said," he continued, "if you're looking for more information about him, I’m afraid I’ve already told you everything I know. Your best bet would be the town registry. They may have more records on his estate and lineage."

The town registry. The thought hadn’t occurred to you before, but now that he’d mentioned it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important could be waiting for you there.

After thanking Mr. Kang for his time, you set off toward the other side of town in search of the Town Clerk’s office. It was a bit of a trek for your tired feet, but your curiosity urged you forward. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to find. Mr. Kang was right—Count Park was strange, yes, his habits somewhat odd, but he had never been unkind. He had done nothing to warrant this growing unease that had settled in your chest. And yet… something wasn’t right. You couldn’t shake the feeling, nor could you bring yourself to sleep another night in that castle without at least trying to uncover the truth.

The Town Clerk’s office was an old, run-down building. The doors barely held together, their hinges rusted and weak, and thick cobwebs clung to the corners of the entryway. The wooden floorboards groaned beneath your hesitant steps, kicking up the scent of dust and decay. The air was stale, tinged with something unpleasant. Behind the counter stood an older man, his posture slouched with the same disinterest you had received from the woman at the bank. He barely looked up as you approached.

"Hello," you greeted, keeping your voice low. "I’m here on behalf of… Count Park Seonghwa."

At the mention of his name, the man’s gaze snapped toward you.

"He’s my cousin," you lied, forcing a nervous chuckle. "He asked me to come down and request a copy of his records, as he’s thinking of moving soon. You see, he’s been quite sick and—"

The clerk didn’t seem to care for your fabricated sob story. Without a word, he turned around and pulled out a long, rickety drawer, his fingers skimming over aged documents. After a brief pause, he retrieved a worn file and handed it to you without so much as a glance.

"Thank you," you mumbled, taking the file gingerly. You wasted no time tucking it into your shopping bag. The sun was beginning to set, casting an eerie golden glow over the town, so you stepped back outside, eager to return to the castle before nightfall.

As you walked back up the path, something felt… off. The air had changed, thick with something heavy and foreboding. An unsettling silence blanketed the town, save for the distant murmurs of people gathered in small clusters. Their faces were drawn and grave, their voices tinged with fear and anger. As you drew closer, you noticed more dead cows strewn along the dirt roads, their bodies limp and lifeless, eyes wide open. The scent of rot and blood stung your nose.

People were no longer merely mourning their losses—they were furious.

"That bastard! First my sheep, now my cows—someone’s doing this on purpose!"

"You think I had anything to do with this? You’re out of your mind!"

"All of us are suffering! God has abandoned us! First the cattle, then who’s to say our crops next?"

"You heard the stories! It’s the devil’s work! I told you he was cursed!"

Their voices rose in hysteria, their rage spilling over into accusations hurled at one another. Some men had begun shoving, women whispering behind their hands, their eyes darting toward the looming silhouette of the Count’s estate in the distance.

A cold dread seeped into your bones. The shift in the air wasn’t just in your mind. Something was happening. The people were on edge, their patience worn thin. It didn’t take much to see where their anger was beginning to turn.

Your pulse quickened, panic setting in. You had to leave before anyone noticed you lingering. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you hurried up the path, your boots crunching against the gravel as you retreated toward the castle.

⸺

You busied yourself in the kitchen, hoping the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the simmering pot on the stove would distract you from the unsettling events of the day. But your mind kept drifting—to the townspeople, their anger, the lifeless cattle, and most of all, the Count.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. You turned, surprised to see him standing in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, as if the night before had never happened. He looked almost… untouched, unaffected.

You studied him carefully, searching for any sign of weakness, any lingering trace of last night’s affliction. But there was none. His complexion was as perfect as ever, his posture poised, his expression neutral. If anything, he seemed even more put together than usual, as if whatever had weakened him had vanished without a trace.

"Good evening," he greeted, sounding well-rested, as if the last twenty-four hours had been nothing but a dream.

You hesitated before responding, gripping the wooden spoon in your hand a little tighter. "Good evening, Count." You swallowed, forcing your tone to remain casual. "How are you feeling?"

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Why do you ask?"

You faltered. He was toying with you. "Well," you began carefully, "you were quite ill last night. I was worried."

"I was?" He stepped further into the kitchen, trailing his gloved fingers over the edge of the counter as he studied the meal you were preparing.

"You were coughing up blood," you pressed, watching his face closely. "You collapsed."

He leaned against the counter, as if trying to remember. "Ah yes…That must have been troubling for you."

Your lips parted in disbelief. What kind of response was that?

"It was more than troubling," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice. "You nearly collapsed in my arms. I stayed with you the entire night, worried you wouldn't wake up."

His eyes softened, but not in the way you'd expected. It wasn’t gratitude, nor regret. It was something else—something knowing.

"And yet, here I am," he said smoothly. "Alive and well."

You narrowed your eyes. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? Was he trying to play it off that nothing had happened last night, that somehow you were the delusional one? "That doesn't explain anything."

He sighed as if indulging a particularly stubborn child, then turned his gaze to the pot simmering on the stove. "What are you making?"

You scoffed, incredulous at the way he was so effortlessly dodging the conversation. "Clam chowder," you muttered, stirring the pot with a little more force than necessary.

"Smells lovely," he murmured, though his interest seemed distant. He looked at you then, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before he spoke again. "Thank you for your concern."

It was dismissive. A conversation-ender. And you hated it.

But more than anything, you hated how much he unsettled you. Because despite his feigned nonchalance, despite the way he refused to acknowledge what had happened… you knew he was hiding something. And you were going to find out what. 

⸺

As soon as you finished your nightly duties, you retreated to your room, locking the door behind you. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to rest. The weight of the documents in your lap felt heavier than paper should, as if they carried a truth too burdensome to bear.

You lit a candle, its flickering light barely illuminating the delicate, crumbling pages. The handwriting was difficult to decipher, the ink faded and the style archaic. You squinted, running your fingers over the words, tracing the loops and sharp angles in an attempt to piece together a story lost to time.

And then you saw it.

Park Seonghwa.

Your breath hitched. It was his name—unmistakably his, written in elegant script. You frowned, flipping through the pages, your heart pounding faster with every word you managed to make out. It was a marriage certificate.

This Certifies that Count Park Seonghwa & Lady Alya Were United In Marriage on the Seventh Day of June in the Year 1836. 

Your breath grew shallow. Eighty years ago. That was impossible. The Count was so young. He couldn’t have been married eighty years ago. He couldn’t have been alive eighty years ago, not looking the way he did now.

Your hands shook as you turned another page. There was no birth record for him, nothing to confirm when or where he had come into existence. It was as if he had simply appeared one day. You turned a few more pages, until you stumbled upon another document: 

Deed of Land. Let all men know and understand that as of the Third of February in the year 1621, Count Park Seonghwa is the true and original land owner of this following parcel: Lot 1117. The Interior of this land belongs to, and is under the control of Count Park Seonghwa. In the event of his passing, all rights and ownership herein shall be bestowed upon his lawful spouse, the Countess Ha-Rin.

None of what you read made any sense. You wondered if the ink had faded with time or if your weary eyes were simply deceiving you. Yet, no matter how many times you reread the words, the documents remained clear, official, and indisputable. A deep unease settled in your chest as you traced the elegant, aged script with your fingertips.

Just then, a brittle newspaper clipping slipped from the stack, fluttering to the floor. You leaned down, picking it up with trembling hands. The paper was fragile beneath your touch, its edges yellowed with time. Squinting, you carefully deciphered the small, faded text, your breath hitching as the words sank in.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you read the details. It was about the fire. The west wing of the estate had burned to the ground, the family suffering one casualty. Lady Alya was 68 when she died. But as you scoured the pages for more, for proof, for confirmation, there was none. No death certificate. No record of her remains. Nothing.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers clamming as you reached the last document in the stack. It was a photograph, old and wrinkled. You brought it closer to the candlelight, and your breath left you in a sharp gasp.

It was her.

The old woman from your dream. The same hauntingly familiar face. The soft curve of her lips, the gentle slope of her nose, the sorrow lingering in her eyes—eyes that mirrored your own.

Your hands grew clammy, and the paper slipped slightly from your grasp. How was this possible?

The air in your room felt suddenly thick and suffocating. The candle flickered violently as a sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane. And then—

Thump.

It came from outside. A strange shuffling, wet and guttural.

You hesitated, Count Park’s words echoing in your mind, his warning to never go outside at night. But your curiosity, your fear, your need to understand, overpowered your reason.

Slowly, you reached for your coat, draping it over your shoulders before stepping toward the door. You moved carefully down the hall, the manor eerily silent, save for the howling wind beyond the walls.

You stepped outside the castle. The night was colder than usual, the wind sharp against your skin. The moon cast a dim glow over the grounds, stretching shadows across the frost-covered earth. Your breath came out in quiet puffs as you followed the sound, your feet crunching softly against the gravel.

Then you saw it, the origin of the sound.

It was a dark figure crouched over something in the grass, its shoulders rising and falling with each grotesque movement. There was a sickening squelch, a wet tearing noise that filled the air. You felt your stomach churn as you took another step closer, a sudden crunch of the autumn leaves giving away your presence.

The figure’s head snapped up.

Your heart stopped.

It was him.

The Count.

But he wasn’t the man you knew.

His lips were stained red, fresh blood dripping from his chin. His eyes, normally dark and heavy, were an inhuman shade of crimson, glowing like embers in the night. His fangs, long and glistening, protruded from his parted lips. And in his grasp, limp and lifeless, was the body of a cat, its black fur matted with blood.

A choked gasp left your throat.

Count Park froze, his expression undecipherable, though something flickered in his monstrous gaze—something almost like regret.

But it was too late.

Your vision blurred. Your head spun.

And then, the darkness took you.

taglist: @a1sh1teruu @filmnings @professormingisglasses @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @yunyunrin-reads @seonghwasstar @innocygnet @oreoqueen

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act V: the fire ➜

[justbelievinginmagic]

like a waltz⎯ part 2: fondu.

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader; this chapter is heavily wooyoung x reader focused with a bit of san x reader & yeosang x reader! series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession? glimpse: wooyoung and you dance around one another for a month - will he commit to being your patron or will it all be a fun game for the mysterious stranger? somewhere in the distant future, you wake up. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e if i think itd be cool to include, this world has it earlier than irl), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, allusions to sex work in ballet, allusions to exploitation in ballet, implied sexual themes (not really for reader x ateez), strong language, ballet lore, angst, fluff, flirting, suggestive topics, lies, manipulation, wooyoung is a sweet gentleman, medical drugs, traumatic foot injury, unequal power dynamics, injuries, alcohol mention, reader discretion advised, +18 readers only. let me know if there are any more tags i should add. a/n: hi! i'm not completely happy with this chapter (mostly the ending) but it has doubled in word count so I thought itd be good enough lol. i love woo in this fic, he's sweet and flirty. he is the glue for the entire polyteez x reader later on. let me know what you thought of this chapter plssss. next chapter will probably have yunho x reader :) word count: 11k first chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

fondu; french pronunciation: [fawn-DEW]; sinking down, melting.

That wasn’t the last time she saw Wooyoung in the ballet boudoir. No, for the next seven days, he was there for every show whether it was a matinee or evening performance. He’d be there, sitting in his box - the cursed box number eight – dressed to the nines. She swore his eyes only watched her when she was performing; it felt like her own shining spotlight, chasing after her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth across the stage. It felt electric as she took glances up at his box to see his curled lips and opera glasses peering down at her. YN didn’t wonder where he looked when she was in the wings, because no matter what he’d visit her.

Her.

Not the other girls.

Not the Prima Ballerina.

Her.

During intermission and after the show, he’d be waiting beside the small vanity (the one she shared with four other ensemble members.) Never did his gaze stray to the other girls – and some tried to tempt. He was one of the most attractive men they’ve had in a long time, and the air of mystery he held was intoxicating. A viable bachelor, a way to climb. Ballerinas were hard-workers after all; they loved and knew the long game.

They’d swish past him in their enticing leotards, skin-tight with no tutu to complete their look. They would bare their neck as they gathered their long hair into a bun. Glance at him through their lashes as they stretched.

Still, he waited patiently, arms crossed as he leaned back against the white vanity’s desk. His brooding eyes zeroed in on the boudoir’s doors. Only when he caught her in his sight did he light up like a firework across the night sky.

“Hello swanette,” he’d coo out with the sweetest grin, hand outstretched to her.

“Hello Wooyoung,” it felt dangerous to call him by his first name, intimate. None of the others ballerinas called their patron by their first name – even the ones fucking one another.

YN wasn’t stupid or oblivious. She knew what this was – what this could end up being. She’d watch the prima ballerina, the principal dancers, really all of the rising starlets of the ballet over the years. They all covered their kiss-bruised skin with make-up, tugged on thick nylon tights that would hide their patron’s affections from audience’s view. She wasn’t sure if she wanted that – even with Wooyoung’s handsomeness. In some ways, her pride bit at the thought with rabid hatred; sourness on her tongue at the thought of not truly being different, not truly earning her way to the top.

Regardless of her conflicted feelings, Wooyoung hadn’t hinted at any of that – even after a week. He hadn’t provided monetary aid either so perhaps he was waiting. A bittered part of YN never understood patrons who didn’t sleep with their proteges. (But then again, it was rare to begin with. She hadn’t met one prima ballerina, one feature dancer who hadn’t slept with their patron.) She was always half-expecting him to let his hands dip lower and lower or high and higher, but, to her surprise, they remained fairly decent. He liked grabbing her waist, his thumb would rub circles over the boning over her bodice but it’d stay relatively far from anything intimate. (Any touch from a man in the public society was intimate though. She still flushed and felt the rush of feelings she didn’t quite understand how to place.) In her mind, he had yet to make a move.

Not even a cheeky kiss.

…

It was nice.

He was nice. She could sometimes forget that he paid to sit and talk to her in-between dances. He smelt nice; he looked nice; he acted nice. The fancy-free touches he gave with little thought were something she could enjoy considering the worser options. (Julia had covered up a nasty bite mark on her collarbone the other night.)

Wooyoung and her would speak of nonsense most nights – idle gossip, comments about the show, the dancers, the town-folk, and the bourgeoise that sat in the seats of the theatre. Who’s who in this town? He’d wonder, and she’s point them out under her breath; the men of the high-class with their wandering eyes and their wandering hands all over their own ballerina. Far cruder touches than Wooyoung’s reverent gentleness as he leaned close into her bubble to hear her whispers.

“That man is the owner of the factories popping up across the port,” she’d tell him, pointing with a lithe finger. (Luckily, all the men had one thing in common; they’d never glance upon another patron’s ballerina; they’d never look their way as long as Wooyoung remained distant.)

“Shohei Takahashi.” YN said, watching as the rich factory-owner pressed a greedy kiss to the mouth of the ballerina of his choice. “Huge factories with little pay. I blame the winter gloom on him.”

Shifting her gaze, Wooyoung followed her eyeline easily as he raised his drink to his mouth.

“That’s Lord Frederickson; he’s the biggest importer of goods. Owns the port and its processing factories. Anything coming in and out goes through him. He’s favored by the King – if you believe the King still has a say around these parts.” Wooyoung smirked at that as he watched her jump to the next.

“Kim Dohyun – big shot in the banks,” she said. “I think he’s trying to start a monopoly, but what do I know?”

“A lot,” Wooyoung replied, quickly, before taking a swig of his drink. His dark eyes slid over each man with a snake’s laziness before he locked his attention on her. “Brilliance and beauty.”

“Charmer.” She teased.

“Only for you.”

He’d flatter, flirt, and call her all sorts of sweet names. Beautiful, swanette, little swan, pretty swan, pretty.

-

The ballet was good for two things – pretty art and petty gossip. And despite her claiming she was an artist, first and foremost, she liked gossip just like anyone else. She was used to listening in, eavesdropping, or being told the news by the youngers. It wasn’t often she was the one gossiping.

“C’mon, he didn’t comment at all about Wooyoung?” YN asked one of the older ballerinas before a show.

“No, YN. He didn’t.”

It was a snap of an answer, but she couldn’t blame her. It was the third time she had asked. (Tiny had gotten her habits from someone after all.)

“I heard from someone that he was, like, like, a runaway prince,” said a younger girl, sighing out as she clung to the barre. “He’s as handsome as one.”

“Princes don’t run to Cromer,” Julia commented, tying her hair into a bun.

“But Lords do?” Everly snorted.

“Ha-ha-ha,” she sarcasmed out. “At least I’m getting my costume paid for next season,” Julia countered, tossing a sweater towards the other girl.

“So, none of the other patrons know him?” YN tried again, falling into a full stretch in frustration. Hunched over, she huffed.

“Nope – could be a traveler. You haven’t asked him?” Mina retorted.

YN struck a nasty face at that, scrunching up her nose. As if. Of course she has. All she had gotten was basics. He was from Aurora. He was in town for a while. That’s all she ever got from him.

Did he like the show? Of course, you were in it.

How was his day? Better now that he was here.

How was his stay in Cromer? Was it always this cold? He was too used to Aurora’s temperatures; he missed the bright sun and humidity.

What did he do for a living? Charm you.

It was like a game of chess, trying to get actual answers out of him. If he wasn’t so fun to talk to about other things, she’d be frustrated. Or more frustrated. After all, Wooyoung wasn’t like the other men in town – he was new and exciting. Despite all his mystery, despite the tell-tale hints of tragedy as a protégé and patron, she couldn’t help but begin to fall for the bright smile that greeted her at intermission.

-

It had been two weeks. He’s slowed his attendance to only every other night, warning her that he had other business to attend to on certain days. But he’d still hover around her vanity when he did show. He’d gotten more nosy she noticed. Not in a bad way. Fingers prodded at the make-up containers; he’d peer into her bag, spotting her folded clothes and sometimes a book or two in it. She noticed from the corner of her eye as she’d get ready for the next act, shimming into another feathered costume.

He’d lean on the edge of the vanity, giving her more room than usual and talking but not saying much and always, always, averting his eyes. It made a warmth bubble in her chest. Respect. He respected her. It was rare here. In under a few seconds, she had the new bodice on, snapped and tied with ease. Her skirt shimmied on and fluffed.

“Decent, little swan?” he queried, eyes still facing towards the ceiling.

With a true smile, she’d nod. Tonight, with affection bubbling in her chest, she reached out to cup his chin with gentle fingers and guide his face down to meet her gaze. His skin felt electric-hot beneath her fingertips like the hum of new-powered light bulbs at the cinema.

“Hello pretty,” he crooned. A tempting smile crossed his face as he shifted forward at her guidance. His fingers pressed against the vanity shifted to land on her waist. He liked the way the feathers felt, the beads he could fiddle with, and the warmth radiating from her.

“Spin for me?” he encouraged.

She held back an eye roll of fondness; when had she grown so fond?; he had seen this costume far too many times, but each time he had her spin about, and he’d grin and flatter and flirt. And she’d flush and flutter.

As she twirled, his fingers barely left her waist, feeling the fabric, feathers and beading twist and tug at him with her movement. He wished her hair would be out of the perfect tight bun, so it’d flow down freely. But Wooyoung didnt encourage such a thought – he was a reasonable man. For now.

“Beautiful,” he complimented, tugging her by her waist to stand in between his legs.

His fine velvet pants brushed against her nylon-tight clad legs. His fingers fiddled over her waist, dancing across beads and sequins, handsewn and delicate. Just like every night. He didn’t climb higher or lower, simply thrummed his fingers across her mid-section as he smiled at her pleasantly. 

“She makes it, you know,” there was an exclamation from a local eavesdropper, Tiny.

The youngster grinned over at Wooyoung from her spot, warming up on the floor. The little girl was cute in the eyes of Wooyoung; the tiny ballerina flashed him an innocent smile even when YN glared at the younger with a clear look of ‘shut up.’

“Makes what, kid?” he queried, glancing her way.

“Her costumes! We all do – or well, we all pay for them. Not YN though! She sews ‘em; all of hers are made by her!”

“Tiny,” YN tried to hush, but Wooyoung squeezed her waist playfully firm.

“Really?”

His tone was melodic as his gaze trailed from the tips of YN’s ballet shoes over her long-toned legs clad in white stockings with the smallest of rhinestones sewn into the fabric… over the white tutu before trailing around her bejeweled waist of beads, false pearls, and feathers. The feathers curved around her, hugging her chest. Everything was tied together with the pretty white-feathered clips in her hair. Everything looked exquisite.  

“You never told me that,” Wooyoung commented. He pouted at her.

That wasn’t the reaction she expected. Surprise, yes. Perhaps pity? Perhaps disgust? She couldn’t afford a seamstress after all. It was embarrassing.

“You never asked,” YN retorted.

He smirked, a rumble of a pleased laugh bubbling in his chest.

“I guess I hadn’t,” he admitted.

Had he asked anything about her… other than her dancing talent and the daily gossip of the theatrical world? He tilted his head as he took her in again. How much did she know about him?

Some questions he answered; others he twisted words until they were onto another conversation. His questions remained on her work. How long had she been in the ballet? How did a beautiful talented woman not have a starring role? Did she like it here? Did she like him?

Their conversations always ended back to that. More times than not she thought he was playing her like a cat would play with a mouse. While he paid for entrance to the foyer de la danse, like most of her suitors, he had not taken her up as a protégé. Most of the girls who had a patron reassured her that it took time. Some had to fall to their knees first before he agreed.

So, now when his head tilted as he examined her, it felt like the air changed. Ever magnetic but something deeper as his finger picked at a bead with his fingernail.

“You made this?” he asked again, fingering at the beadwork.

Its intricate pattern caught the light on stage beautifully, but he never noticed it made a pattern of a lily pad, ‘til now.

“Yes,” she said, shivering as his touch tickled her ribs.

He noticed her glancing aside, almost shy.

“What other talents do you have, swanette?” He queried, voice low.

“Far too many,” she teased before she escaped his grasp to go towards the now empty-vanity.

Tease them, the older ballerinas had advised. They like a chase, just be sure to let them catch you every now and then. Julia had told her.

There was the stain from their first meeting. A remnant of his rouge-covered fingers in the fine-wood of the ivory vanity. It never seemed to leave despite her scrubbing. Her finger brushed over it on its way to pick up a powder puff to press it into her skin. Wooyoung’s fingers trailed over her arm, looking over her shoulder in the mirror.

“You surprise me,” he admitted. “You know my hyungs love fashion – they’d love to meet you.”

“You don’t know my fashion-taste, Mr. Jung,” she told him, raising a brow. “Just my costumier’s taste.”

“Oh, Mr. Jung, hm,” he repeated in a tut. His chin pressed into her shoulder, face tilting ‘til his lips nearly pressed against her skin. Hot breath fanned over her shoulder down her chest. Gooseflesh tickled up her spin.

“Did I upset you?” he teased before whispering in her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask about your pretty costume.”

She snorted, a bit unlady-like but it made his own lips twitch into a smile. He liked her smiling.

“It’s okay, Wooyoung,” she replied simply. “I didn’t expect you to.”

This wasn’t what the patrons wanted to talk about. Men never spoke of such things.

“I should’ve,” he corrected her. “I want to know about you.”

The air burned for a moment between them, his dark eyes settled on her in the mirror with the pull that only gravity had on someone. There was more here. In these moments, it didn’t feel like a game or an agreement or a partnership of exchange. Not when he looked at her like that.

“So, you sew?” he asked, still closer than acceptable for their society. Pressed into her back, his arms trapping her in. He urged her to lean into him, his chest broad against her back.

“My mother is a seamstress – was. She’s now in a factory rather than an independent shop.” She admitted. “I learned from her.”

“What about your dad?” he asked.

She shook her head before going to pressing powder into her skin with a puff. He huffed a bit as the perfumed thing invaded his nose.

“Not around anymore.”

“What did he do? Did he leave some coin around for you and your ma’?” he asked.

YN sighed out, reaching for the rouge pot next. “Miner. There used to be diamond and gold mines outside of town. I mean, there still are, but they aren’t like they were before. He never found anything worth anything – and when there was a cave in,” she sighed again. “My mother had always provided more; he didn’t leave much. Except me…”

Wooyoung’s hand soothed up and down her arm

“I can’t remember my ‘ma or ‘pa. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t define me. Don’t know much about them - if they sewed or worked at all. I just knew I had to work to survive.” He stated casually. “But Hongjoong, he’s like my brother - he sews in his free time. He’s made all sorts of things for us. So, I know a bit about that.”

Us… it was the first time Wooyoung had mentioned others. This was the first time she had learned anything about the mysterious man. YN itched to ask more about who us were, more about Hongjoong, more about what he had done growing up. How did he end up here, dripping in enough coin to go to countless shows, countless ballet boudoir meetings. But she didn’t know if she could. She didn’t want to pressure him. Push him.

“Maybe I’ll meet him one day?” she instead led, following his thought from moments ago. “Hongjoong and your hyungs?” she added. C’mon, tell me more, tell me more.

Wooyoung smiled bright, almost excitedly before his face fell dramatically. He was prone to that she’d noticed, ever expressive despite the stony gaze that fell over him when he didn’t know she was looking. His grin tumbled into a pout, big lips pressing out and puppy dog eyes gleaming in the gas-light.

He held her closer. “Not yet. I like having you to myself. They love the ballet – they’d love you.”

They. Us. Again, he spoke of others.

Who were they?

They’d love her?

-

In the third week, Wooyoung offered to buy her drinks from the Opera House’s bar, and she always refused. She didn’t want to fall into his arms intoxicated – especially with her aching muscles already. Alcohol wouldn’t help recovery. Instead, he made a game of bringing back a sweet from the concessions. Ones that the kids in the audience would nibble on. It’d always be half-eaten by the time he joined her in the boudoir – which made her smile. It felt intimate as she snacked on the other half of a cookie or taffy after the show. She’d sit on top of the vanity as he watched her eat.

It was during these times they began to talk about what they liked. Sweet or sour? Spicy or mild? What’s your favorite color? Hot or cold? What’s your favorite food? Favorite season? Favorite song?

She learned a lot about him. And he was sweet. His answers were sentimental as he yapped and yapped.

“I like seafood more than anything,” he said in between bites of the cookie she shared with him.

The boudoir was growing colder; the radiator had been turned off for the night. The hallway outside of the room was dim. She was in her own clothes for the first time; her costume hung in the costumier’s closet. Her worn-brown jacket was drawn tight as she and him sat on the vanity.

“Meat over vegetables for sure. But, any stew needs to have vegetables to feel right. But shrimp, mussels, clams, oh, tofu is needed too! Seonghwa makes the best stew – it reminds me of Aurora.”

He could ramble on and on, and YN didn’t mind it was so late as she made mental notes. Not just of the names he’d drop every now and then but his favorites. His preferences. She’d think about it as she made her own meals late at night – while she stood in front of the stove and stirred her potatoes and gravy. Was Aurora seafood better than Cromer’s? She’s only ever had the smallest of fish if they could afford one.

They were the last to leave the opera house that night, practically kicked out by the Madame who insisted upon the time. The moon hung high above them as they walked onto the main street of Cromer. The streetlights were lit; some flickered in the cold air; after all, not all lamps were gas yet. The cobblestones were wet with rain from earlier in the night.

“Let me walk you home?” Wooyoung asked. He was haloed in a gentle lamplight. His cheeks were round from eating the last of their shared treat and his eyes almost sparkled.

She swallowed. Don’t let them into your house; their house is the only fair game. She had heard the ballerinas warn her. Some even insisted on not letting them take you anywhere beyond the Opera House’s porch. There were plenty of spare rooms, they said.

Wooyoung was able to read her easier by the day.

“It’s late, YN. Please.” He insisted. “I’m a gentleman.”

His arm was offered, politely.

It was cold; rain was clinging to the clouds, tempting to pour.

He gave her another look, half-stern… half bratty? Wooyoung nudged his arm again in her direction.

“O—kay,” she conceded after a moment, taking his arm. He was warm against the cold.

But that was just Wooyoung after all.

-

“I saw YN walking home with her patron!” The gossip was electric the next morning.

“They’re in love,” Tiny swooned.

“They don’t know each other!” Another chimed.

“Did you—” there was a question on the tip of their tongues.

“Was he-“

“Had they-“

“No, no; he was a perfect gentleman,” YN reassured. “He stayed on the street as I entered my apartment. My mother had been watching from the windowsill. He simply waved and was off.”

Some of the ballerinas hummed their relief; others huffed their discontent.

“He’ll declare his patronage any day,” Julia whispered to her. “He has to.”

-

On the next Saturday, Wooyoung had ‘snuck’ in before the show. It was not often a patron was allowed before the show – it wasn’t as ‘exciting’ as intermission or after the show. The girls would be in their own clothes, usually warming up or trying to stay warm in the chilly room. His cheeks were flushed from the falling snow; he looked youthful as he bounded up to her, surprising her. Cold hands grasped hers as he spun her about.

Her hair was down. Her costume on, but her feet were in thick wool socks, and her face bare of makeup. It was a surprise he was here, and she felt the flare of insecurity, of worry, flush over her. He hadn’t seen her not so imperfect. Ballerinas were meant to be perfect. Wooyoung didn’t seem concerned as he lifted her into his arms to twirl her again as he chuckled and giggled. He sounded a bit like a hyena but it only made contagious giggles tumble from her own lips.

“Wooyoung,” she giggled nervously as he whirled them about.

All eyes watched her and him; some girls whispered in each other’s ears.

“Happy anniversary, pretty swan,” he chimed out as he finally set her back on the ground.

He looked at her with such innocent joy. His hands shifted from her form to cup her jaw and squeeze her cheeks. Over the past few weeks, his touchiness had grown. His favorite was to do just this, squish her cheeks fondly.

Dark eyes stroked over her features; her cheeks were pink beneath his fingers. Her eyes were bare of charcoal. Her lips were a nude shade. He noticed that despite his cold hands from the wintery outside that she was equally chilly… the entire boudoir felt cold at this time actually. A miniscule purse of his brow crinkled his forehead.

“Anniversary?” YN queried, raising a brow. Her hand rose to stroke the back of his hand softly, her blunt nails circling his skin.

The butterflies fluttered in her ribs, nibbling at her bones warningly. He was celebrating their anniversary? Had any patron done that? She’d have to ask the others.

He looked almost annoyed as if shocked she’d forget the day they met. The glower on his brow was handsome and statuesque before he frowned at her seriously. Her blood felt like fire, then; the skin on the back of her neck turned a clammy hot.

“It’s been a month,” he said, the words not as strict as his face. Instead, it sounded like a reprimanded child’s voice.

“Oh! I know that; I didn’t know you’d celebrate it,” she admitted, warm eared.

And she did. She hadn’t had a patron-suitor this long before but she kept count of the days. Noting them down with precision as she did with everything in her life.

He huffed; perfectly gelled hair fluttering with the action. Grumbling under his breath childishly of this and that, he took a too-close step into their embrace. His leg found a way between hers. He was so warm despite the melting snow on his outer coat.

“Of course I would,” he grumbled, thumbs going over the apples of her cheeks. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I do like it! I assume you’d-”

He was babbling at this point, grumbling about this and that quickly. She giggled, and his frustrations eased at its sound.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, hand squeezing one of his hands gently. “I’ve liked getting to know you, too.”

And she had gotten to know him… somewhat. His favorite foods, books, art, and whatnot. She knew that he had moved here over the past month, that he liked the ballet but loved theatre more. Singing was his favorite thing. He had money. He had asked her far more about herself. He knew she’d lived here her entire life, practiced at the company for nearly just as long as she’s breathed. He knew about her family and her mother’s-tired rants after a day at the factory. He knew what treat she favored; he knew that she got cold easily. He still felt like a stranger despite their closeness. Like all she saw was what he wanted her to.

“Of course, you have,” he preened before stepping back.

His hands left her cheeks to present a small velveteen gift box, almost magically.

“Now, accept my gift, pretty.”

She awed at it, insisting he didn’t need to while equally feeling chuffed that he got her something. It was a small box, and her mind raced to think of what could be within. Jewels, diamonds, perhaps it was just a trick… or a treat. Whatever it was she felt a hum of excitement. With a fond look at him, she took the box and opened it.

A pretty pearl necklace rested on a crushed-velveteen cushion. Polished silver-white pearls. She had never had pearls before. Never seen them so up close. Only replica pearls made of melted plastic were what she knew. These had a different sheen, a prettiness to them that felt ethereal.

Pearls were expensive; pearls are things upper-class women wore in multiple loops across their bared throats to tempt their partners to glance down at their bosom. They are status-symbols. She would’ve never been able to afford these – not even just one pearl. Meanwhile, he had bought her a long, long strand, long enough she could wear it in multiple loops. They glimmered and shined in the lamp-light as she carefully reached out to graze their pearlescent surfaces.

“Woo,” she breathed out. “They’re beautiful.”

She hadn’t expected this sort of gift – especially after how little monetary incentive came from him. Her eyes rose from the gift to meet his eyes. They were watching her face with tenderness. His smile curled on his lips, and he couldn’t help the rumble of a fond chuckle from bubbling up in his chest.

“To match you,” he said, easily, before his fingers grazed hers to lift the necklace. “Turn around, baby.”

Baby… he hadn’t called her that yet – just as she hadn’t ever called him Woo. He noticed that and couldn’t help the thrum of excitement, puppy love, adoration, whatever you call it, go through his veins.

YN did turn. Her hair was pushed aside by now-warm hands. Frowning, he felt how icy her skin was; she shivered as the pearls caressed her bare skin. Carefully, he clasped the pearls about her throat ‘til they rested across her decolletage in a double string of pearls.

She stared into the vanity’s mirror. Wooyoung smiled over her shoulder, content as a cat as he watched her admire herself. He sighed, fingers rearranging her hair to rest around her attractively. His fingertips grazed her hair for the first time, fondly, and playfully as he tousled her strands. His hands landed on her shoulders; she was cold, cold, cold. His hands slid from her shoulders to her biceps slow.

“So beautiful,” he sighed. “The necklace looks good, too,” he teased as an afterword, close to her ear.

Her cheeks flushed. A hand rose to stroke over the gift admiringly.

“It is pretty, thank you,” she turned around in his embrace, his hands sliding over her shoulders as she did so. He cornered her to the table. Her hands rested on his forearms, thumb brushing over his coat. She wiped away at some fallen snow, melting on the rich fabric. Glancing up with a genuine smile, she asked him: “What shall I gift you?”

He hummed low. Fingers slid up her arms slowly, eyes grazing over her face thoughtfully. Before he proceeded to unbutton his fine-woven coat-jacket. Her breath caught. What was he doing? Her eyes flickered from him to the room around them. Many of the girls were watching them brazenly. Some with lovestruck eyes as if witnessing some penny film in the nickelodeon; some were looking with jealous-ridden eyes.

She licked her lips, a flash nervous as he shook off his jacket with ease to reveal a fine silk tunic. It was a dark color; she realized he had worn nothing but black each night. Like a night sky shining with starlit clouds, the fabrics clung to his frame temptingly. She glanced up to his face as he swooshed his jacket over her bared shoulders. 

It engulfed her in warmth, his warmth. The intoxicating smell she had begun to recognize as Wooyoung smothered her. The deep spiced-floral cologne filled her senses of him, him, him.

She couldn’t help but let out a jittery breath, not expecting this from him as he smiled down at her, satisfied. He didn’t do much more. She wasn’t sure what she was worried he was going to do in first place.

“Wear them for me during the performance?” he requested.

YN shifted her arms, a hand raising to touch the pearls around her throat again before her other hand rose to catch the coat from slipping off her shoulders. His own hands rose to rearrange the jacket over her, rubbing her arms up and down slowly.

That was all he asked for? Even now, she knew other patrons would request far more. A kiss even wouldn’t have surprised her to be honest – he could’ve stolen one from her lips and not a person would’ve batted an eye in the boudoir. Instead, he warmed her, thumb grazing up and down her now-jacketed arm.

“I will,” she acquiesced. “The Madame might be upset at the costume violation,” she teased lightly. “But, I will do it for you.”

He laughed, the thing a crow-like tone. He hadn’t shifted from her, hands rubbing up and down still. “If she does, I’ll handle it. A pretty girl like you deserves pretty things. And to show off those pretty things.”

She smiled at him. She shocked herself as she rose up onto the tips of her toes, easily with her experience on-pointe, and pressed a sweet fleeting kiss to his cheek. She could smell his after-shave; his skin was soft and warm and inviting before she pulled away to smile up at him.

“Happy month of knowing you, Wooyoung.”

“Here’s to many more,” he smiled warmly.

-

The pearls clung to her neck tightly, tighter than how Wooyoung had clasped them. They needed to be so they wouldn’t clank and clink into her face with each pirouette and jete. She stood out in the ensemble with the pearls gleaming on her throat. No other ballerina bore real pearls except her. No one – not even Odette. And for once, she felt the eyes of the crowd on her. There was a murmur in the crowd; some pointed. But all she could do was search for Wooyoung’s eyes. 

She had a bad habit of looking up at Box 8 in general now. Her gaze would flicker up and up, head tilting as she snuck small glances towards the private box Wooyoung had claimed. Usually, she’d catch his eyes, staring at her solely and smiling a small smirk in the shadows of the theatre.

But it wasn’t just him today. In the shadows of the theatre, she could see his familiar form, his opera glasses glinting in the low gas light of the grand chandelier. But behind him, dark blurs of shades, were other figures. She squinted.

It shocked her at first, doing a double take as she performed a jete.

What? Who?

There were others with him; he turned to say something to the one beside him.

It surprised her that she knew the form of him so well to know even in darkness and distance that he sat in the front. But she knew in her core as the figure turned back to look at the stage. Wooyoung sat in the front in his usual spot. A figure sat beside him, shadowed in a brimmed hat. And one, or was it two, figures shifted behind him.

When she left the stage, she remained waiting in the wings, peering and squinting at his box.

“He has guests,” an older ballerina whispered in her ear, startling her.

“Is there a woman?” she whispered back, trying to get a good sense of the forms.

It looked like ghosts behind him, two…or maybe three shifting figures. She saw one lean forward and cup a large looking hand against Wooyoung’s ear. Glinting rings winked at her, taunting her as fingers hid the stranger’s face from view.

“That one looks like a man,” the same ballerina advised to her.

They both squinted as a reflection from the Odette’s glamourized costume glared into their eyes. Looking away, YN rubbed her eyes before looking back at the box. It looked like only three figures now.

“What of the other… others?” she asked.

“I can’t see.”

“Neither can I.”

All she knew was Wooyoung was not alone.

-

She tried asking about as they waited for the next cue – was there men? Was there women? What can you see? But when they crept onstage once more for their small promenade across the stage as a ‘flock’ of swans, her stomach dropped.

Box 8 was empty.

-

He didn’t come visit during intermission, and she felt uneasy. Had he left? Why? A childish part of her cried out it was their anniversary. Her fingers fiddled with her pearls. The Madame glared at her addition as she passed the large open doors of the boudoir but said nothing.

-

He didn’t come after the show either.

-

When she crept out of the Opera House, her pearls were hidden beneath a coat. And there was no sight of Wooyoung outside. A fragile thing in her heart peeked out and she swallowed down the disappointment as she began her walk home in the cold snow.

Why had he left? He left mid-show with his friends? It burned despite the chill.

-

The next day, YN felt nerves eating up her stomach. She was a creature of habit, a person of rehearsals and repetition. Why hadn’t he shown? Why did he leave? Was he unhappy she hadn’t gotten him something? Was it due to the kiss? Was she too forward? Was he unhappy with her? He had never not shown up to the boudoir after a show. He had never left during a show, and he’d seen the show countless times now.

YN had arrived early to the boudoir, hoping to practice away her worries. Clad in her warmest clothes, she began to warm up on the floor.  She only got so far when she heard a voice.

“YN!”

It was Tiny. Her footsteps were a flurry of tip-tap-tapping as she rushed towards her. “YN!”

The little one hadn’t changed into her costume yet, wearing a dark brown skirt and matching orange blouse. A hooded cape kept her warm.

“He’s one of the new bachelors! He’s one of the bachelors!” the young girl cried out in excitement as she charged into the room. Her giggles were light and fluttery as she bounced on her toes. “The ones who have taken over the Ateez Mansion. He’s one of them! He’s one of them!”

“What?” She paused in her movements.

“Your patron! Your patron! It’s in the paper! Remember his box had more folk last night, right? It was the other bachelors!” she squealed. “I heard from the newsie! ‘Kim Yeosang, the finest tennis player this side of the Atiny Sea, spotted at the grand Cromer Opera House last night accompanied by frequent ballet goer Kim Wooyoung and others. This is the athlete’s first public appearance in Cromer since his move into the famed Ateez Mansion.’”

“Kim?” she queried.

Wooyoung had introduced himself by Jung Wooyoung.

“Maybe they’re brothers!” Tiny exclaimed. “An athlete, YN! He must be fit. And handsome!”

“And rich,” another ballerina commented from across the boudoir.

YN was still confused. “He’s never mentioned brothers – I mean, he mentioned he had friends that were like his brothers. But the only name I’ve heard has been Hongjoong… Seonghwa.”

Tiny repeated the names curiously. “I didn’t hear the newsies say those names. Just Yeosang and Wooyoung! Maybe it’s in the paper. Do you have 5 coins?”

5 coins! It made her splutter. When did she have money to toss at papers?

“No,” she laughed.

“Well, I just thought with the necklace and all – he hasn’t paid anything?” Tiny gossiped.

Her cheeks flushed as she shoved the tiny ballerina away. “Not yet.”

Her hand self-consciously fiddled with the pearl necklace. Kim Wooyoung. It felt weird to think rather than Jung Wooyoung. And, Kim Yeosang, she wondered. She hadn’t heard the name but she wasn’t privy to most sports. Who had time for sportly leisure in this age – especially as a trained ballerina? But a world-known tennis player… it made sense how he’d have money. Why move here? Sure, it was a major port, crawling with trade, but it was just Cromer.

Hongjoong. Seonghwa Yeosang. Wooyoung.

Who were they to Wooyoung?

Were they here last night? Were they the reason he left without even a note of warning?

-

That night he didn’t appear in his box. There was gossip amongst the girls.

“Maybe it was too good to be true.” A dancer taunted

YN. Jealous and envy were bitter dregs of ballet society.

She found herself playing with his necklace more and more.

-

“Miss YN, if you continue to fiddle with that god-forsaken necklace on stage, I’ll rip it off your neck myself.” The Madame croaked, her cane thudding against the floor during their debrief of the latest performance.

“Sorry,” YN managed to get out.

“Sorry doesn’t fix mistakes. Which you’ve been making. Your pirouettes were sloppy all evening; improve or else I shall remove you from the scene.” Her words went in one ear and out the other. Like they had all night. She was just in her head.

She had thought it was different between them – why had he given the cold shoulder? Was it the cold shoulder? She wasn’t sure. Weren’t things fine between them? He had gifted her pearls for goodness sake.

When had she begun to care about the relationship? YN had never cared for her patron-suitors but… she did like Wooyoung. Had she disappointed him? Had his guests warned him away?

She licked her lips, barely hearing the criticism pouring out of the mouth of the Madame of the Opera House.

-

The next day at intermission, there was a white-papered note on her vanity. Bounding up to it excitedly, hope in her stomach, she unfolded it to reveal the too-neat cursive script of the Madame.

‘Remove the necklace or face a fee for costume violations.’

Her necklace was gone the next act. She couldn’t face any more costs.

-

It was two weeks before she’d see Wooyoung again.

When he did return to the Opera House, it was done in a Wooyoung style. Rather than waiting until intermission, he strode through the boudoir’s door with the confidence of someone who owned the place like he had on their ‘anniversary’. YN was by the vanity per usual; make up caked on her face and her neck bare.

“Hello, pretty swanette,” he greeted, his arms wrapping around her waist in an embrace. The scent of him hit her like a train – she hadn’t realized she missed it. Missed him. Her jaw tightened in annoyance.

No, she didn’t want to miss him. He was the one disappearing like a ghost. No wonder he stayed at the Ateez Mansion; he fits right in with the phantom stories there. Her lips were stern as she painted on her rouge with a fine-precision brush. She tried to not to make eye contact with him, tried to not to seek out what he looked like tonight. Were his cheeks rose-flushed from the cold? Was he wearing the silken tunic or a warmer velvet?

“Swanette,” he repeated, shifting her in his arms. Swaying her softly.

Her head tilted; her face twitched as she placed the brush down and grabbed the coal-eyeliner pot.

“Oooh,” Wooyoung cooed out. Minty breath fanned over her neck. “You missed me.”

His voice wasn’t pleading or angry or upset. In fact, it was almost giddy. He took pleasure in her displeasure. It wasn’t like she was giving him attention – or perhaps the lack of attention was so obvious, it was simply attention all over again. Intentionally ignoring someone meant they were on your mind. He was on her mind. She wondered for a moment was he like her – searching for the spotlight.

She finished applying her eyeliner as she felt his lips almost touch her bared shoulder. Her jitter was clear and he chuckled. Dark eyes watched from over her shoulder.

“Your necklace is gone.” He commented, pouting. Long fingers tickled at her neck, as if the pearls were simply invisible around the column of it.

No reply as she placed the make-up down, shifting in his tight embrace but never leaving it, never breaking the bond of his arm around her midsection. He smiled at that. So, for a moment, he simply laid his chin on her shoulder – waiting. He was an optimistic man and, even if she was frustrated, she didn’t pull away from him.

“Your left brow twitches,” he noted casually after a while, making her brow furrow.

“When you’re angry.” He clarified.

“How do you know that?” she countered, breaking her silence with a bite.

He smiled at her words. He got her to talk.

“I know you, swanette – which is how I know you are upset with me. I’m sorry I was gone.” He apologized.

She swallowed and glanced to the side. It was silly to be angry at him. He’s just--- a man. A rich boy with too much money to flaunt. This entire situation was stupid. She never pined after a man, after a stupid patron, too. She focused on her work not men. When had seeing him made her so… excited? And when had not seeing him ruin her day?

His pout came into view as he reached out to tip her chin his way.

“What else, hm?” he urged, thumb petting at her chin. “I was gone for days unannounced but what else could be making you distant?” He sighed, searching her eyes. “Was your necklace not pretty enough? Were the girls cruel? Were-“

“You had guests that Saturday.”

His eyes sparkled at that almost like the gleam of ice in a whiskey glass. He smirked. “Yes, I wanted them to see you.”

“They - you didn’t come to the boudoir.” She followed up her statement, shifting her head from his grasp.

He paused before like a cat prowling his gaze fell into a lazy leer. “Is that why you’re upset with me?” he crooned.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t.” he cut her off, sharp but not cruel. There was a jingle of a singsong in his next words. “You were jealous.”

Now, that made her splutter. “I was not jealous!” she turned around to face him fully. “You left before intermission and then stayed away. I saw you whispering to them!”

“You didn’t like someone stealing me away from you,” Wooyoung continued, smirk on his lips.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she accused him. He was acting like he was the one being courted after not herself. “I-I just wanted—”

“You wanted to meet them, hm?” he swept in a step to wrap an arm about her waist. It was strangely comforting despite their conversation taking a bubbling turn. Almost as if he was reassuring her with his closeness. “Wanted me to show you off?”

She grimaced, not meeting his eyes. Did she? Over the weeks, she had felt a lot, conflicting and confusing.

“I got your hopes up, hm?” he continued to tease.

“Are they your brothers?” she countered, seriousness to his teasing. “Hongjoong? Yeosang? Seonghwa?”

“I told you I don’t know my family, no brothers to my name,” Wooyoung replied easily.

“Your name maybe, but what is your name? Mr. Kim Wooyoung?” she said, raising a brow. Wooyoung’s tongue licked over his teeth as a low bittered rumble of a chuckle built. “Or is it Mr. Jung Wooyoung?”

“Jung Wooyoung to you,” he hummed. “Hongjoong and Seonghwa got me out of a tight spot. Yeosang is like my brother; I trust him like one. You remember a lot, don’t you, swanette?”

She nodded tentatively. It didn’t answer her burning questions of why were they there with him and why did he give her a false last name or did the papers have the wrong one?

“He said you were the prettiest there. He had wanted to meet you – I wanted to show you off, swanette.” Wooyoung reassured.

“Why didn’t you?” it sounded of a whine and her cheeks burned in humiliation. Why did she want him? Was she so used to his praise and attention?

Thumbs went up and down her sides reassuringly. “We got pulled away, is all. It wasn’t intentional. I had wanted them to meet you. I swear it.”

Wooyoung was a charmer, she knew this. But his words tasted so sweet, so honey-sweet. It was hard to question him when it felt real.

“You didn’t mean to leave?” she asked, feeling foolish. Foolish for wanting to know, foolish for asking, foolish for caring at all.

“No,” he laughed out. “Trust me, I’d rather spend time with you than what I got caught up in.”

There was a pause as she took in his face. He had a faint cut over his brow, covered by his perfectly styled hair. Her eyes fell back to meet his gaze.

“Say you missed me?” he encouraged, leaning forward with a smirk. “It’s been weeks; you had to miss me?”

Was this a game? Was this the way patronage felt? A tug back and forth between enjoying their presence while being dreadfully aware that this was all paid pretty folly for them.

“I missed you,” he said when she took a moment too long.

Another beat hung in the air as she pressed her lips together, trying to decipher her confused emotions. There was just one emotion she could figure out.

“I missed you, Wooyoung.”

-

“What happened to your pretty pearl necklace?” He asked later that night. Their tension had eased only a smidge. He sat on the corner of the vanity; multiple treats sat beside him on a silver platter. An apology he said. It had all of her favorites.

“Madame requested I no longer wear it. I’d receive a fee to my costs.”

He scoffed. “Stupid. I’ll talk to her.”

“She won’t take to talking,” she laughed. “She’s the worst woman I’ve ever met.”

“Does she give you a hard time?” he queried.

YN nodded her head as she took a bite out of brownie.

“She’s always disliked me,” she admitted. “I wasn’t as dedicated to dance when I was young. I liked reading and wanted to go to school like the rich girls in the audience. Madame thought I was disobedient.”

“You were just carving your way,” he said.

She shrugged as she offered the other half of the brownie to Wooyoung. He took a nibble, his mouth forming over her own bite.

“I’ll pay the fee,” he said softly after a moment. “Wear it tomorrow.”

He reached up to tuck a strand of her free hair behind her ear.

-

There was someone with him once more. Box #8 looked cramped with Wooyoung and this mysterious man sitting side by side. Throughout the entire act, all she could see was them. Wooyoung grinning and whispering to the mystery man.

Waiting in the boudoir, the pearl necklace around her neck felt hot, like it was on fire. When Wooyoung bounded inside, he looked ecstatic. 

“I brought someone to see you,” Wooyoung revealed in a false whisper, the tone muddled loud with excitement like a child keeping a secret. “I told you I wanted to show you off.”

His hands squeezed hers before with a flourish he spun her around. Hands leaving hers only to find home on her waist. Holding her steady as she was faced with the broad chest of a suited man. Fine fabric draped over his form, tailored from his large shoulders to his lean waist. Spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose, a gleam over his eyes. His hair neatly gelled back into a pompadour.

“Swanette,” Wooyoung’s timbre of a voice was close to her ear; so close, that he could smell her perfume, her hairspray, her hair gel – all aromas that made up the blossoming scent that was uniquely her. Intoxicating. His breath kissed her skin and made her shiver. She could feel the pearly white of his teeth smile against her. “YN, this is San.”

San smiled a smirk down at the dancer, his amber brown eyes flickering to look at Wooyoung. Approval burned in his eyes, and Wooyoung’s grin grew.

San’s hands weren’t large or imposing like his form as he reached for her hand. With gentleness, he clasped her hand and raised it to his mouth. The cat-like smirk didn’t fade even as he pressed a short kiss to her knuckles.

“Miss Y/N, Wooyoung has spoken so much about you,” San’s voice was lower than Wooyoung’s, and it held a honey sweet tone. He hadn’t let go of her hand. “You are a beautiful, talented dancer.”

“Thank you,” she shook his hand softly. “I appreciate your kind words. And it’s nice to meet one of Wooyoung’s friends.”

Wooyoung’s chest rumbled against her back. He squeezed her hips, fingering the place where the beads of her bodice meet her tutu.

“Sannie is my best friend,” he whispered close to her ear. “And he isn’t a kind-worded man; you must’ve really wooed him, swanette.”

San rolled his eyes, hearing Wooyoung’s words. His fingers twitched in her grasp before he let go of her hand carefully.

“Don’t slander me.” He warned before his eyes settled back fondly on her. “I’m a very nice person, little bird.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “How do you know Woo – did you grow up in Aurora?”

San’s face twitched at the mention of Wooyoung’s previous hometown. “I’ve known Wooyoung since we were tots.” he said, agreeing.

“Do you stay at the Ateez Mansion as well?” she queried.

San nodded. “I do.”

“He likes to decorate the place. He like shiny things.” Wooyoung added, half nuzzling into her shoulder.

“And he likes to blab, if you haven’t noticed,” San countered. “I thought this was time for me to meet the woman you couldn’t shut up about?”

Wooyoung’s hands rose off of her waist in defense at his friend. A curling smirk on his lips, teasing… bratty.

“Excuse me,” he snarked. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

He stepped away, making her turn to glance at Wooyoung. His face looked serious but there was the air of teasing that Wooyoung just had. His dark eyes shifted from his friend to her with a cat-like slowness.

“I’ll be back,” he pressed a quick kiss to her temple, surprising her.

Her heart jumped and stuttered. He had never done that before. Her ears turned bright red to rival her rouge lipstick.

San smiled at her, his first true smile. It wasn’t curling or seductive but boyish. A grin that made his eyes shut and his nose scrunch. A soft laugh rumbled from his chest. He eyed her with that same grin as she rubbed her temple where his lips had touched, shocked.

She looked after Wooyoung as he scurried away, a rhythm to his steps. His hands tucked cooly into his jacket. If he had been facing her, she’d see the coy grin, boyishly spread on his face. Maybe a cocked eyebrow.

“He’s affectionate,” San revealed. “I’m surprised he hadn’t stolen a kiss yet.”

“He’s a gentleman,” she defended, blushing.

“Gentleman, huh?” the broad-shouldered man repeated with a lilting brow.  He glanced towards the multi-storied doors that he just passed through.

“As much as a man can be while spending money for the boudoir,” she commented. She blinked once and then twice. “I mean— all the men here are gentlemen. . . “ Her laugh was awkward, fumbling.

Perhaps the kiss shook her up a bit too much or YN was surprisingly too comfortable around San already – loose lipped enough to break the allusion of the foyer de la danse. There was a pause before he leaned in. She leaned away out of instinct, hands and form pressing backwards into the vanity. San’s smile hadn’t shifted from his lips nor did the playful grin change to anything offended. He kept her trapped there.

“I don’t know much about this opera or ballet shit,” San admitted, his voice bashful despite his profanity as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “While my household have plenty of enthusiasts... I’m a bit of a novice at this, Miss YN.”

It was charming his confidence in not knowing. It was also charming how he covered for her insult, shifting the attention.

“I see,” she murmured. 

“This is all new to me,” he glanced this way and that at the room. “Wooyo had said he had befriended the prettiest dancer, not that he came to this. What is this place?”

He didn’t sound cruel or tricking. He sounded curious if anything. He leaned forward on the vanity, one arm pressing into the wood to hold his weight as he leaned in close. It reminded her of when she and Wooyoung met. The closeness, the intimacy, the magnetic energy. She thought it was strange to have it with one person, let alone two, but here they were.  

She licked her lips as she ghosted after his gaze around the room. The boudoir in front of her looked like its own scene out of an opera or play. Every girl in their spot; every patron a leading role in their own fantasy.

“Ballet is costly, Mr. San,” she started, her tone low and quiet. He hummed in response.

“These gentlemen-” she continued her post-humous correction through gritted teeth. She saw one of the regular patrons slide a hand over a ballerina’s thigh lower and lower. YN scowled, looking away for the benefit of the girl. “-pay. They pay to see us up close, to talk to us. Our time is theirs.”

“And?” he continued, tearing his eyes away from another patron and his ballerina.

“And anything else they want is theirs,” she managed to get out.

San frowned before spotting Wooyoung returning from where-ever he had ran off to, now carrying back three glasses. One was precariously balanced in between his ring-covered knuckles as he hurried back with careful steps.

“Hello, love birds,” he called, raising his brows playfully. His eyes darted at the closeness between the two of them. San shifted politely away from her.

“Love bird?” he repeated to his friend. “Says the peacock fluffing its feathers.”

Wooyoung crowed out a laugh. It caught the attention of a few ballerinas.

“I’ll take that. I’m handsome.” He flipped his head back to push away his hair that has swung in front of his eyes.

San’s smile returned with ease as he swooped in to grasp one of the glasses before anything more spilled to the wood planks below.

“Swanette?” Wooyoung offered one of the glasses her way. In the glass was no amber liquid but water? She raised it to her nose and sniffed suspiciously.

“It’s just water, baby-doll,” the smaller man reassured.

“She’s a smart one,” San commented.

He smiled politely before taking a sip of his drink. His actions were slow around her she noticed. Or maybe Wooyoung was so high-energy that his friend felt slower in comparison. He moved with intention. Careful. Concise. 

“What were you chatting about?”

“Nothing.” They both said at the same time.

“Intriguing,” Wooyoung countered before smiling wide.

He looked so happy. His smile was so comfortable and yet beaming. She didn’t know it but she was matching the look on her own face. San glanced between them, fondness crinkling his eyes. He cleared his throat.

“Miss YN was just explaining the boudoir to me.” He repeated.

“Boudoir… isn’t this the foyer de la danse?” Wooyoung queried.

“Nickname,” she tried to reassure.

“And what did she say?”

“It’s a whore house,” San said cooly, taking a sip.

Her face flushed at that. “No, I did not!” she exclaimed. Wooyoung glanced between them, amused.

“She wouldn’t have,” he snorted in agreement. “She’s a lady.”

“Its essentially what she said,” San sighed out, raising a brow at his friend.

There was a long moment between the two men before the smaller man looked to her. Wooyoung glanced her up and down.

“Is that true?” he whispered. Concern flashed in his eyes.

“Woo, I – “ she glanced aside, anxiety tumbling. Like theatre, the façade of the boudoir worked only when there were the illusions in place. But now Wooyoung’s careful concerned gaze made her feel like something was wrong. Trouble. Like the theatre was aflame. Like something was changing. “I’ve never- Wooyoung has been my first patron.”

“I’m your patron?” he bumbled out, brows pursing.

Had he thought… they were something else? San had called her his friend. The woman he wouldn’t stop talking about.

She nodded nervously.

“I thought so – you hadn’t paid but the necklace, the treats, everything-“

“Swanette-“ he started, talking over her as he took a step forward. But she didn’t have another chance to voice her words. San’s arm curled over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“It’s a good thing we’re her patrons,” San insisted. “Patrons like them-” he glanced around at the men in the foyer de la danse with disdain, taking a protective step forward as well. “-aren’t to be trusted.”

YN was shielded from the boudoir in that moment. Like a bird caged in, but was she truly caught? Or was she in the warm embrace of a nest?

San looked at Wooyoung with a little nod, and, with that, the shorter smiled.

San grinned at her, and it sent a zing up her spine, electric.

“I’ve got you, honey. We’ve got you.”

And YN believed them that night.

-

In the dark of another night, her eyes flickered open. She wasn’t in the expensive automobile, nor cradled in Seonghwa’s arms. The last thing she remembered was the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the smell of everything that made Seonghwa Seonghwa. Bittered ground coffee beans, warm vanilla, and a hint of something deeper, something like burnt florals. Elegant and strict-cut like him. How many nights had she spent consumed by that scent in his sheets?

Now, she felt a strange conflicted fondness for his scent. It comforted her as much as it made her stomach churn. A bittersweet situation.

Even now as she blinked her crusty eyes, YN sought it out. Sought him out. It itched at her anger. He wasn’t safe now. Were any of them?

She went to move, push off the too-warm sheets from her form. The room crackled with a lit fire-place; the smell of smoke was heady in the air. She could barely move. Her body didn’t hurt, but her limbs felt slow and sticky like she was submerged in honey, melting into molasses. With a small whine, she shifted under the luxurious covers of the bed restlessly, rustling them as she tried to push herself up.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” a voice rumbled out.

Her bleary eyes shifted to look around the room. Ah, of course, it wasn’t her room. Her sheets were never so heavied. Her fire-place wasn’t ever lit. He stood in front of the flames, a pick prodding at the logs.

Her face sturdied, frowning at him as she tried to move again.

“Don’t move too quickly, sweetheart,” he sounded soft as he put back the pick and approached the fluffed bed.

“Are you in pain?” the man asked, kneeling beside her.

He smiled fondly at her, a hand going to wipe hair out of her face. She wanted to turn away from the love written over his face. Her numb legs reminded her of what had happened. It hadn’t been a nightmare.

“Don’t touch me,” she mumbled, blearily.

“Are you in pain?” he pressed again.

He petted her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. She felt coddled like a pet. Her brow twitched.

“I can get Yunho; the doctor promised him that he gave you enough medicine that you wouldn’t feel a thing until tomorrow’s check-up. If you are –” the man chuckled lowly. “He’ll have hell to pay.”

She glared. The mention of doctors, of Yunho, of everything made the flickers of her rage burn.

“Yeosang, stop,” she bit out. The haze of sleep was fading and as she took deep breaths of the smokey air she felt her anger grow.

His smile faded for a moment at her abrupt command. He licked his lips as his hands mother-henned about her. Fixing the covers to lay lower, fluffing a pillow. She wanted to wiggle away.

“Yeosang!” she snapped again as he continued to fuss.

“YN.” His voice rumbled out warningly.

There were footsteps outside his door. He glanced towards it before, with a deep sigh, he shook his head.

“I know you’re upset.” Yeosang sympathized softly. His hands slid from the comforters to rearrange her hands to rest on her stomach. His fingers intertwined with hers. “But you don’t need to be hurting on top of that. So, I’m going to ask again – are you in pain?”

She glared at him. Why did he have to look at her with such softness? Such devotion. Did he plot her injury? Did he know? No, for some reason, she felt like Yeosang couldn’t manage such cruelty – even if he was cruel on the court. And there was the glaring obvious fact that he hadn’t been in the mansion for some days.

“YN,” he pushed again.

“No,” she admitted.

Her gaze fell to their interlocked hands. His thumb brushed soothing circles and the occasional ‘x’ across the back of her hand. He smiled, small and kind. Relieved, she realized.

“Good,” he breathed before he leaned forward to press a warm kiss to the back of knuckles.

Her fingers twitched. He didn’t move after the kiss. His chin rested there on her stomach as he stared up at her. Yeosang always held this reverence, similar to Wooyoung. Eyes of devotion she used to think, but unlike Wooyoung’s playful gleam, Yeosang’s had a look to his eyes. Of seriousness. It wasn’t a darkness, no, his eyes were the most honeyed-ambered of the bunch, soft and gleaming like a fire-place’s embers. There was no humor, no teasing, when it came to her. Steadfast, knowing.

He breathed in her skin, lips hot against her skin.

“Why are you here?” she asked after a moment.

He frowned at her, head unmoving.

“You were away on business – you had been gone for days,” she continued. “And now you are just back?”

“I heard what happened to you, sweetheart,” he offered. “I had to come back.”

“How did you hear? It’s only been hours – no letters could reach you that quick.” She retorted.

Yeosang’s smiled against her knuckles. “I had a feeling.”

It felt like he was painting an ‘x’ on a treasure map – all pointing to the fact that she was right. They had done something – they had known something; they had planned this. Her own lovers. The same men who had made her melt into the idea that she was safe with them.  

She scoffed and, with the little energy she had, she pushed his cheek away from her. It didn’t do much. How much pain medication was she on to be so weak, so drowsy?

“Seonghwa had mentioned you were upset, but not this upset,” he pouted as if she had slapped him.

“How would you handle this, Yeosang?” she bit back. “If someone had broken your arms? Your wrists?”

He’d understand; he had to understand. He was dedicated to his sport; the fearsome Kim Yeosang. Awarded countless first-places and countless prizes for his talent on the court. But instead, she saw this sadness flood his gaze. Not tears, no, he never cried.

Yeosang’s hand rose to stroke her cheek with a gentle forefinger. Far too gentle compared to the harsh words, he spoke next.

“I would have never tried to leave, sweetheart. I know better; I wouldn’t have tried it ever.”

[httpjupiterbby]

Swanqueen fanfics recommendations:

note: ngl i’ve been wanting for someone to ask me this. also all the recs are multi chapters… don’t get me started on how many one shots i saved or how many are in this post 😅

Every secret it keeps - Two years into emma and regina's loving marriage, emma discovers that she's somehow, impossibly, pregnant. Unfortunately, no one in this family is naive enough to believe that true love can make babies, and the swan-mills family is thrown headlong into a situation that will strain at the seams of their family– or tear them apart completely.

Dusk til dawn - what happens when the evil queen returns to a post-swan queen storybrooke? How will regina and emma's former relationship affect her pursuit of a happy ending with the savior? (warning: elements of mommy kink, ageplay/regression, and a bit of everything in between; even if you’re not into that, i would still give this one a read! it’s so good and super cute! .)

Storybrooke scandal - Regina Mills and Emma Swan have a long lasting sexual relationship with each other, but they got married along the way, however not to each other. Behind closed doors their relationship still continues, but what will happen when their respective husbands find out about their secret relationship and what will such a scandal do in the small town of storybrooke?

Making exceptions - No magic. Multi-chap. College AU: Emma Swan is a culinary arts student. Regina Mills is her English teacher.

Whispers in the night - AU: Emma's plagued by grief over the loss of her best friend. She joins a support group and meets Regina Mills. They share their heartbreaking stories and come out as friends. Can they find a way to become more than that?

Nine months to love - Regina overhears that Emma is pregnant. As the months pass, she is frequently at Emma’s place, and Emma at hers. Emma and Regina grow emotionally closer as the pregnancy goes through ups and downs. 10 chapters.

Project wingman - Regina has a secret admirer. Unknown to her, this mystery person has been standing right before her eyes all along.

We'll always have hope - “Are you saying I seduced you? “Regina frowned. “If I remember correctly, it was you that pinned me against the bed. It was you who kissed me. It was also you that pulled my panties down using your-“ Emma had messed up. She had messed up badly. There was no way she could choose between her best friend that she had been in love with for years and her husband who she just kind of tolerated. After their impromptu trip for their son's graduation, A few positive pregnancy tests changes Emma’s life forever and makes the decision for her.

Could you escort the maid? - Emma Swan is a 28 yr old aspiring writer who happens to be a professional escort. On a night out with a client Emma obtains a chance to save for her dreams when she is hired by a respected rich couple Robin and his wife Regina as their new maid.What happens when Emma soon realizes their marriage isn't as it seems and what will Robin do when he sees that she is falling for his wife

Darkness Falls - The story of how Emma and Regina discover they share true love is a rocky one. Snow White interferes stripping Emma and Henry of their will and Regina is on the run from a town that has turned on her. With few allies, how will the Queen restore her family and what will be the fall out of Snow's magical manipulations?

Bridges of storybrooke county - Based on the plot of the movie/novel 'The Bridges of Madison County'. Regina is a married and unsatisfied housewife living on an Iowa farm, Emma is a globetrotting photojournalist. Their fateful meeting begins a love affair neither of them is ready for. (And if you want to know whether Francesca gets out of the damn truck this time? You'll have to read the whole story.)

The choices we make - Would you give up the love of your life in name of a dream? Emma Swan and Ruby Lucas have a hard decision ahead and this will change their lives completely, and everyone around them.

What we could of had - Emma breaks up with her high school sweetheart, Regina out of the blue.Ten years later, Regina gets a visit by two adorable kids claiming to be hers.

Someone will remember us - On day one of her junior year at Boston College, Emma makes a fool out of herself in front of the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. She tries not to dwell on it, though – after all, it’s not like the woman is going to end up teaching one of her classes.

A date with destiny - Regina Mills is a 35 year old, rich business woman who is also a virgin. Emma Swan is a 28 year old friend and roommate of fellow business man Robin Locksley and works for Killian Jones. Regina's assistant is tired off suffering from the backlash of her boss's stress and decides to set her up on a blind date with Robin but he can't show and so sends Emma instead.

Circumstance - Emma is an owner of a renowned Fitness Club called Swan Fitness and is also a grad student seeking a Master's in Counseling. Regina is one of Emma's professors and soon to be a member of her club. Will they allow their circumstance to prevent their feelings from evolving? Or will they fight to have their chance at their happy-ending? (TW!!!!)

Indecent Proposal - Emma Swan, a single mother, struggling to pay for her son's medical visits along as his medication, gets more than she bargains for when she meets Regina Mills. New York's bachelorette billionaire who offers her the solution to all her money problems: 2 million dollars and a signed contract stating her companionship for an entire year. One year, where anything could come into play.

Miss Swan goes to storybrooke - Regina Mills is running an underdog mayoral campaign when her hapless partner in crime, Neal Cassidy Gold, hires his new girlfriend to be a part of it. It's hate at first sight. Emma Swan is infuriatingly attractive, infuriatingly competent, and– most infuriatingly– will absolutely bring down their entire campaign if Regina doesn't get rid of her first.

Hi, i'm calling to answer your craigslist ad - Emma, Just like every 18-year-old foster kid, just aged out of the system. With nowhere to go, Emma searches Craigslist's Ads in hopes that she may find a job. While Browsing the "live-in housekeeper" section Emma comes across a post titled: "Seeking Live-in Pet/housekeeper". Starts off as OutlawQueen, ends with SwanQueen.

Chronicles of eris - After bringing back Marian from the past, Emma is left to deal with the consequences and repercussions of that decision. Two months of silent treatment from Regina is enough to push Emma completely over the edge. Together she and Ruby jump into a portal to the Enchanted Forest in order to figure out where they belong in the world.

To woo the queen - Emma Swan finally confesses her love for Regina Mills but as soon as she does, Regina pulls away. If it was just a casual fling Emma wanted, Regina thought she could have done with just that, but an admission of love and feelings scares Regina. Will Emma be able to woo her lady love and change her mind?

Bridges - Emma Swan has always run from everything and everyone; make no connections and no one can hurt you. But one night, something stops her from running. She meets Regina standing at the edge of a bridge, and everything changes. Major TW for suicide, depression, rape/non-con, abortion, child abuse, baby conceived by rape

The Girlfriend Experience - Emma Swan is a successful soccer star who was born with a dick. Regina Mills is the escort she hires to give her the 'Girlfriend Experience' but it turns into more. Little does Emma know, Regina is actually a victim of Mr Gold's sex slavery trade. What will they have to risk to be together? Smutty G!P! (last time i read this, it was still getting updated..)

What have you done - Regina is not speaking to Emma over Marian's sudden appearance. Emma decides she's had enough. Set at the end of Season 3, before things got "frozen." The beginnings of Swan Queen. So what started out as a simple one-shot, expanded and will continue for four chapters.

Lawyer vs. love - Regina Mills is a hard-ass lawyer from New York. Her life is nothing more than work until one day she meets Emma Swan, a barista with a troubled past. But, when a jealous ex comes to town, everything seems compromised and when Emma is sent away she asks Regina to do something that seems impossible.

A moment of truth - After Emma and Regina finally confess their feelings for each other, the dam breaks. This is the story of discovering their love for each and realizing that it had been there all along. This story is low on the angst but high on the feels and does contain plenty of magical sex.

Safe in the arms of love - Storybrooke AU. After an attack, Regina is forced to confront a past she spent her life burying. Can Emma help her find her way back before the darkness threatens to consume her? SQ ending. Trigger Warnings: Rape, assault, child abuse, violence, sexual content, stalkin

Group therapy - Emma Swan meets Regina Mills in group therapy. Contains potentially triggering content such as self-harm, drug use, and discussion of eating disorders. SwanQueen.

One touch - Emma is in therapy, and Regina Mills is her therapist. Eventually SwanQueen. Warning: this story contains mature themes that may be triggering to some individuals. Please read with caution !!!!!!!

In sickness and in health - As if being in an accident wasn't enough, now she's being told she's forgotten the last 3 years of her life? And in those 3 years, she got married...to her? Just great.

Bait and switch - Henry Mills is sick and tired of his mother’s skating around the truth and not realizing that they are perfect for each other and that they belong together. So he has a plan to bring them together and convinces his grandmother to help.

Broken together - After experiencing a great loss, Emma leans on Regina for support. Can she get through this with the help of Regina and Henry? (TW!!!!) (will squeeze the fuck out of your heart)

One more try - Emma and Regina are having relationship issues. (this will eat your heart out!)

Reservation for ms. mills - Senior Henry Mills tries to set up his daughter Regina and Emma because he thinks they'll be perfect for each other. One way or another. (major romcom vibes !!)

Out - Regina breaks up with Robin after returning from the NY road trip. She begins to question her sexuality and decides to test the waters with a familiar face in town. Emma’s jealously rages and Killian is confused. Some Red Queen. Mostly Swan Queen.

Lost time - Emma gets accidentally sucked into a portal to a realm where time works a little differently and when she comes back she's got a little surprise with her. (crazy shit. read it.)

Love undefined - It’s been eight years since the last time Regina and Emma saw each other, eight years since Emma lost part of her happiness, her family, and everything fell apart. But she hasn’t forgotten those three years in New York, or any of what Regina had brought into her life. And if she can be honest with herself, she might even admit that she wants it back.

What’s wrong with emma swan? - Since Emma's return from the Underworld she is a shadow of her former self. Snow seeks Regina's help to get to the bottom of what's wrong with Emma. When Regina discovers the truth their lives are destined to change forever. An unexplained pregnancy and their evolving relationship leads to a future that neither of them saw coming.

A million tiny little things - emma swan doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d leave in charge of your kids, but somehow she’s landed the job of nannying the mayor’s son. no matter her rebellious streak, she’s more than a little concerned that she’s breaking the cardinal rule of nannydom: do not, do not, start sleeping with your employer. swan queen romcom au.

The staircase - Regina could still smell her cologne and feel the cheap pleather pressing into her back. The brunette sucked in a breath. She was still lying on the floor at the staircase's base and she stared back up at it. Everything was different now. Changed. She felt broken by what had just happened, appalled and enraged, dirty. (TW!!!! very very fucking dark. probably the first dark fic i’ve ever read)

Villains don’t get happy endings - It had been her sacrifice—the price she had to pay. Save everyone she had cursed for 28 years while simultaneously losing the one person she loved the most. Villains, after all, didn't get a Happy Ending. That was reserved for Princesses and Saviors. A 'what if' story where it's Regina, not Hook, who visits Emma in NYC at the beginning of 3B.

Miles to go - Everyone has their own story, this one is theirs and it paints the picture of a love story that spans over two decades, with all the ups and downs and everything else in between. (so fucking amazing!!)

Little match girl - Emergency circumstances lead Emma to move in with Regina and Henry, and the unexpected attraction between the two women stresses their current relationships. At the same time, someone is targeting Storybrooke's children with deadly consequences. (TW!)

The story - Takes place after 3x22. After everything they've been through... After everything that was said between them Robin leaves Regina for Marian and Emma is there to pick up the pieces. Swan Queen Angst and Romance

Oops - Emma and Regina get together at the mansion after they break up with Hook and Robin. Obviously, they get drunk and well...things happen. After one night of pure passion what will happen between the mayor and the sheriff when that night changes their lives, and their relationship, forever.

Skinny love - What are you going on about?" Regina swallowed harshly, really looking at the only person she has been able to bare her soul to. "You don't want me anymore because you found somebody else. Somebody better." Emma looked blankly at Regina. (a-fucking-mazing)

Memento Mori - Regina rejects Emma to stay with Robin after they've slept together. Emma winds up pregnant and tries to win the Mayor back. When the pregnancy is revealed, Snowing forces Emma to Underworld to save who they believe is the baby's father. The Underworld could prove fatal for Emma and her baby. Will they survive or will Regina lose her chance at having true love forever? (the fucking best- i’ve been looking for this..)

Crazy changes - A chance encounter in a bar changes Emma Swan's life forever. One of those changes is the arrival of Regina Mills in her small town. But there's more to the newcomer than meets the eye and when Emma finds out the truth behind a family feud, she must re-evaluate everything she thought she knew.

For endings are where we begin - Regina Mills is your average working mom - she spends long hours at her bakery, loves her son Henry with all that she is, and can touch dead things and bring them back to life. Emma Swan is an orphan, an ex-convict, and a bailbondsperson residing in Massachusetts. She is also currently dead. This is the story of how they meet. [a Pushing Daisies AU]

Forget me not - Tired of feeling heartbroken after Robin's death, Regina takes a Forgetting Potion to eradicate all memories of her True Love. However, things don't go to plan as she can still remember Robin, but has no idea who the blonde sheriff, who goes by the name of 'Emma Swan', is.

Direct and linear relationships - Emma Swan is a barely 17 year old senior. She just has to worry about getting through the year, but a new Physics teacher might make her last year in high school much more interesting.

A single kiss - Emma is only a teenager when she falls madly and irrevocably in love with Regina Mills. She is convinced that Regina is "The One" for her, but it's a love that cannot be. At least not at the time. When Emma returns home years later will they finally find love and a happy ending?

Flu love’s kiss - Magic returns to Storybrooke bringing back magical illnesses as well. 'Love Flu' is going around and it's catching. Swan Queen.

Temporary Distractions - It's been a month and Regina won't speak to her, until she does and Emma is left pretending to be in a relationship with her so that Regina can get through a dinner invitation with her pride intact.

Not going anywhere - Emma’s life was finally starting to come together. She has her parents. Her bond with her son growing. Regina’s walls have slowly started to fall, their friendship blossoming. This doesn't settle well with a select few townspeople that believe there is no hope for The Evil Queen, so they kidnap Emma. They will make her see things their way at any cost. Emma is found beaten and left for dead with no memory of who she is. The ones that took her still at large, Emma is left in the care of the only one who can truly protect her and the only person she allows near her. (tw!)

Reckless abandon - After Regina and Emma spend a night together, Emma is left to deal with the fall out, and a life-altering event, all alone as Regina changes her mind and decides Emma is not what she wants, after all. Will Regina realize what she's done before it's too late? Angst and Swan Queen. (the fucking best!!!!!!)

Casual sex - Emma and Regina begin to have nothing but casual sex diving head on into a friends with benefits, well more so enemies with benefits what will happen when one or both begin to start actually feeling something for each other.

Lattes & lace - Regina's a successful, focused businesswoman running a burgeoning lingerie line that is just starting to gain international attention. Until one winter, an irritating woman opens up a coffee shop next to her studio... and generates constant distractions. But not all of the distractions are a complete disaster. Only few.

Take a chance on me - As Emma recovers at the mansion from an encounter with Storybooke's latest threat, nightmares start to plague her from the trauma she suffered as a child. As Regina comforts her, the women grow ever closer. When Regina is attacked, Emma vows to do everything she can to protect the now terrified and vulnerable mayor.

Teacher’s pet - Emma Swan is starting her senior year this year and she's got a pretty easy schedule. But as her friends tell her about the Creative Writing teacher and how no one has passed her class with an A, what will she do? And who exactly is this 'bitch' as they claim her to be? Swan Queen-Student/Teacher AU

The reason why - Emma Swan never stopped wondering why she left without a word, not even a goodbye. She was used to being left behind and abandoned but when Miss Mills her favorite teacher/mentor of three years disappeared without explanation it still stung. Now over ten years later and a chance run in she might finally find out the reason why.

The crush teacher - Emma Swan's life was easy. She was constantly hanging out with her friends and was dating the most beautiful boys at school. But everything changes when a new teacher starts teaching her at school. Feelings and sensations that Emma had never felt before begin to appear.

A fortunate mistake - After Emma and Regina share a night of passion and a morning of misunderstandings sprinkled with some amnesia, Emma ends up getting married to Hook. But when Emma realizes she’s pregnant, their worlds get turned upside down. With Regina’s unwavering support and Emma slowly piecing her memories together, will their love prevail?

I’ll be home for christmas (with my fake girlfriend) - When her girlfriend dumps her the week before Christmas, Regina Mills needs a date to placate her mother’s insistent badgering. Emma Swan, who’s never really spent Christmas with an actual family, steps up to the plate. Throw in a very pregnant woman, her two children, and a Christmas Eve party? Emma and Regina experience a Christmas weekend they won’t soon forget.

You again - Emma and Regina have known each other since they were kids, and it's amazing how they just can't stand each other.

Has anybody ever told you - After a night on the tequila Emma Swan drunkenly causes mayhem in Granny’s leading to a few home truths for our Madame Mayor.

The rain came pouring down - Emma and Regina have spent the past year working on Operation Mongoose. Emma has fallen in love with Regina and is sure Regina loves her back... until a surprise shows up from the recent past.

A date to remember - AU. Regina is a very successful architect who runs her own company in NYC. She has no time nor need for love. Although, to spice things a little, she allows herself to indulge in a date per person, in order to get some action – no strings attached. Would she change her own rules after meeting a beautiful blonde? Swan Queen (No!Magic)

A month and a half of wednesdays - 40 weeks is ten months not nine... They have it all wrong.Emma spends every Wednesday night at the mills Manor, and has made a little discovery after one wild Wonderful Day with The Mayor.

Waking up - Emma wakes up in the hospital with no memory of her life in Storybrooke with her family. When she sees Regina, though, she suddenly feels a connection between the two of them and feels like she knows her. But how?

Always & forever - Regina Mills is a 34 year old widow who lost her husband Daniel just 4 years after they married. Not only has she lost Daniel but she's lost her 4 year old son as well; Henry. Before their sudden deaths she saw herself as the happiest and luckiest woman in the world. Now that the two people that she's loved most are gone she's afraid that whoever she ends up meeting next will vanish from her life forever. Now to avoid that pain again she's completely shut everything and everyone around her out. Family included.

Pixie dust never lies - A revealed secret, a broken heart, and a stormy night lead Regina and Emma on a path of self-discovery. In the end, they will have to make a choice that will shape their lives forever.

A new perspective - Regina disowns her mother and moves to London. Cora takes Emma under her wing and cultivates a business and a personal relationship. Regina and Emma meet after Cora's death and the fireworks start!! Slow burn SwanQueen and SwanQueen Family. Don't worry, dears, our ladies are alive and kicking through the entire story!!

There goes the neighborhood - SQ AU: Emma Swan has recently relocated to a neighborhood just outside of Quantico, VA after the death of her husband (Neal). She and her twin adopted daughters are just trying to find happiness again. Meanwhile, her new neighbors Robin & Regina Mills have a less than happy household. The women clash from the start, but through a marital betrayal the two women begin to see each other in a whole new light.

Stolen darkness - What started with a dream had revealed to Emma who she really was, upon the confessions of the Charmings' past sins, Emma embarks on a journey of self discovery. Dark Swan, Maleficent, and Swanqueen.

Mirror, mirror. - Emma is working her side-job as a mover when she finds the mirror, shattered in the back of a wardrobe. She takes it home, drawn to it for some reason. Regina finds the mirror in the back of her mother's old wardrobe. It was once broken and put away in a time of duress. Yet the mirror she is holding looks as good as new. When Regina speaks into the mirror one night, Emma answers.

Shadow Haven - Emma Swan is a PR agent who is sent on a holiday by her boss. Regina Mills is the owner of a private island named Shadow Haven. There is more to Regina than initially meets the eye. Swan Queen romance / BDSM story.

Feather of a swan - Emma Swan also ended up cursed in Hyperion Heights. With absolutely no memories of Storybrooke, she gets by working as a bounty hounter. After a particular long day, she just longs for a drink, and goes into Roni's Bar to get just that. But after she meets the bartender, nothing wil be the same again.

In it together - After both Hook and Robin are killed (and Hook doesn't come back in my story!), Emma and Regina grow closer. At first it's about getting each other through the grieving process, but eventually it turns into a much deeper connection.

—-

authors:

@ hunnyfresh | ao3

@ devje | ao3

@LZClotho (LZielinsky) | ao3

@LunaCeMore | ao3

@ClashofShips | ao3

@Z_OTAKU19 | ao3

@ starsthatburn | ao3

@ emmasyellowbug | ao3

@JuiceCup | ao3

@AshKnight | ao3

@Ash M. Knight | fanfic.net

@IShipLOVE | fanfic.net

@ angstbot | ao3

@rhysMerilot | ao3

@XSerendipity92X | fanfic.net

@AnotherEvilRegal | fanfic.net

@Nasty Nikolo | fanfic.net

@Gravity In the Air | fanfic.net

@PlayfulMay | ao3

@LittleSwanLover | ao3

@AOBZ | ao3

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

spent a good hour reading up on your Not What He Seems AU, it’s such a perfect mix of angst and whimsy! Ford waking up to find 30 years have passed in the blink of an eye is is the kind of body horror terrifying i eat up, as an avid enjoyer of time travel and its inherent tragedy.

i got a few questions, if you’ll indulge me:

- what kinds of tattoos you think Bill has gotten over the years? i think i saw some arm bands in one of your pieces, but i’d love to hear if you have any specific ideas for placements or images. if he’s doing it for the safe pain experience, i’d think there are some pretty big/detailed pieces involved? and do you think the pain helps ground him somewhat, to find and fit better in the boundaries of the body?

- in the show, Stan feels a lot of guilt for stealing his brother’s identity and he kinda thinks of himself as a fraud, an actor. do you think Bill ever feels guilty for the same? or would he just miss Ford a lot, without the Stan-specific aspect of pretending to be “the better one”?

also any fun tidbits you’ve been rotating in your head lately! it’s impressive how specifically it seems like you’ve thought out how Bill’s presence would affect the canon show events, while trying to keep them as unchanged as possible. also StanFraud is the funniest, most perfect thing I’ve ever heard!

Thank you!! I’ve always enjoyed writing horror based on human response, so Ford’s perspective is probably one of the most fascinating to me in this AU, although, all of it is fascinating and enjoyable to explore, really!

— I haven’t worked them all out yet, but I know for a fact he has a tattoo of the Cipher Wheel on his back, the arm bands as you mentioned, a hyper-realistic tattoo of his ribs where his ribs would be (if that makes sense), and eyes on the back of his hands. Honestly, I’d be open to suggestions for him! I imagine him having some more grotesque, detailed tattoos that reflect the nightmare realm as well. And yes, the pain definitely helps ground him. It also gives him a sense of control as well, in a situation where he has none.

— If he does feel guilty, it’s a complicated kind of guilt. I don’t even think he’d fully process that he’s feeling guilty. It’s this sort of gnawing feeling he can’t get rid of, and it starts the longer he gets to know Dipper and Mabel — he never really felt it before that. He absolutely misses Ford though. He can’t define that feeling either. I’ve said before that he looks at Dipper strangely, and that’s because Dipper reminds him of Ford in certain moments, eager for discovery!

He and Stan never really talk about it, but the have both acknowledged missing Ford before.

Bill’s response was vague though, not an ‘I miss him too’, but an ‘I think I do too.’ He isn’t sure what to make of that.

Bill Cipher doesn’t feel remorse, or miss people, he does everything with intention and he’s never made mistakes. Or, that’s what he’s meant to be. Maybe he has gone soft.

And Tidbits! I have a few! Not as many as usual, only because Arcane’s been taking up a bit of my brain space lately, but I hope these shall suffice anyhow:

(And quickly, thank you again, I think way too hard on all the small details and how Bill’s presence would have a knock on effect. It makes me happy to see it get noticed!)

— In the early days of Bill being trapped, Stan obviously doesn’t open the Mystery Shack, and ends up having to take a few odd jobs around town instead. He’s earned a bit of a reputation for being a decent handyman because of that, and even now, old timers of the town will still come to Stan if they need something fixing, especially cars. He complains about getting too old for it, but he never says no. Money is money! It’s also interesting to think about how the little things would impact his relationship with the townsfolk and how they view him. He’s always been Stanley to them. He’s never had to pretend otherwise.

— I’ve toyed around with making the Blind Eye a bigger threat than they are in canon, being as the kids would have no reason to look into Old Man McGucket. I’ve also toyed around with McGucket ending up slightly different to canon, his mind still broken, but his motivation different, with him being aware early on that the man he sees isn’t Ford, and is in fact the beast he fears and tried to erase from his mind. A more antagonistic Fiddleford who’s been trying to get rid of Bill for years now would actually be really fun? If I can make it work, and make the Blind Eye work in this way, I’ll lean into it! For now though, it’s just an idea I’m throwing around.

— Vague ‘episode’ idea that exists within my brain is Bill accidentally starting a mini cult again after telling some sort of lie that catches on, and it ends up being a Mabel-Bill bonding plot-line as she tries to convince him to just be honest before this whole cult thing gets taken too far. I also love the idea of Bill making a comment about this being like 1952 all over again. He makes comments like that all the time. Surely he’s just joking!

— Another vague ‘episode’ idea I have is Bill taking Dipper and Mabel to the supernatural underground market of Gravity Falls under Stan’s nose, trying to prove he’s the cooler Uncle, and that he can handle the two kids by himself. This goes about as well as you’d expect. Stan isn’t too happy to find out Bill got Dipper and Mabel in trouble, as he tried to get them to do more and more risky things.

— Bill will sometimes start speaking in Euclydian without realising, especially when it comes to cursing, and no one knows how he’s making those sounds with his mouth. Stan’s actually started picking up some of the meanings in context and can roughly gauge what Bill might be saying.

[foolishlovers]

soo apparently, i've written over 400k words of crowley and aziraphale flirting and falling in love with each other this year

holy shit???

it's been a wild ride but i'm proud of the fics i've written:

only lovers in the building - 1.8k, T

at the q&a session for crowley and aziraphale's murder mystery podcast, their listeners seem far more interested in the unsolved mystery of their relationship than their latest case. it’s time to tackle one final puzzle.

out of the blue - 3.6k, E

while crowley braces for yet another goodbye, aziraphale is determined to stay and bestow his love upon the demon tonight.

wasting my time (chasing the high) - 3.7k, T

an exes to lovers fic in which crowley - while touring and playing music all over europe - needs to find the courage to talk to aziraphale again. 

where a canvas blooms - 3.8k, T

this is the first part of a series (that i'll hopefully continue in the new year) in which gardener!crowley and bookseller!aziraphale have a cuddling arrangement. and it certainly is just a platonic arrangement. right?

a lasting impression - 4k, T

crowley's dull shift at the pasta bar takes an unexpected twist when the charming bookseller from the shop around the corner drops by.

good game, good girl - 5.1k, E

footballer!crowley and coach!aziraphale aren't just discussing tactics in crowley's hostel room... ineffable wives body worship, basically.

third time's the charm - 6.7k, T

after the almost apocalypse, it seems crowley and aziraphale need a bit of a push to finally confess their feelings. mutual pining, a dowling era flashback and some (magical) hijinks and shenanigans.

the anon before christmas epilogue - 8.5k, E

florist!crowley and bookseller!aziraphale go on their first date after their mutual hatred has turned into mutual affection over the holidays.

spread you wings - 10.1k, E

an ineffable wives enemies to lovers model au in which a photoshoot mishap traps crowley and aziraphale in a studio overnight.

every part of me - 10.4k, T

a hannah montana au featuring genderfluid rockstar!crowley and his best friend aziraphale who has been kept in the dark about crowley's secret for a long time... until one fateful night.

lips don't lie - 12.7k, E

an ineffable wives enemies to lovers actresses au in which they're both invited to an exclusive lipstick launch. tensions boil over.

not where the storyline ends - 14.4k, T

crowley (cranky and overworked) interviews aziraphale (joyous and totally unqualified) for a position in the publishing house he's working at. crowley's sure their paths will never cross again, but christmas still has a few surprises left in store for him.

just up the stairs - 19.4k (of 39.1k), E

a valentine's day fic featuring grumpy!crowley and caring!aziraphale, harry (the most adorable rabbit), and a quiet, gentle and romantic dinner. 

something good and right and real - 30.8k, T

singer-songwriter!crowley and baker!aziraphale meet again when crowley returns to his detested hometown for a much needed break. featuring an abundance of autumnal activities, witty children and a second chance for love.

moonstruck - 31.1k (23.4k yet to be published), M

grumpy botany professor and single parent!crowley falls in love with cherubic bartender!aziraphale as he keeps visiting his favourite midnight café. meet-ugly turning into friends to lovers.

tales of turning pages - 73.4k, E

a small town au in which novelist!crowley and librarian!aziraphale fall in love as crowley keeps coming back to aziraphale's library. lots of (un)resolved sexual tension, found family and romance book recs.

wild hearts - 145.5k, E

a friends to lovers boarding school au in which biology teacher!crowley and english teacher!aziraphale team up to lead the school's new theatre club. featuring lots of pining, student shenanigans and a dearly beloved cat.

unpublished works - 20k

mix of oneshots and chaptered fics i'm still working on

i think it's also time to get a little sappy and review the writing experiences i've made this year...

(some of the) things i loved writing about this year: happy endings, anathema being a beautiful menace, gender fuckery and tons of trans characters, long-haired!crowley and bearded!aziraphale, librarians, authors and musicians, pepper, adam and warlock being mischievous little troublemakers, purple clothes, flowers and notes, sexually charged dancing scenes, aziraphale’s gorgeous thighs and tummy, crowley’s praise kink, taylor swift references, “ngk”, crowley and aziraphale being good with kids and bad at feelings, cosy cuddles and smart cats, all the sappy romance stuff and so so much found family. thank you to all the lovely and wonderful people who read my fics, who shared them on tumblr or with their friends, who gave kudos and wrote the kindest comments, making my days so much brighter and encouraging me to write more. and more. and more! every ao3 email and every tumblr notification is a blessing to me, it means the world to know that my stories are being read and enjoyed! and thank you to my writer friends who’ve continuously supported me throughout this entire year, who listened to countless voice notes of me messily attempting to plot fics, who made time to read first drafts and outlines during the busiest of weeks, who held my hand through writing emotional scenes breaking my own heart in the middle of the night, who supplied me with plenty of inspiration and laughter, who helped me fix many spelling/ grammar mistakes and the weirdest plot holes, who are always eager to hear about my next silly idea. again and again and again.

very excited to see where 2025 will take my writing 💜

[year2000electronics]

Are bud and honey good parents In your reverse au?

YES THEY ARE (i assume you mean mrs gleeful (i guess mrs pines in reverse falls lol) cos my headcanon name for me is Hope :] close enough) they’re definitely a bit of a dysfunctional family in canon gravity falls and a lot of people speculate on stuff but i don’t really think they’re monsters or anything. they’re just a group of people in a small town whos kid found an amulet that made him even worse and things just went out of control from there. for the record i don’t buy into any of the batshit stuff people tend to theorize about mrs gleeful i think she’s just stressed out and has given up on trying to salvage any sense of normalcy 😭😭 especially cos her husbands kinda gideon’s main mentor with the showbiz stuff

OH MY GOD OKAY IM RAMBLING this is supposed to be about reverse bud and hope i need to calm myself.

but yeah since gideon isn’t the one in the tent of telepathy this time he’s not a showbiz kid so their relationship is pretty sweet :] though bud does love to use gideon in his business endeavours (he switches them constantly, bud’s auto + shack of mystery is only his most current venture) where like. y’know how sometimes marketing people will tell you to hold a cute animal to seem approachable? yeah bud will hold up gideon like “look how cute my son is :) do you want to buy a used car”

gideon loves his parents but because of there not really being any kids his age in town he hangs around them maybe TOO much. he loves watching rodeos on tv with them and goes to estate sales with bud to buy clowns. they have to drive to the next town over to go to church every sunday. all that. at the end of the day he’s their lil cowboy :) they just wish he had some more friends his age (which is why they very happily accept paz into their home for the summer)

[aziraphales-library]

Hello there

First of all, a huge thank you for all the effort you put in for us to find stories we love.

I was just wondering if you have any stories along these lines

An "Accidentally Married AU" but not one where they get drunk and get married. More like one of them comes from a different culture/is some sort of creature and the other completes a mating ritual without realising. The closest I've found for this is here:

Don't Wake a Sleeping Bear(Dragon) - ZehWulf - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

But I was wondering if you knew of any others?

Your help is very much appreciated here!

Have a lovely day.

Hi! Here are some fics where they are accidentally married/bonded for reasons other than being drunk. Mind the tags on a couple of these!...

Intertwined by greygerbil (G)

After switching bodies, Aziraphale and Crowley have a matching small but persistent problem.

Vows by Bookwormgal (T)

Crowley certainly didn't do it on purpose. It wasn't something that he exactly planned. But a moment of desperation and stubbornness gave birth to the creation of something new. A bond forged of power, hope, devotion, love, and promises that he would never break. It isn't often that a demon metaphysically half-marries an angel.

Help, I Accidentally Married a Fae by fruchox (T)

Crowley hadn't meant to fall through a Faerie and into an accidental marriage with the Fae Ruler, Aziraphale. It's just that, as time passes, and as they overcome the problems that stand in front of getting Crowley home, he's not sure he wants to go back to his world after all.

The mortifying ordeal of being un-known by Gay_internet_mafia (T)

Tasked with securing a surrogate for the second coming he does not want to come, Aziraphale seeks out his demon. Only for Crowley to have no memory of him at all. Can they solve the mystery and see Crowley's memories returned? And what will he think of Aziraphale once they do?

I’m Your Landsailor by IneffableDoll (T)

In a small seaside town called Tadfield, one of the last places on Earth where humans and magic coexist, an exiled selkie and a human who ran away from her life accidentally get themselves married in the oldest, most binding sense. The two are forced to stay together until they can find a way to undo it and free the other from their accidental marriage. It sure would be complicated if they started to fall for each other in the process…

Offerings by fenrislorsrai (M)

“Come home with me then. Stay and talk.” “Are you… inviting me in?” They are nowhere near a building to go into. They are just reaching the first crossroad on a very long walk home. He is clearly asking something Anthony doesn’t quite grasp the meaning of, but can tell it is something huge and life changing. “I don’t know what that means. What does it matter if you’re everywhere and nowhere if I ask you to be somewhere?” Ế̵͇̠V̷̯̇Ĕ̷̞̬͠R̸̖̭͋Y̵̬̟̅T̶̜̺͠H̴̖͉̾I̸̦̠̽̽N̶̯̈́G̴̫͎͋ As a young man, Anthony saw Death and invited it in. Gave it a home. Gave it a life. Bought that time with the blood of others. Now he’s growing older. His last victim nearly took him. Death comes for everyone. Anthony accepts this. Knows he’ll die too. Have to leave Death alone. And Death can’t accept that. detailed notes about potentially triggering content at the start of each chapter. Rated M for graphic violence On healing from trauma and the importance of stories & rituals for dealing with that which would otherwise destroy us. On finding the words to describe what happened without those very words causing you greater pain. Also pining while married

And the one you mentioned...

Don't Wake a Sleeping Bear(Dragon) by ZehWulf (T)

Crowley's a mage on the run from goons from Lucifer's court, but a twisted ankle means he has to find a hiding spot for the night and fast. Luckily, there's a nearby, hopefully empty cave he can hide in! :D

- Mod D

[thelarriefics]

SUMMER FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find fics that take place in the summer, or have summer scenes. (Part I)

📖 On The Horizon by FitzAndLarry (261k)

Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

📖 love is a word, you gave it a name by @larrydoinglaundry (158k)

After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.

📖 blue moon by @aquietlarrie (152k)

or the self indulgent 50’s au where i wanted a safe space to explore the culture, history, and sexuality of being gay in a time when it was extremely difficult to do so. includes, lots of questionable dancing, healing your inner child, and one heck of an emotional ride.

📖 a cycle of recycled revenge by @broken-beaks (103k)

Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

📖 gloominess of summer days by @adoremelikeasunflower19 (90k)

Following a devastating and unexpected split, Harry finds himself rewarded by the mysterious ways of Faith in the form of an inheritance of his Uncle’s house in a distant country Wolveheuls. Dismissing his initial scepticism, he chooses to seize the opportunity. He starts a journey of self-discovery, relearning the meaning of loving and being loved, moving on from the painful past, and making his place within the eccentric small-town community. Between his efforts, his path crosses with Louis Tomlinson, a town native, known for his ridiculous number of jobs, incomparable wit, and profound adoration for the cottage lifestyle.

📖 Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes by @starryhaze28 (82k)

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

📖 your memory over me by @shimmeringevil (64k)

The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

📖 hope your life leads you back to my door by wildestdreams (56k)

Harry Styles set out to be a doctor; a steady career and a good living is all a young person could ask for. What he hadn't set out to do was to spend his summer holiday on a trekking trip in Spain with a group of people he barely knew. And he certainly didn’t plan on having his heart stolen by Louis Tomlinson, class clown, and secret crush, in such a way that he feared he might never find it again. ft. cheesy chat-up lines, a big desi wedding, falling in love, and growing up.

📖 A Golden Goal by a_momentwitme (55k)

"Even they, as free as you think they are, don't always get to love like this, in the true meaning of the word, of the feeling. Not some diluted version that some settle with for their entire lifetime. I mean love in its purest form, which still grows every day despite the problems, barriers and annoying habits you discover in your partner. A love that refills your heart after you pour it out or makes you go on during your worst days, knowing that your best is expecting you at home."

📖 where the tide takes you, i will follow by @pinkcords (53k)

Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

📖 sent by the sun by @givesuethemoon (51k)

In 1970s Los Angeles, Harry is a groupie who aches to feel alive. Louis is the lead singer of a rock band who aches to know him.

📖 Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface (44k)

Louis is bored, rich and lonely. He has no reason to expect that this summer in the Hamptons with his friends will be different from any other – until he meets Harry. Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

📖 Awake Dear Heart, Awake by She_bear (35k)

Cute, fun, sexy and at times emotional AU where Harry and Louis meet as strangers on holiday in Greece and find themselves stuck on a remote beach together. An initial misunderstanding gets them off to a bad start. Both at a turbulent point in their lives, they are forced to confront their internal struggles and of course each other.

📖 He Still Takes My Breath Away by @parmahamlarrie (32k)

 the one where Harry is a lifeguard and Louis is the head of recreation. And, sometimes, you just need a little push to realize what was right in front of you the whole time.

📖 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 (30k)

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore. Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

📖 Dancing With Masks by @softfonds (18k)

With awards season coming up and new films on the way for both of them, Harry and Louis' managers decide it's time for them to date for publicity. They don't mind, given that they are best friends and have known each other for ages. Besides, after years of sexual tension built into a fake relationship for press, what could possibly go wrong?

📖 Come on in, the water's fine by @greenblueish (9k)

or, the one where Louis is set on enjoying his last summer jobbing abroad as tourist entertainer and it only gets better when a mysterious hotel guest with overly expensive sunglasses keeps coming back for his drink recommendations.

📖 Black Leather, Blue Lace by @insightfulinsomniac (8k)

aka: a pwp in which new soulmates farmer!Louis and city girl!Harry are filthy exhibitionists.

📖 Near You Now by @beyondxmeasure (8k)

When a leaky bathroom sink turns into a minor flood, Harry has to act fast. So, he thinks of the closest (and most unlikely) way to find home repair help… Grindr. The last thing he expects from this quick fix is to find anything long-term.

📖 now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all. This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

[thefixations-ofmine]

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Tommy Kinard AU (911)

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: age gap, blowjob (m receiving), rimming, pet names

Summary: Former high school football star Evan Buckley navigates his new adult life. A broken down car takes him to the nearest body shop, where a very handsome 30-something mechanic catches his eye - and he's good with his hands too!

A/N: Yay, a new fic! This has been sitting in my head for a while and I finally put it down into words after seeing this manip photo of Oliver with longer hair. Sadly, I put aside some things I had already started, but I'm happy to get more work out there! Constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist | Drabbles Masterlist

“Helping number 36!” A young lady announces over the intercom. A shared gasp fills the room at the loud intrusion, and everyone has a look at their ticket. Evan sighs finally! He walks into the service area and heads to where an assistant is waiting to get his ticket.

“36?” A short man in glasses questions.

“That’s me! I’m Evan,” he answers with a handshake.

“Great, Evan. What brings you in today?”

He goes on for a solid fifteen minutes about all the troubles with his car. From the screeching breaks to the clicking steering and so on. His folks couldn’t afford a new car for when he got his license, and with their money and his combined, a deadbeat ‘64 Buick Skylark was all he could get - while still looking badass. It got him from point A to point B, albeit all the times he had to stop to nudge something back in place or to make sure the oil level was still right. He was saving to get himself a car that was at least of the decade, but it was proving longer than initially planned with all the fixing and maintenance on this one.

“Well, we have a really great old school mechanic, and an open schedule, so we can actually get started today if you’d like!” The assistant states, and proceeds to give him a rundown of the costs. Evan nods and runs back to his car to back it into a garage spot.

“Little further!” He hears a voice call from behind the trunk, unable to see the face of the man in the mirror. “Alright!” He adds waving his hands, and Evan breaks abruptly. He gets out of the car and starts rambling about what needs to be fixed, until a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“We’ve got it, kid.” The deep voice says again, and Evan turns this time, getting a first look at his face. And what a face! He’s surprised at first that he has to look up at him (even for just a few inches), and he rapidly gets lost in his striking blue eyes. “We’ll take care of it like it’s our own,” the mystery man says, bringing Evan back to reality.

“Um, thanks. Yeah, that would be, um, great!” He’s met with a reassuring smile, crinkly nose and all. He smiles back, trying to act as cool.

“I see you play,” Tommy (Evan remembered he could read for a second and saw his name tag) tries to start a conversation, pointing at the high school logo on his t-shirt. He nods. Tommy laughs. “I also used to a few years back. Same high school. Didn’t stick though, I was good with my hands but for different reasons.” If the blush on Evan’s cheeks wasn’t already apparent, that last statement accompanied by a wink surely painted his face a lovely crimson shade. If anything, it keeps Evan from telling him he actually graduated last year, but that’s besides the point.

He lets his eyes wander on the man’s body as he walks around to the hood; he guesses he’s around thirty. His thick veiny hands run along the metal, and thicker, veinier arms struggle to stay contained in the white t-shirt, proving he did in fact play sports in his youth. He likes what he sees, and doesn't know how to act about it. There was one thing a small town high school couldn’t provide you with; a well diverse sex-ed class. Not that nobody talked about it, but it was more often in a bad light than in a supportive kind of chit-chat in the back of a locker room. He had only been exposed to “educative” material through dodgy websites - though he owed his quarter-back wrist strength to that!

Today though, Evan would be happy to learn and explore.

“I’m sorry, do you guys have any water?” He manages to blurt out, running a finger into the neck of his shirt and his other hand up the side of his jeans.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use the hose, kid.” Tommy points him to the side of the building a few feet away. Evan rushes to it, and almost drowns from the big gulps he’s inhaling, and doesn’t notice Tommy’s watching. Doesn’t see how he licks his lips at the sight of his own mouth pursed, and the sway of his Adam’s apple as he swallows vigorously. How Tommy’s eyes run down his arched back as he’s holding himself up with a hand on his knee. When he’s done drinking, some stray drops run down his chin and Tommy wants to lap at them. He clears his throat and goes back to examining the engine when their eyes meet.

A couple hours has brought the awkward moment to a well established conversation between the two as they exchange about cars and Fantasy Football predictions - both of them stealing looks every once in a while, silently eating the other up. When Evan runs his hand on his stomach as it growls, Tommy takes the opportunity to ask:

“Do you wanna grab a bite?”

“Huh?” Evan asks, his brain scrambled from the heat and the blood filling his semi.

“I think I’ll need at least another day before I’m done, and the last piece I took out will keep you from driving home,” he begins. “I thought maybe we could grab a bite and I can drive you back?” There’s another sensation added to the hunger in Evan’s stomach, one he had felt a long time ago when an exchange student from England had arrived at their school. He’d gotten Evan in a corner one day and kissed his lips, and Evan let him for several seconds before he pushed him away, embarrassed - confused. He told him he wasn’t mad, but that this didn’t have to happen again or be made known to others. He still hates himself after all those years for not apologizing before the guy went back home.

“I. Yeah, yeah. That would be great.” He finds the strength to answer.

“Awesome. Let me get out of these overalls and I’ll be right there.”

Evan guides Tommy down the streets of his neighbourhood after leaving the diner, where he had the best burgers of his life. Didn’t I tell ya, kid? He remembers Tommy had said when Evan moaned at the taste of the greasy patty. He turned red right there again, but when his eyes landed on Tommy’s, he realized they were both bothered and hot by the situation. If he was reading it right…

Kid. Evan can’t shake the hold that pet name has on him, a weird mix of adoration and degradation. He wasn’t a kid! He was 19! But then again, in contrast to the well-established, rugged man sitting next to him, as he watches his fingers drum absentmindedly to a Kiss song on the steering wheel, Evan can understand why he uses that word. He hopes it isn’t derogatory, but is willing to prove Tommy wrong. 

When they get to Evan’s house, Tommy drives his car into the empty driveway and turns the engine off with a content sigh. “I guess that’s my stop,” Evan jokes and clumsily goes to tap the center console, unaware that Tommy had leaned his arm onto it, the contact of his hand hitting the strong skin sends a shiver down his spine. Like a deer in headlights, he stays like this, not budging a finger until he hears Tommy chuckle deeply.

“You okay there, buddy?” That was a new one, Evan notes, and he’s sure now that he read the situation wrong because Tommy must see him as a bro, as his little brother’s friend who’s always squatting in the basement. But the second later, Evan is shoved into a new reality when he feels Tommy’s left hand come to cradle his chin to turn his head his way. He’s unable to tell if he’s still breathing, but that can be done manually so he should survive even in the confined space around them. There’s a tentative look in Tommy’s expression, a light smirk as his eyes volley in a triangle between Evan’s lips, his eyes, and the few bunches of curls that pop out of his cap. When the hand on his arm tightens instinctively, Tommy takes the plunge and crashes their lips together.

It’s hungry and unfiltered, and what Buck gives in clumsiness Tommy can redirect and show him he’s really into this. As if his grunts or the hand creeping to the back of Evan’s neck weren’t enough proof that Tommy wasn’t just trying to be nice. That’s when Evan realizes he’s kissing back, and grunting too, and he’s not going to have to feel sorry for the near future because of his stupid brain. He unfastens his seatbelt to try and kneel onto the seat until Tommy laughs into his mouth, now open from having been explored by a hungry tongue.

“Evan,” he begins, “are you sure about this?” There’s a frown on Evan’s face and he wonders what he did wrong, until Tommy corrects: “I mean, is this okay here in the car? Won’t anybody just walk by?” And then Evan smiles.

“My parents are out of town for the week, if you would, um. If you’d like, we can go inside.” It’s like the puffiness of his lips is keeping him from talking properly, but Tommy’s eager to get out of the car and follows Evan to the door, hooking one of his fingers into a loop at the back of his jeans, that way he can pull Evan against him as he shuts the door. They makeout in the entryway for several minutes, hands rushing to touch the other’s skin.

“Sit on the couch,” Tommy says firmly. Evan’s stomach flips again. He obliges, and sits awkwardly on one side of the couch, leaving room for Tommy, completely oblivious to his intentions. Until Tommy grabs both sides of Evan’s ass and manhandles him onto the center, and finds a comfortable spot between his legs on his knees, then Evan understands where this is going and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t send a sweat down his back.

“I, um,” he struggles. “This is um... Has never happened before.” He’s already a panting, sweaty mess even though he’d been in this position before - granted the subjects on the floor were much more petite, delicate and feminine. This was uncharted territory he definitely wanted to wander into, but he felt like he forgot his flashlight and was walking barefoot in gravel through the expedition.

“It’s alright, kid. I just want to take care of you for tonight if you’ll let me, no expectations.” It reassures him already, and he nods in approbation. “You stop me whenever, tap my shoulder and I’ll be gone.” He chuckles along with Tommy, and bites his bottom lip when he’s already working on his fly. He makes quick work of it; good with his hands, Evan thinks back.

And boy does he prove it fast. Evan’s not sure he even got to take three breaths in before Tommy was running his thumb along the bottom of his head, applying a faint pressure that had his blood pumping just right, filling his length the rest of the way, causing him to hiss sharply through his teeth. There seems to be a surprised excitement in Tommy’s expression, and he’s not sure if it’s at his size or the way he’s pathetically putty in his hands already, but he’d let that live in the back of his mind forever.

“Breathe, baby boy,” Tommy encourages as he pumps him now. It’s not the usual technique he’d use on himself, but Tommy found that one to be a safe bet most of the time. He feels Evan relax under him, his legs falling a little further apart and Tommy takes advantage to creep into the new space. His arms are holding Evan’s hips down, his left hand wanders under his t-shirt onto the tight, soft stomach of the sweet boy before him. He’s in pain, straining the zipper of his jeans and he curses himself for wanting to look nice rather than throw on some sweats. But it’s not about him. He hasn’t had dick in his mouth for way too long now, and when that buff twink walked into the garage, he knew there was something to play with in those hugging blue jeans.

“That’s it,” he praises, kissing the tip and sucking the bead of precum that had threatened to glide down. “You taste so good.”

“Than- Thank you sir,” Evan moans from deep in his chest. Tommy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and he sucks in just the tip, then maybe an inch or two, then three, until Evan is a shaking mess under his grip. He sucks his cheeks in on his way up, trying to wet him as much as possible, before connecting their gaze and sinking down fully in a single movement, his nose poking the taunt pubic flesh. Tommy could almost come in his pants at the sight of Evan’s reaction. He can only imagine nobody had gotten that monster down fully without struggling before, and Tommy secretly thanks his first busy years out of the closet for the practice. He pops off after a few seconds.

“Is that okay?” He’s teasing, of course. The wet sounds of his hand pumping with purpose already answer his question.

“Is that… Are you, are you fucking kidding?” He throws his head back with a punched laugh, sending his cap to fall onto his lap. Tommy grabs it and puts it on backwards, and Evan has to shut his eyes or he’ll embarrass himself in the next seconds. The look makes Tommy pass for one of his team mates, and there’s a jolt in his stomach at the idea of fooling around with him in the lockers in high school. Though the age difference dynamic is still strongly present; he can confirm from the tricks Tommy is pulling on him. “It’s, it’s so good Tommy.” He pulls out his name in a high pitched moan. Tommy knows he doesn’t have that many pulls left before he’s tipping him over the edge.

He pulls the coffee table behind him a little closer, until his body is slightly nudged underneath it, and he gently lifts Evan’s feet so they rest on it, spreading him just how he intends. He doesn’t waste his time plunging in, dragging his nose along the crease of Evan’s thigh, then the other, pushing into his balls in the passing. His hands have found a safe place just under his knees, so his dick can get a break as he explores him, smells him. He digs a little lower, and gives a trial lick to Evan’s taint, reading his immediate moan as a sign to keep going until he’s fully making out with his asshole moments later. Tommy groans into him when he feels the curious drag of the boy’s fingers into his hair,  the cap long discarded, asking him to stay right there just a tad longer until he’s a writhing mess and Tommy knows he’s gotta take action. Evan’s legs are burning, his stomach feels stiff and he’s not sure whether the pressure in his head is from an upcoming aneurysm or simply that he’s never had his soul sucked out of his body this expertly.

Evan doesn’t even realize Tommy’s lips are back around his dick until he teases his teeth along the top of his tip, soothing it immediately with a pass of his tongue, ellissiting the loudest, most embarrassing sound he’s ever let out in his - numerous - sexual experiences. His fingers are going numb into the fabric of the couch, his nails threatening to strip off. But he’s not close to putting a stop to whatever Tommy had going on; he hasn’t peeped down in a few minutes, scared that the sight of Tommy looking back at him would have him spill way too quickly. He’s biting his tongue now, because he’s just as close and doesn’t know how to let Tommy know.

There’s no actual moment to think because the next second, Tommy’s nose is up against his pubes and he swallows around him once, and twice. And maybe a third time for good measure. And Evan has to let him know he’s about to coat the back of his throat before he’s making a fool of himself, but Tommy’s deadly grip onto his hips is acting on his ability to enunciate anything.

“To-” He’s at least going to try. “Tommy,” he adds. He brings a hand to venture into his curls again, tugging a little hoping he catches the clue. But Tommy is urging on and has his mind set on the goal. He looks up, winks at Evan and takes one last breath before sinking back down fully, swishing his tongue on the bottom of Evan’s dick and managing to bring it out just enough to give his balls some attention.

Evan’s ears start ringing, he’s seeing white. Am I fucking dying? Then Tommy pulls back and tugs on him a few times until the string snaps and he’s emptying himself into the cup Tommy formed with his tongue, moaning and screaming and gasping for air and he’s panicking at the never ending ropes. He’d come again if he had any energy left when Tommy retrieves his tongue and swallows his load with a deep groan of satisfaction.

“I knew you’d be fucking sweet,” he states. Tommy runs his hands along Evan’s thighs, soothing the downfall of such a high.  He kisses along the muscles of his stomach and up to his neck, where he lays a long, open-mouth kiss to the sweet spot behind his ear. “Was that okay?” He’s genuinely asking.

“You’ve gotta stop doubting yourself, sir.” Evan puffs out a laugh. “This, um - This was the best fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.” He leans back into the couch and runs a hand into his hair, still unsure if the light from earlier wasn’t the end of the tunnel. But the warmth Tommy radiates around his body proves he’s still very alive..

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time, baby,” Tommy answers, daring a quick peck to his lips. He gets up and extends his hands to help Evan up also, making the poor boy realize the big problem he’s created;

“Do you, um. Should I-” He looks down.

“Oh, kitten, no. Don’t worry about me, okay?” Tommy deflects his intentions, hoping to buy himself a separate alone time with the pretty boy. “Plus, I’ll see you tomorrow for your appointment, huh?” He winks. Evan makes a mental note to be refreshed and energized for the day, already planning his undeniable turn for the deed. There’s a light stress in his chest at the thought of having his first experience as a giver with a man be so soon. But he’s on fire standing in front of the most handsome man he’s ever seen, who’s more than likely going to ravish him as soon as he lifts a finger, so he’s not going to fuck this chance up.

“I’ll be there on time, sir.” He nods, walking with Tommy to the front door. He owes him at least a decent goodnight.

“Bring that cute smile of yours.” Tommy has Evan blushing effortlessly, but he’s feeling a little bold. Before Tommy’s hand can turn the handle, he’s got him plastered to the door, and rushes to kiss him silly, moaning and toying with his tongue until they’re both breathless again - and as a preview, lets his hand cup at the slowly dying erection in Tommy’s jeans, earning a playful bite to his bottom lip.

“I’ll bring more than that.”

[twst-aceofhearts]

Forbidden Sarang [Love]

a/n: @luxaryllis & @thegoldencontracts first twst fic yayyy are you two proud of me TT

Tw: mentions of starvation (slight venting from my own parents) and cursing

[if you get easily triggered by this, that's totally fine, please keep scrolling]

royal au! - ace x gn!reader

strangers to lovers trope ehehehe

Taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

words: 5,780 (geez lord have mercy TT)

Yuu was taking a stroll in town. After a long day of classes on how to eat and walk elegantly, they wanted a break from their royal life. Making sure their cloak covered anything distinguishable, they followed the path with a hint of a smile on their face.

What was supposed to be a peaceful outing with the sun not being too harsh, turned into quick trouble. The kingdom’s most well-known troublemaker managed to agitate the guards into a chase.

“Fucking shit— I’m dead!” Ace yells in obvious panic as the guards are hot on his tail. Suddenly, Yuu and him make eye contact. Yuu could tell he was pleading for them to save his ass. 

Thinking quickly, Yuu knocked down a cart of fruits, just in time for the guards to slip and roll around. 

Once in a secluded area, Ace finally got to recover his breath after running for who knows how long. 

“You just saved my ass! I would’ve been dead without you!” He laughs and pats Yuu’s back like their were an old friend. Their disguise was working quite well apparently—nobody would act so casually with a royal.

“Say, who might you be? I never really saw you around before. Though I’m not gonna complain too much.” Ace gave Yuu a curious expression, his body language casual.

“And, uh, what might I call you, just so I can thank you properly for saving my ass?”

“...Yuu.” They murmur, deciding not to reveal too much just yet.

Ace hummed at their response. There was something slightly familiar about it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. He was too tired to really look into it. Instead, he nodded and held out his hand, which Yuu took.

“Ace. Nice to meet you,” he greeted with a grin. Ace lowered his hand after shaking Yuu’s. His mind was still racing after the run from the guards, so he couldn’t really pay attention to the small details of their appearance. Though, it didn’t help that their cloak was covering a good portion of their body from his line of sight. 

“You’re…quite different from the others,” he states, taking a small pause to think. “Where are you from? I don’t remember seeing you around here before…”

Ace had a more perplexed look on his face by now. Yuu’s very presence was rather… intriguing to him. It was as though there was a mysterious air around them, something that was rather uncommon around the kingdom. His curiosity was piqued, and he felt the need to know more.

“Are you just visiting, or..?” he inquired, which Yuu gave a quick nod to. 

“Just.. a tourist. I’m staying in town for a few more weeks,” they reassured. 

Ace hummed in thought. That would explain why he hasn’t seen Yuu around before. They were some ‘random wanderer’ staying temporarily here. 

“Ah, a tourist. That explains it,” he said with a small nod. Despite feeling like there was more to Yuu than meets the eye, he kept his suspicion to himself.

Suddenly, he got an idea, a sly grin returning to his face.

Yuu raised in eyebrow, narrowing their eyes skepticism. “What’s with the look?”

Ace chuckled and moved closer to Yuu, his smirk growing more sly by the moment.

“Well,” he began, his tone hinting that he was up to something. “Considering you helped me out back there and you’re staying here for a while,” he continued, now standing right in front of them, leaning forward to get a better look at them. 

“I think I can offer you a proposal,” he said, his smirk only growing wider.

Ace took a moment to scan over Yuu’s face, taking in their features. Though, it was difficult to see anything under that damn cloak. He couldn’t really tell Yuu’s expression from the way they tensed up from his sudden proximity, either.

But all that didn’t matter—what interested him was the fact Yuu was a “tourist,” and thus an outsider. An interesting one at that.

“You see, I happen to know all the ins and outs of this town,” he stated, his voice low and smooth, “the best shops, the best entertainment, you name it. I oculd be your expert tour guide, and show you all the best places that this town has to offer, but…” 

He paused, giving another sly grin. His next words were spoken in a slow, drawl, “There’s a small price, of course.”

Ace took a couple seconds to savor Yuu’s expectant look to continue. He always loved how people were never sure how to react to his offers. Though, judging by how Yuu didn’t pull away already, he had a guess that they were fairly open-minded to his proposal.

“It’s nothing too serious, trust me,” he began with a chuckle, clearly amused by Yuu’s interest, “I just want a small favor from you, in exchange for being your guide, is all.”

“...what’s the catch?” Yuu finally spoke, questioning his proposition. Ace laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“As I said, it’s nothing too big,” he repeated, raising a hand to Yuu’s face to gently tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. He then lowereed his hand back to his side and leaned in a bit more, still sporting his sly smirk.

“...Are you gonna tell me or should I just go?” Yuu had every intention to leave, giving him a deadpan look—or at least trying to make it obvious, he couldn’t see their face that well. Ace gave a sheepish grin, putting his hands up in a surrendering manner.

“Hey, hey, I’m getting there,” he replied,” “But, since you look so impatient,” he added with another laugh. He paused trying to keep the suspense up for a bit longer. After a moment or two, he finally spoke again, still with a smirk.

“Show me your face.”

“...My face?” Yuu inquired, their voice tinged with a hint of astoundment.

Ace nodded, his smirk staying in place. “Yep. You’ve been hiding that pretty face under that big ol’ hood. I want to see it, since I’m going to be hanging around you for a while anyway,” he explained, leaning in a bit more to get a closer look. 

Yuu brought their hand up, pushing him back by the forehead, “I’ll show you. Just not here.”

Ace was mildly caught off guard by Yuu’s action. It was surprisingly easy for Yuu to push him back. 

“Ouch, feisty,” he cracked a joke, rubbing his forehead before taking a step back—an amused smile was on his face, “Alright, not here. Somewhere ore private, then,” he agreed, crossing his arms and rocking on his heels casually.

Ace glanced around the surroundings, suddenly hyperaware the both of them were still in a somewhat public area. Anybody could stumble upon them, and that was the last thing he wanted. He had a strong hunch that Yuu wasn’t the type to want to be seen by many people either.

“Follow me,” he said, his voice quiet as he moved to start walking. He led you through another set of narrow alleys, to a secluded spot far from where the public eye could see.

Ace finally stopped walking once no one was nearby—for as far as he could see. The area was well shaded, providing a great cover from any unwanted attention.

“There, that’s more like it,” he smirked, leaning against one of the walls and casually looking at Yuu. “Now I believe someone promised to show me their face.”

“...Just..don’t make a big deal out of it…” Yuu murmured, a bit shy—or embarrassed? They weren’t too sure themselves, the king and queen deprived them of any “unsophisticated” emotions.

A small, amused smile appeared on Ace’s face at your shyness. It was clear that Yuu hiding their face had becom a habit for the time being, and he was eager to see why. He could barely contain his excitement as he leaned a bit closer. 

“Just what are you hiding under there, huh? You’re not actually a hideous old hag, are you?” he teased, his tone playful.

In response, Yuu pulled down their hood, looking at him dead in the eyes, expecting shock.

Ace had been expecting something—definitely not this. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight, his playful smirk quickly freezing into a look of surprise. For a moment he could only stare at you in silence, his brain taking a moment to cuompute what he was looking at. Then, it finally clicked.

“W-wait, you’re…” he started, his voice trailing off as his mind still raced.

It took a few seconds more, but soon enough, his initial shock was replaced with a sly grin, his eyes widening with it. “You’re the heir,” he finishes with a whisper, excitement evident in his voice. He couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief—a gleam Yuu could only sigh to.

Ace slowly took a step forward. It was only when he closed the distance between Yuu before he spoke again. “Well, well, well.. Isn’t this an interesting turn of events.” He glanced at them up and down, taking in their features. He made sure not to look at Yuu in a pervy way—he knew his manners—but the look in his eyes clearly showed he was enjoying this.

“...are you done?” Yuu sighed, narrowing their eyes as he continued to eye them up and down.

“Sorry for admiring the view, your highness. How inconsiderate of me~,” he smirked, his eyes still taking in Yuu’s form. There was a very clear hint of admiration in his voice, though it was mixed with a healthy amount of teasing.

“Okay, I get it, the cat’s out of the bag. And now that you know, you would understand that I have to go back to the palace before my parents realize I’m not in my room with my face buried into a textbook.”

Ace hummed at Yuu’s words, a small pout on his face. He wasn’t really looking forward to letting you go so soon, especially after learning their identity. 

“Already?” he complained, not bothering to keep the whining out of his voice. “But I didn’t even get to ask a single question.”

“Maybe next time.” Yuu shrugged with an unimpressed expression.

Ace’s pout intensified at their response. He was really wanting to learn as much as possible about them.

“Ah, come on, you can’t just give me a breadcrumb and run off,” he huffed, his tone bordering one of a toddler about to throw a fit. 

Yuu gave him a blank stare at his complaints, letting out an inaudible sigh. “Fine. Tomorrow, meet me here. Same time.” 

Ace’s pout finally faded into a sly grin, clearly satisfied that Yuu had agreed to see him again. “Heh, you got it. Same time, same place,” he confirmed, giving a mock salute as a show of agreement. 

After getting Yuu’s confirmation, Ace’s smile turned into another smirk, his eyes lighting up mischievously once again. “See you then, your highness~”

With that, he gave a little mocking bow and a wink, before finally turning to leave. He was practically bouncing on his heels as he walked away, clearly more excited than he let on.

Yuu let out a sigh, throwing the cloak hood back onto their head, hiding their face once more as they headed back to the castle.

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

"You're early," Yuu hummed, gently pushing the hood down from their face.

Ace, who had been leaning against one of the many buildings, looked up when he heard Yuu's voice, a familiar smirk appearing on his face.

"Eh, was bored," he shrugged, straightening up to look at them. "I have an excuse, what's yours?"

"...I needed fresh air," Yuu mumbled. Eh, partly true. This is what happens when you have two overbearing, royal parents.

Ace snorted at your answer, a hint of humor in his tone. 

“Fresh air, huh? That’s the best you can come up with?” he teased, taking a couple steps forward, moving so he was now standing in front of Yuu.

He took a moment to look you over, his smirk still in place. However, there was a small, subtle hint of curiosity in his eyes as he continued to study you.

“So, your highness,” he stated, casually crossing his arms over his chest. “I suppose I should address you by your ‘proper’ title, shouldn’t I?”

He didn’t wait for Yuu to respond, moving on. “Though I wonder… how the heir of all people ended up sneaking off and walking the town streets alone.”

“That’s…none of your business,” Yuu sighed, unamused.

Ace chuckled at Yuu’s less-than-friendly response. He had expected as much, but it didn’t deter him from continuing to press them.

“Ah, come on, tell me,” he said in a goading tone, a cheeky grin still on his face. “I just wanna know.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Yuu shrugged, rebuffing him almost immediately.

Ace rolled his eyes at their comment, not expecting Yuu to be so quick to shut him down. Despite that, he didn’t give up. 

“And satisfaction brought it back,” he retorted, the cheekiness in hie expression growing.

Yuu gave up, only letting out a sigh. “Nevermind… what’d you want to ask me so bad yesterday, anyway?”

Ace chuckled, happy that Yuu finally got straight to the point. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms comfortably.

“A lot of things, honestly,” he answered, his smirk turning more sly. “You’re a mystery that I want to figure out, you know. I still can’t believe that the heir is casually sneaking around the town like a normal person.”

“Well, better make it quick. I have an hour, tops.” Yuu pursed their lips. They could only stay so long—after all they bribed their personal maid to distract their parents for this. 

Ace whistled lowly at your limited time, a look of slight mischief on his face.

“Ooh, limited time. What a time crunch. Let’s see…” he mumbled, scratching his chin in exaggeraged thought. Then a sly smirk appeared on his face, an idea suddenly coming to mind.

“Alright, your highness… I got a good question but it might make you a tad uncomfortable,” he mused, his smirk widening at the thought of making Yuu squirm.

“...get on with it,” Yuu muttered, both unimpressed and impatiently.

Ace tilted his head a bit, enjoying the look on your face. “Fine,” he began, dramatically building up the suspense.

“Can royals date commoners?”

Yuu was appalled, their eyes widening slightly. “...you’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. Got a problem with that, your highness?”

Yuu thought for a moment, narrowing their eyes slightly in a train of thought. “Well…I guess? Depends how well I hide the relationship from my parents.”

Ace raised an eyebrow at their response, intrigued. He was fully expecting Yuu to shut him down, but now a new possibility was popping up in his mind.

“So you’re saying you’d be willing to date someone beneath you?”

“You’re thinking of the stereotypes.”

Ace let out a chuckle. He was surprised that one of the snooty royals actually didn’t have a stick up their ass and was pretty okay with dating a commoner.

“I guess you are right, I shouldn’t stereotype,” he hummed, his smirk turning sly once again. Especially if the heir isn’t actually a pompous stick in the mud."

“...wait is that what you think of all royals–?” Yuu’s eyes widened a bit.

Ace snorted and gave an eyeroll. “Most of the time, yeah. Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said flatly, not even trying to mask the disdain in his voice. He’s had plenty of experience with royal nobles that left a nasty taste in his mouth. 

He casually leaned back against the wall once again, his expression a mix of annoyance and disinterest. “They’re all uptight assholes who think their status alone should be enough to get them whatever they want. I haven’t met a single one who I haven’t immediately wanted to throw a pie at.”

Yuu thought for a moment, raising an eyebrow at that last bit. “...you wanted to throw a pie at me?”

Ace barked out a laugh, the mental image of Yuu splattered with pie filling causing him to crack up a bit.

“At first, yeah,” he admitted, the grin on his face telling Yuu that he was completely serious. Before he could say more, however, he caught himself and composed himself a bit more.

“But, erm.. I don’t think I’ll do that now,” he went on, his tone a mix of sheepish and sly. He let out an inaudible breath of relief when Yuu’s expression softened and nodded slowly in acknowledgement. 

Seeing your usually cool expression soften ever so slightly caused a slight flutter in his chest. He decided to press his luck a bit more, taking a small step closer to you.

“That’s not to say you’re completely off the hook, though. I still gotta make sure you aren’t just a pretty airhead.”

“Is…is that an insult?” Yuu narrowed their eyes, letting out an inaudible huff.

Ace let out a small laugh at Yuu’s immediate defensiveness at his words. He casually stuffed his hands in his pockets, enjoying the interaction. “Relax, your highness, it’s more of a tease. Can’t have you turn out to just be another pampered airhead who doesn’t know how to speak their mind, can I?”

Yuu blinked twice, unamused. “If I speak my mind, that’ll get me grounded.”

Ace snorted and rolled his eyes, not surprised that Yuu had to walk on eggshells around their parents. “What, your parents don’t like you having opinions? How stuck up.”

“...That wasn’t a joke.”

Ace raised an eyebrow Yuu’s deadpan tone. The fact that Yuu wasn’t kidding made him let out an incredulous scoff. “Are you serious? You’re scared to share your opinions because daddy dearest would punish you?” he asked, his tone a mixture of skepticism and disbelief.

“Well, yeah… I want to eat dinner.”

Ace’s eyes widened a bit at Yuu’s casual response. It was baffling to him that starvation was normal to them, and they didn’t even see the problem with it. 

“What, they withhold food from you if you speak your mind? I hope you’re joking because that’s ridiculous.” 

Yuu stayed silent at that.

Ace’s eyes widened at their silence. He started down at Yuu for a moment, his face a mix of horror and sympathy. He couldn’t fathom how Yuu’s parents would go to such lengths to control them.

“They seriously do that? They withhold your food from you as punishment?” he asked again, his tone soft and disbelieving.

Uncomfortable, Yuu bit their lip and let out a sigh, glancing up at the sun setting. They needed to go back to their quarters—they knew their maid wouldn’t be able to distract their parents much longer. “Look, just…nevermind that…please, just drop it and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ace frowned, frustrated that Yuu was trying to brush off what their parents were doing to them. But, he knew pushing them would result in Yuu refusing to meet him again. 

“...Fine..,” he reluctantly obliged, letting out a sigh before continuing, “and you promise you’ll show up tomorrow?”

“I showed up today, didn’t I?”

Ace chuckled, small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good point. But hey, you never know. You might decide tomorrow that you want to stay in bed and be a lazy heir.”

Yuu only sighed, shaking their head in denial.They turned away, giving a small wave before fully walking off.

Ace watched them walk away, his smirk gradually shifting into a small smile. He waved back to Yuu, his gaze lingering on their form for a moment before they were out of sight. “Until tomorrow, then, your highness.”

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

(a/n: the first bit is Ace’s POV and the next bit in italic is Yuu’s — if you don’t want to read both, you can pick either one)

That night, as Ace lied awake in bed, his thoughts continued to wander. However, this time it wasn’t thoughts of pranks or shenanigans. It was thoughts of Yuu. He let out a small sigh, running a hand over his face in irritation.

He rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t help one bit—Yuu just kept popping in and out of his head. 

“Don’t you have any dignity?” He berated himself, groaning aloud. “Falling for a royal… what is wrong with you?”

Despite his own protests, his own brain wouldn’t stop its train of thought. The image of Yuu wouldn’t go away, and if anything, their face became more clear as time passed. 

He let out a frustrated sigh, admitting defeat. He was already falling for them, whether he wanted to or not. 

He closed his eyes, a small sigh escaping him as his thoughts finally cleared up, allowing him to succumb himself to sleep.

Yuu walked back towards the castle, sighing softly as they tried to ignore the nagging feeling in their stomach. They’d been having secret ‘escapades’ like this for the past month, and although it was thrilling, it made them feel guilty about it.

Their parents had no idea what their child was doing, and if they found out… Yuu didn’t want to imagine the consequences, but they had a pretty good idea that in the end they’d make them pick freedom or being disowned and thrown onto the streets.

After climbing back up onto their balcony and into their room. Just as they got settled in they heard their mother’s voice from further down the hall. “Yuu? Is that you?”

Yuu froze in their tracks, a wave of anxiety washing over them. They quickly turned to look in the direction of their mother’s voice. “Y-yes mother, it’s me,” they managed to stutter out, their heart rate already picking up a bit.

Yuu’s mother stepped into view a small, skepitical frown on her face. She looked Yuu over, scanning her for any obvious signs of anything suspicious. “Where have you been?”

Yuu gulped silently, their mind scrambling to come up with an excuse. Though, they’ve gotten good at white lies. “I’m sorry for staying out so late, mother, I lost track of time at the orphanage.” 

Yuu had told their parents that they’d been volunteering at an orphanage, taking care of the children. Their parents only approved in the first place because it made the royal family look good. It was true, staying there for an hour before exploring the town—that bit, their parents didn’t know about. Guess they didn’t need to bribe the maid in the first place.

Yuu’s mother raised an eyebrow at their answer, her frown softening. She’d been skeptical about Yuu’s frequent visits to the orphanage, but at least her child seemed to be behaving. “I suppose that’s alright… you certainly seem invested in your volunteer work.”

Her tone was a little less suspicious, though there was a hint of sternness. “But you should be more mindful of the time and come straight back to the castle when you’re done.”

“You’re right, mother. I’ll be more mindful of the time next time,” Yuu said, trying to keep their voice steady and innocent-sounding. Thank god it worked.

Yuu’s mother studied her for a moment longer, before nodding in satisfaction. “Very well, I expect you to be more responsible in the future,” she said sternly, before walking off.

With their mother gone, Yuu quickly slipped into their room and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment to let out a sigh of relief. They were glad that her mom had believed their white lie, but they couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Lying to their parents like that made them feel uneasy, even if it was to keep their secret meetings with Ace. 

Yuu made their way to their bed and sat down on the edge of it, their mind still swirling with thoughts. They knew meeting up with Ace like this was a risk, and the more they did it, the greater the chances of their parents finding out. But on the other end of the spectrum, they couldn’t bring themself to stop. There was something about the secret meetings with Ace made them feel… alive, for a lack of a better word.

Sighing, Yuu fell back onto their bed, staring up at the ceiling as they tried to calm their racing thoughts. Tomorrow they’d see Ace again, and the thought of it made their heart skip a beat. Though, they knew they had to be careful and not let their get their emotions get the best of them.

With that in mind, Yuu took a a deep breath and forced themself to relax. They closed their eyes and tried to push away the worries and anxiety, drifting into a restless sleep.

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

As the days turn into weeks, the secret meetings between Yuu and Ace continued on a daily basis. Each day, both of them would meet up in the usual spot, spending the rest of the afternoon together, talking, playing games, and occasionally doing a bit of magic on Ace’s end.

Yuu found that as time went on, they felt less and less guilty about sneaking off to see him. They started looking forward to the meetings more and more, soon enough to the point where they couldn’t imagine the day without spending time with him.

Ace, for his part, couldn’t help but feel a bit of thrill every time he met up with Yuu. Seeing them smile and laugh and hearing them talk about their day—it made him feel a sense of satisfaction he’d never felt before. As their bond grew stronger, Ace found himself looking forward to each new day, knowing he’d get to see Yuu again.

However, despite the growing affection between the two, they were both aware that their relationship wasn’t exactly ideal. Yuu was the next heir to the thrown and Ace was a “lowly” commoner. If their secret meetings were discovered, the consequences would be dire. 

Yuu found themself growing more attached to Ace with each passing day. His carefree attitude and mischievous nature just felt refreshing, almost addictive compared to the rigidness of royal life. Their secret meetings were a sweet drug to them, making them feel in control of their own life for once. Yuu shook off the looming cloud of their inevitable separation, trying not to think about it and enjoy it while it lasted. 

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

Ace tried his best to hide a bouquet behind his back as Yuu glanced at him, but he couldn’t completely conceal the nervous energy he felt. He gave them a small, sheepish smile, his heart thudding in his chest as he tried to summon up the courage to give Yuu the bouquet.

“Uh.. hey there, your highness,” trying his best to act casual. He glanced at Yuu, trying to gauge their reaction as discreetly as possible, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal his little gift.

Yuu caught a glimpse of Ace’s furtive glances, and they could see the slight tension in his body. They found it a little adorable, how he tried to play it cool while obviously hiding something behind his back. 

Curiosity piqued, they feigned ignorance, looking up at him with an innocent smile, silently encouraging him to reveal the surprise.

Ace gave a small nervous chuckle, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could tell Yuu was feigning ignorance, but he played along, maintaining his casual demeanor as he slowly brought the bouquet around to the front, revealing the colorful, yet modest looking flowers.

“Oh, this?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just something I picked up along the way.” He held the bouquet out to Yuu, waiting for their reaction.

Yuu’s eyes widened slightly as Ace revealed the bouquet, their breath hitching in their throat. They hadn’t expected something so sweet and thoughtful from him. They couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that spread across their face as they looked up at him.

Ace.. you didn’t have to…they’re beautiful,” Yuu murmured, their hand brushing against his as they took the flowers from him, gently holding it to their chest.

A feeling of relief washed over Ace as he saw the smile on Yuu’s face, a mixture of happiness and pride swelling in his chest. He’d been worried that the gesture might come across as too cheesy or cliche or over-the-top—seeing Yuu genuinely pleased made his heart beat a bit faster.

He gave a small chuckle, trying to play it cool as he spoke up. “Glad you like them. I saw them and immediately thought of you.”

Yuu’s heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through their chest. They knew that Ace’s carefree nature often concealed his more thoughtful side, and moments like these showed them just how much he cared.

They sniffed the flowers, a small smile still on their lips, and looked up at him again. “They smell wonderful too,” they murmured, continuing to hold the bouquet against their chest. 

Ace’s gaze softened as he watched Yuu hold the bouquet to their chest, admiring the small, bashful smile on their face. It was moments like these that he longed for, seeing Yuu so content and visibly happy. 

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he spoke up again. “You know, they’re not the only thing that smells nice around here…”

Yuu looked up at him in confusion for a moment before it dawned on them what he meant, her cheeks growing warm almost immediately. They blushed furiously, their heart rate picking up a bit as they tried to come up with a witty response to match his tease. But all Yuu could do was manage a flustered stammer. 

“Y-you…you’re ridiculous, you know that…?” Yuu managed to stutter out, their grip on the bouquet tightening slightly. 

Ace chuckled heartily at their reaction, clearly pleased with how flustered he’d made them. He took a step closer to Yuu, still wearing a mischievous smile. “And here I thought I was being romantic,” he chided with a teasing tone, his gaze never leaning Yuu’s. He had always enjoyed getting a rise off of them, and seeing them so caught off guard was definitely satisfying.

Yuu rolled their eyes, trying to regain their composure despite the rapid thumping of their heart. They knew he loved seeing themself flustered, and it took all their willpower to not give him the satisfaction.

Yuu gave him a small pout, still holding onto the bouquet against their chest. “You weren’t being romantic, you were being a smart-ass,” they huffed, their cheeks still tinged pink. 

Ace feigned mock offense, a hand flying to his chest in a dramatic gesture. “You wound me, your highness,” he said with an exaggerated gasp, his grin widening as he saw Yuu’s pout. “I’ll have you know I’m being very romantic. I got you flowers, after all,” he teased, gesturing to the bouquet in their arms.

Yuu huffed again, their cheeks still warm from his earlier comment. “Just because you got me flowers doesn’t mean you’re Aphrodite,” they hummed, trying seem annoyed but failing miserably.

They glanced down at the bouquet, a small fond smile tugging at the corner of their lips. Despite their teasing, Yuu couldn’t deny that his gesture was touching, and that he’d clearly put some thought and effort into it.

He took another step closer, his smile softening slightly as he spoke. “Oh come on, give it a rest. You know you love it when I’m being romantic.”

He reached out to gently brush a loose strand of hair behind their ear, his touch gentle and affectionate. Yuu’s heart fluttered as Ace’s hand brushed their hair aside, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through their body. 

“W-well, I…guess I do owe you appreciation for the flowers..” Yuu murmured shyly, their face feeling warm from his touch and comments. 

Ace’s smile widened as Yuu hesitantly admitted that they enjoyed his gesture. He chuckled, moving his hand from their ear to rest atop their head, giving their hair a gentle ruffle. 

“Damn right, you do,” he replied with a teasing tone. 

Yuu tried, unsuccessfully to swat his hand away as he ruffled their hair, wrinkling their nose at his playful tone.

However despite their “annoyance”, there was a small, fond smile on their face. Yuu loved the playful banter between the two of them, knowing that Ace was only like this because he knew Yuu secretly enjoyed it. 

“Okay, fine. You got me.” Yuu smiled, their heart pounding in their chest as they stepped forward, planting a small, quick yet tender kiss onto his cheek. “...thanks for the flowers, Ace.”

Ace’s eyes widened slightly in suprise. He recovered quickly though, a sly smile creeping onto his lips as he wrapped an arm around their waist, pulling them closer. 

“See, was that so hard?” he said with a cheeky laugh and grin.

Yuu rolled their eyes again, but this time there was no heat behind it. Instead, Yuu found themself leaning into his touch, their annoyance giving way to a small, fond smile.

“No, but you’re still insufferable,” Yuu chided, the playful barb carrying no weight. 

Ace pulled them even closer, closing the gap between Yuu and him so that their bodies were practically touching. 

He tilted his head slightly, his voice low and playful as he spoke again. “Nahhh, you love it. You love everything about me, and even my insufferable-ness.”

Yuu tried to come up with a witty retort, but all that came out was a soft, flustered stammer. They cursed internally, and took a moment to gather themself before speaking up again. “You’re so fully of yourself,” Yuu managed to blurt out, their voice slightly shaking.

Ace leaned in, his voice low and teasing as he spoke into Yuu’s ear. “Yeah, but you love it. You know you do.” He was loving this, knowing Yuu was so flustered all because of him. He pressed a small affectionate kiss to her temple.

Ace felt Yuu relax against him, their guard finally dropping as they allowed themself to get caught up in the moment. He could feel their heart racing, and the way they practically melted into him was incredibly satisfying. 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of their neck, inhaling Yuu’s scent. It was sweet and floral, like a mix of roses and lilies. He murmured Yuu’s name softly, the word barely a whisper against their skin. He pulled away slightly for a moment, before leaning in slowly, his lips capturing Yuu’s into a tender kiss.

credits for divider: @cafekitsune

based off of character AI by FluffiMemes

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: For Loving One

Father Fell has been living a quiet life in a small parish. Despite the looming fear of war, he thought he was content with his small pleasures. Until a mysterious stranger comes to town, turning that life on its head and awakening desires the Father thought he buried long, long ago...

Length: 64,011 words AO3 Rating: Explicit/ Spice Level 🔥🔥 Best for/Keywords: Safe in Public, Human AU, WWII, Light Angst, Religious Themes Major Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)

*Minor Spoilers* This story is a powerful tale of a broken and desperate Crowley finding sanctuary in Father Fell's care during World War II. The life they carve out for themselves, and their small but loving community. It's about finding the soft things in dark times, and holding on to your humanity. And it is so wonderfully, them.

There was clearly a lot of effort put into making this wartime setting as accurate as possible. It was so easy to sink into and picture fully. The attention to detail is impressive, and it really adds weight to the themes of this story. There's danger from outside forces in Crowley's case, but there's also the internal battle of Ezra's faith. Ezra’s struggle with his desires, and the way he’s been taught to suppress them for a version of God that feels forced on him is such a powerful narrative, and I love how this story digs into that. It's always beautiful to see this character make peace with himself and the version of Faith that he believes in. Not the verison he was told to believe blindly.

This does have some sex scenes towards the end, but none are very graphic. You'll be fine in public for this, but I suggest a quiet atmosphere. It's something a little slower and more contemplative. Make sure you're in the right space to take all of it in! This is a gorgeous and deeply romantic story that I hold very dearly and I hope you also enjoy!

Read it here, fic by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)