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sorryimananti-romantic · 4 months ago

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Star 1117

human!wooyoung x alienoid!reader

space apocalypse au

genres and warnings: fluff, angst, slow burn, bittersweet i hope, bits of hurt/comfort, alien yeosang and human jongho scs, coachella yun cameos, violence warnings

wc: 26k

synopsis: on your mission to save your home star 1116, and to find the last planet in the temporal nexus galaxy called star 1117, you arrest the human from earth- jung wooyoung. you find that he's been receiving cryptic messages from your galaxy, ones that make you question your purpose. together, you uncover secrets and take big risks to find the truth about the galaxy and star 1117's existence while wooyoung teaches you the true meaning of 'home'.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell ("or just die bro" "yeah it's not that hard" - famous last words from loren and yumi) (disclaimer: ^said in the context of the fic)

Home is not where the heart is.

You’ve always thought that it was a very human thing to think of the ‘heart’ as anything but the organ that it was. The heart’s only function was supposed to be to pump blood into your body and keep you running. But often, it was romanticised as a repository that stored human emotions in all their hideous glory. That was human nature in its nutshell which eventually doomed your forefathers, resulting in a bitterness that etched itself on the strands of their genes of which you carried generations worth of despite your half-human nature.

The bitterness was justifiable. Your great-grandfather did not know that when he left his home, the planet Earth, he would get lost in the endless expanse of space and never find his way back. You often wondered if the humans ever even looked for him but you wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t. Somehow, he ended up receiving help from the Nexi and ended up on a planet just like his homeland and died trying to find his way back.

It was him who introduced that saying- home is where the heart is. You often read his journals and found it strange how he described everything that was close to his heart- the family he had left behind, a ‘cat’ which was supposed to be some strange, harmless feline creature that often dwelled in the homes with humans, and a lot of other things that made little to no sense but often sparked curiosity in you. He had left his heart back on the planet Earth and he died trying to find his way back. Perhaps, his home was where his heart was. But to you…

Home was Star 1116, the land where your parents gave birth to you and the land where they were never accepted. The planet that resembled the Earth that had been their home had their forefathers never left in search of finding something similar. Home was the land that had raised you with its magnificent, tall, iridescent mountains and deep, dark valleys that glowed from within when it met the golden gleaming soil that lit up your planet. Home was a location- the place where you took your first steps and found out what it meant to be half human- dangerous yet protected. Home was the place they told you to leave because they were scared of what you could do, even though you looked just like them. You had a human heart, which was an insult, not a compliment, even though your father insisted that it was the latter.

Your heart was inside your body. Your home was tem-nex units away, so far that you could not even see it anymore. Your home was not where your heart was.

“Any more reminiscing and you will find that you can blast lasers through your eyes too.”

“Yeah. I’m getting tired of her sighing. It sounds awful,” Yeosang said but you ignored him, shooting a glare at Jongho who shielded himself as if you really were going to blast lasers from your eyes.

“You’ll be the first to know if I do,” you told him, tossing your grandfather’s drawing of his cat on the desk where it landed between a pile of journals. “Any update on our target’s location?”

“Just a few tem-nex units away now,” Jongho said, adjusting his vision glasses. “Wanna place bets? I have a feeling it’s one of our old human friends in a dusty old spaceship running away from the Nexi.”

“I have a feeling that it’s just a poor rock and our systems need a big software update,” Yeosang sounded tired even though all he had done recently was lay limp on his couch.

“I’m with Yeosang on this one,” you went towards him and he raised his hand to share a fistbump but you just pulled him up, earning a startled yelp from him. “Go check the exhaust outlets and our guns. If it’s a rock we need ammo to blast it. And I’m tired of hearing your tired voice when all you’ve done is rot the last few days.”

“Nothing’s fun anymore,” Yeosang pouted, collecting himself. “Our exhaust outlets are fine, our ammo is all loaded. We still have no clue about Star 1117’s location or purpose. I’m just making the same old mandatory assessments and I’ll come back right here and lie down just like before-”

Your pupils must have contracted in warning because he raised his hands in surrender before scurrying off. Jongho’s low giggles echoed in the control room and you took your seat back, sharing a grin with the human. It was always fun to bully the oldest in the room, especially to Jongho who was the youngest and the only human aboard.

You were both in the middle of checking if all the buttons on the panel of your rather old spaceship were working, with you making a few quick repairs, when Yeosang’s hasty footsteps caught your attention. He took a few deep breaths before he knocked on the metal wall to get Jongho’s attention.

“Is our radar not working?”

“It is,” Jongho confirmed, “What’s wrong?”

“I can spot a spaceship not far from our current location- unidentified,” Yeosang said and Jongho frowned, checking the radar. He looked at you and you touched the panel, allowing the silver, branch-like neurons to extend from your fingertips and read the device, trying to assess any damage but detecting none.

“Radar’s fine. Are you telling us that it might be an unregistered spaceship?” You asked.

All the spaceships in your galaxy, the Temporal Nexus, were supposed to bear a location tracking device and if in the rare instance that a spaceship did not have one, it was never a good sign.

“Come, check it out,” Yeosang urged and the two of you uncertainly got up, following him towards the back of your ship to the window. Indeed, you could spot the outline of a rusty old spaceship in the distance and Jongho lent you his glasses so you could zoom in and take a closer look.

It was definitely not a Nexi spaceship, yet it was in Nexi territory, far from where humans had ever dared to roam. The only time humans had attempted to cross over was how your great grandfather made it to Star 1116, which led to a lot of complications with the planet Earth and its humans and eventually, the Temporal Nexus Accords were penned. The crux of it was that both Nexi and humans would follow these rules and regulations for harmony in space- harmony was a funny way to put it when the humans knew that they could easily be outmatched.

“It can’t be a human, right?” Yeosang asked, his glinting silver eyes indicating that he felt threatened. “It must be someone fooling around. Should we take a look or let it go?”

“It’s still an unidentified spaceship,” you reminded him. “We’re literally space patrol, Yeosang. We can’t let it go.”

“You know it was just an excuse to kick us out of Star 1116 because we were snooping around,” Jongho scoffed and you rolled your eyes- somehow, you were still more butthurt about it than the human himself. “But yes, we should take a look.”

“Alright, steer closer. Yeosang- you and me, dome, now. Get the guns.”

While Yeosang went to the storage, you hurried behind Jongho back towards the control room and pressed the button at the far end to get access to the ladder that led you to the observation dome. You made room for Yeosang and Jongho passed you binoculars. Crouching on all fours, you narrowed your eyes in focus as you peeked through the lens, muttering curses when you found how tinted the viewscreen was. There were human alphabets inscribed on the spaceship which confirmed your suspicions.

“Anything ring a bell?” Yeosang asked as he crouched down next to you, taking the binoculars from you. Yeosang was referring to the ships on the watchlist that you had been monitoring for a while now.

“Nothing. You?”

“I don’t see anyone inside. What are the chances that it’s abandoned?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smirked and Yeosang shook his head.

As Jongho decreased the speed when your spaceships got closer, you noticed something odd- almost like a few lights flickering inside the spaceship from what you could grasp, considering the heavily tinted viewscreen. You wondered what that was for. Yeosang warned Jongho to take care of the oxygen levels as he pressed the button on the glass dome, opening it and activating the manual shield just in time-

You got your answer in the form of a rocket colliding with your spaceship which rattled you despite the shield. You gripped at the shaft tightly, allowing yourself just a moment before joining Yeosang outside and asking him to lift the shield so you could prepare for the offensive. Yeosang passed you the revolver and you wrapped your hand around the hilt, a grim smile starting to spread on your lips as you allowed the neuron extensions from the tip of your nails to grow and slide inside the gun to wrap themselves around the bullets.

While Yeosang provided cover, shooting any rocket that came in your range, you fired and shut your eyes, waiting for the bullet to hit the exterior. As soon as you felt the collision inside you thanks to the neurons, you let the bullets sink into the spaceship so you could read it.

There was a single human on the spaceship, as young as you. Strangely, the fear factor the human was displaying was less than the aliens you had caught on patrol, which was commendable. Perhaps, the human was a fool and had no idea what he had gotten himself into- you may be half-human but that did not mean you were going to pity the intruder.

“He’s going to run out of ammo soon,” you opened your eyes, switching your weapon and helping Yeosang, shooting bullet after bullet that disintegrated the man-made ammunition in a mere blink. “I wonder how much he brought to have lasted this long- he’s so far from planet Earth.”

“I guess you’ll ask him soon,” Yeosang fired at the last rocket and snickered. You started making your way towards the ladder, preparing to gain access to the human’s spaceship and making sure to keep your revolver with you. Perhaps, the human would like seeing that in your hand.

When Jongho stopped the ship, you opened the hatch on your spaceship to access the ladder so the two of you could walk across to the other. You started knocking on the entry hatch once you reached the human’s spaceship but you didn’t get a response. You placed your hand on the surface and spoke, making sure your voice would be heard inside the vehicle.

“You can either open and welcome us, or we will welcome you. You won’t like that.”

A few moments later, the hatch opened with a loud shudder, allowing you both inside. You waited until it shut before walking forward, observing your surroundings which weren’t much, just equipment, until you heard a shuffle.

And then came in front of you a man, a human man who felt as familiar as Jongho whom you had spent all your life with, yet so different. Even though he looked at you with a sort of surprised glare, dark tendrils of his hair covering his furrowed brows, his presence had a warm quality about it and you wondered if it was a human thing- you had definitely felt it with the humans around you. Some of them.

He stood his ground, defenceless and squaring his shoulders with every passing second. “Welcome to my humble abode. I’m Jung Wooyoung, at your service.”

Yeosang raised a brow and looked at you- you were far too busy identifying the possible layers within that delicate voice. Your lips parted as if to say something but you couldn’t produce a single sound at the moment so Yeosang decided to take over.

“What in the stars is a human doing here alone?” His voice boomed in the room as he asked. “You’ve violated just about a handful of the Temporal Nexus Accords. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“Well,” he shrugged. “It’s not like I can go back. I’m wanted on Earth too.”

“And you thought it was a good idea to roam around? You’re almost out of food and you just ran out of ammunition-”

“But it looks like I haven’t run out of luck,” he breathed, collecting himself with a wink in your direction which threw you off. “What do you usually do with people like me?”

“Escort them to the station for judgement.”

“Yikes,” he said. “I have so many questions but I’ll hold back.”

You spotted the nervous shift from one leg to another as he put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He was obviously considering all his options which frankly were quite limited. He had just about two choices- get escorted to the station or face execution right here.

“How did you make it so far?” You asked, frowning deeply. “Even the Nexi find it hard to avoid the patrol when they try to reach human territory.”

“Let’s say I possess a special set of skills,” he grinned wickedly. “Stealth, for starters.”

“I don’t quite believe that,” Yeosang commented.

“Well, your ship did not catch mine on radar, did it?” Wooyoung asked and Yeosang confirmed that it hadn’t. “Also, when you’re running from two groups of species, you find that there is no better fuel to reach the victory line than desperation.”

“Why are the humans after you-”

“What do you mean by victory line?” Yeosang asked at the same time and you both exchanged glances- this sure was an odd individual. You urged Yeosang to continue.

“How far did you want to travel with such limited supplies?”

“Not that limited,” Wooyoung began to argue but you raised a hand in the air, making him raise both his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m doomed anyway. Go ahead. Finish your job.”

“Why are you here, and why are the humans after you?” You asked, stepping towards him. “Answer properly this time.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“In space?” You looked at Yeosang, knowing that the human wasn’t telling the whole truth. “And so far away from your home?”

“Yes, and I’m not sure if that someone is still… well, alive, in one form or another. But I needed to check a few things for myself,” he said in all seriousness.

“You’re looking for a human? Did your human get lost in space?” Yeosang asked.

“Not my human,” Wooyoung let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s complicated, but I’m not sure if it’s a human or an alien I’m looking for. Could definitely be one of the humans from the group that got lost around here a few decades ago- a descendant of them. I don’t think they got ‘lost’, by the way, but maybe that’s just me.”

You licked your lips in thought, trying not to look at the very bewildered Yeosang but you both knew that the humans he was talking about must be your ancestors and the group of them. “What’s it to you, then? Who are you to try to find them?”

“Again, I’m not trying to find them, they must be dead by now, but I’m curious to investigate. I was obviously a fool for taking matters into my own hands, but they didn’t take me seriously, the people back on Earth,” he admitted. “And when I started looking into the matter, they tried to get rid of me. Subtly. But I’ve always been known to possess maniacal qualities, and here we are.”

You grimaced at that, “So you’re an idiot. Yeosang, take him.”

“Wait,” Wooyoung snatched his hand away before Yeosang could grab him. “Let me grab my things.”

“You won’t need them,” you told him. “You should have stayed back on Earth. You might have lived longer.”

With that, Yeosang strapped the vitals regulator watch on Wooyoung and you started to leave the ship, wanting to go back to the comfort of your own ship as soon as possible.

“You’re a human, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asked and you stopped in your tracks, turning back to meet his eyes as a deadly silence overtook. “He’s an alien, this one, even though he looks human, but you… You must be human.”

“I’m an alien,” you glared at him, the neurons from your fingertips branching like claws to prove your point. “And it would do you good to shut your mouth.”

However, you weren’t sure if your words triggered him or if he just had a mouth on him- was it a human thing? Jongho was talkative but a different type- cracking random jokes.

But this man?

He was getting on your nerves. You had to admit that his lung capacity was admirable considering the long string of sentences he sprouted as soon as he entered your spaceship. You caught a few words- something about a ‘cool’ spaceship, some technical stuff that to your horror, Yeosang was happy to provide his input for, and then something about his own rusty old spaceships and how ‘humans could never’.

“Oh, now that’s a human if I’ve ever seen one,” Wooyoung clapped his hands as soon as he saw Jongho.

“How can you tell?” Yeosang asked. “I thought I looked like a human too.”

“Nah, you’re too pretty,” Wooyoung waved a hand in dismissal and you blinked. “It’s the sheer… presence of him. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Jongho started chuckling after he recovered from the initial surprise of seeing a human on board- a human that was not a resident of one of the 1117 planets in this galaxy.

“I don’t know what you both mean,” Yeosang almost pouted.

“Come closer,” Wooyoung called and you watched in horror as Yeosang obeyed, the three of them huddling close to each other. “This human- the warmth, the smell-”

“You’re telling me you could tell I’m human because I stink like one?”

While your crew burst into giggles, afraid to laugh properly in fear you would react aggressively- which you seldom did but you made sure the fear factor was a constant- Wooyoung started profusely explaining that he didn’t mean it like that but there was something about humans that smelt and felt like home to him. He did not comment on how you had admitted that you were human too.

“Oh, you humans and your associations with the word home,” you spat, getting morbid flashbacks of the time your father tried to explain how association worked and failed. “Lock him in the cell- he’s too talkative.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung yelled at you but Yeosang reluctantly patted his back, telling him the cell wasn’t that bad, just a room where he could take his final rest before being presented in the station for his execution, which did nothing to help the human. Meanwhile, Jongho started going through Wooyoung’s things and you joined him, finding a few strange food wrappers and pens, a compass that made you smile in awe because it looked very much like the one you possessed, a bundle of notes and folders, an odd device that you set aside for the time being, and then his own journal.

You held the journal in your hands and allowed yourself to look at his memories associated with it, shutting your eyes and watching the images that flashed in your mind-

Grass. More vibrant than the grass on Star 1116, decorated by little colourful flowers that you had always heard of but never seen. The laughter of a woman and the laughter of kids, spreading warmth through your chest. Large bodies of water, as blue as the sky, welcoming you in its cool embrace.

And then… anger and confusion. Screaming and shouting- your face suddenly felt wet. Were those tears? You hear incoherent yelling and loud thumps of things as they smashed against each other. You felt terror consume every fibre of your being and you felt out of breath- you were running. Soon after followed a sense of dread before guilt consumed you-

“Captain- hey, y/n,” Jongho cautiously shook your arm, bringing you back to reality. “You good?”

You retracted the neurons and set the journal aside, realising your face was wet. “He knows about Star 1116.”

Jongho pursed his lips in thought. “Is that really something we should worry about?”

“He knows our ancestors made it to Star 1116,” you added for clarification. “He mentioned that he didn’t think they got lost in space like everyone claimed they did.”

“Ah… that complicates things, doesn’t it?”

“Are we sure the station wouldn’t have caught his spaceship on their system?” You asked, moving towards the control panel which was displaying normal readings.

“What are you thinking?” Yeosang’s voice interjected as he entered the room.

“I need to have a talk with Wooyoung,” you said, looking at your partners. “He intended to find Star 1116 and the humans living there and collect some evidence regarding them.”

“Well… he’s found them,” Jongho raised his hand. “I think his mission was successful in that case.”

“Half successful, and he might not know that Star 1116 is a habitable planet for humans. He might be thinking you’re from Earth.”

“One way to find out,” you stifled a devilish grin.

“Don’t go all kitty claws on him,” Yeosang warned with a chuckle and you hissed at him- he always used that phrase, having heard your father call you that when you were younger and more reckless with the alien traits that you inherited from your mother.

You told him that you would not need to do that. He was here on a mission and this was the perfect opportunity to use that to gain a possible ally. You took a closer look at his navigation equipment before going to your room to rest, taking the strange device that looked like a radio with you- you didn’t want the boys seeing you get emotional again-

And talking about emotions- why did the human’s overwhelming feelings cause your heart to clench in pain? Why did it bring tears to your eyes? You didn’t despise human emotions- you thought they were beautiful in their own strange way but never did you think you would be able to relate to them on an intrinsic level. Perhaps, it was the human in you. No matter how much you tried to repress it, it would always remind you that it was a part of you, integrating with your Nexi gene as one.

But you soon found out that there were other forms of emotions that involved tears, and not just the embarrassing ‘crying’ you had almost done earlier.

There were tears rolling down the cheeks of both the human and the alien in your crew as they laughed their lungs out. You had heard a bunch of inhumane noises in your sleep which prompted you to wake up and take a look, but the last thing you expected was-

“Are you having a fucking party here?” You grimaced at the sight of the three boys in a circle with half eaten food in between, noticing a bunch of new dishes that you hadn’t seen in a while, the fragrant scent of it filling your nose and almost calming you. Wooyoung looked at your disgusted expression and only laughed harder.

“This one was supposed to be in the cell,” you pointed at Wooyoung as you looked at Yeosang and Jongho in question. “What is going on?”

“He was complaining about being hungry and when he offered to make us food, we decided to check how good a cook he was,” Jongho answered. “Surprisingly good, turns out. You should have seen him in the kitchen, y/n.”

“Since the station hasn’t sent a message yet, that means they haven’t figured out that we have a human aboard. We could use him as our servant,” Yeosang’s eyes gleamed with mischievous hope.

“That’s what you think of me?” Wooyoung smacked his biceps, looking hurt. “I thought we were friends!”

“No one is becoming friends with anyone here,” you clapped, prompting the boys to start cleaning up. “Don’t make me call the station myself, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Aren’t you a boomer,” he clicked his tongue.

“A boomer?” You asked, wondering what that meant.

“A true boomer,” Wooyoung grinned, passing you a tray of food he had kept for you. “Basically means you don’t know how to have fun.”

“I’m not here to have fun,” you grimaced at the word and he pressed the tray into your hands before resuming tidying the floor, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle. Yeosang caught your eye and urged you to sit and try the food and you reluctantly obeyed-

And immediately thought of home.

Home, when your grandfather and grandmother were alive and cooked the human dishes for you- the dishes that they had learned from their parents. You could taste the familiar spices that your grandmother loved in the broth Wooyoung made, the scent immediately transporting you to one of your happier memories when you didn’t have to worry about being an anomaly and could enjoy simple moments with your family. You looked at Jongho who was smiling knowingly- he could definitely understand what you were feeling right now.

“I can’t eat this,” you looked at Jongho.

“It’s okay, Captain,” he chuckled. “It’s just like our grandparents made for us, yeah? Go on, have a taste of the vegetables too.”

You hesitated but reluctantly took a spoonful of the vegetables with rice, a sense of dread washing over you but Yeosang’s hand on your back calmed you and you realised that maybe, the feelings of dread were present because you were scared to accept that there was a human on board who was making you acknowledge the human parts in you through food, of all things.

That’s what you disliked about being human- that you were so easily swayed.

Wooyoung watched you cautiously from a corner while he absently sweeped the floor with a broom- he hadn’t expected you to react that way and it was surprising to see the group of you interact. If you weren’t fully human, he wondered why you weren’t as hostile towards Jongho as you were to him.

You finished your food before you knew it, and though it annoyed you that Wooyoung was proudly grinning, you decided to give it a rest for now and focus on the more important matters.

“What is this device?” You placed the black rectangular, almost hollow box on the table and Wooyoung pursed his lips, tossing the broom in the corner and joining your crew on the table.

“What do you think it is?”

“A broken radio?” You asked, opening its back to show how it had no batteries. “I can’t read it.”

“And what would you mean by that, sweetheart?” Wooyoung asked and once again, you had to repress the anger bubbling in your throat at the term while Jongho and Yeosang shifted uncomfortably in their positions.

“I can read memories and emotions or feelings associated with objects, and I can’t read this,” you clarified for him. “And I want you to tell me why unless you want me to read you.”

“That’s… strange, actually,” Yeosang cocked his head, taking the device from you. “Are you sure you can’t read it?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, looking at Wooyoung. “So?”

Wooyoung’s hesitation was palpable. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Don’t even think about lying,” you told him, the neurons protracting from your fingernails making him jump a little.

“Whoa, put your murder mittens away,” Wooyoung shielded himself with his hands raised between you. “You probably can’t read because it’s what it looks like- a broken radio. It has no deeper meaning-”

“Everything has a deeper meaning,” you glared at him. “You wouldn’t bring a broken radio to space, for starters. Have you been getting some sort of a signal?”

When he didn’t answer, you knew what you had to do. You looked at Yeosang who nodded and came in front of Wooyoung. “If you really want to get somewhere with her, you better cooperate.”

“I would, but I don’t know if I can trust her- you guys with the information I have,” he admitted, sounding serious. “I do receive signals sometimes, but they don’t really make sense. I’ve been able to trace them, though, and it looks like they come from around here.”

“An alien sending signals to a human on earth?” Jongho looked at Yeosang. “Doesn’t sound implausible. What for, though?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s mostly gibberish- I can’t make sense of it.”

“Did you at least note them down?” Jongho asked.

“Yeah, in a notepad- it should be in my bag,” Wooyoung said, getting up and grabbing his bag from the couch, shuffling through it while you made eye contact with your crew, all three of you as sceptical as the other.

“It’s not here?” Wooyoung looked at you.

“Everything that belongs to you is in that bag,” you said.

“We didn’t touch it,” Yeosang said, and the boys raised their hands in surrender.

“Did you drop it?” Wooyoung looked incredulous.

“I’m not that clumsy,” you got up, snatching his bag and looking through it yourself but finding no signs of a notepad. You shot him a dirty look. “You left it behind on purpose, didn’t you?”

“That thing?” Wooyoung pointed his finger outside, the veins on his neck and arms popping out in anger. “It contains everything I worked for. It’s the reason why I risked my life to come here, and you’re telling me that we left it behind because you were in a rush?”

“So it’s my fault now?” You scoffed in disbelief. “You could have mentioned you needed to get your little notepad when we were transporting you!”

“Well, I obviously did not want someone to see the contents of it!”

“Guys!” Jongho butted between you two, making you both sit down on the couch. “It’s okay. Wooyoung, just allow y/n to look into your head so she can copy everything that was on the notepad here for you. Simple! No biggie!”

“I won’t let her do that,” Wooyoung folded his arms. “That’s invading my privacy.”

“You’re invading our privacy by being here too,” you commented.

“Then throw me outside,” he simply said and you groaned loudly. Yeosang stifled a smile- he had never seen you so riled up and he made a mental note to thank the human later.

“Please, cooperate,” Yeosang requested gently. “She knows the importance of privacy and will do her best to not snoop around in your mind and only look through the contents of the notes. Right, Captain?”

You nodded. You opened your mouth to add that you couldn’t help it if the person you were reading unintentionally pushed a memory your way but Yeosang knowingly ignored you and continued. “Wooyoung, if we think the message you’ve been receiving is important, we might not deliver you to the station at all. You sound like an excellent navigator and… we kind of need that.”

“We don’t need that-”

“Oh, shut up,” Yeosang waved a hand and you pouted. “You can take your time thinking about it- we don’t have to do that now. But we will have no choice but to report you to the station if we can’t find some common ground.”

“Between death and joining you, there’s not much of a choice here, is there?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you almost felt sorry for the human. “Okay, go ahead. I’ll write what I remember from the notes, but you can help me fill the gaps.”

“Wonderful,” Yeosang clapped. “Let’s scatter now.”

—--------------------------

You had to admit, you felt a little sorry for reacting that way towards the human who, like he had said, really had no choice but to cooperate or face death.

Or perhaps, it was the Wooyoung being human and sneaky and making you feel guilty on purpose. You wouldn’t put past humans to do that- sure, you were the daughter of one and a friend of another, but you had seen your fair share of humans hiding behind the excuse of their ugly nature.

However, your guilt solidified when you found the man diligently scribbling in a new notebook with a jug of coffee by his side. You shook your head at the sight- what was with humans and their addiction to caffeine? But you supposed you couldn’t complain- whatever kept the human running and made your job easier.

You sensed Wooyoung’s body getting tense when he sensed your presence and you knocked on the door right at that time, pretending you hadn’t been standing there for a solid few minutes. He nodded and you entered, sitting down next to him.

“What are you writing?”

“Anything about navigation that I can recall from the top of my head,” he showed you the notes and you made an impressed face.

“Are humans on Earth that advanced in space navigation already?”

“As of recently, yes, but not many, and they usually keep it to themselves,” Wooyoung told you. “They’re afraid the government and the space councils will exploit their services.”

“Sounds like our government,” you scoffed.

“I guess we do have something in common then,” he grinned. “I was one of the few who kept my research to myself, but I also made the mistake of snooping around and finding things I shouldn’t have learned.”

“You said something about the group of humans who got lost in space,” you asked, shifting on the couch so you were facing him. “Do you remember their names?”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes slightly. “Those humans settled on Star 1116. Jongho’s one of them, right? A descendant of them?”

You nodded and he wowed at that, taking a few moments to let that information sink in. “And what about you?”

“I’m one of them too,” you admitted. No harm in him knowing. “My mother is a Nexi, though. My father was the grandson of one of the humans who got lost- but why do you believe they didn’t get lost?”

“I heard the superiors talking about how their spy network failed to achieve results,” he sighed and you felt your heart sink. “The plan was to pretend to get lost and settle on one of the planets in the Temporal Nexus so they would keep reporting back to Earth with their findings.”

“Did they?” You asked, unconsciously holding your breath.

“I guess they felt welcomed enough that they stopped very soon, and my people never looked for them in fear that their secrets had been exposed. The Temporal Nexus Accords happened right after so the humans on Earth had to pretend they had no knowledge of those humans in space and thought they died.”

You fell silent, staring at the rings on Wooyoung’s fingers while you processed that.

Your great grandfather and great grandmother were spies. If anyone were to find that out now…

“They must have lived well,” Wooyoung said gently with a smile. “I won’t tell anyone, if you’re worried about that. I’d say Jongho, at least, deserves to know the truth though.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll tell Jongho soon. They lived well, but after they had kids and our grandparents were old enough to have their own, the Nexi started discriminating. It got a little messier afterwards, but we’re still here. Just… kind of outcasted.”

“The Nexi are just like humans then. It’s such a human thing to discriminate among races, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame them,” you scoffed. “They will have a field day if they learn that they were right about humans all along.”

“But who’s gonna tell them?” Wooyoung pretended to zip his mouth. You smiled at that and he smiled back. “Did you come to read… me?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you said and he resigned into the couch. “It won’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I’m worrying about, but okay,” he urged you to start and you raised your palms in the air, letting the neuron extensions protrude from your fingernails. Wooyoung watched in awe as the silver steel-like branches curled around each other in an intricate pattern.

“I’ll touch your forehead and close my eyes when I read,” you felt the need to tell him. “I will try not to look into your private memories but I can’t control what you send me, and unless you have a good mental fortitude I will only see what you show me.”

“Interesting,” he said, gulping when you scooted forward. You locked eyes with him, finding it almost endearing how his mismatched yet beautiful eyes widened when you gently placed your palms on his temples, letting the neurons extend and entangle with his hair to stick on his scalp.

“Ah… that tickles a bit,” Wooyoung muttered and you stifled a smile. “Do I close my eyes too?”

“You don’t have to,” you answered and shut yours. “Think of your notepad, now. I’ll have a general look before I start noting down.”

“Got it,” he said, shutting his eyes to focus.

You saw the notepad, as clear as day, and the last place he recalled using it was the control room in his spaceship. You relaxed when you realised he had indeed been telling the truth. You then saw the navigational reading and glimpses of incomprehensible messages- incomprehensible to him.

You were about to draw back but you saw a montage of his memories in the spaceship- you felt the loneliness that he had felt being alone in space for so long- a few months and no human or alien contact. You felt a bit of dread as he wondered if he made a wrong decision leaving the Earth in the manner that he did- stealing information and sneaking past them. You felt his will to live fluctuate when it started to feel like he was on a wild goose chase.

And then you felt just the briefest moment of acceptance when he noted down how long he had to live with the amount of food he had left on the spaceship. He was mostly relying on supplements but he wasn’t sure how long that would keep him healthy.

Before you could draw back, he pushed one memory in focus- the reason he cooked for all of you tonight. He was grateful to be alive and he needed the food more than you- more for the joy of cooking for himself and for others, for the act of simply eating with company, no matter who it was.

When you opened your eyes, you found that you were just as breathless as him. You didn’t know if he had intentionally pushed that memory into focus but it was enough.

“Well,” you retracted one hand away, keeping the other at its original position. “Might be a little uncomfortable but we should start writing now. You can help me fill in what I don’t understand, is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he adjusted himself so the notebook was between you two on the couch now. You rested your elbow against the cushion so it wouldn’t hurt. “Shall we begin?”

It took you about an hour of filling in the gaps but thankfully, Wooyoung had done most of the work. The navigation section was finished soon and then you moved to the messages he received from the radio which you realised were in one of the Nexi codes. It required a series of messages to be arranged in a specific numerical pattern to decode it. Thankfully, Jongho had the right device for it so you intended to let him handle that department.

While writing the notes, you learned about his time at the space centre on Earth. Wooyoung seemed to be a talkative person and you listened to his story about how he and a few other astronauts and space scientists always disagreed with the government which ultimately controlled their operations. Apparently, the humans were always on the lookout for a number of things- a planet like Earth, for starters. The secret to stop ageing or extend the age cycle.

“Why would they want to extend their miserable lives?” You grimaced when you heard that.

“Sometimes, the little things are enough to want to live a little longer, I suppose,” Wooyoung mused, taking the pen from you and finishing a string of messages for you before handing it back. “There’s a race of you that has an unusual cycle, isn’t that so?”

“The Original Nexi,” you told him. “A few descendants of them still live though they are scattered and stay low. They don’t age like we do- after a certain age, I suppose around sixty, they start ageing backwards. They get to be young again but the fun ends there. They’re back to being babies and then one day, they turn into stardust and scatter in the atmosphere.”

“How poetic,” Wooyoung scratched his chin. “I suppose it has its pros and cons.”

“More cons,” you commented. “No one wants to take care of you by the time you become a baby for the second time.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s a sight,” he snickered, asking you to skip an irrelevant section and you started on the last page. “Look at that. We’re almost done.”

“Thank you for cooperating,” you meant it. “Your navigational skills… they’re quite impressive. I might just have a place for you on this ship. Depends on your behaviour though.”

“You are on your worst behaviour, I want it just like that~” Wooyoung started singing and you smiled- his voice really was pretty.

“You seem to like that song.”

Silence filled the room and you finished writing the last sentence, shutting the notebook and turning to him, finding him surprised.

“How did you know?”

Oh. You had made a mistake.

“What did you see?” Wooyoung asked again, and this time, involuntarily you saw more memories and you shut your eyes because of the intensity of those memories-

Wooyoung’s voice. He was singing the song in a small room with the lyrics on the screen, loud background music blasting in that space along with the sound of uproarious laughter, the bass of the music in synchronisation with his heartbeat. Bright, colourful kaleidoscopes of lights danced with their bodies, swaying around one another. You felt joy, in its pure and raw form, and then-

You were transported to another memory associated with that song- back in the spaceship as he sang it alone, his voice the only thing echoing off the walls with only the dim white light to accompany him. There was no joy anymore- just yearning for something that was not and might never be.

“Get out of my head, y/n,” Wooyoung gently wrapped his hand around your hand that was still placed on his temple. You opened your eyes in surprise at the contact, blinking a few times to let your vision adjust. His words finally registered inside you and you looked into his eyes.

He wasn’t angry. He simply looked tired and perhaps, he knew exactly what memories you had seen. You retracted the neurons from his scalp and now that it was just your fingers tangled in his hair, you unconsciously caressed the soft strands. He moved your hand away softly, placing it in your lap and looking at the joined hands for just a moment before he pulled away.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” he nodded in understanding. “It’s okay.”

You nodded, realising you were still leaning into him. Taking a deep breath, you picked the notebook and got up.

“The notes will be with Jongho- he can decode the message,” you told him. “You can rest now.”

“Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung looked at you expectantly. You raised a brow and he took that as a sign to continue. “Do you only read the memories or are you able to feel the emotions or feelings associated with the memory too?”

Your silence was enough for him. He nodded in understanding, having gotten his answer.

As you made your way back to your room, you wished you could have told him that this was the first time you felt human emotions in such depth, in such an unfiltered and almost vulnerable way. Such innocent, humane feelings that almost made you forget that alien blood ran through your veins.

—---------------------------

While none of you had officially announced Wooyoung’s position as a navigator in the crew, he seemed to take on that role naturally. He made home in the control room with Jongho and they learned a lot from each other- Jongho about navigation and what it was like to be a human on Earth, and Wooyoung about the Temporal Nexus Galaxy and what it was like to be a human among the Nexi.

However, the more interesting part was how he managed to make Yeosang warm up to him. Yeosang wasn’t one to talk a lot and none of you in the crew were very physically affectionate, yet it seemed like Wooyoung had claimed the man as his target. He was always clinging to him- holding his hand, clutching his arms as he rubbed his cheek against him, casual pats and ruffling of hair (of which Jongho was also a target), hugs of all and every kind, and smooches. What was funnier was how Yeosang claimed to dislike all of that yet you would find him smiling to himself afterwards.

Whatever it was, Wooyoung had a magnetic personality and everyone’s eyes followed him, as did yours. You were often in your designated corner with your journals and equipment, making calls to the station to send daily reports, sending messages to anyone who would want to hear your theory about Star 1117 and possibly help you in any way while not reporting you to the authorities. It was hard to be in the same room as Wooyoung and not look at him and lean towards him, you were finding.

It wasn’t that he didn’t try to be as physically affectionate with you as the rest, or not include you in whatever stupid debate they decided to have for the sake of passing time- he was simply hesitant to touch you because he wasn’t sure if you could read him without your neuron extensions- or ‘murder mitten’, as he referred to them. Kitty claws was not the only term thrown around now.

Jongho’s device had successfully decoded the message but you were all waiting for the next signal as there were still missing parts. The radio was kept in the middle of the room so anyone could hear it if it woke up. Meanwhile, you shared your knowledge about Star 1117, the planet that could not be found.

In the Temporal Nexus Galaxy, there were exactly 1117 stars or planets in the beginning, as marked by the Original Nexi, the first aliens born out of the celestial matter when the galaxy came into being. While the 1117th planet was never located, it was historically and scientifically accurate information that your galaxy had 1117 cycles. Each complete orbit of the planets around the core marked by the presence of a single sun- almost like the sun in the solar system- caused one planet to disintegrate into celestial matter.

Wooyoung shared his knowledge of your galaxy and you found out that the humans were also aware that the only remaining planets in your galaxy were Star 1116, which was your home, and Star 1117. Star 1117 existed but it could not be located no matter how much the authorities and everyone else tried- there was too much clutter in the galaxy, they claimed.

All the planets that finished their cycle disintegrated into rocks and stars. Some of the rocks the aliens made habitable when there weren’t enough planets to accommodate them, while some aliens resorted to pods and spaceships as their home. The further you went to explore in the Temporal Nexus, the harder it got to navigate and find your way back which was why a lot of the explorers who tried to locate Star 1117 or its byproduct (in case they were wrong about Star 1117 still being whole) never returned.

You were just discussing the myths surrounding the star while you ate lunch- Wooyoung was also the designated chef now, and you had to admit that part of the reason you were okay with his presence in the spaceship was because of the food he made for you all and not just because you had delayed your decision until you could properly decode the message.

“I personally think Star 1117 was the first planet to die and our home is actually Star 1 instead of 1116 and they’re all wrong about the number of cycles that has passed. It’s a reverse order,” Yeosang said. “This, or there’s no Star 1117 in the first place.”

“Yeah, the Space Council could have easily modified the data,” Jongho nodded.

“But I read them,” you said, referring to the council members that you had secretly read. “They don’t think that’s true.”

“Maybe they’re made to think that that’s the truth,” Yeosang pointed out and you shrugged.

“Maybe Star 1117 isn’t a planet like your other planets in this galaxy,” Wooyoung added casually while munching on a potato stick. “Maybe it’s just an ugly old rock and you all think that it has to be a planet like Star 1116.”

“Well, I hope the authorities are looking into that possibility because the current cycle is ending soon. That means there won’t be a habitable planet for humans,” you said, looking at Jongho- while you were part alien, you functioned more like a human and couldn’t just travel in space without a certain amount of oxygen, just like Jongho. “And that also means that we will lose our home.”

Yeosang passed a tight-lipped smile at that- you all had family who lived in Star 1116 and refused to leave even though they were aware that this planet would soon disintegrate. They wanted to live there until the last possible moment before making a decision- die with the planet or move to a space pod. They were too old to do anything to save their home so you were using this opportunity to try to save it for them, along with your crew. While the government did not allow such missions for the common people, you were carrying it out secretly. You would be labelled criminals if you interfered with their mission.

“That’s a shame. I’ve heard Star 1116 is a very beautiful planet,” Wooyoung said and you all nodded- it really was the most beautiful planet to ever exist in that galaxy. “What do you plan to do about it?”

“Honestly, we have no idea, we’re just trying to find more information on when the cycle will end so we have a clue about how much time we have instead of waiting for the government to announce that we have numbered days,” Jongho said.

He was about to continue when you heard static and you almost thought it was one of your own radios until Wooyoung got up and brought his radio back to the table, the four of you huddling closer to watch the messages appear.

“Pass me a pen,” you asked Yeosang who obeyed and you gave it to Wooyoung who had already opened the notebook to write down the message. It was mumbo jumbo to the three of you but all the colour seemed to leave Jongho’s face when Wooyoung finished writing the message.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked, patting his cheek to make him come back to his senses.

“Uh, let me confirm the message,” he mumbled weakly and you rushed to get his decoding device. He thanked you and started to insert the message in the device while already knowing the final version since he had played with this device enough to not need it anymore. When he typed the decoded message, he looked at all three of you before setting it in the middle of the table.

“‘I am 1118,’” Wooyoung read the message, frowning. “‘Do not save 1117.’”

Silence filled the room as the message hung in the air over your heads, your hands getting clammier with each passing second. You looked at Yeosang who looked just as lost and then at Wooyoung who was checking his readings again as if making sure that he hadn’t made a mistake.

“There is no Star 1118,” you said what everyone was thinking out loud. “Isn’t that right? Wooyoung?”

“I’ve never heard of Star 1118,” he admitted in all seriousness. “Star 1117 has always been the focus of attention, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “But someone from Star 1118 is sending you a message and telling you not to save Star 1117? Is that what it is?”

“There can’t be a Star 1118,” Yeosang frowned. “We can’t even locate 1117. I think if there were two missing planets, we would have found at least one, right?”

“Unless the government is hiding something?” Wooyoung suggested. “Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Yeah, he might be right,” Jongho agreed with Wooyoung. “But I think we should start with locating where this message came from. That would certainly make things easier.”

“I suggest an infiltration of your space council to find information because it looks like you’ve had no luck so far,” Wooyoung raised his hand while looking at you, asking if everyone was in.

“That’s too risky-”

“But you can read the aliens, right?” Wooyoung interrupted and you folded your arms. “You can read objects. You can read their data- all we have to do is sneak past them,” he said, folding his sleeves with a smug face. “And I happen to be a pro at that, as you already know.”

A jab, but also an attempt to smoothen the rocky beginning of your relationship. You scoffed in answer, knowing all too well what he was talking about from the bits you had seen from his journal. “We’ll be labelled space criminals. They would do anything to find us and have us tried in court.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re all space criminals anyway,” he shrugged. “You’ll only be living up to that title. Besides, don’t you want to save your home?”

“You will help us save our home?”

“If I can be of help,” he nodded. “I came here to find Star 1117 too. We have the same goal, right? Find Star 1117 and save your galaxy. You get to save your home, and I get to rub this in my government's face and… clear the name of my friends who got caught in this mess without me.”

“Didn’t catch that sob story when I read you,” you told him and Yeosang snorted, resulting in all of you sharing a laugh, the room echoing with nervousness, anticipation and excitement-

And hope. You met Wooyoung’s eyes and he nodded earnestly, his smile making your heart feel warm, a feeling you had forgotten.

You smiled back this time.

—--------------------------

“Wooyoung, I swear to the all one thousand, one hundred and seventeen stars, if you don’t move your knee right now-”

“I’m trying,” he hissed, smacking your back and you let out a horrified gasp at his audacity. “I can’t move it- bear with it.”

“It’s digging into my calf and it hurts,” you sighed.

“Whose genius idea was it to sneak through the vents again?” Wooyoung asked and that shut you up.

It took you all just about two days to form an elaborate plan that would involve Yeosang getting access inside the Space Council building to present the monthly report physically with the excuse of meeting up with his cousin who worked there. When he called his cousin, the poor guy was quite surprised since they weren’t on friendly- or any terms, per se. He did complain about the strictness of the Space Council and how visitors weren’t usually allowed, but since Yeosang’s parents were ex-employees of the Council, it helped his case and his request to visit was almost immediately approved.

That left Jongho in charge of camouflaging the spaceship and he contacted a few of his friends who happened to be mechanics and had some spare technology that they could share with him. They were sceptical about why the human needed camouflage- it definitely raised suspicion, but Jongho had always been good at shutting people up with money so the mechanics were more than happy to help him out, thanking him for helping their declining business.

You and Wooyoung, of course, had to be the ones to sneak in. You were hesitant to take the human with you- his vitals weren’t the problem since he was wearing the watch just like you which ensured your vitals remained normal. The problem was the risk of taking an unregistered human inside the very space that made sure all humans were registered in their data.

Plus, Wooyoung’s claim that he could ‘watch out’ while you read their data wasn’t very helpful- you weren’t sure if he would be able to get you out of a tight spot if you got caught. He claimed to be good with guns so you reluctantly loaded him with as many weapons as possible and when you were almost sure he wouldn’t be a liability, if not a help either, you agreed to let him accompany you.

He was good at sneaking in. He had studied Jongho’s inventory of machines and tools and taken anything he thought was useful. While Yeosang entered from the main door, the two of you turned on the camouflage on Jongho’s illegally obtained wristwatch and took access inside the building through the backdoor while another alien entered. Before you could be scanned, Wooyoung pointed at the vents and you squeezed yourself into the tight space, crawling on all fours with Jongho’s voice guiding your directions.

“Can you both fight later?” Jongho huffed. “Take a left and then jump down- you’ll land in a storage room. I can’t guarantee that it will be empty, so make sure your camouflage is working and you’re silent when you land.”

“Got it,” the two of you muttered in unison and you angrily tucked your hair back before leading the way again, having Wooyoung follow behind you. You paused before it was time to jump down, extending your neurons to read the room and after finding no signs of life for now, you landed softly with a thud, signalling Wooyoung to come down as well.

“That’s convenient,” Wooyoung pointed at your fingernails. “Can they act as a weapon?”

“Haven’t tried that yet but I suppose I’ll be forced to, soon,” you pointedly looked at him and he stuck his tongue out before Jongho asked you to find your way to the storage room that was across the hall. Wooyoung opened the door just a fraction and you pushed him with your elbow to take a peek.

“No one outside?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” you whispered.

“Well, that’s what your kitty claws are for. Go ahead,” he said and you sat down on the floor, extending the neurons once again and finding a few men who seemed to be on duty, stationed in front of the rooms that were on either side of this room. You got up and moved away to talk to Jongho.

“Is there no other way?”

“None,” Jongho sighed. “Should I ask Yeosang to do something about it?”

“No, I have a sacrificial lamb right here,” you smirked dangerously at Wooyoung, who pointed at himself with wide eyes and furiously shook his head.

Moments later, he was carrying a bunch of folders and going out of the storage room as if he belonged there. You watched from the crack in the door as he pretended to look at the room number and went just a few steps ahead before dropping everything to the floor.

“Curse the stars,” he huffed angrily. “I’m gonna be late and my boss will kill me.”

One of the guards came into your vision, looking at Wooyoung with narrowed eyes. “Who’s your boss again?”

“Just the angriest one here- no need for names, am I right?” He shook his head and the guard seemed to buy that for the moment. “Asked to get some files,” Wooyoung started gathering them and the guard bent down to help. Wooyoung looked back, meeting eyes with you for just a second before looking at the second guard. “Would you help? I need to grab another bundle from the storage.”

The second guard hesitantly joined the first, grunting as he bent down. Your heart seemed to be beating between your ears as Wooyoung came back inside the room.

“What do you say I knock them out?”

“Just keep yapping- I’ll make it,” you told him and he signed okay, grabbing another box of files and going back outside. You heard the three talk among themselves and you mustered all the courage before making a dash across the hall, turning the knob-

To find it locked. It would need an identification card to open it, and you didn’t have enough time for Jongho to do his thing. Panicking, you looked at Wooyoung who visibly swallowed and you made a neck-slicing motion.

“Now who’s that?” The second guard spotted you and that was all Wooyoung needed to take out his gun from the jacket and smack the guard’s head with the butt of the gun. The other guard punched him in the stomach with such force that Wooyoung doubled up as he let out a weak exhale-

And before you knew it, the neurons were extending from your fingernails and slashing at the guards while forming a protective barrier around Wooyoung at the same time. Wooyoung yelled an ‘I’m okay!’ which finally made you stop- not after having inflicted enough cuts on the guards to make them clutch at themselves in pain.

Wooyoung looked at you, half-impressed and half-horrified. You decided to make sense of it later and said, “We should probably… shut them in the storage.”

“Yeah… why don’t you use your murder mittens for that too?”

You scowled at him but did exactly that and Wooyoung smacked them hard enough to knock them unconscious though you were pretty sure it was petty revenge. He dusted his hands and looked proudly at you afterwards, catching you stifling a grin. He raised a brow and you finally let out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“If you have both had your fun,” Jongho’s voice interrupted though he sounded amused- while he couldn’t see what was happening, the audio was enough. “Yeosang’s almost done and you’re still doing god knows what.”

“Sorry, Wooyoung’s having too much fun,” you put the blame on the human and moved along, ignoring the earfull that Jongho started to give Wooyoung. You used the identification card of one of the guards to open the door, finding yourself in the recent archives section of the control room- you didn’t need to tap into the alien parts to hear the chatter from the main room that leaked into this one.

“I’ll keep watch, you can start,” Wooyoung said and you nodded, wasting no time and shutting your eyes, letting the neurons branch out and touch everything in your surroundings- the shelf where hundreds of files were stacked, the numerous hard disks along with paper notes, the walls that contained memories of the people who had touched it recently, the floor where the employees must have walked a million times-

And where Wooyoung stood, and you almost thought your eyes were open when you saw him watching you in awe while staying alert. Despite not wanting to read him without his consent anymore, you saw the brief flash of what was playing in his head right now-

The sight of you slashing at the guards to protect him.

You pushed that scene and the feelings associated with it aside and let the neurons store every bit of information that they could until you started losing your breath and feeling faint- a sign that you couldn’t take it anymore. You thought you heard Wooyoung call your name before you retracted the neurons and rested your back against the wall, catching your breath.

“Too much?” He asked and you nodded, wiping your forehead.

“We’re done, Jongho,” you said and he hummed in response, letting Yeosang know so he could leave as well.

“Good job everyone,” Jongho said as you all started to make your way back out. “I’ll serve you all drinks tonight. And maybe sing for you.”

—--------------------------

If you thought Jongho was a good singer, he certainly had competition now.

Sure, Jongho could move stars with his voice. You always joked that perhaps Jongho was an alien and his voice was his alien characteristic because there was no way a human could sound so powerful and mesmerising.

But perhaps, it was a human thing to sound so captivating, to sing like you intended to break the heart of the listeners and heal it again, to have your voice flow like the honey aliens only heard stories of- something they could describe and perhaps create association with yet only dream of having. Perhaps, it was a human thing to possess a voice that could make you feel like you were floating among the stars as one.

Or maybe… it was just Wooyoung.

And just you, feeling all of that and more.

You tried reasoning with yourself- you had been hearing Jongho sing since he could speak so it probably didn’t sound so special to you anymore because you were used to it. If you could experience his singing for the first time again, you were sure you would be as blown away as the other person- as Wooyoung was.

But when Wooyoung sang in a voice so soft and mellow, you could feel your heart melt and you felt the sudden urge to sit out on the deck of the spaceship, in the hollow silence of the space and watch the stars.

“No way he’s the same person who sounds like an animal when he talks, right?”

You exhaled in relief when Yeosang said that but you were sure his drunken heart wasn’t as moved as yours was.

And it didn’t help when Wooyoung locked eyes with you as he sang about the human emotions of longing, sadness, happiness and love. Of sorrow and bitterness, of peace and hope.

You had been fine for the most part of the night- after returning to the spaceship, the boys started to prepare a meal while you passed out on the couch, surprising Wooyoung who was told that you were just taking a power nap to recover your energy. They woke you up when the table was set and while you ate, you told them that you were still processing the information you had absorbed and nothing you could process so far was relevant. While Yeosang told you all about his ‘adventures’ and how wonderful an actor he is, the room filled with overlapping chatter and laughter with the tinkling sound of your glasses as you drank.

And now that the humans had been singing for a while, you silently excused yourself with a smile on your face that had been plastered on your face since you woke up. You exited the spaceship and laid down on the deck to watch the endless expanse of the universe. With your hands resting on top of your beating heart, you let your chest rise and fall in synchrony with the glimmering of the stars around you.

You could hear your own breaths but Wooyoung’s voice still seemed to be ringing in your head and you found yourself smiling again. You recalled when your grandfather had told you stories of his father and his time on Earth- how humans used to sing at gatherings around fire while they ate candies or drank warm beverages. You had never experienced that but you always thought they might have looked strange doing that, until tonight when Jongho and Wooyoung started singing and Yeosang started clapping along- perhaps, this was what it was like to be truly human. To enjoy the little moments in life and make the most of them.

“Now that’s one way to stargaze.”

You almost jumped, letting out a startled sigh and Wooyoung grinned at that. “Can I join you?”

“Uh, sure,” you patted the space next to you and he settled down, watching you for a moment before he assumed a similar lying position next to you.

“It’s beautiful,” Wooyoung sighed dreamily. “The stars.”

“Sometimes I wonder which of these stars were planets where we lived,” you said. “I think a lot of people here must look and wonder which one of them is their home.”

“It’s a shame how the cycles here work, but isn’t it somewhat relieving to know that the place that was once your home is now all around you? In the form of celestial matter.”

You turned your face sideways to look at him. “Is it though? To know that you have no home anymore?”

“But home is where the heart is,” he smiled, looking at you.

“Do humans still use that phrase on Earth?”

“We’ve always been using it,” he said. “Where did you hear it?”

“From my great grandfather.”

“He’s still alive?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I have his journals. He missed planet Earth a lot but he said that home is where the heart is and his heart was here with his family. It never made sense to me, though.”

Wooyoung shifted his body to lay down sideways so he could look at you as you talked. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Home is a place, not an emotion or a feeling. My home is under the shade of the tree near my house where I grew up.”

“That’s where your heart is,” he told you.

“No, my heart is here,” you patted your chest. “It’s pumping blood.”

“My dear y/n,” he pinched your nose and if you had been sober, you would have smacked him. “Heart is an organ, yes, but it’s also a feeling. You leave a piece of your heart everywhere- back home, with your friends, with the people you lose. It is what makes you a whole person.”

“Still does not make sense to me,” you pouted.

“It will, one day,” he assured you, a knowing look on his face.

“What was your home like?” You asked after a few moments passed.

Wooyoung took a deep breath, folding his arms, his hair beginning to fall sideways slowly. You turned to face him too, unable to resist the urge to tuck them back. He didn’t comment on it, knowing it would remind you of the distance you were always consciously creating. “My home was near the sea- you have it here too, don’t you?”

“Something like that,” you told him, recalling the human sea you had seen flashes of from your great grandfather’s journal.

“My home was the place where I spent my whole life, where my parents were,” he said and you noted how there was something sad about the way he smiled. “My home is with the friends I left behind, and even though my workplace started resembling a prison… that place is also my home.”

“Was it hard to leave home, knowing you might never go back?”

“Well, I didn’t think too much about it, I trust my navigational skills,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “But yeah. It started feeling like a mistake until I met you guys.”

You nodded- you knew all too well what he was talking about, having felt his loneliness firsthand. “Don’t you want to see your home again?”

“Maybe I’ll go back, but… I think I have a home here with you guys too,” he said cautiously and your brows furrowed as you tried to unravel its meanings. “Don’t you feel like you have a home here too? With the boys?”

You fell silent, pondering over that. “Will you show me your home, Wooyoung?”

“How- oh, with your kitty claws?”

“I call them neurons, but yes,” you locked eyes with him. “I’ve always wanted to see what Earth looked like from my great grandfather’s mind. His journal doesn’t really give much.”

“What do you want to see?”

“Everything special about planet Earth, and… cats.”

“Cats?” Wooyoung frowned. “I thought you had them here? Yeosang called your neurons kitty claws?”

“It’s just a phrase we adopted from the description of cats and feline creatures we have in his journals,” you told him and he clapped, saying a long ‘ah’ in realisation.

“What about dogs?”

“We have something like that here, but I’d like to see that too,” you smiled.

“Okay, there’s so much to see- do you want to see now?” Wooyoung asked and you shook your head.

“I’m still processing the information I got from the Space Council. Maybe some other day.”

“Sure, whenever,” Wooyoung said and you watched him for a few moments, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“Did I scare you earlier?” You finally asked the question that had been weighing on your mind since you came back. “When I attacked the guards?”

Wooyoung stifled a smile. “I think I was more surprised that you went all murder-mode to protect me rather than being scared,” he confessed, “but I won’t lie. It was a little scary.”

You bit your lips, feeling something like guilt wrapping around your heart. Wooyoung inched his hand closer, looking at you for permission before holding your hand and caressing it.

“You don’t scare me,” he admitted, “I don’t care if you are capable of slitting throats with your nails or neurons or whatever they are. I saw how frightened you looked when the guards attacked me. I can’t get that out of my head.”

Now that was new. “Why can’t you get it out of your head?”

“You and your questions,” Wooyoung laughed, bringing your hand closer to inspect. “Hey, your hands look pretty normal. Like human hands. Where do the neurons even come from?”

You showed him by protracting them just a fraction and he wowed, taking both your hands and examining the skin around your nails when they retracted. “Pretty seamless, huh? Can you produce them out of your feet too?”

“Yeah, Yeosang had a wonderful time having me try that,” you laughed at the memory. “I can, but I don’t for obvious reasons.”

“You would look like a frog if you did,” Wooyoung told you.

“What’s a frog?”

“I’ll show you when it’s time, but… I’m scared you won’t like it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and when he started describing a frog, he finally earned the long due smack, your laughter ringing in the space while Jongho and Yeosang watched from the window.

“Didn’t realise she could laugh like that,” Jongho wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“She laughs with us too,” Yeosang said.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand,” Jongho waved a hand in dismissal. “Her laugh sounds different.”

“Really?” Yeosang looked at Jongho. “Sounds the same to me.”

“It’s a human thing,” Jongho smiled and Yeosang shook his head at that, knowing all too well what he was talking about.

—---------------------------

“We have a big fucking problem, guys.”

All three heads turned dramatically in succession and you looked away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Did you finish processing already?” Jongho asked and you nodded, slumping down on the couch next to Yeosang who had been pretending to take a nap. The younger two, who had been playing some board game that Wooyoung had been teaching the boys, rolled their chairs in front of you and you nervously fiddled with the sleeves of your black shirt.

“Yeah, I sped things up and… do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

The boys exchanged glances and everyone agreed on the good news first. You took a deep breath, “The Space Council has identified all of us and are sending out ‘wanted’ posters. They know we stole information and they’ve put a bounty on us.”

“That’s the good news?” Yeosang looked just about as horrified as the rest of them. You let out a short laugh.

“Congrats on officially being labelled space criminals now, I guess?” You offered and Jongho groaned loudly, muttering something about how his parents were going to kill him, bounty or not. “Now, the bad news?”

“Go ahead,” Jongho muttered, folding his arms in bitter resignation.

“Well, I don’t know how bad it is but they have secrets that they’ve hidden so well that even I couldn’t read them,” you started and Yeosang whistled at that. “I kept hitting a dead end whenever I came across something related to Star 1117, and there’s absolutely no way of locating the planet- not that they know of, or if they do know, they’re hiding it a bit too well.”

“So was our attempt futile after all?” Wooyoung asked.

“Not really- it means that they do know a lot about Star 1117- at least the higher-ups. They’re just hiding it from everyone else.”

“Why are they keeping it to themselves? Do they want to keep Star 1117 all for themselves when the time comes?” Jongho questioned. “Do they not want the rest of us finding out?”

“Or maybe they don’t really know a lot and are just as clueless as us,” Yeosang offered. “Did you find something about how to locate it?”

“I think radio waves are our best option, so Wooyoung’s radio will have to do. I have something that can help with that, so let’s just track whoever is sending us that message and get answers from them?” You suggested.

“Sounds like a plan. We’re already working on using the radio as a navigational device so let us know what needs to be done next,” Yeosang agreed.

“Sure. There’s also something strange I came across,” you added, “but I don’t know if it’s of any value.”

“Let’s hear it anyway,” Jongho leaned forward in anticipation.

“You know the stories about the first aliens in this galaxy? The Original Nexi who are supposedly the first aliens in this galaxy?”

“Yeah, that bloodline still exists, right?” Jongho asked, having recalled hearing rumours about them. “The Original Nexi who are born, grow up until a certain age and then start ageing backwards until they die?”

“The humans would love to hear their secrets by the way,” Wooyoung looked both ashamed and proud of his people at that moment.

“Yeah, so,” you continued. “I think the first aliens are from Star 1117- that’s what I read in one of the files. That must mean the planet exists. If we can find one of the Original Nexi descendants who are alive today, we might be able to get some information about Star 1117. Maybe some of them even live there and we just haven’t been able to find them. Maybe that is why they’re trying so hard to hide the planet.”

“Woah,” Jongho exhaled deeply. “Now that’s news.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, a sombre silence taking over while all of you collected your thoughts. You decided to break the silence and give them a heads-up. “Since we’ll be wanted criminals now, let’s cut all contact with the station and destroy any tracking devices on this spaceship. Jongho, I trust you can take care of that?”

Jongho nodded and you continued. “Yeosang, please make sure our families are safe when they go to investigate- make sure they know that it might get messy so they can defend themselves if need be, okay?”

“I’ll let our friends know too- especially people we’ve been in contact with recently,” he said in a grim voice and you agreed, the realisation that you would all be in danger soon washing over you with a crash and you involuntarily shivered. Yeosang patted your back. You glanced at Wooyoung who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Wooyoung assured you and you nodded in answer. “Let’s speed up our radio navigation first.”

You agreed and got up, moving towards the control panel with Jongho, and Wooyoung looked at Yeosang, wiggling his brows.

“I guess my role is still chef?”

Yeosang chuckled. “You can keep doing whatever you’ve been doing. Kind of like an anchor, don’t you think?”

Wooyoung was pretty pleased to hear that, immediately cheering up at Yeosang’s acknowledgement of his role as an ‘anchor’ when he had previously been referred to things like ‘maid’, ‘comic relief’ and worse. He disappeared into the kitchen knowing he didn’t have a lot of time before he would be called to help with the navigation.

And it was about an hour later that the smell of meat prompted everyone to drop what they were doing and join Wooyoung at the table. The meal was mostly silent, all of you feeling spent now that there was a threat hanging over your heads. Wooyoung could feel the palpable stress in the air but let you all have a moment to yourselves. After clearing the table, he was called to help with the navigation and he worked in harmony with Jongho and you, the hours passing by in a blink and sleep forgotten until-

“A signal!” Wooyoung shouted, making you and Yeosang get up with surprised grunts from your half-asleep state while Jongho high-fived him.

“And, it’s gone- but it was there,” Jongho quickly input the readings into the radar and got a location. “Just a few tem-nex units away, should take us a few days.”

“Brilliant,” you felt hopeful all of a sudden, laughing in relief as you looked at Wooyoung in gratitude. He smiled in return, hand on his chest as he nodded. Yeosang clapped dramatically when Jongho started to yawn, making the two giggle and you got up, looking at the time.

“I think we should set our route and get some sleep, all of us. It was a long day,” you said and everyone agreed, Jongho immediately taking his place on the couch, pushing Yeosang away with little kicks.

“Go to your own room and get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll sleep here in case something fishy happens.”

“Alright, geez,” Yeosang rubbed his thighs, the youngest smiling as he swaddled the blanket. Yeosang saluted you and Wooyoung mockingly before going to his room.

“Want a drink, Captain?” Wooyoung offered and you gave him the side-eye.

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep?”

“The adrenaline will take some time to wear off,” he explained and you shrugged. “I’d really like to take the drinks outside this time, and I could do with some company, unless you’re too tired?”

You decided to join- you could do with a drink and some company too, you reckoned. It had been a stressful few hours and your nap hadn’t helped at all- you kept thinking about whether you had been too reckless and doomed your friends and family by infiltrating the council and stealing top secret information. Sure, it could be justified- the government was all but dooming the people with the way they were handling things. If this really was the 1116th cycle, they had done little to nothing to prevent an apocalypse and the people were still in the dark about the ensuing damage which could be anywhere from just Star 1116’s collapse to the whole Temporal Nexus galaxy swallowing itself.

And you had never felt so worthless. You were merely a speck of dust in this vast galaxy and everything that you were doing to save it looked like it was all in vain.

“Cheer up, eh?” Wooyoung said as he clinked his bottle with yours. “It will be okay. We’ll be fine.”

You had to admit, you were rather impressed by his ability to read the room or the emotions of someone. He did it better than you could with your neurons and that was saying something.

“I just feel like I’m going in circles. It’s not the first time we’ve received a signal that indicated that we might be close to Star 1117, but it’s the first time I’ve felt hope. I don’t know what I will do if it turns out to be nothing.”

Wooyoung hummed in thought. “If it turns out to be nothing, you’ll try again, just like you have for so long now. You won’t give up.”

“I know I won’t give up,” you nodded. “I want to do anything to make sure Star 1116 stays like it is, even if… even if I can’t ever go live there again.”

And perhaps, it was that possibility that had been weighing you down all along- what if you were chasing after something you shouldn’t and risking your chance of ever going back home? What if your last memory of Star 1116 would be when you got drafted as space patrol?

You recalled that day- just another morning with you munching on some snacks while you worked at the office with Yeosang and Jongho. The three of you had always been a unit even in the Space Centre in Star 1116. Your unit was the one in charge of detecting foreign matter around your planet but you were always abusing your power- since you had access to a lot of devices and archives, you were conducting your own research about Star 1117 which almost everyone was aware of. It wasn’t something you did secretly anyway.

But even though you saw it coming, the notice that your unit was transferred to Space Patrol still made your heart sink. You went to the superiors to have them change it- Jongho and Yeosang shouldn’t be dragged into something that you insisted on doing, but the two were already there trying to do the same for you. The three of you laughed like fools afterwards as you processed what this meant-

That you were on to something and the Space Centre did not want you snooping around anymore. That was how you ended up harbouring spite for the Space Council and continuing your mission in secret. It had been a long and lonely journey for the three of you but at least you had each other. And with Wooyoung’s addition to the crew…

Things had definitely changed for the better.

“I can understand,” Wooyoung smiled wistfully. “I didn’t exactly leave Earth on good terms either. It was quite a similar situation as yours- I would have been imprisoned for trying to expose state secrets if I had stayed any longer, so I just decided to sneak away and collect evidence about their dealings with Star 1116 and their plans for Star 1117. I feel sorry for the people I left behind- they must be dealing with my mess.”

You recalled hearing about his friends earlier- he seemed to worry about them a lot. “Do you want to go back… once you collect your evidence?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Do you think I’ve been doing my job ever since I met you?”

“Well, I didn’t stop you from doing what you needed to do,” you muttered and he laughed.

“Look… there’s no way I’m going to go back to Earth and tell them that you exist. You’re the evidence I was trying to find, and… I’d rather keep you all to myself.”

“Jung Wooyoung,” you warned but he only took a few chugs of his beer in response. You crossed your legs, shifting to face him.

“I understand how much home means to a person, and I wouldn’t want to be someone who prevents you from going home and clearing the name of your friends. Please, I already feel guilty as it is…”

“Look, I came here to find out if the humans that got lost here were still communicating with my people back on Earth, right?” Wooyoung began. “Turns out those humans had morals after all, from what you told me. They never betrayed the aliens here and lived in harmony with the rest of the aliens here. They made a home here. Isn’t that beautiful?”

“And what about Star 1117?” You asked and Wooyoung’s lips tightened in a smile. “What have you been trying to find about Star 1117?”

“Well, you know why they sent your great grandfather and his group to the Temporal Nexus. Humans have always been in search of anything they can get their hands on; they're greedy like that. Be it slowing the ageing process or finding another planet that they can make their home. After all, Earth will collapse one day. In the solar system, they haven’t had much luck so they’ve always been secretly exploring other galaxies.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” You asked. “We’re the same. Our planet collapses and we go live on another.”

“But you take everyone with you, don’t you?” Wooyoung asked grimly and you frowned in confusion. “You do not leave your people to die, do you?”

You shook your head in denial and when he sighed, you had your answer.

“Are humans that selfish?”

Wooyoung stretched his arms, a melancholic smile plastered on his face. “Sometimes. Not all of them, I like to believe. It’s just the power that makes them lose their morals.”

“I guess it’s the same here then,” you shrugged. “The Space Council does not want us finding any information on Star 1117.”

“I have a feeling that they have a good reason for that. Let’s hope I’m right,” he settled the empty bottle on the deck. Yours was still half full and in your hands. You watched Wooyoung trace shapes on the surface of the deck, his dark hair falling down on his forehead.

“Will you show me your home?”

Wooyoung looked up at you in surprise. “Now?”

“I feel like this is the moment that I should read you,” you answered in all honesty and he looked a little confused but agreed anyway. You scooted closer and raised your hands in front of him. He awkwardly raised his own, intertwining them with yours before he realised-

“Oh, the forehead, right?” He was about to pull his hands away when you let the neurons extend and wrap around his hands, effectively binding them to yours and Wooyoung raised a brow in response, speechless for once. You stifled a smile and let the neurons wrap along the bulge of veins in his arms, the silver branches sneaking under his sleeves and taking shape along his collarbones before appearing on his neck.

When you felt Wooyoung stiffen just a fraction, you stopped, the neurons curling around his neck. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked with the silver branches on him, and it awoke a spark deep inside you. You almost felt breathless, as did he, before you asked him the one question that would make or break this moment.

“Did I scare you?”

Wooyoung looked at you for a few moments too long, watching your pupils contract and dilate in anticipation, silver like the extension of you around him. And he asked himself-

Was he scared of you? Did the idea of being so exposed to you make him want to cower away? Did he not like the way you had him trapped under you? Did he not appreciate that you were still asking for permission?

Weren’t you only human too? Figuring out these unfamiliar feelings just like he was?

Wooyoung decided to take a leap of faith in you and tightened his hold around your hands in answer- you had read him for a long time when he was first brought in your spaceship but that was a wholly different experience from this moment. This was so much more intimate with darkness enveloping the space, the stars twinkling like an endless glimmer around you, and the shift in your relationship now that you had warmed up to each other.

A different way than he had warmed up to the boys, he noticed.

“I’m not scared,” he caressed your hands in answer. “I told you before- you don’t scare me, y/n.”

You smiled in response and let the curled branches extend along his temples, wrapping around his head like a crown. You wished he could see himself in that moment, but you shut your eyes as he pushed his memories to you.

Earth.

So different from the Earth that you had seen in your great grandfather’s memories. There was more architecture- tall greyscale buildings that threatened to touch the sky. Where was the green grass? Why did the sky no longer seem as blue as it had in the Earth that you had seen?

Suddenly, you saw exactly that- a sky of fluffy clouds with rays of sun emerging through it and painting the lush fields of grass yellow. You saw the flowers that you always loved- the same roses and daisies from your memories. There was the sound of water in the distance- waves. It had to be waves. There was the sound of a woman calling Wooyoung’s name and you looked into the distance at the small cottage. Someone zoomed past you and you twirled around again, taking a scared step back as you saw a little ball of black fur-

A cat.

A startled laugh left your lips as the cat rubbed its soft body on your bare legs. You picked it up and kissed the top of its head before running towards the smell of food- Wooyoung’s food- no, his mother’s food. The person he learned to cook from, the taste that he carried in his hands.

The scene shifted yet again and this time, your legs were submerged in water and you looked around in confusion- why was the water falling from the sky? You craned your neck upwards to find that it was not the sky where the water was coming from but the top of a mountain, the stream crashing against deep brown rocks just like the one you sat on, a green carpet around it- moss, it was called. You had a stick in your hand and before you could figure out what to do with it, you felt two taps on your shoulders. You turned around to see a child who had a stick just like yours with a tiny creature lodged in it, threatening to fall on the ground. Scared, you cupped your hands and let the creature take refuge in your palm. You watched it carefully, the dark green bulge of its throat rising and falling in quick successions, and its tiny, webbed feet-

A frog.

You were laughing as the frog jumped out of your palm and landed on the rock near you, joining its own little gang of friends. You washed your hands with the cool water and splashed it on the children around you.

This was what it was like to be a kid on Earth.

You opened your eyes and saw Wooyoung smiling widely. He grinned before he asked, “Did you see it?”

“I did,” you pouted. “And I do not look like a frog, Wooyoung. Shame on you.”

Wooyoung laughed loudly, squeezing your hands subconsciously. “What else did you see?”

“Well, I saw a cat, thank you very much for that,” you smiled. “I could smell food- your mother cooked for you, right? It smells just like your food.”

“Really?” He seemed pleased to hear that.

“Exactly like that,” you confirmed. “And… I saw tall buildings. What was that?”

“That was the city where I lived before I came here, where I moved to after I grew up.”

“It looked… void of life,” you told him and he agreed. “Earth has changed.”

“We call it ‘modernised’,” he shrugged. “But yeah. Earth has changed, and so have its people.”

“Do you want to see my home someday?” You asked, beginning to retract your neurons and he shivered slightly. “It’s not much, but it’s definitely something like the Earth that my great grandfather left behind. And I wish I could show you like you showed me, but… you can see it in person.”

“You’d take me to Star 1116?” He asked in surprise.

“Yeah, well, don’t think I’m doing it for you,” You started and he scoffed. “It looks like we’ll have to go anyway- at least to warn the people if things don’t work out.”

“Well,” Wooyoung kept his hands intertwined with yours even after your neurons were fully retracted. “I’m not one to give false hope but let’s not give up and stay optimistic about this, okay?”

You nodded and looked at his hands that fit so well with yours, and you found yourself thinking how truly incredible it was to be this fascinated by such a simple thing as your hands in someone else’s. And that led you to think about how much you had changed since you met the human from Earth.

Wooyoung seemed to have noticed that you were deep in thought and he leaned down a bit to enter your vision, gently asking, “What are you thinking?”

You looked at his deep brown eyes that glinted with mischief and curiosity as he held your gaze. You let your eyes travel along the slope of his nose, pausing at his parted lips that were starting to curve into a smirk.

“I’m thinking you’re too close,” you muttered, pushing him back but he only pulled you closer which induced a startled gasp from you.

You sucked in your breath just as quickly when he caressed your knuckles with his thumb before planting a kiss on both your hands. He then proceeded to look at you, his gaze almost darkening.

“Too close?” He asked, almost as a challenge. You were too surprised to answer, an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling pooling in your stomach.

“Let go of my hands before I chop your hands into pieces,” you warned and he immediately let go, raising his hands in surrender and he would have thought that you were serious were it not for the laugh that you let out afterwards.

“And you said I don’t scare you?” You scoffed. “Try harder, Wooyoung.”

“Hey,” he scoffed back in utter disbelief. “You played dirty. I cherish my hands, okay? If you shred my hands into pieces I can’t do this-”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you close- a bit too close, so that your faces were mere centimetres apart. Your eyes widened in surprise and when his initial surprise wore off, he tilted his head a bit, his eyes scanning your face and looking for any signs of apprehension. Upon finding none, he proceeded to cup your face with his other hand.

“If you hurt my hands, I can’t hold you like this, can I?” He whispered.

“Wooyoung-” you began but he shook his head, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead and grinning cheekily afterwards, making you smile shyly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, letting go and scooting away this time. “Don’t go all kitty claws on me please-”

This time, you decided to show him just what Yeosang had meant when he called your hands kitty claws. If it was the planet Earth, or even Star 1116, his shrieks and laughter would have woken creatures from their deep slumber.

But since it was just your spaceship, it only made Jongho and Yeosang grunt in their sleep and his voice was lost to the stars.

—------------------------

“This is insanity,” you managed to say, your breaths quickening with every second as you monitored the radar, watching not one, not two, but three patrol spaceships enter the range of your spaceship, quickly covering the distance behind you.

“We’re running away, right?” Jongho asked but didn’t wait for the answer, pressing a button and activating the speed boost, though that did nothing to calm you. You climbed up to the dome to take a look at your surroundings, zooming through the glasses that all of you had on since you spotted a spaceship following you.

A number of things had happened in the last few days which led you to this point, so close to finding out the source of the signal Wooyoung had been receiving on his radio. Your names were circulated among all the residents of the Temporal Nexus with a significant bounty on your head, and even Wooyoung’s face was plastered on the ‘wanted’ posters. That prompted you all to cut contact with everyone including your family and acquaintances, though Yeosang had sent a warning to the families and assured them that you would be okay. However, the anxiety that came with the possibility that you all might not ever be able to go back home gnawed at all of you.

For now, there were more important matters. Jongho worked on camouflaging the spaceship as best as possible while the rest of you worked on tracing the signal to the most accurate location, finding yourself in unfamiliar territories. The Temporal Nexus was a vast galaxy and your spaceship was well-equipped so it allowed you to cover a great amount of distance in a short amount of time but there were some spaces in the galaxy that were considered ‘red zones’ or unsafe, to put it simply. These spaces were usually considered to be a hotspot for mysterious, unexplainable spatial activity and it was thought to be the points where a planet may have completed its orbit in time, resulting in a ‘tear’ in space. To the naked eye, it would seem like a mass of vividly coloured gases with little electrical sparks emerging from it. All the residents of the Temporal Nexus knew to avoid it-

But the residents of Temporal Nexus weren’t nosy like you were. And how could you ignore it when the signal was coming right from that point? It was only a matter of time before the Space Patrol around the red zones would detect your spaceship and be on your tail-

And here you were. Just a few hundred tem-nex units away from the red zone, from the source of your signal, the Space Patrol quickly catching up, the boys preparing to attack while you monitored the situation- it was just an excuse to take a breather and think where did it all start going so wrong. If you got arrested now, it would be the end.

“Captain?” Jongho called. “We’re closing up on the red zone. What do we do?”

“We can’t steer around it, can we?” You asked grimly, climbing down and going to look at the map that highlighted all the red zones in the galaxy- there were about eight red zones in your proximity alone and the only clear path was your way back which was now crowded with space patrols.

“Not really- I don’t think we can lose them,” Jongho took a deep breath.

“I say we keep going,” Wooyoung said. He had been monitoring the radio which started malfunctioning as soon as you entered the range of the red zone. “We’re getting signals from there- all the messages we got are from that mass,” he pointed at the blue cloud of gas not far from you now.

“It’s dangerous,” Yeosang shook his head. “There’s no telling what could happen once we enter that mass.”

“Only one way to find out,” Wooyoung’s lip curved in a smirk. “I have a feeling there’s a reason the space patrol is hell bent on catching us before we reach the red zone, and it’s not our safety.”

“Makes sense,” Jongho agreed. “There have been instances of people trying to get to one of the red zones but never have the space patrol been so active in trying to stop them. Usually one ship is enough.”

“We are wanted criminals,” you reminded them. “They have a reason.”

“And what’s the reason?” Wooyoung asked. “That you almost found out information about Star 1117’s location? And now you’re going to the red zone? Hell, if I had to say, it would look like you’re on the right path.”

Yeosang exchanged glances with you- Wooyoung was on to something. It made sense- if you had tried stealing information about any other thing, perhaps the Space Council wouldn’t have reacted so brashly.

“Alright, forwards we go,” you announced and Jongho nodded, immediately going back to steering the spaceship. “But if at any point we feel like it’s dangerous, we’re going back, space patrol or not.”

“Got it,” Jongho grinned, speeding up the ship once again. You went back to the dome to activate the shield, deciding not to go on the offensive for as long as you could manage- you didn’t want more charges added to your criminal record.

For a few moments, all of you focused on your tasks- Yeosang blasting any rocket that came your way, Jongho focusing on entering the red zone while Wooyoung assisted him, monitoring the radio. You gave directions from the dome, silently praying that this mission would not be a futile one when you heard the familiar static noise from the broken radio.

Immediately, all of you were hovering around Wooyoung and watching the radio try to display a message on its screen but failing to. It looked like something was disrupting its signals.

“It has to be because we’re near, right?” Wooyoung looked up at you and you nodded.

“Keep following the source- I’m going to try and get readings from outside,” you told them but before you could move and anyone else could verbally stop you, Wooyoung grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t go outside. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m only opening the dome,” you told him gently, your heart clutching at the sight of worry in his eyes- for you. “I’ll be right here.”

Wooyoung hesitantly let you go and you gave him a small smile before going back up and opening the dome, taking a little peek out. You rested your palms on the surface of the exterior and let the neurons spread around the spaceship so you could read the air and the surroundings- it didn’t always work but sometimes when there was something foreign in the air, you could read it.

“We’re entering the red zone in front of us in about two minutes, Captain,” Jongho warned. “You sure you want to be out?”

“I’ll be fine- it’s not dangerous,” you assured him but still shut the dome halfway in case you would have to retreat in an emergency.

However, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

Jongho announced that you were going to enter the zone in about thirty seconds and Yeosang positioned himself beside you with his gun. The two of you were covering the back of the spaceship when the air around you turned foggy, indicating that you were in the red zone’s range. You were just trying to get a reading when you saw something from the corner of your eye-

“Jongho!” You warned but it was too late- another spaceship came out of nowhere from within the red zone and hit the back of your spaceship so that Jongho lost control of the steering. The impact of the collision made your spaceship swerve dangerously to the left, making it spin. Yeosang lost his footing and unceremoniously landed down, shouting in warning and you retracted your neurons just in time to draw your hands back before the domed window fell back in its place. You would have fallen in a painful position but Yeosang managed to catch you just in time, though the rocking of your spaceship still made your head bang against the ladder rather painfully.

“I got it!” Jongho shouted and managed to stabilise the ship, and the gasp that he let out when he finally got a clear view outside made you wonder if something had gone wrong-

But Wooyoung looked just as speechless. Yeosang helped you up, making sure you were okay before you two joined them to look at the scene outside-

It was the same pitch black darkness of the space, void of any stars but surrounded by the blue masses of gas. And right at the centre was a small, glowing thing- it was too far to make out its shape but it looked like a rock from afar.

“Are we inside the red zone?” You asked in confusion.

“We crossed it, and now we’re inside the space surrounded by the red zones,” Jongho settled back in his seat in surprise.

“And we’re getting a proper signal- look,” Wooyoung managed to add amidst the confusion of the situation, pointing at Jongho’s device that you had used to track the signal from Wooyoung’s radio.

“There’s no one following us anymore” Yeosang went to check from the dome as if he couldn’t believe the radar readings. “We’re alone here.”

“Did you see the ship that crashed with ours?” You asked and Yeosang shook his head in denial. “Damage report?”

“Minor, nothing to be worried about for now,” Jongho assured. “So? Do we inspect that? Why is it glowing like that?”

You looked at the luminous thing in the middle of the space- this couldn’t be Star 1117, right? It was too small to be a planet. Was Yeosang right then? Was this just a byproduct rock or mass of the star that was once a planet?

“Before we go,” you began, a suspicion gnawing at you. “Let me read the collision real quick. There’s something odd about the spaceship that collided with ours.”

“Right? We didn’t detect it on the radar,” Jongho said.

“That might have been because of whatever was messing with the radio signals?” Wooyoung suggested but you weren’t sure. You went back to climb the ladder that led to the dome and this time, you sat outside on the surface while you protracted the neurons to read.

And what you saw made cold wash all over you- you must have let out a surprised sound because Yeosang was outside with you, his eyes filled with worry.

“It can’t be,” you shook your head. Nothing made sense anymore.

“What is it?” Yeosang asked. “Tell me.”

“It was our spaceship,” you told him and he frowned in confusion. “I saw our spaceship- this exact one.”

“That’s impossible,” Yeosang shook his head. “Maybe you’re wrong?”

“I’ve never been wrong,” a grim realisation started to dawn on you and you beckoned him to follow you down. “It wasn’t detected on our radar because it’s our spaceship. And it must have crashed with ours to bring us here, to this point.”

“Are you thinking… duplicates? Time travel?” Jongho looked at you in disbelief. “I could call you crazy if we weren’t here right now, but… you know those are just theories, right?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” you said, understanding his point, “But I know what I saw.”

“Time travel in the Temporal Nexus, huh?” Wooyoung scratched his chin in thought. “Isn’t that what Temporal Nexus means in the first place? A point where different timelines intersect?”

“That refers to the points in our galaxy when the cycle of one planet comes to a completion right when the cycle of another planet begins,” Yeosang said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Unless…”

“Unless your Space Council decided that’s what you all should know?” Wooyoung smiled knowingly. “Just like they didn’t tell you about that thing? About the red zones? About Star 1117? About Star 1118?”

“Let’s just… inspect that first before we start drawing conclusions,” Jongho said weakly and you all agreed, taking a seat next to the two. You sat next to Wooyoung and looked at him- could he be right?

He seemed to understand exactly what you were feeling, and when he slid his hand in yours, you didn’t draw away. You held it and squeezed it back. You needed that.

And it seemed like he needed that more when you started getting closer to the luminous form and realised that it looked more like a person than a rock or a star.

“Am I… going crazy?” Jongho asked, pressing the side of his glasses to zoom in, “or is that a literal fucking person hovering in the middle of space?”

“Are you sure that’s our source?” Yeosang sounded doubtful as he looked at Wooyoung who was beyond speechless, for once. You checked for him and sure enough, you were on the right path.

“Stop the spaceship,” you said when you saw the figure move and Jongho immediately did. The figure- person- turned around and all of you wowed and cursed under your breaths.

“That’s just… an Original Nexi, right?” Yeosang stood up to get a better view, prompting Jongho to continue approaching the figure. “Apart from the… glowing part.”

It sure looked like one- it had the characteristic androgynous appearance of one, with a stone etched under one eye like a teardrop. Jongho stopped the spaceship and looked at you.

“Are we inviting them in or are you going out?”

“No way that thing steps inside,” Yeosang shivered involuntarily. “I don’t want my spaceship glowing and sticking out like a sore thumb.”

“I’m pretty sure the glowing isn’t contagious,” Jongho laughed. “But he’s right. It’s better if the two of you go out. We humans can chill and watch, right, Wooyoung?”

“Right,” he sank lower in his seat. “You’re on your own, sweethearts.”

Yeosang scowled at the human before extending his hand for you.

“Don’t even try to read that thing,” Wooyoung warned in a low voice. You pursed your lips in answer before you joined Yeosang, exiting the spaceship from the dome and climbing down at the shaft that Jongho had opened for you to stand on.

You were now facing the figure, standing tall and powerful- there was no way this was just one of the Original Nexi- this person and everything about their presence was making you want to sink to your knees.

“Ah… how many times have we crossed paths now?” Its voice, smooth as silk, sounded inside you. Startled, you looked at Yeosang who was just as shocked, if not more.

“I don’t think we have crossed paths…” you narrowed your eyes as the person smiled knowingly. “Who are you?”

“I take it you got the message, then? It must be our first time meeting,” the person sighed as if the weight of the world was crushing it down. You noticed how up close, the glow from its skin wasn’t as obvious- perhaps, you were engulfed in it now.

“Who are you?” Yeosang asked. “And how are you here, like this?”

“Who do you think?” It asked, positioning itself so it looked like it was perched on an invisible surface. “You are looking for Star 1118, right?”

“And how do you know that?” You asked. This time, there was no apprehension in your voice but simply curiosity and wonder.

“Because I am the one you have been looking for,” the smile on its lips was so sad that it made you want to cry. “I am the one you saved and the one you let go of. I am the beginning and the end of this Temporal Nexus- I am Temporal Nexus, in its truest form. I am what you call Star 1117, and what you will call Star 1118 if you make the mistake of saving me.”

This time, your knees did go weak and Yeosang let out a gasp, utterly astounded. The person just watched you both with eyes that were both apologetic and full of resentment.

“Star 1117… is a person?” You breathed.

“Not really,” Star 1117 shrugged, the golden long hair flowing like a halo around its figure. “Just one of my forms. Just one of my names.”

“I don’t understand,” you said, turning to look at Jongho and Wooyoung who were listening in to your conversation from inside, both equally dumbfounded.

“Sweet child of the Nexi,” Star 1117 began. “I am the Temporal Nexus. I am all the stars in this galaxy and their cycle. I am the Original Nexi, the very first, and all of you are my descendants. At this moment, I am Star 1117- Star 1116’s cycle is almost complete and as a cycle comes to completion, I start assuming the next form. This is my final form, for the final cycle- there are no planets anymore- not after 1116.”

You did not know for how long you simply watched the person’s figure shimmer as if it was also a mass of gas- perhaps, if you touched it, your hand would pass right through its form. You and Yeosang stood in shock, trying to process your thoughts.

Star 1117 was a person, not a planet. This being was the core of the Temporal Nexus.

“If you are the Temporal Nexus,” Yeosang began, glancing at you for a moment before continuing, “you must be the past and the present. Isn’t the last cycle supposed to be the 1117th?”

“As the fates have intended, yes,” Star 1117 nodded. “And you’re out here to change that. In fact, you do. You find a way to save me and have the Temporal Nexus live its 1118th cycle. But that is where everything goes wrong,” the person smiled in a melancholic manner. “The Temporal Nexus is supposed to die with its intended last cycle. If you try to change the design of the universe, the universe finds a way to retaliate.”

“‘Do not save 1118’,” you quoted. “Why?”

“Because you triggered not only the end of the Temporal Nexus but the end of the galaxies surrounding me!” Star 1117’s voice boomed this time, making you clutch Yeosang’s hand. “The solar system is next- it will swallow in on itself, before its intended time. There will only be an end and no beginnings anymore.”

“That’s impossible,” you shook your head in disbelief. “You sent a message- to not save 1118. That means you were alive.”

“Oh, I was alive long enough to find a way to make things right,” Star 1117 smirked. “The human in your spaceship- it is he who sent my message. It is him who crashed into your spaceship just now so you made it here- it is him who gave us another chance to make things right and not make selfish decisions.”

You turned to look at Wooyoung who had an incredulous look on his face as he pointed at himself. You turned back to the Original Nexi.

“How?” Yeosang asked.

“In the time when I’m 1118, I’m weak and I fall,” Star 1117 admitted grimly. “The human who never made it to Star 1117 and never met any of you found my weak form. With his help, we formed the last link to the past and here we are. He does not remember because it is not him- it is the person who crashed his spaceship in yours. His origin and conclusion will remain to be unknown until you make a decision- save me, which will lead me to the human on Earth, or let me go, which will take us to a new path- perhaps, one where the world doesn’t end like that.”

“It was our spaceship that crashed into us,” you said.

“And I always wondered how he came to possess it,” Star 1117 sighed. “I hope you make the decision that leads to that moment in this timeline.”

“The decision to let you go?” You scoffed. “We will have no home- what about all of the Nexi? Aren’t they your children? Do you not care for them?”

“I do. But I have lived long enough, and I have seen what happens if you try to save your galaxy. Do not make the mistakes you have made so many times now,” Star 1117 almost pleaded. “Do not save me. Save yourselves.”

“I will save my home and the people who matter to me,” you said through gritted teeth. Yeosang put a warning hand on your shoulder but you shook it off. “You are the Temporal Nexus. You can’t die like this- you can’t take away my world- our world,” you motioned at the boys inside the spaceship. “I will find a way to save you and the galaxy.”

With that, you turned on your heels, not waiting for Yeosang. You were far too overwhelmed to think or care.

“There is no other way. You have tried everything. You have failed every time.”

Star 1117’s words were lost to space. Yeosang stood awkwardly, wanting to follow you inside but having too many questions of his own to do that. He turned to the being.

“If you are the Original Nexi, does that not mean that you grow old and young like your descendants?”

“I did, in the beginning, when I was young. When I was Star 1,” Star 1117 smiled. “After a certain time, when I started approaching my end, I got stuck in this miserable state, unable to age and unable to do anything but exist and die a little with each cycle,” the star raised its hand, proving that indeed, there was a translucence to its body indicating the weariness that dripped from its voice in a physical form. “Your people- the Space Council- they protected me and tried to help me, but to no avail. They realise that there is no answer to this. Some things are meant to die at their time, Kang Yeosang. Tell your friends that I have suffered enough for this world.”

—-------------------------------

You must be human, you thought, because you couldn’t stop crying.

Ever since the conversation with Star 1117, you had been overwhelmed to no end. You came back to the spaceship and shut yourself in your room. You knew the boys let you have your space for a while but it was Jongho who came to knock on your door first.

“Captain? You alright in there?”

You didn’t respond though you were pretty sure he could hear your sniffles. He continued. “I’m not exiting the red zone until you’re out, okay? Until I have your orders. Take your time, I understand.”

You muttered a thank you and that was enough for Jongho. It was Yeosang who came next to check on you.

“All that talk about not being as emotional as a human. Tsk tsk. Look at you,” Yeosang said, attempting to lighten the mood. You did let out a dark chuckle though that only made you cry some more.

“Come on. Tell me what’s got you crying so much.”

“I just need a few minutes,” you told him. “I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“It’s okay- just… come to us if it’s too much, okay? You’re not alone.”

You knew that. You were not alone, however, you had never felt more lonely. And you were starting to realise why-

You had subconsciously read Star 1117. While Star 1117 had been making all those claims, your neurons protracted just a fraction. The luminous light around you was a part of the being after all-

And all you got to read was pain. Extreme pain- not the physical kind, but the one that weighed on your soul. You felt utter loneliness- one that crushed you like nothing else. You felt the urge to cease existing but also felt helplessness like nothing else. No wonder Star 1117 had sounded so weary. You couldn’t imagine being in its place.

But then… what about your home? What about your people? What guarantee was there that you could all make it safely out of the Temporal Nexus when the last cycle comes to a conclusion? You had only one purpose in life ever since you understood how your home would die in your lifetime- and that was to prevent it. If you could not stop the unavoidable, you would have liked to have found a new home-

But there would be no home in the Temporal Nexus anymore. This spaceship was not a home. Space pods were not home- besides, you would have to find a place in another galaxy. What if you were never welcomed anywhere anymore? What if your family and friends refused to leave this galaxy?

You must have stopped crying a while ago, staring endlessly at the plain ceiling when a knock sounded. You had no energy to hum a response. The door clicked open and someone peeked in.

“I’m coming in,” Wooyoung announced, sitting next to you on the floor in a similar crouching position, your backs against the wall.

“Drink some water- please,” Wooyoung requested and you finally spared him a glance, taking the water bottle and drinking a few gulps.

The water from Star 1116. That was your home.

“Did you finally process all of it?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told him, “I’m so lost.”

“You read Star 1117, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked gently, already knowing the answer. He couldn’t help but slide closer when you nodded with an absolutely heartbreaking expression, tears in your eyes. He intertwined his hand with yours and let you rest your head on his shoulder- he could tell you were tired but he needed to tell you something too.

He told you that he went outside to have a conversation with Star 1117, and he told you what he learned from it- specifically about Star 1118 and Wooyoung’s role in all of this.

“The Temporal Nexus is the point where the past, the present and the future meet,” Wooyoung explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “In the past, there was an alien girl who was half-human but had beef with her own human counterpart. Her name was y/n-”

“Wooyoung-” you warned though the two of you shared a chuckle over that.

“She was the captain of her little crew, with Jongho the human driver, and Yeosang the pretty alien… fighter? Engineer? What even is his role?”

“We don’t have roles, we just… make do with what we can do,” you shook your head. “But carry on.”

“Right. So, the Captain learns that Star 1116’s cycle is about to end, and that Star 1117 is not a planet but a being by infiltrating into the Space Council- this time through the main door, not the vents,” Wooyoung laughed. “She learns about how the Space Council have also been trying to find a solution to save their home but are closer to giving up than to finding answers. Together- because that time you don’t become a space criminal- you find a way to prolong Star 1117’s cycle by concentrating the energy of all the red zones scattered out in the galaxy and transferring it to the last cycle.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded. “Red zones are energy byproducts of the previous planets.”

“Right? Star 1117 reluctantly agrees, and you all succeed- Star 1116’s cycle prolongs and leaks to Star 1117’s. The original last cycle, the 1117th, was supposed to be a shorter one since it’s just the galaxy ending itself before it reaches the 1118th cycle. But this time, the 1118th cycle begins. You all realise that you made a grave mistake and that the galaxy will eat itself like it was supposed to, but since it requires more energy to do that now, it will swallow the neighbouring galaxies and possibly trigger the end.”

You took a deep breath. “I triggered the end.”

“Not you alone, but basically… yeah. It suits you, doesn’t it?” Wooyoung chuckled, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and caress your arms assuringly.

“Not helping,” you muttered.

“Well,” Wooyoung huffed in resignation. “You try to make things right. You get this spaceship to Star 1117 and get it on board- its form is weakened by then and it is Star 1118 by that time. You set the destination to Earth, knowing someone on Earth would have figured out that their solar system was going to collapse soon and would do anything to change things. You leave the poor Star alone and go to save your family and friends.”

“And Star 1118 makes it to you?”

“Somehow, yes,” Wooyoung nodded. “I have always studied the Temporal Nexus deeply, so when I receive signals on my radio- yes, the radio I have now- I go to investigate the source and find your spaceship underwater near my hometown. With the help of my friends and the Space Centre on Earth, I recover that ship and find an ethereal being inside- Star 1118. Since the being is the Temporal Nexus- the past, the present, and the future of your galaxy- it finds traces of itself on me from another time.”

“Oh heavens,” you raised your head up to look at him. “It’s a time loop, isn’t it?”

“More romantic than that. We were meant to meet, y/n,” he smiled widely, pinching your nose but you were too surprised to react. “Star 1118 sets the loop into motion- or rather, propels it forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards. Jung Wooyoung now has one mission- to find the tear in space that will transport him to that moment to warn you-”

“The spaceship that collided with us,” you breathed, understanding how it worked. “It must have taken a few attempts.”

“Hence why it is a loop,” Wooyoung nodded. “However, Jung Wooyoung also did something else, which was quite genius of him if I have to say.”

“And what’s that?”

“Jung Wooyoung and Star 1118 worked together to send messages to my radio, which prompted the present me to make different decisions. And here we are,” he concluded with a dramatic sigh. “Things have changed. You can still make the same decisions and it might lead to a time where Star 1118 is not able to go to Earth to warn Jung Wooyoung. That would be the end. Or…”

“Or I could let it be,” you shrugged away from Wooyoung’s arm and buried your face in your hands.

“I think you already know, but Star 1117 has suffered a lot,” Wooyoung said, and you were once again amazed by how gently he talked to you despite knowing what you had done- what you might do. “It suffered alone for 1117 cycles. You put an end to its sufferings and you might find a new home. A better one.”

“My home is Star 1116,” you said, though the words started to sound like a weight over your heart now. “Not everyone can let go of their home.”

“I thought you understood by now that home is where the heart is,” Wooyoung said and you looked at him to find him smiling. “Where’s your heart, y/n?”

Like the soft embrace of a mother, you felt the answer wrap around the physical organ that was your heart- the answer that was a feeling, an emotion- and not strictly a human one at all. You didn’t have to be human to understand that your heart belonged to the people around you- to your family because they were yours, to Jongho and Yeosang who were your friends, and to Wooyoung- the human who had to be your saving grace.

Home was also the house and the land where you grew up, but it was not the location or the building that made it a part of your heart- it was the things that you associated with home. Your alien mother, your human father. Their parents who had once lived there, whose memory clung to the walls and was etched in the frames that sat on the mantle. Home was the lake next to your house but what made it a part of your heart was the memories of splashing water on Jongho and Yeosang, and the memories of your parents teaching you how to swim.

Home was where the heart was. And as long as you had the pieces of your heart next to you, you would be home.

“Did you find the answer?” Wooyoung cupped your face to wipe the tears that left your eyes, smiling knowingly. You smiled back, clutching his hands that were caressing your cheeks.

“Home is where the heart is,” you told him, your voice wet with emotions. “And you are my heart, Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes curved like moons as his smile grew wider. He nodded, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful this piece of your heart was. You leaned forward to rest your hands on his neck, surprising him a bit. His hands went to rest on your waist and you pecked his lips, looking at him shyly before pecking them again, unable to look at him any longer so you closed the distance between you two as you hugged him. He let out a laugh of disbelief before he relaxed, burying his nose in the crook of your neck and hugging you back just as tightly, rocking your bodies slightly.

“I found a home with you too,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

You nodded, your heart filling with foreign emotions- like a pleasant tickle to your heart. Perhaps, this was what it felt like to give your heart to someone.

—-----------------------------------

Everything was happening too soon for your liking, but with the help of your friends, you were coming to terms with the fact that you could not save the Temporal Nexus Galaxy- that there was nothing that could be done and the best decision you could make was to let Star 1117 go.

You stayed in the red zone for a whole day after your talk with Wooyoung. Exiting the red zone would mean confronting the Space Patrol and you had to make a decision before that. Jongho and Yeosang were coping by studying about time loops and talking to Star 1117 about how it worked and if there was any possibility that could work- if Star 1117 was all the past, present and the future of the Temporal Nexus, it would know if any of the decisions the residents of its galaxy made led to a hopeful future. But there was none.

After exhausting every possibility, they finally came to talk to you and let you know that they had made their decisions- they were going to get their families out of Star 1116 and find a new home. They were also aware that some of their families and acquaintances might choose to stay and disintegrate with the planet, with their home. Now they were just waiting for you to make your decision.

And it was a little conversation with Jongho that made you wonder just what you had been so bitter about.

You joined him by the window as he stared at the blue masses of energy around the spaceship. He smiled to acknowledge your presence before saying, “Wouldn’t it be so good if we could just go back to the past and relive our childhood?”

You smiled back- your childhood really was a fond memory, something you kept very close to your heart. “How young are we talking?”

“Hmm… good question. What would you say is your happiest memory on Star 1116?”

“Honestly? Probably the time when I showed you and Yeosang that I finally learned to swim. We had a little fight afterwards about whose technique was better,” you said and he grinned at that.

“What do you think? Would you like to go back to the past?”

You pursed your lips in thought. Sure, your past was a golden memory and saying that you missed that time and wanted to go back wasn’t supposed to hold literal meaning, but if you were offered to go back, would you?

“What about you?” You asked.

Jongho exhaled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t. I like where I am now. I’m still with you and Yeosang. Nothing has changed.”

You nodded- your answer was the same.

“And I will continue to be where the two of you are,” Jongho added. “Create more happy memories. Hell, maybe we’ll look back to this moment one day, right?”

You nodded slowly. Wooyoung had changed your perspective a lot and you were finally starting to understand Jongho.

“I might even visit Earth and see what the hype is about,” Jongho suggested and you chuckled. “Maybe we can all go to drop Wooyoung. He’s slowly taking over the spaceship. Next thing we know we’ll be calling him captain and he’ll be slaving us.”

“Right? Maybe we can chuck him into that mass and see where he lands,” you pointed at the red zone in front of you, sharing a laugh with Jongho.

“You know, I thought about it a lot, why in all the timelines that exist, according to Star 1117, you- we keep making the same decision- trying to save the galaxy. Do you know what’s the only difference this time and why we all are seriously considering letting things be?”

“Wooyoung?”

“Yes,” Jongho confirmed. “This is the only timeline known to Star 1117 where he makes a different decision and ends up being a part of the crew. Makes you think about how the butterfly effect works, right?” He ruminated. “In all the timelines, we made different decisions that led us to the same outcome- apocalypse. Things are very different now, and this might be our last chance at making sure we do not trigger the apocalypse.”

“I know,” you folded your arms around you, hugging yourself. “We can’t be the only factor triggering the apocalypse though, right? What if we make the right decisions this time but we still end up losing everything?”

“Well… only one way to find out- if we make the right decisions now,” Jongho looked at you, hope in his eyes. “So. Did you make a decision?”

“I think you know,” you looked wistfully into the space around you. “Let’s go say goodbye to our home.”

Jongho smiled proudly at you. “Star 1117 told me that you were very bitter and hellbent on saving the galaxy in all the timelines. It’s good to see you smile like this, Captain. You seem almost human.”

“I am human,” you said casually but for Jongho, it was the first time hearing you acknowledge your human lineage and he put a hand over his mouth dramatically to stifle a gasp. You only rolled your eyes in response, spotting Wooyoung from the corner of your eye who simply passed you both a cheeky smile and waved before disappearing into the kitchen. You recalled just how adamant you had been about not accepting that you were human too.

But being human didn’t sound so bad anymore.

And with that decision, you said your goodbye to Star 1117. The being did not thank you for making the right decision. It simply curled in on itself and weeped, the tears escaping its eyelids and evaporating into the air like glitter. You felt the being’s exhaustion and sadness as though it was tangible and that only made you more sure about what you had to do.

Right as you exited the red-zone territory, there was a spaceship waiting for you. It signalled for you to stop and a person stepped out, displaying their Space Council id and demanding to enter your ship. For a moment, you were scared of the consequences of your action- were you going to be arrested now? Would you not get to say goodbye to your home? But when the person made an okay sign, a collective sigh of relief passed and Yeosang pressed the button to open the door for them.

The tall figure clad in a black striped suit with a waistcoat entered, looking around your spaceship with curiosity. You noticed silver extensions on one of his hands, kind of like your neurons except they almost looked like an accessory. The other hand was covered in a black glove and you wondered why.

“Greetings,” he smiled. “I’m Jeong Yunho from the Space Council. It’s good to finally meet you, y/n.”

“Me?” You frowned. “Do I know you?”

“You don’t,” he shrugged, “but I do. From multiple timelines. I’ve been on your case since the very first timeline, working with Star 1117 to find a solution that does not involve exterminating you because Star 1117 insisted that while you and your friends may be its doom, you could also be its saviour.”

You suddenly felt dizzy at his admission.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you about my adventures chasing your crew,” Yunho chuckled. “But for now… I’d like to accompany you to Star 1116 and make sure you stay on the right track. You will need me if you want to go home because I have not yet lifted your criminal charges. And… you have an unregistered human aboard,” Yunho glanced at Wooyoung who waved his hand awkwardly. “We have a lot to do, folks.”

You scanned his figure with suspicion, your neurons extracting subconsciously wanting to get a reading from him. He noticed that.

“If it helps,” he began. “I’m one of the Original Nexi. There’s a group of us that work in the Space Council solely for the sake of protecting Star 1117.”

“You’re letting Star 1117 die, though,” Yeosang commented in your stead and you silently thanked him. That had been on the tip of your tongue too.

“The Temporal Nexus is called temporal for a reason, isn’t it?” He retorted. “To protect the essence of Star 1117 and this galaxy is to protect its heart- its residents. But I think you all already understand that by now.”

The knowing smile he passed you made you want to ask more questions but he interrupted with clapping and barking orders- you were apparently short on time now and needed to inform the residents of Star 1116 and the rest of the galaxy as soon as possible so everyone could make the big decisions and they could initiate their final operation- to leave the galaxy for good.

And it was no surprise that it was Wooyoung who got the Original Nexi to talk and open up. While Jongho set the spaceship on auto towards Star 1116, the three of you watched from a corner, huddled next to each other. Not too far on the table sat Wooyoung with a warm meal for Yunho, learning anything and everything about the Original Nexi and Yunho himself, learning about his experience with your crew in the different timelines and more. You didn’t even realise that you were biting your nails with narrowed eyes full of scepticism until Wooyoung looked around for you and laughed at the sight of the three of you.

“I guess I’m relaxed because it is actually our first meeting- we haven’t met in any other timeline,” Wooyoung grinned. “Not that I would have known if we had anyway. Right?”

“Right,” Yunho grinned back, shaking his head at the three of you. “Just a reminder that we were friends in some timeline and enemies in the other.”

“Yeah, I think I can understand why,” Yeosang muttered, looking pointedly at Wooyoung.

“How are you able to remember the timelines?” Jongho asked his first question in a while.

“These,” Yunho raised both his hands and shared a look with you. “We’re quite similar, but I’m able to look into different timelines too.”

You made an impressed face and the blinkers lit up, indicating that you were reaching Star 1116’s territory. Jongho went to steer the spaceship himself and Yunho joined him, striking up a conversation having noticed the equipment on the dashboard. While the two talked, Wooyoung joined you and Yeosang, resting his hand on your knee and squeezing it to make sure you were okay. You nodded in response and pointed at the screen, your heart filling with warmth at the sight of the star.

“We’re home.”

Home. As soon as you could see the lush green fields that surrounded your house, you were on your feet and making your way to the screen, eager to step out. You would have to land at the Space Centre where you previously worked and Yunho made sure you could pass through every security check without any inconvenience. Wooyoung stood next to you and you told him all about the Space Centre and your time as a unit there.

Wooyoung’s eyes were filled with awe, his mouth parted in surprise as you all stepped out of the spaceship. The view from the screen had been good, yes, but nothing compared to stepping inside that picture, and for Wooyoung who was a human from Earth… you wondered if that was what your great grandparents and their team must have felt when they first landed on Star 1116.

“It’s like Earth, you were right,” Wooyoung nodded, almost jumping when a few will-o’-the-wisps circled his figure and fluttered away. Jongho giggled at his reaction and smacked his back.

“Like Earth but prettier, right?” He said. “That’s what I keep hearing.”

“No, you heard that right,” Wooyoung agreed. “Our grass looks dull compared to this- how is it so vibrant?”

“Wait till you see the lakes,” you told him, knowing that was probably the most surprising part from the memories of your great grandfather.

“We should show him the cave too!” Yeosang joined you both. “It’s a nice spot to bury him- no one would know. He’ll be dust along with the planet-”

“And he would never make it past the tarantulas that protect the cave,” Jongho chuckled darkly and Wooyoung decided he felt safer with Yunho, falling in step with him while the Nexi shook his head in amusement at the interaction.

“You should have chucked me in the red zone,” Wooyoung folded his arms and you snickered until you realised that he must have heard that bit from your conversation with Jongho. You exchanged a glance with the youngest who pointed at you, transferring all the blame. Wooyoung’s pout deepened and you took a deep breath.

“Boys, I’m going to steal this one for a while,” you went towards Wooyoung and hooked your arm around his, your crew hooting in appreciation and suggestively wiggling their brows, Yeosang going as far as pretending to gag. You asked Yunho if it was fine and he assured that it was, asking all of you to meet up back at the Space Centre in a few hours. You intertwined your hand with Wooyoung’s.

“What would you like to see first?”

“Hmm…” Wooyoung took a while to think, his eyes scanning everything in sight the further you walked away from the Space Centre, looking at the passersby with curiosity- you couldn’t blame him. The residents of Star 1116 looked far from human in their appearance- from looking almost human like Yeosang to having iridescent coloured skin or accessories like horns or wings.

“Show me your favourite places- all of them,” Wooyoung looked at you, kissing your temple. “Show me the shade of the tree near your house where you grew up, the lake… the places from the journals that you talked about- everything.”

“Would you like to meet my family too?” You asked hesitantly, not sure if the human would be up to it but his warm smile erased any doubts in your heart.

“I would love to.”

“My mother will love you,” you laughed. “My father can be a little… hard to please.”

“Well, I know just how to win his heart,” he winked at you and you accepted the challenge.

You showed him all your favourite places, keeping your house for the last. You walked around the streets without a care in the world for the first time in a while, making him try some local delicacies and showing him the animals unique to Star 1116- it was more of a surprise to him to find that the things you called ‘dogs’ here were more spiky than furry and he told you that you were missing out on the joy of hugging a dog. You grimaced- hugging a dog here would create pokes in your skin unless you had scales or a protective barrier like most of the aliens here.

You took him to one of the bigger lakes in the area and he was utterly fascinated by the way he could see almost every creature inside the lake thanks to the glowing properties of the soil under the lake. He experimentally dipped his hand inside the water, feeling the coolness of the lake quite like Earth’s but somehow feeling more at ease- it always unsettled him when he was near a water body on Earth and could only imagine what was prowling inside. He looked around, noticing the little things that made Star 1116 so beautiful- mountains made of smooth, patterned rocks. Trees with leaves of multiple colours, unaffected by the season and with little gems dangling from the tips of its branches where flowers would have been. The strange birds with their unusually elongated bodies that flew in the sky. The sky that was dark and the ground that he stood on that lit the planet.

It was truly a magnificent sight, and Wooyoung could understand why you- why everyone was reluctant to let go of their home.

Lastly, you walked to your house and you pointed at all the places on the way which had some memory associated with them. You told him about how the humans lived in a little community here- most of them were too old to leave their home. Some of them rarely came home, opting to explore the space instead- like you. Then you told him about your family- your mother was a crime scene investigator and your father was a medical researcher. Wooyoung was impressed to hear that and told you he would love to hear more about that.

When you reached the little cottage by the lake, you paused and took a deep breath, taking in everything. It was still the same- the wooden exterior looking worn out, the smell of wet mud filling your nose, the sound of children in the distance. You pointed at the house.

“That’s me.”

Wooyoung nodded, giving your hand a squeeze to tell you that he was ready. You walked towards the door and pressed your thumb on the lock, the door clicking open and then you heard the familiar footsteps of your mother approach you. Her face lit up at the sight of you and then she paused when she saw your hand in Wooyoung’s. She scanned him with curiosity. You looked back and forth between the two- it would only be a moment until your mother would realise that Wooyoung was not a human. And Wooyoung-

You could tell why he looked surprised- your mother wore her neuron extensions like a crown over her head at all times. Apart from her striking copper hair, she looked very much like you.

Your mother smiled knowingly at the two of you before spreading her arms and you grinned, walking right in her embrace and melting into it.

“Well done, love,” she whispered. “I heard about what happened with the Space Council and Star 1117. You did so well.”

“I’m sorry,” you told her, knowing that she didn’t need your words to hear what you were sorry about, nor did she need to read you. She simply knew what you meant. She always did.

“No need for that,” she drew back with a kiss to your forehead. “I see you have a guest.”

“Yes, this is-”

“A human,” your father completed that for you, clad in a mismatched outfit which was indication that he had been holed up in his room with some research again. Wooyoung finally bowed at your parents.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jung Wooyoung… from Earth.”

“And what are you doing here with my daughter?” Your father inquired. You may have rolled your eyes if this was any other situation but your mother let you know that she had also heard about Wooyung’s role in the recent events. Relaxing a bit, you let Wooyoung handle the situation.

“She arrested me, sir.”

The room was silent for a moment before your mother snorted, ending up with all of you laughing and you shook your head at Wooyoung- you had never told him about how your parents met but it was something similar. Your father welcomed him with a pat and kissed the top of your head before steering him to the lounge, eager to hear the stories from Earth.

And just like that, the house became a home with Wooyoung and your mother cooking together while they chatted, your father and you catching up with each other. Not too long after, the doorbell rang and in came Jongho and Yeosang, claiming to have ‘smelt’ Wooyoung’s cooking all the way to their house. They definitely didn’t get a message from your mother to join them.

You had about half an hour left until you had to go to the Space Centre. Your heart felt full watching all the people you loved gathered and Wooyoung fitting right in as if he had always been a part of this little unit. He caught you watching him with a smile on your face and raised his brows in question. You signalled that you were going outside and once he joined you, you asked if he wanted to sit by the lake.

“I’ve been soaking up all the memories of today,” you told him, showing the neurons on your fingertips shaped like nails. “I don’t think I can ever forget today’s events.”

“I did well, right?” He smiled proudly when you nodded in response. “Well, I’ve always been everyone’s favourite even back on Earth.”

You made a face at that and he scoffed. “Read me if you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you- you have a way of charming people,” you admitted and he grinned. You showed him the spot next to some big rocks where you used to sit when you needed space.

“This is probably my favourite spot on the whole planet,” you told him, flattening your hands on the ground once you sat, reliving the memories of this place in quick flashes.

“I can see why,” Wooyoung looked around. With your home on the back and the view of the mountains in the front, he thought he could stay here forever.

“Yunho told me that Star 1116 will die soon, but the galaxy itself won’t end soon- it will take some time and if we’re lucky, it won’t happen in our lifetime,” you sighed deeply. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad. We will still need to find a new home. We can’t make one in the Temporal Nexus anymore.”

“Well… if you hadn’t told me that Star 1116 was your home, I would have assumed the spaceship was,” he said and you raised a brow. “It has such a homey feel to it. We can take all our time to explore the other galaxies and find a new home.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I’m going back to Earth just like that, do you?” Wooyoung tsk-ed. “Not without you, at least.”

“Really?” You made a face. “I thought I’d be getting rid of you soon-”

Wooyoung leaned forward right when you turned, your noses brushing and your heart fluttering. Wooyoung’s gaze fell on your lips and a little smirk creeped on his own lips.

“I know why you have your kitty claws out, sweetheart,” he tilted his head just a fraction and you instinctively gulped. “You’ve been saving all the memories of this place- with me this time.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong. Your lack of response was an answer to him and he fully smirked as he drew back.

You wanted to tell him that you brought him here to make one final memory of this place. You curled your fingers around his hand and when your eyes met, it was like he understood your intentions. He took your other hand and pulled you over him so that you settled on his lap.

You trailed the pointy tips of your neurons along his temple and his spine, making him shiver. He loved it when you watched him with fascination and teased him experimentally as if you were afraid of his reaction. However, he welcomed every little thing you did to him. He let you cup his face and when you kissed him, he groaned in relief before kissing you back, one hand supporting him up while the other curling in your hair. You moved your lips along his in synchronisation and you loved the way he held you.

You drew back once you were out of breath, sharing a grin- this was your first proper kiss. You rested your hands on his shoulders and he lay down on the ground, eliciting a surprised sound from your mouth at the new position. Before you could comment on it, he cupped your face and brought you in for another kiss, the other hand going to rest on your waist. It was slow and sensual, not a care for time or any other thing. Just you, Wooyoung and your favourite spot in the Temporal Nexus.

When you broke apart and settled down next to him in his arms, you watched the stars together and you showed him one that glowed with a very familiar golden tint.

“That must be Star 1117.”

Wooyoung agreed, absently caressing your arm. You looked at him, finding him deep in thought. You scratched his chin like you had seen him do to the black cat from his home and he smiled at that.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… will you watch the stars with me every night from now on?”

You kissed his cheek in response.“Only if I get to sleep in your arms- you are my home, Jung Wooyoung.”

#and here it is my first space au hehe #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez ff #jung wooyoung

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animasola86 · 13 days ago

Text

👻 A KNIFE TO REMEMBER

ghostface x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.8k

As you try to find your way through the mysterious house, someone finds you first...

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Masks/costumes! Knife kink/knife play! Fingering! Anonymous sex! Creampies! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 2 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 This is OPTION 1/PART 2 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and on your search for the bathroom, you come to a long hallway full of doors, and you decide to reach for the door closest to you.

Just when you reach for the door knob, you feel someone coming up from behind, and before you know it, a pair of hands blocks your vision. You gasp in shock, but a low voice vibrates in your ear as you're being pulled against a firm body.

“Shh, no need to panic,” the male voice drones, making you stiffen in his hold. It sounds a little muffled. “I won't hurt you. Unless you're into it...”

You reach up and grab onto his wrists, squirming against him. “Let me go,” you plead, but he only shushes you.

“Ah, come on, little Red. You're here for an adventure, aren't you?”

His hand moves to your mouth now, and you blink into the dimly lit hallway. He holds your face tightly, making it impossible to turn your head and look at whoever has you in his grasp, but you can still see that he's wearing a black costume, something like a robe. No gloves, though, just big veiny hands. Strong, and very adventurous.

With one still on your mouth, muffling the noises of protest, his other hand roams along your body, rubs up and down your side, gropes at your breast, grips your throat and gives it a light squeeze, before moving back down, teasing under the hem of your skirt. You must be in shock, because you can't find the courage or willpower to fight whatever is happening. This guy is clearly taking advantage of your confusion, and without another word, he pushes you forward, opens another door and guides you into the dark room beyond it.

You stumble, and when he finally lets you go, you fall onto something soft. A bed. Scrambling on your hands and knees, you're not quick enough as he grabs you again, pushing you flat on your stomach. A garbled scream escapes you, coaxing a low chuckle out of him. He has his hand on your nape, a tight grip, and you whine and struggle, but he's strong, and when you suddenly feel something cold press against your neck, you freeze on the spot.

“Tsk, tsk,” he makes. “Be a good little victim now, okay? I really don't want to make my shiny new toy dirty too soon. Can you feel it? The cold blade?”

You don't even dare to breathe at this point, because, yes, you can feel it, see the large knife in your mind's eye as it teases against your delicate skin. He eases the pressure slightly when he curls one arm around your middle, pulling you back and flush against him. You'd expect his breath on your ear with how close his voice is, but you can't feel anything – except something hard like plastic pressing against your cheek. He's wearing a mask.

“So, let's have a bit of fun first, yeah?” he whispers and leans around you, and even in the dark room, with only the moonlight falling through the window, you can see the long white face with its wide open mouth and droopy eye holes glaring at you. Ghostface. “Hi,” he says, tilting his head menacingly, a low chuckle in his muffled voice. “Or would you have preferred a different sicko with a knife? We do have quite the selection tonight.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. The sight of that face, frozen in plastic, gives you the chills, but you can't deny the little flutter in your stomach. May it be your sensitive guts or something else entirely, but whatever the case, you are rendered immobile by this strange encounter.

“So, how would you like this? Shall I chase you through the house first?” he continues in a mocking tone.

You blink, trying to calm your thundering heart. “Just... let me go?” you gasp out when he raises his knife again, poking the sharp tip against the side of your neck. “Please!” you cry out with a whimper, tilting your body away.

“Aw, baby, don't worry, I won't kill you,” he says quietly, pressing his other hand against your stomach. “I just want to have some fun! And I'm sure you do too. I saw you come in, all alone, lost and lonely. Won't you like some company? Isn't that why you came here on your own? To meet people? Let loose?”

His words have the desired effect as you find yourself agreeing with him. Maybe not like this, but then again, this is a Halloween party, spookier things have happened than having some fun with a masked stranger (who teases you with a very real knife...). You can't deny that your body is already accepting whatever may happen next. The man behind you seems to sense its willingness too as his hand suddenly slips down your stomach and under your skirt and curls right between your legs, eager fingers pressing against your underwear.

“Ah, yes, see? You're so ready for this,” he hisses into your ear, and you look away in shame. “So wet. Maybe you have a knife kink?” he asks, simultaneously pressing the blade against your throat and his fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp and stiffen. As you fight the urge to squirm, he keeps rubbing along the drenched fabric of your panties, pressing hard and deep, teasing your entrance. “Would you like to have something bigger in that cute little cunt, hm, baby? I promise I brought more than just this pretty knife...”

To underline his words, he presses his groin against your back, and you can feel just how happy he is to see you. Your heart beats faster. It's a strange sensation. This feels wrong, being cornered by a stranger (with a knife no less), forced to have some fun, but then again, maybe you needed the push into the right direction. You only live once, as cheesy as it sounds, and you have to admit you've (more or less shamefully) masturbated to the occasional rape fantasy story before.

Sure it's something else to actually experience this, but your body seems to disagree. It's a thrill, an actual adventure, and the fact that you could have fought more and tried to run away but never actually did speaks volumes. Maybe you want this? And he does seem to ask you for your consent in his own twisted way, even if he has a knife pressed to your neck and his fingers between your thighs – he could have just taken you with how much bigger and stronger he is, but in the good old villain fashion he had to hear his own voice for a bit instead.

“Well?” he whispers, rubbing his plastic mask against your cheek. You can hear his labored breaths through it now, he seems just as excited as the wetness dripping against his fingertips makes you appear.

“Mhm,” you croak out, unable to find your voice or any words to make this whole situation make sense in your protesting mind. You can't believe you just agreed to this, whatever this is, but before you can ponder it any longer, he suddenly pushes you forward and you land on the bed again. Too shocked to move, you let him manhandle you onto your back, and before you know it, he's crawled over you, pushing your skirt up and your legs wide apart, holding them open with his knees.

His hands roam up your body, and you realize he's dropped the knife somewhere, as his long fingers knead your breasts through the fabric of your blouse. You lie beneath him like a stranded beetle on its back, hands palm-up next to your head, unable to even twitch, and all you can do is watch the large shadow above you, with only the white mask glowing in the dark. It's eerily intimidating, but at the same time you feel the telltale tension in your stomach, alerting you just how aroused you are.

“What a good girl you are,” he says, fingers fidgeting with the buttons of your blouse. “So submissive. Are you just as breedable, hm?”

His words make you shiver. You inhale sharply when his rough hands make contact with your soft breasts as they slip right beneath your bra, pushing it up, and you can't help pressing your chest against his touch, wanting more. He's strangely gentle in how he touches you, despite his costume, despite the power he clearly has over you. And it only adds to your arousal, making you squirm beneath him.

“Little Red's excited, huh?” he mocks as he gropes your tender tits until you feel your hard nipples pressing into his palms. “Don't worry, I'll fill you up in no time. But maybe... hmm...” he makes, slowly leaning back on his knees. His fingers grip the sides of your blouse, pulling it open and exposing you completely, before trailing over your stomach until he reaches to the side and grabs the knife again. “Maybe I want you to beg for it...”

You let out a surprised whimper when you feel the cold edge of the knife press between your breasts, teasing at the soft mounds. He's looming over you, his head (and the mask) tilted ominously to the side, the grotesque face staring down at you. You swallow hard, barely daring to move with the blade so close to your skin.

“Come on, baby, beg me to fuck you... or beg me not to kill you?”

Suddenly his hand is on your throat, and you gasp voicelessly as he closes his fingers around it, while pressing the knife firmer against your chest, the blade scratching along your skin with every rapid breath you take, no matter how hard you try not to move.

“Please,” you whimper, a series of shivers crashing down your spine. “Don't... hurt me...”

“Hmm, can't promise that, lovely,” he replies with a sigh. “I'm sure you'll like a bit of rough sex as well, won't you? And what's pleasure without a little pain, hm? Try again!”

The knife pokes a little deeper, and you're sure it broke your skin now, but he keeps holding your neck, that unnerving mask staring down at you. “Please, don't kill me,” you whisper, playing along, somehow not as frightened as you should be. “I'm too young to die!”

His laugh is low and menacing. “And too pretty as well, right? Yeah, you are,” he says with another chuckle, leaning closer until your entire vision is filled with that white face and its black eye holes. “Well, then, whatever else could we do? You know I like to kill people, slash them up real good... if only there was something I could do to you instead...”

“F-fuck me,” you croak out, surprised by your own words.

He leans back abruptly, a triumphant “Ah!” falling from behind the mask. “Good girl, Red. I can do that!”

Your head is spinning as you have a moment to contemplate what you just said, but only until you feel his hands lifting your hips before his fingers pull your panties down. He's shifted to kneel beside you, and you realize he's placed his knife right on your fluttering stomach. Your hands claw at the edges of the pillow as you ground yourself, still not even thinking about fighting back or even escaping. Why would you? You've never felt this exhilarated. Sex with a stranger. Your mother would be so disappointed, but it's all the more incentive to go through with it.

You watch his dark figure, noticing that he's rid himself of the long black robe, and you can see muscled arms and a tight black shirt, and you wished you could see it all in more detail, but it's too dark, so you just have to imagine the rest of his build. Not that it matters much, you're already aroused enough as it is (though the mental image of a big strong guy with bulging muscles pinning you to the bed certainly helps with it).

When his fingers are back between your legs, you gasp in surprise, blinking your eyes into focus as he rips you from your thoughts. His fingertips move expertly, slipping between your labia, teasing at your hooded clit, poking at your hole. All you can do is squirm slightly, moaning softly the more he touches you. He watches you, or so you think, his head tilted comically to the side, that white face leering at you ominously.

Suddenly he moves, hands on your thighs as he pushes your legs wide open, before he grabs the knife and teases the pointy tip down your stomach, over the fabric of your bunched up skirt, until you feel the cold metal against your inner thigh. You let out a croaked whimper, forcing yourself not to move too much. While he teases you with the blade, he puts his hand over your mound, pumping his palm against your wet folds until a lewd squelching sound rings in your ears that makes you blush deeply.

“Nice and wet for me, aren't you?” he mocks quietly, repeating the motions a few times before he pulls his hand back and probes two fingers against your core instead. You brace yourself for the intrusion, but you still cry out softly when he pushes inside you. Big hands with thick fingers, and two of his feel like four of yours, as he stretches your entrance and presses hard against your protesting muscles. You groan in response, thrashing your head back.

He keeps fingering you, his digits slipping in and out in a lazy rhythm that he mirrors with his knife as it scratches up and down your inner thigh, and every time he presses the blade harder against your skin, you feel your walls clenching around his fingers.

“You like that, huh?” he whispers menacingly. “Knife kink confirmed.”

You bite your lip hard to suppress more telltale noises of pleasure, but he only keeps going, teasing you, playing with you, pushing hard and fast into you, and when he curls his fingers just right, you inhale sharply, that tension in your stomach building relentlessly, almost painfully, but it's only when you suddenly feel the cold metal of the blade right against your throbbing clit that you come with a loud howl, hips bucking up, no longer caring about getting cut, as you ride the waves of bliss as if nothing else matters.

“Beautiful,” you hear his distant voice as you slowly come down from your high, bright lights dancing behind your eyelids, and you feel him still massaging your squishy walls as they contract around him. “Can't wait to feel that around my cock...”

You hear a soft clinking sound when he seems to fumble with his belt, the knife back on your belly, heavy and cold even through the fabric. His hands are on your waist then, pulling you down a little until he drapes your legs over his thighs, guiding your crotches together. You barely register any of it, your mind reeling from your orgasm, but also anticipating the feel of his dick inside you. You can't see it in the dark, but with how he is built, you can only imagine it must be equally impressive.

You don't have to think about it for long as you feel its tip pressing between your wet folds when he rubs it against you to gather your slick. Breathing harder, you open your eyes, trying to watch him. The moonlight is enough to show you a big strong body kneeling between your legs, and only the glowing mask makes it all a little eerie, but when he finally enters you, you don't care about appearances anymore. He feels glorious.

Big, oh so big, filling you out more than you would have expected as he presses deeper, nudge by nudge, little rolls of his hips until he bottoms out inside you. His hands dig into your waist, holding you against him, and you feel bruises forming, but you don't mind, you need this. His first thrust makes the knife on your stomach bounce, and you gasp loudly. The second is equally harsh as he withdraws slowly to slam back in with force.

When he finally settles into a slow but steady rhythm, you're mewling softly, overwhelmed by how he feels inside you, how your walls cling to his shaft, sucking him in and dragging along it with every push and pull, rubbing so deliciously you feel a scorching tension building up inside you, burning brighter with every snap, every deep plunge, filling you up more and more.

His hands leave your waist to grab your throat, turning your soft moans into voiceless gasps, as he slowly picks up the pace and really rams into you, using his hold on your neck as leverage to angle his pelvis against you, allowing him to hit all the good spots with ease and fervor. You cry out soundlessly, your eyes rolling back, the last thing you see that ominous white mask above you, before you come hard around him, clamping down on his pistoning cock, your wetness gushing past him as you convulse beneath him.

You feel lightheaded, blinded by bliss, barely able to breathe, but you couldn't care less. He fucks you through your literally mind-blowing orgasm, pushing you higher and higher, until you feel it building up all over again. He lets go of your throat, allowing you to cry out hoarsely as you come a second time (or so you think, not that you could think at all, much less count the highs he's forcing upon you).

He pushes you down into the bed, one hand on your shoulder, holding you steady, while his other hand grabs the knife off your stomach, and you only realize that when you feel the cold blade against your cheek, gathering your sweat on its tip. Or maybe your tears, you can't be sure, your body feels like it belongs to somebody else at the moment, and you're just here to enjoy the ride.

“Open wide,” he tells you, his voice muffled and strained, and you comply, parting your lips before you feel the blunt edge of the blade pressing against them. “Tongue out.” You follow through, still too dizzy to question anything.

He presses the knife flat against your tongue, holding it there while he keeps pounding his cock into your fluttering cunt. You can hear his labored breaths from behind the mask, his movements becoming jerkier as you just lie there, staring up at him, goosebumps rippling over your skin as your legs twitch against his sides.

The white face is looming over you, unmoving, unnerving, while the man behind it gives his all to chase his own orgasm as he thrusts into you feverishly. Your own sounds are muffled with how he holds your mouth open, and you have to really force yourself not to move your tongue against the blade. He leans down more, putting more of his weight on you, pinning you down, his hips snapping against yours in a wild rhythm, until he finally stills, a loud groan echoing in your ears as he falls forward, mask pressed to the pillow beside your head, the hand holding the knife to your tongue shaking slightly.

That last thrust made you whine as he pushed as deep as he could possibly go, bullying your cervix, and before you can even wonder if he's used a condom or not, which you doubt, but again, your mind is swimming in bliss, unable to worry about anything at all, you feel him throbbing inside you, his balls drawing up against your folds as he empties himself in your depths, filling you with spurt after spurt of hot cum. You clench around him, trying to milk him, and the motion only makes you moan into the blade pressed against your tongue as another wave of pleasure crashes over you at the sensation.

He eventually leans back up, propped on his elbow, that mask so close to your face it's all you can see. Slowly he lifts the knife, the cold pressure gone, and all that remains is a numb feeling and a whole lot of spit. You close your mouth and swallow hard, but freeze when he suddenly reaches out and wipes his fingers over your wet lips, a gentle gesture you haven't expected. He traces your mouth with his thumb, and for a moment you're tempted to pull that stupid mask off and kiss him, deeply, properly, but that's not part of your play, unfortunately.

He stares at you a moment longer before he sits up again, his chest rising and falling almost as heavily as yours. His hands trail down your body, giving your breasts a few more squeezes before he grips your hips and pushes you off him, his mask tilting down as he watches his cock slipping free from your cunt, followed by a large warm dollop of his cum spilling from between your puffy lips. He exhales loudly as he slowly gets off the bed and puts his spent cock away.

“Well, wasn't that fun,” he then says, his low voice a little strained. “Thanks for the ride, Little Red. I'll make sure to recommend you to the others...”

His words should have irritated you, but you're still too fucked-out to care. All you reply with is a soft sigh as you sink back into the bed, finally relaxing into the cushions. You watch him out of hooded eyes as he puts his robe back on, hiding those strong arms, then leans closer once more to pick up his large knife.

And then he's at the door, opening it, letting the light from the hallway spill into the room and over your soiled body. He raises his knife, waving at you almost menacingly, then slips out of the room, closing the door behind him, vanishing like a shadow in the night, leaving you alone in the dark.

You groan and thrash your head back. What a ride indeed. Not how you have planned this party to start, but what's done is done. When you eventually scramble off the bed, bra pushed back over your breasts, your shaking fingers trying to button your blouse, you realize you can't find your panties anywhere. He must have taken them. Fuck. If he wouldn't have pumped you full of his cum, you wouldn't even mind, but as you stand, you can feel it dripping down your leg, warm and sticky.

Sighing deeply, you squeeze your thighs together. Just another reason to finally find that bathroom, you think as you slip out of the room and back onto the hallway full of doors.

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6

YOUR NEXT OPTIONS ARE:

check the door opposite you

go to the end of the hallway

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

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blackenedsnow · 8 days ago

Note

hiii, i hope you’re doing well 🤍 may i please request a hurt comfort with thomas hewitt? it’s up to you what’s the context going to be, i just want a little bit of angst with happy ending of course! much love, anon <333

roots run deep

WARNING: Mild descriptions of injury, emotional hurt/comfort, dark themes

PAIRING: Thomas Hewitt x Reader

NOTE: Hi anon <3 Thank you for such a gentle request, and I’m so glad you’re here! please don’t hesitate to send more like these—they mean so much. sending all my love back to you, take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: When an accident leaves you broken and feeling like a burden, Thomas’s quiet strength becomes your unexpected salvation.

There’s a peculiar peace in pain—one that swallows the world whole, silencing every other thought, reducing everything to that sharp, all-consuming sensation. But today, even in the agony threading through your limbs, there’s no peace, only a hollow ache of shame and something you’re not sure you can face. You feel like a burden. An inconvenience. And with every second that Thomas tends to you, patching your wounds with hands too large and too gentle for this world, that feeling deepens.

It was a stupid mistake—a misstep on uneven ground, sending you crashing down hard enough that you could feel the sickening crunch echo through your bones. You’d always thought you were sturdy, that nothing could break you, but lying here, helpless beneath the careful hands of a man like Thomas, you feel as fragile as glass.

He works in silence, as he always does. The only sounds are the creak of the floorboards beneath his weight, the soft shuffling as he moves around, gathering whatever he thinks will help ease your pain. You can barely look at him, your gaze fixed on the rough, weathered ceiling above as he wraps your ankle in a makeshift bandage, his fingers brushing against your skin with a softness you didn’t know he had.

“Thomas…” Your voice is weak, barely more than a whisper. You want to tell him to stop. To tell him he doesn’t have to go through the trouble, that you’re not worth it. But the words catch in your throat, thick and choking, and you can only lie there, your breaths coming in shallow, trembling gasps.

He pauses, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. You can see the concern in his eyes—a deep, wordless worry that tugs at something inside you, something you’ve tried so hard to bury. He doesn’t say anything; he never does, but there’s an understanding there, a quiet reassurance that fills the silence between you.

He nods once, a slight, almost imperceptible motion, and resumes his work. His hands are steady, unwavering, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Maybe he has. Maybe he’s patched up wounds far worse than yours. Or maybe he just knows what it feels like to hurt, to be broken in ways no one else can see.

You want to say something, to break the silence hanging heavy between you, but you can’t find the words. They tangle and knot in your throat, a mess of emotions you don’t know how to unravel. So you lie there, letting him work, feeling the warmth of his hands seep into your skin, grounding you, tethering you to something solid, something real.

As he finishes, he pulls back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. There’s something in his eyes—a softness, a tenderness that catches you off guard. It’s a look you’ve seen only once before, in a moment so fleeting you’d thought you’d imagined it. But now, seeing it here, with his hands still hovering over you, you know it’s real.

And it terrifies you.

You’re not used to kindness. Not the kind that comes without strings attached, without expectations. It feels foreign, strange, like a language you’ve forgotten how to speak. But Thomas… he doesn’t need words. He never has. His actions speak louder than any words ever could, a silent promise that he’ll be there, that he’ll stay, even when you can’t stand on your own.

“Thank you,” you whisper, the words barely audible, but he hears you. You know he does, because his gaze softens, his hand hovering over yours for a heartbeat before he pulls away, as if he’s afraid to break you further.

There’s a part of you that wants to reach out, to take his hand in yours, to let him know that you’re here, that you see him too. But you don’t. You can’t. The weight of your own shame, your own self-doubt, holds you back, rooting you to the spot.

But Thomas doesn’t push. He doesn’t ask for anything more than you can give. He simply stands, his hulking figure casting a shadow over you, a silent guardian in the dim light of the room. You feel safe here, in his presence, in the steady rhythm of his breathing, in the quiet strength he radiates.

As he turns to leave, you feel a pang of something you can’t quite name—a longing, a need for him to stay, to keep that silence filled with his presence. You don’t want to be alone, not tonight. Not when the weight of your own thoughts threaten to pull you under.

“Thomas,” you call out, your voice barely above a whisper. He stops, turning to look at you, and for a moment, you see something in his eyes—something soft, something vulnerable, something you’ve never seen before.

“Will you… stay?” The words slip out before you can stop them, and you feel your face flush with embarrassment, but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t look at you with pity. He simply nods, a silent agreement, and settles down beside you, his massive form filling the space, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

You sit in silence, the room filled with the soft sounds of our breathing, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace. A sense of belonging. Thomas doesn’t need words to make you feel safe, to make you feel understood. His presence alone is enough, a silent promise that you’re not alone, that you don’t have to carry this weight on your own.

In the quiet, you feel his hand brush against yours, a tentative, hesitant touch, as if he’s afraid to break the fragile peace between you. But you don’t pull away. You let him take your hand, let his warmth seep into you, filling the empty spaces inside you with something you can’t quite name.

It’s love. Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader #the texas chainsaw massacre #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #oneshot

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ramblings-of-a-detrans-woman · 23 days ago

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Why I will never support the radical feminist movement, as a detransitioning woman.

note: this is not meant to be any sort of hit piece or slander, I respect every feminist, even ones I disagree with. This is just my reasoning for why I do not like the radfem movement.

For a bit of context, I’ve indentified as trans since I was 12. At 18, I’ve decided to live my life as a lesbian woman, and i’ve never been happier with that choice.

Now, being a young trans man, I interacted a lot with pro trans content online (of course I did), and so of course I’ve heard about radical feminism. A passionate branch of feminism that takes a unique approach to women’s rights- deconstructing gender entirely. It sounds wonderful in theory, because of course gender is oppressive, most notably of women. I would know, being one. Even when I was trans I had to worry about being out at night. I even got chased once, and a man attempted to lure me to his truck another time. It’s brutal. But radical feminists devote their activism to ending this in a straightforward, logical way.

So why do I, a woman who has experienced both misogyny and transphobia, not support that? I feel that this is a good question for both trans allies and radfems alike to to ask. Knowledge is power.

Well, I’ll be direct. Radfems are some of the most depraved people i’ve ever met. I know, that sounds like a lot, but there’s no other words I can use that don’t perfectly encapsulate my experience with radfems. It’s depravity.

For weeks, I was harassed by transphobic radfems. Radfems, who are insistent on their love and support for TIFs aka trans men. It’s strange then that they would be so cruel towards one, wouldn’t you say?

Detransition is hard enough. It’s difficult to tell family that you were wrong. It’s difficult to reconnect with my gender. Hell, i prefer the term detrans over cis just because i have such a disconnect from my gender. So why do I have to deal with transphobic radfems sending me gore and death threats?

Thankfully all of the accounts doing this seem to be deleted or repurposed. But it’s only a matter of time until a new account is made just to send me an ask telling me to kill myself or a message about how much of a loser i am.

It’s this reason alone why i’ll never be a radfem. They’re just sick people. They don’t want liberation for women, they just hate trans people. It’s not even thinly veiled, their accounts are fully based around how horrible trans women are.

The truth being, trans women aren’t bad people at all. It’s easy to think they are because the news and media cherry picks some of the worst ones, but every community and minority group has bad people in it. some of the sickest people you could imagine, really. yes, they can be trans. but does being trans make you a sick person? does it turn you into a predator? no, it doesn’t. it just means you’re trans. trans or not, it’s up to men to be mature and take accountability for their own actions that they consciously make. a cis man is as capable to walk into a women’s room as a trans woman is.

if radical feminists cared more about women and detrans women, i could consider getting along with them. but sadly, all these passionate and dedicated feminists care about is hating trans people with a fiery passion. and i’ve been a casualty. it’s very difficult for me to sympathize with radfems when they’ve upset me to the point that they have

let me make it clear that gore and death threats don’t upset me, i’m not easily offended. So it’s not the threats that make me angry. It’s just the principle. The fact that radfems are spending their time scrolling reddit for gore pictures to send to fellow women instead of supporting us makes me SICK. it’s heartbreaking to picture a woman, raped and beaten by her boyfriend, and a radfem standing in front of her, readily available to help, but choosing to yell at a passing detrans woman. It’s really sad.

hopefully those reading this can take my words into consideration and use it to improve yourselves or your community (if you’re a radfem). i love womanhood and being a woman and i would love to share that joy with my sisters, but i just can’t when these issues i’ve experienced are in the back of my mind. I want radical feminism to be a safe space, a place where sisters can go to talk to women, relate to women, cry with and support women. but so far, the only love and support i’ve received has been from the trans community. that speaks volumes.

i am going to post more about my experience with finding my womanhood again in the future, so if you’re a detrans woman yourself, trans ally or not, consider following me :) i’d love to build myself a little community

#radical feminist safe #radical feminism #radical feminists do interact #radical feminist community #radical feminists do touch #radical feminists please interact #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radfeminism #radfemblr #radblr #terfsafe #terfblr #detrans #ftm detransition #tw detransition

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psychelis-new · 10 months ago

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pick a pile: "You are..." - Loving and encouraging words for you

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read some loving warm words about you. it's always nice to hear about our positive traits, right? here you can find yours and some encouraging words about your next steps/healing. keep going and take care of you! and also, be ready to let love in, you deserve it :)

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

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pile 1

You are sunny, cheerful, bright and warm. You're also pretty welcoming and you like to hug people or generally enjoy physical displays of affection. I think people like to be around you, you basically cheer up everyone and "set the mood for the evening" (I just heard that, IDK). You have a lovely smile, everyone is in awe with it and you in general; maybe you also have a particular way to laugh? Like you maybe make a strange sound, and everyone is fond of it. They love to make you laugh honestly just to hear it. I feel like you take emotional care of others and you may feel like a sip of fresh water to many. You're extrovert (or at least seem so in specific context), confident and you know exactly what to do or say to make the day of the people you are in contact with. I think you may share smiles with people on the street and even help them if they need (eg. like if they drop something you may pick it up for them, especially for older people or you may leave your seat to them). I think you are very funny and smart, and like to joke a lot. Okay for some of you you may have changed after something happened and keep this sunny side of you a bit hidden (or maybe you occasionally fear being judged about it, or you have been), but honestly I think you only need to reconnect with it and let it flow from you. It's hurtful when some things happen but it's also something that... just happens in life, sadly (I'm not trying to invalidate your experience/pain, at all). We don't have to let those negative things change us so much, especially if we still feel that flame/desire inside. I mean... don't feel guilty for being happy, if that's what you feel. You can be happy no matter what happened. You have to be happy. Find new ways for that happiness to flow within but reach it "and let it rain" out of you. Enjoy it, let it be there and help you heal what hurt as well, if you need. You can find new happiness anytime. New reasons to be happy, too. This is also true for the few of you who tend to hide pain behind a smile, pretending it's all good. Toxic positivity won't solve it, as avoiding problems. Be more balanced (maybe you were called by pile 2 as well) and accepting of what is wrong: it doesn't mean you let it take over you (ask for help if it's too scary), it means you're not being blind to it but you're listening to it and trying to make it better (ofc you can wear a smile while you do that, you totally have to! Healing happens also with taking breaks to enjoy life and hobbies/passions...). You are such a beam of light for everyone, confront your problems (if there's any) and then keep on shining!

song: chicken noodle soup | j-hope; wake me up before you go go | wham! (I channeled the first song while doing your reading, anyway the mood for you is: jitterbug!)

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pile 2

You are strong, pure and very special. You stand out, and honestly you don't even have to do much to stand out. I think it's your energy: it also has something healing for those that comes near you, something comforting. You should be more confident in yourself: maybe you also doubt about your looks or how you may be seen/perceived by others but honestly you have/are nothing less than anyone else. You are caring and have a good heart; maybe you have buildt some walls around yourself out of past traumas, and this is blocking you a little when it comes to sharing with others or creating deeper relationships. It's okay take your time to work through those walls. You have beautiful eyes, and maybe you like to look at others in the eyes too? I think you are also sincere, honest and humble, at times also to a fault: please do stand up for yourself when you need, and set your boundaries. You may also be a bit too strict on you, especially when you make some type of mistakes or something? Maybe it's the fear I mentioned in the beginning of being perceived as you're not or in a bad way, or maybe... at times you may be scared of your thoughts somehow. It's not just the anxiety you may get from them and how they may make you spiral so you tend to stop them (it's okay to do this and distract your mind when you start feeling overwhelmed, but please come back to those thoughts when you feel calmer: to avoid thinking about a problem won't help you solve it at all, it will come back stronger. And please ask for help if you need), but there's also something else. Remind yourself usually the first thought is what we learned, our instinctive first reaction to a situation (usually comes up to "protect us") while the second thought we have is the one that comes from the heart, it really expresses what we think with a calmer and more balanced mind. I mean, eg. let's say someone says they got something you always wanted and this triggers you: your first reaction could also be being envious of them and feel not enough compared to them and potentially say or think something negative/feel resentful or angry, but if you stopped and thought about it again, you may just be really happy for this person and see yourself as on a different path: your time will come too. Be more kind with yourself, more patient: you're unlearning a negative mental pattern and that's not easy, it will take time and practice and lot of patience. You are so lovely you have no idea, please try to see and show that yourself too.

song: a little bit yours | jp saxe (indeed come back to your core self and show yourself love, and accept it too; closing chapters, changing and unlearning stuff is hard, but you can make it)

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pile 3

You are multilayered. You have lovely rosey cheeks, people may want to squeeze them lol. You are sweet and cute, you probably are also a little shy or maybe you feel anxious in social settings and you may end up blushing a lot. You may also be stubborn occasionally (not too bad tbh) and can be determined or at least you reach good results in job/school. I think you tend to hide a part of yourself though or find it hard to deal with it/not like it. There's something you fear showing or that you don't want others to see about you, probably your pain, probably something from your past that you keep inside (also cause you can't accept/understand it -it could be abuse for someone, I hope you are safe now). Maybe you're also "scared"... of being loved/seen for real (having your "mask removed"?) or feeling vulnerable... Your energy feels younger or maybe just unexperienced in some fields or situations (maybe you also feel uncomfortable in some situations or you felt so in the past and you avoided joining them so now you feel a little behind maybe: honestly, there's nothing bad in this. You're not behind, you just did what was better for you and you still have time to make more experiences. You have all the time you need and want). I think there's indeed something about time here, it could be you are nostalgic about something that now you are missing/lacking, maybe feelings you could experience in your childhood, or you want to delete something from your past, or it could be that you fear running out of time, as mentioned, as you want to experience many things still but maybe you are scared you won't make it or you don't know where to start from. Just take a break: the moment you'll feel more grounded, it will come to you. Focus on taking care of you and also do take naps if you need and can. If it's about your childhood, eg. if people taught you have to "grow up" or have dimmed you in any way (or you had to, in order to gain their approval), remember you don't really have to forget about your inner child nor to be someone you're not. You can be an adult and still be in touch with your inner child. It's not that one thing excludes the other. And you can be yourself without any fear (it's hard to believe it but you won't be pushed away by everyone if you aren't as they wish). Maybe your inner child now really needs you to be closer to them, they need your appreciation and support, probably also after something you had to go through in your past: your inner child totally did great back then with all they had. Hug them and show them love. I think some of you may also love to work or be around children or pets as they may help you feel more in touch with your own inner child and more grounded. Again, be attentive to your needs, and meet them: maybe you were *unwillingly* taught you don't deserve that much (you had to accept crumbles in relationships) but it's not so, you deserve the moon: remember this. You're already perfect, there's nothing about you in your past or present that you need to fix, my love. Heal your fears about being yourself, receiving (love in particular) and don't run away from it, don't run away from yourself: you'll get all you wish for. Give it and yourself time. And, if you need this: it wasn't your fault, you were not responsible for that event/decision for which you feel like you were (and maybe you didn't even had to take). Whatever it was. You were trying to win the approval of someone who couldn't love you as you wished. Build boundaries around people (adults) and remember you are not responsible for them and what they do/their mistakes: you're not here to save them from anything. You have your own self and life to care about now.

song: heart attack | demi lovato

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #divination #clairs readings #intuitive readings #psychich readings #tarot readings #tarots #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

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celuere · 3 months ago

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Grading Homework

Context: you try to help Arlecchino grading the children’s homework and run into some obstacles. One of them being modern slang

Content: sfw, use of modern slang, this is a crack fic please don’t take it serious but I couldn’t stop thinking about this after her voiceline in the imaginarium theatre, oh yeah also reader is a fatui researcher (totally not inspired by my oc)

Also something something about Arle having to use reading glasses😩 ALSO PLS SEND IDEAS ETC IN MY INBOX I‘D LOVE TO READ THROUGH THEM!!!! (Read pinned first tho🙏🏼)

„Darling… do you maybe need some help…?“, you placed a hand on her desk as you bent down next to her. Red marker in her hand as she adjusts the position of the reading glasses on top of her nose.

„I‘ve told the children numerous times now to stop using their… extraordinary vernacular in their homework. And here I am trying to decipher this sentence.“, an annoyed huff escapes her lips as she held up the paper for you.

You raised an eyebrow as you took it from her hand. „Surely you must be exaggerating…“, your eyes slowly skimmed over the letters as confusion starts to write itself all over your face. You were by absolutely no means stupid, hell you have a doctorate, you were one of Sumeru Academias best graduates.

But what the fuck.

„What the hell does „gyat“ and… „rizzing up“ even mean?“, now you were the one grabbing after the red marker, setting a big question mark behind the strange sounding words.

„If you think that‘s bad, please have a look at Etienne‘s essay.“, she handed you another paper, your eyes widening at all the red underlined sentences. There wasn’t a single line on this paper where she didn’t write a remark down.

„I… Is… Is that a songtext…? I mean we know Etienne is more on the… special side but… I‘m pretty sure „Gegadigedage“ isn’t even a real word… maybe I should have a look at him…“, it‘s actually not uncommon for you to take care of the children whenever they’re sick or if there might be something going on with them. Maybe he fell onto his head and earned himself a little concussion, you never know.

„No… I don’t think there is something inherently wrong with them. They’re simply just being children but… Celestia above, I just want to grade a single paper without having to look things up in a dictionary.“, believe it or not, the fourth Fatui Harbinger seems troubled for once. Troubled by her children using modern slang. You bit back a laugh at the sheer irony.

Chuckling to yourself, you placed your hands on her shoulders as you gently kissed the top of her head. „Oh poor you… I can technically see the wheels in your head slowing down…“

„Very funny.“, she took off her glasses, „but since you offered your help so nicely earlier…”, she got up from her desk in a swift motion, dropping the stack of papers in your hands as she did so.

Eh?

You merely blinked and she was already at the door of her office „I‘d very much appreciate it if you’d grade these until tomorrow, dear. I really owe you my gratitude, doctor.“, and out she was.

Silence filled the room.

In absolute disbelief you stared at the dark wooden door where she just stood at mere moments ago, the clacking sounds of her heels growing quieter and quieter as if she was in a rush to get out of the house. Slowly, you lowered your eyes to the sheets of papers in your arms.

„You little…“

She simply just waited for the opportunity.

Divorce never sounded so good.

———————

This was actually a lot longer but my tumblr decided to just not- save whatever I was writing in the last paragraphs and I didn’t even remember a single thing from them, I‘ll probably rewrite this later!

#genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino x you #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #crack post #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #albadrabbles

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ak-vintage · 2 months ago

Text

Sins of the Flesh

Pairing: Incubus!Pero Tovar x f!Reader

Summary: After multiple chance encounters with a mysterious stranger, you begin having the most unsettling dreams.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI! PLEASE read the warnings! Spooky, potentially disturbing or triggering for some readers. Inspired by gothic horror. Pero is a literal demon – not a good guy and a certified creep. Stalking behaviors, intimidation, manipulation, the conflation of fear and arousal, implications of somnophilia, masturbation (f), choking in a sexual context, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex.

Word Count: 8.3K

Written for Monster (S)Mash hosted by @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett-writes

Huge thank-you to @kilamonster for her expert beta reading and Spanish translation skills! Love you so much, babe!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Incubus – derived from the Latin incubus (“nightmare”) and incubare (“to lie upon, weigh upon, brood”); a demon in male form that seeks to have sexual intercourse with sleeping women

The first time you notice him, the sun is shining. The haze of late summer still lingers in the air, and the afternoon heat makes sweat bloom in the small of your back, making your blouse cling to your skin as you wait in line at your favorite coffee shop. You had given up on your hair hours ago, piling it up onto the top of your head, and as you stare down at your phone, killing time, you feel a prickle of awareness skate across the bare skin on the back of your neck.

It’s almost like a caress – a real, physical thing – but when you whip around to give whoever had touched you so intimately a piece of your mind, you find…no one. You’re the last person in line at this particular register. There is no one behind you.

Except for him.

Several feet away – much too far to reach you – stands a man, tall and broad-shouldered with long, powerful limbs and dressed head-to-toe in black in spite of the heat. He is leaning heavily back against the far wall, right next to the entrance to the café, and he has his arms crossed over his chest in a gesture that somehow reads as both nonchalant and intimidating. The thought strikes you that he looks almost like a bouncer outside a club, a persona that doesn’t quite fit with the glaring afternoon sun streaming through the windows in this lively, crowded coffee shop.

You feel your brow knit together as you take him in. He’s absurdly handsome, in a rakish, almost dangerous sort of way – all dark hair, dark eyes, dark moustache. He has a scar over his left eye, faintly pink and puckered in a way that splits his eyebrow in two and tugs a bit at the golden tanned skin of his cheekbone, and on his full, slightly downturned mouth plays a knowing little smirk.

He’s too far away to have touched you. You are certain of it. And yet…

Something in his dark eyes flashes as he meets your gaze – like the strike of flint, like the spark of a match. His smirk widens, and you barely notice yourself taking a step toward him.

“Miss. MISS.”

The sound of the harried barista’s voice snaps you out of whatever reverie the strange man had inspired in you, and you spin around to find her staring at you with poorly-disguised exasperation.

The line in front of you has dwindled. You’re next, and you’re so far away from the counter, you might as well not even be in line anymore.

Embarrassment darkening your cheeks, you quickly approach the register with an effusive apology on your tongue, and the mysterious man behind you is forgotten.

That night, a pair of midnight-dark eyes follows you in your dreams – always watching, unblinking, just on the edge of your vision. They disappear when you try to seek them out, and when you gasp yourself awake before the sun rises, you swear you can feel the lingering heat of a broad, thick-fingered hand cupped around the base of your throat.

The clock on your bedside table reads 3:00 AM.

The next time you see him, the sky is a pale gray, overcast and dreary as autumn solidifies its grip on the atmosphere. You’re laden with shopping bags, having spent most of the day galivanting around the city with a friend who is visiting you from out of town, and the two of you decide to make one final stop on the way back to your apartment – a cramped little hidden gem of a used bookshop. Your differing tastes lead you to split up almost immediately upon entering, your friend heading straight for the lit fic while you dive into the fantasy section, and before you know it, you’re several densely-packed aisles away from your companion, tucked into the back corner of the dusty shop and surrounded on all sides by ceiling-high shelves.

It's dim here and almost completely silent, the classical music pumped through a speaker at the front of the store not loud enough to penetrate this far back, but you hardly notice – you’re surrounded by books, and you can’t imagine any place more comfortable. Shuffling your bags from arm to arm, lower lip between your teeth, you thumb through the endless volumes contentedly, happy to browse until something catches your eye.

So absorbed are you in your task that in spite of the quiet, you don’t hear him approach until a low, accented voice brushes your ears from mere inches behind you.

“Might I recommend…this one?”

You startle at the sound and turn to find the same man from the coffee shop – the one with the dangerous smirk and the scar over his eye – hovering just behind you, a well-worn book bound in oxblood leather in his hand. He offers it to you with an arch of his brow, and you find yourself backing into the nearest bookshelf in a futile attempt to put a bit of space between you. The moment you recognize him, it must show on your face, as his smirk morphs into a sharp, white smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Dulzura,” he murmurs, and you feel goosebumps bloom across your skin at the unexpected endearment. “I already have a copy, and I know you’ll enjoy it. Por favor.”

Glancing between his dark, shadowed eyes and the anonymous book in his hand, you reluctantly reach out and take it. The leather is oddly warm beneath your fingers, the thing weightier than it looks, and as you bring it closer to examine it, the faint overhead light glints off the golden, embossed title pressed into the front cover.

Sins of the Flesh.

A lurid flush rises in your cheeks as you glance back up at the strange man, his broad form still lingering a bit too close to you to be polite, and you notice for the first time that he is wearing the exact same outfit he was wearing the last time you saw him in the coffee shop.

“I, uh,” you stammer, your throat suddenly dry. “I haven’t heard of this one.”

He shrugs, tucking his large hands into the pockets of his black jeans. “This does not surprise me, dulzura – it is very old. But you would be astonished at how well it holds up to a more…modern palate.”

Your eyes narrow, and you pray he cannot hear the way your heart has begun to throb against your ribcage, the way your breath has picked up in your chest. Your body cannot decide how it feels about this man, whether it is uneasy or aroused. He’s so close you can smell his cologne, something smokey and metallic and almost aggressively masculine, and you aren’t sure whether you want to tuck your face into his neck and inhale or flee the shop and pray he doesn’t follow.

Instead, you do neither and ask, “W-What’s it about?”

Just like in the coffee shop all those weeks ago, his obsidian eyes flash, and you watch as the tip of his tongue flicks out to wet his plush bottom lip. “Ancient things,” he replies after a moment of tense silence. His accent, warm and gruff, wraps around the words like crushed velvet, and you suppress a shiver. “Magic. Strange creatures. The eternal battle between good – ” He drags his gaze from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back again, settling on your flushed face with a look that is almost predatory. “ – and evil.”

You swallow thickly and clear your throat. Tearing your eyes away from his feels nearly impossible, but you do it, choosing instead to stare at your feet. “I’ll, uh. I’ll have to check it out,” you say noncommittally, praying that your voice doesn’t tremble, praying that he cannot hear the way he has affected you as plainly as you can.

You’re on edge. Deeply uncomfortable. Not quite afraid, but nearly.

And you’re wet.

“As I said, my dear. I know you will enjoy it.”

Your deepest muscles clench, and with a tight, polite smile, you nod. “Thanks for the suggestion. Have a good night.”

His teeth gleam in the dim lighting at that. “I certainly plan to, dulzura,” he murmurs silkily, and every instinct that has been telling you to run from the moment you laid eyes on him is suddenly screaming at you, too loud and intrusive to ignore. You retreat down the aisle as quickly as you can manage, arms still heavy with your many shopping bags that knock clumsily into the shelves as you escape, but you do not let it deter you. You swear you can feel his gaze burning the skin on the back of your neck as you go.

It isn’t until you arrive back at your apartment nearly an hour later that you realize – when you left the shop, you took the book with you.

That night, those coal-black eyes once again haunt your dreams, though this time, they are accompanied by a voice. Low, warm, and lilting with an accent you can’t place, the voice whispers to you. You can’t make out the exact words, but you know they make your heart race and your blood run hot. They sound…possessive. Intimate. Knowing, as though the owner of the voice had reached behind your sternum and cracked open your chest, peaking and prying and assessing every delicate, fragile piece of you.

You feel hands on your throat again, not squeezing, not choking, just holding.

You feel soft lips brushing the underside of your breasts, hot breath dampening your thighs.

You feel a slick, soft tongue tracing the vulnerable crease behind your knees and the throbbing pulse point of your wrists.

When your visiting friend practically yanks you from your sleep, shaking your shoulders and calling your name, you catapult into consciousness drenched in sweat and more aroused than you have ever been in your life. Your hard nipples drag painfully against the soft cotton of your oversized T-shirt, and your panties cling wetly to your pussy lips like a second skin, utterly ruined.

It takes several minutes for you to finally convince your friend that you’re fine, that it was just a nightmare, that it’s okay for her to go back to sleep. She retreats back into your living room with one last concerned glance over her shoulder, and you stifle a sigh of relief as the door shuts behind her.

Alone again, the clock on your nightstand reads 3:08 AM as you shove your hand beneath the waistband of your panties. By 3:10, you are muffling your whines in your pillow as you bring yourself over the edge.

The third time you notice him, you’re lingering under the awning outside your favorite wine bar, hugging the coarse brick of the exterior in an attempt to keep out of the late-night rain as you wait for your ride share. You had planned to meet a date here, a man you had discovered while swiping through your app of choice one night a week or so ago when the weight of your seemingly eternal singlehood had felt particularly poignant. He had been nice enough over text, if a bit bland, but when you had asked him if he had any interest in meeting in person, he had agreed readily.

You had sat at the bar alone for well over an hour, draining one too many glasses of malbec, before you received a single text.

not gonna make it tonite sry

You had promptly unmatched with him and blocked his number. You didn’t have time for that kind of shit.

Now, the ride share app on your phone tells you that your driver is 10 minutes away, and you wish you had thought to wait to give up your seat at the bar until he was a bit closer. As it is, the place is packed. There is nowhere for you to be if you go back inside, so braving the autumnal rain seems to be your only option.

Hair and skin damp, nose running with the chill of the late October night, you wrap your arms protectively around your body as a dark, mysterious figure comes into view down the street. Taking up most of the unoccupied sidewalk with his bulk, he carries a large black golf umbrella, the gunmetal handle gleaming in the watery light of the streetlamps, and he wears a black leather jacket zipped up tight against the cold. The moment he spots you, his handsome features break into a leonine grin, and you feel that familiar pull deep in your gut. The fear laced with desire, the unease stifled by want.

By the time he reaches you, the rain has picked up, and you are no longer protected by the shallow awning. An involuntary shiver wracks your frame, and you aren’t certain whether to blame your rapidly dampening jacket or the shrewd, dark eyes of the man before you.

“Come, dulzura. Join me,” he beckons with an arched brow. The scar over his eye tugs with the gesture, and you notice for the first time that he appears to be wearing eyeliner – a thin layer of kohl darkening his already enviable black lashes. On anyone else, you might find it a bit over-the-top, but on this dark stranger, it only adds to the air of danger surrounding him.

“You will surely melt in all this rain,” he adds when you do not respond. “Let me share my shelter with you.”

You almost obey, almost pull yourself away from the wall behind you and step into his open arms beneath the generous cover of his umbrella. But before you can succumb to the draw of him, a car drives by – too fast for the weather and the late hour – and flings a shower of rainwater up onto the sidewalk, soaking the backs of his calves and drenching your feet. The icy deluge pulls you out of his thrall, and you resist the urge to dig the tips of your fingers into the brick at your back to anchor you there.

“Who are you?” you ask, feeling a brief surge of victory at the steadiness of your voice, the way you manage not to stammer. “What do you want with me?”

This surprises a laugh out of him, the sound dry and low and deep in his chest. “What a question,” he rasps. “Cariño, have you considered that perhaps it is you who wants something from me?”

For the first time in weeks, you recall the dream you had after that day at the bookshop. The dark eyes, the strong hands, the tempting, maddening voice, the way they all had seeped into your pores and flushed through your bloodstream like a drug. You feel your cunt bottom out at the memory, thighs squeezing together in an unconscious search for friction, and you think you ought to be embarrassed by your body’s entirely disproportionate reaction to him. But you aren’t, and that fact alone is enough to have your heart speeding up.

The strange man’s eyes instantly drop from your face to watch your squirm, and his gaze darkens with something akin to hunger.

Swallowing thickly, you reply, “What could I want from you? I don’t even know your name.”

“This is true. But names…names are powerful things.” He shrugs, his full mouth twisting into a knowing smirk as he glances back up at you. “I’m not certain that knowing mine would do much to change the way that your heart is racing right now.”

“My heart isn’t racing.” Your defiant words ring hollow even to your own ears.

He smirks, lip curling his dark, trim mustache, and rumbles, “No? Then why can I hear it from all the way over here, dulzura?” He takes a step forward then, narrowing the distance between you enough that you do reach back and grip the wall, if only to keep your knees steady beneath you. Leaning in close, the wide barrier of his umbrella swallowing you both as it blocks out the night, he whispers, “Why is the scent of you so strong I can practically taste it?

You grit your jaw as a flush finally makes it way to your cheeks. Wetness has begun to gather at the apex of your thighs; you can feel it pooling in your panties, slicking the place that has begun to pulse and throb for him. This man has never touched you while you are conscious, and yet you feel as though your cursed dreams have Pavlov-ed you so thoroughly that all it has taken for you to begin to ache for him is the mere implication of contact.

“Get away from me,” you demand through clenched teeth. The scent of him fills your nostrils – smoke and metal and man. And beneath it all, something unpleasant, something…off.

Is that…sulfur?

“You don’t want me to do that.” His accent colors his words, making them lilt and catch in the damp air as he looms over you. His closeness casts deep shadows across your skin, his broad shoulders and that fucking umbrella smothering the light from the streetlamps, from the nearby intersection, from the entrance to the bar. “In fact, I think you would rather I be much, much closer.”

No, you realize. It’s not sulfur that you smell on his skin, in his hair, on his clothes.

It’s brimstone.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes falling shut as if not being able to see his dark, hypnotic eyes would allow you to hide from them. You don’t know what you’re pleading for anymore. For him to leave you alone? For him to touch you? For him to save you from the torment that was his proximity, his voice, his scent? You think that you might accept any of those things right now; all you know for certain is that you cannot bear this battle of fear and desire he inspires within you for another minute.

You need him to get it over with – to stop with the threats and just hurt you already. Or fuck you and end your suffering. Whichever he chooses, as long as it’s soon.

The man tuts quietly to himself, and for the first time, you feel the touch of a startlingly hot, dry hand brush across the apple of your cheek. You bite back a whimper at the sensation, goosebumps breaking out all across your body, and you fight the insane urge to lean your head into his touch.

“Shh,” he soothes, voice low and gentle. You feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead then across the shell of your ear and down your neck. “There’s no need to beg, sweet thing. I’ll give you what you want.”

You gulp audibly at the promise, and then his hand drops from your cheek to your throat. You can feel your pulse racing against his fingertips, under the pad of his thumb. Just like in your dream, there’s no pressure, no force behind the touch. Just heat, breadth, weight. You feel your jaw drop open, your mouth slacken, your head tilt back like an offering.

You aren’t afraid anymore. You are calm. Obedient. Pliant beneath his hand.

He's so close to you now; you can feel him, the length and the width of him pressing you back against the exterior of the bar. Your knees are weak, your pussy dripping, quivering, begging. Have you ever needed someone as badly as you need him in this moment? It’s like the sensation is too big for your body, too great for your nerve endings to process. You feel weak with it, helpless. If he would just –

A sudden buzzing sensation travels up your arm, and a moment of clarity snaps through your body like a whip. Your eyes fly open, and you gasp like a swimmer emerging from a great depth after a struggle. You have been white-knuckle gripping your phone in your hand this entire time, and your ride share app is now lighting up your screen, filling the dark, narrow space created by the man’s umbrella with piercing light.

Your driver is here. He is waiting for you at the curb.

The dark-haired man smiles at you wryly and takes a step back. “I will, though not now,” he says with a sigh. “Run along now, dulzura. We will see each other again.”

“When?” The question passes your lips before you can reel it back in, and you’re mortified to hear that it sounds whiny and almost petulant. If you had been a small child, such a tone might have been accompanied by a stamp of your foot and a pair of crossed arms.

The man simply leers at you and offers you a rakish wink. “I think you know.”

That night, your dreams lose that blurry, soft-focus lens that has plagued you since the first day you encountered him at the coffee shop. Everything is perfectly clear, almost a little too real, and every sensation is heightened. You’re in your bed, white sheets downy-soft against your skin, the breeze from your ceiling fan tightening your nipples, pulling goosebumps to the surface. The collar of your T-shirt scratches against your throat, and your limbs are restless, tense, eager to move.

And you can feel eyes on you.

You sit up amongst your disheveled bedding, blankets pooling around your waist, and there – standing at the bottom of your bed, big hands wrapped around the rungs of your footboard – is the scarred man. Watching you silently.

“You,” you gasp, hands gripping your sheets, and the man smiles sharply. He looks…different somehow through the eyes of your dreams. A bit wrong.

He’s taller, bigger, bulkier, the shadows around his eyes deeper, his heavy brow more prominent. His teeth look sharp behind his smile, and he wears different clothing than what you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, the palette still all black but distinctly older in style. His shirt is billowy and loose and frayed at the edges, the collar untied and gaping open to reveal a generous glimpse of his strong, tanned neck and muscular chest. His black jeans have been traded for soft-looking black breeches, and you try not to let your eyes linger as you take in the way they pull revealingly over his bulge, leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s not hard (you don’t think), but that fact offers little comfort. He’s huge even without the added swell of blood.

“Me,” he replies. His white canines flash in the low light, his eyes black and hazy. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“I…didn’t know what to expect.”

“Mmm.” He brings one of his hands up to his mouth, brushing his thumb over his lip, tracing his mustache. “How unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” you echo with a frown.

“I had thought you might have figured me out by now,” he says, disappointment coloring his words. “Your attempts to get me to tell you my name earlier had me thinking you had finally put it together.”

You shake your head. “I don’t understand.”

With a pensive hum, the man rounds the foot of your bed and comes to loom over you at your bedside. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves, the smoke and metal and brimstone scent of him nearly overwhelming in this heightened state of awareness. It’s a heady combination, and although you incline your chin to hold his gaze, you can feel your eyelids growing heavy.

“Tell me, dulzura,” he coaxes, his tone sweet, soft, encouraging. “Did you read the book I gave you?”

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you break his gaze, staring down at your hands as they fist the sheets puddled around you.

He reads your reticence so easily; you aren’t sure why you even attempted to be coy. Chuckling low and sinister in his chest, he reaches down and cups your chin in his big, warm fingers and tilts your face back up to look at him. “Oh, you did, didn’t you?”

Your skin burns where he touches you, his hand like a brand on your face. “I…started it, but I couldn’t finish it,” you confess.

“No? Did you not enjoy it?” The mysterious man frowns, eyes roving over your features, reading every flutter of your lashes, every quirk of your lips. It’s deeply unsettling, nearly unnatural, the way he looks at you with such directness, and again, you are hit with the sensation of being examined so deeply and so intimately, it feels almost wrong.

“Oh, I see,” he continues after a long, tense silence. “You enjoyed it too much, didn’t you? Filthy girl. And you wonder why I am so drawn to you. And you to me.”

Mortification rips through you like a lightning strike, and you jerk your chin out of his hold as you gather your blankets up around your chest in a belated gesture of modesty. Of course, the paltry layers of cotton do nothing to shield you from the heat of his stare. Because he’s right, damn him. You had enjoyed the book – a sordid collection of short stories that had to have been written several hundred years ago, judging by the vocabulary and style of prose. Each tale had been more macabre than the last, interspersed with chapters so debauched and decadent that you had found yourself needing to slip your hand into your panties more than once just to be able to go about your day.

Much like the man who had gifted it to you, the book had plagued you. You had found yourself thinking about it constantly, distractedly wishing for your next opportunity to pick it up and lose yourself in whatever grotesque, salacious, bone-chilling story it had for you next. Such an obsession hadn’t been good for you. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to finish it.

If this man is implying that this book was some sort of clue, that the way he affects you is somehow connected to it… Ice slips down your spine at the thought, and you suppress a shiver.

“What are you?” you ask in a trembling voice. “What are you going to do to me?”

The man’s smirk softens into a smile – still just as heated, though not as provoking. You swear you can feel the scorching path of his eyes across your face, down your neck, to your clenched fists and limp sheets. He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, anticipation building in your gut, and then he growls, “I’m going to give you what you want. And, in doing so, take what I need.”

And then the bubble of anticipation bursts, and he is on you – bearing you back into the pillows, rucking up your T-shirt to grip your bare waist with searing hot palms, and sealing his mouth over yours.

His touch is like a balm to your frayed nerves, his kiss a drug. Just like outside the bar, you feel yourself going soft under his hands, your muscles lax, your bones limp. The drag of his fingers up your sides has you arching your back and smushing your aching breasts against his hard, broad chest. Your hands sink into his dark brown curls, keeping his mouth on yours, and it isn’t long before his tongue is prying open your lips and sliding out to meet yours. He tastes like smoke, like musk, and you are overcome with the distinct desire to draw him into you – to inhale him, to drag him down into your lungs and trap his essence inside your chest. Unbidden, your legs begin to twitch and kick, pushing your blanket down around your feet. You need to have your legs around his waist, need to drag him closer. You need it like you need oxygen, and though you know somewhere in the back of your mind that the depth of your desire should frighten you, nothing has ever felt more right.

This moment was inevitable – you know this now. From the moment you locked eyes with him in the coffee shop, you have been on a collision course with this man, this creature that always seems to know how to find you, that stalks your dreams, that corrupts your mind and your body so perfectly you cannot help but welcome it. Resistance is pointless, unthinkable.

Wrenching your lips from his with a whine, you pant into his open mouth, “It’s yours. You can have whatever you want. Please.”

The man above you makes a low noise, something bestial like a snarl, and the sound vibrates through your body at all the points where he touches you. “That’s my girl,” he groans, grinding his hips down into yours. You buck up into the friction as the thick, hard line of his cock makes itself apparent. Firmly, assertively, he drags himself across the soaked gusset of your panties, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing. “Don’t worry – I’m going to make it feel so good for you, dulzura. By the time the sun rises, both of our needs will be sated.”

His mouth moves down to your neck, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive skin beneath your ear. He licks you there, slow and hot, before drawing a bundle of sinew and skin between his lips and sucking. The sensation shoots straight to your core, and you feel your clit throb in time with the pulses of his sucks in a way that has you bowing up into him. You need more – more of his hot hands, more of his slick tongue, more of his rock-hard dick. You need it all, and if he doesn’t give it to you, you are absolutely certain that you will go mad.

Everything goes a bit hazy after that. Soft around the edges, dim, tinged with red and soundtracked by the thunderous pounding of your own heart in your ears. You feel him peel your shirt off your body, the worn cotton threatening to cling to places where you have begun to sweat with your need for him. You feel his lips return to yours briefly before dropping to your breasts, suckling your tight, pebbled nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the tender place where your tits meet your ribcage. You feel his tongue dip into the soft bowl of your navel, making you squirm. And then your panties, long ruined and positively drenched in your slick, pull tight against your hips, and the distant sound of ripping fabric reaches your ears.

He has torn the offending garment clean off your body.

You try to give as good as you are getting, try to meet him touch for touch, but if you are honest with yourself, you are mostly a passive recipient of his passion. No matter how hard you try, you cannot seem to keep your eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, and every time you attempt to take control of the encounter, to pull off his shirt or to guide his mouth with your grip on his head, you find yourself falling back against the mattress, too weak and overcome with pleasure to do anything but allow it to wash over you. You feel as though you are under a spell, utterly in this thrall, your body a slave to the wet of his mouth, the heat of his hands.

You cannot compete with him. You can only surrender.

When his tongue delves into the wet, soft warmth of your sex, you simply moan and spread your thighs as wide as you can manage. When he slicks his tongue over your swollen, puffy clit, you dig your nails into his scalp and wrap your fingers around the short locks of his hair. When he groans your name into your flesh, you do not wonder how he knows it. You just hitch your hips against his face, dragging your cunt across his prominent nose in long, hard thrusts until you fall apart on his face.

It is then – the first time that you come for him – that a part of your mind begins to understand exactly what is happening. The moment your climax floods your body, the most curious feeling tugs at the edge of your awareness. It is as though your pleasure is not confined to your own body. As molten fire races down your spine, as your muscles spasm and your limbs lock and your head falls back on your neck, you get the distinct sensation of all of that energy flushing through your nerves and then slowly, steadily leaking from your pores. You can feel it curl around you, holding you, caressing you, then leaving you, flowing smoothly, easily…into him.

And fuck, does he like it. You watch through bleary, heavy-lidded eyes as his black eyes roll back in his head, as his grip on your thighs tightens almost unbearably, as his shoulders knot and strain with every pulse of your orgasm. He isn’t coming, but it is clear that he feels your ecstasy as if it is his own, and it seems to strengthen and fortify him in a way that you wouldn’t have believed unless you had seen it with your own eyes.

As you come down from your high, you look down between your legs to see him staring back at you. Watching him lick his swollen, pouty lips clean of your glistening slick, you notice that his tongue seems abnormally long – almost too big for his mouth – and shockingly agile. The whites of his eyes have disappeared entirely, leaving only smooth, glossy black behind.

“Have you figured it out yet, dulzura?” he rumbles, and with a chill, you realize that his voice has changed. Whereas before it was rough and rasping, now it is akin to the sound of steel grinding against rock – sharp, multi-tonal, and resonant in a way that has you feeling the vibration of it down to your bones. “Do you know what I am?”

A single word rises through the dense fog of lust clouding your mind, a word you had first learned in a mythology class ages ago but had encountered again recently in that god-forsaken book gifted to you by this very man. It had been your favorite of the short stories you had read, and even though you are still recovering from your climax, your cunt twitches and quivers at the memory of how hard you had come against your own fingers after finishing it.

Incubus.

You can see the moment you put the pieces together in the way his smile widens, and something prideful has him puffing out his chest, drawing himself up to his full height between your spread legs.

“Muy bien, cariño,” he purrs, and damn you if the sound of his praise in that cursed voice from the deep doesn’t have you reaching for him pathetically, trying to pull his body back down onto yours. Your weak, limp flailing has him laughing, and although you know that the sound ought to have frightened you, the chill that wracks your frame is one of arousal, not terror.

“I knew you would get there eventually, you clever thing,” he continues. Reaching one hand behind his neck, he grips the collar of his worn black poet’s shirt and pulls it over his head, leaving him bare-chested.

You can hardly bear to look at him, he is so beautiful – miles and miles of muscle, golden tan skin, and the finest dusting of dark hair trailing from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his breeches. There is nothing sharp or defined about him, not like the male models you are accustomed to seeing on billboards or the fashion brand fliers you get unsolicited in your mailbox. He is built like a warrior of old, like a figure out of a fairytale – thick, strong, powerful. You could easily see him in a shirt of chainmail, wielding a sword in battle, returning slicked in the blood of the enemy, crowing with victory.

You wonder, for the first time, whether this is his true form or if he has tailored his appearance to specifically appeal to your sensibilities. Does he know the way you have always swooned over the heroic figures of your story books? Has he fashioned himself to look like he just walked out of one? You should not find the idea touching, and yet…

And you were right in your earlier assessment – he is bigger here in this place that is not quite consciousness and not quite sleep. His size would be striking in the real world; heads would turn as he strolled down the sidewalk; you were sure of it. The thought has your throat going dry. You didn’t often have the opportunity to feel small or delicate in your daily life, but with his imposing form looming over you in the dark, you feel fragile in a way that has you blushing from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes.

The burn of your flush only intensifies as his hands drop to his breeches, and with quick, dexterous fingers, he undoes the line of silver buttons that hold them shut.

“Are you ready for me, dulzura?” he asks. His cock springs forward as he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushes them down off his hips. The sight has saliva pooling in your mouth, and you lick your lips unconsciously as you take him in – dense, dark curls, thick shaft, swollen, red tip glistening with his own arousal. He’s big – almost too big, bigger than you’ve ever taken – and you find yourself sending a quick prayer to whoever will listen that the…logistics of what is about to happen are more forgiving in this dream world than they would be in reality.

It's as though he can hear your thoughts. The moment the silent prayer passes through your mind, he looses a wicked snarl and wraps his fingers tightly around your knees. He drags you bodily across the bed, pulling you so close to him that your ass presses to the front of his thighs, and when you are close enough, he drops onto his palms above you to stare directly into your eyes.

“Silence!” he hisses, and for the first time since his lips collided with yours, you feel a bolt of fear zip down your spine. The scent of brimstone thickens in the air around you, and between your legs, the slick, blunt tip of his cock presses insistently against your throbbing entrance. He notches himself into you with a swift dip of his hips, and you cannot silence the moan that rips its way out of your chest at the stretch.

“You will find no gods here, nena. Here, there is only me. And I am not finished wringing every – ” He thrusts deeper into you, feeding his cock to you inch by agonizing inch. “ – last – ” Deeper still, you feel your walls parting, softening, spreading for him, making room for his length inside your aching cunt. “ – ounce of pleasure from your sweet little body. Ahora. Dámelo.”

And then the haze returns, and you are overcome.

He is relentless, unforgiving, almost animalistic in the way he fucks you. Distantly, you register the sound of your own rhythmic whines and whimpers – ah! ah! ah! – every time he bottoms out inside you, but you cannot bring yourself to feel self-conscious. With every thrust, he overwhelms your senses. You have never felt so full, so stretched. You have never experienced anything like the way his cock drags against your walls, the way he presses and kneads on every sensitive spot as though you had given him a map to them all. That combined with his low grunts, his filthy words, and his lips sucking dark, tender bruises all across your neck and chest have you capitulating embarrassingly fast. All you seem to be able to do is grip his wrists on either side of your head and hold on while he fucks the life from you.

“Eso es, dulzura,” he growls. “Know you want it. Know you need it. Needed it for so long – weeks and weeks, huh, nena? S’okay. Es tuyo. Sólo tómalo.”

Deep within your abdomen, you can feel it growing. It burns – like lava, like lightning, and shit, it’s so fucking tight. Like a spring, it coils, winding around and around as he pounds you into the mattress. It won’t be long now; you can already tell. He is going to make you come, and it’s going to happen pathetically quickly.

Again, as though he registers your thoughts, the incubus chuckles sinisterly to himself and gives you a cheeky wink. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking hard and then trapping it between his teeth, and the sharpness of the sensation bolts straight to your clit.

“Fuck!” you gasp, arching into him, grinding your clit against his pubic bone as he continues to thrust inside you. “God, please – ”

One of his hands flies to your throat, and before you can react, you feel firm pressure on either side of your neck, squeezing your pulse points, making your brain go soft and fuzzy almost instantly. “What did I say, dulzura?” the creature snaps, and you think you see the angles on his face get sharper, his mouth get wider, his brow get more deeper and heavier. “God isn’t here. He can’t save you now.”

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, your fingers wrapping instinctually around his wrist. You think you want him to let you go, but at the same time, it feels so good – floaty and hot and almost euphoric as he continues fucking you. “I won’t say it again, I swear!”

“Good,” he snarls. His hand lets up from around your neck, and the rush of blood to your head has you sucking in oxygen and moaning long and loud. “The only thing I want to hear coming out of your mouth while I fuck you is ‘yes’ and ‘more.’ Understand?”

You nod hard, eyes rolling back in your head as he switches up the angle of his thrusts, this one somehow even better than the last. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Good girl. Ahora, déjame sentirte.” Dropping one of his hands down to where you are joined, he swirls your dripping wetness in firm, steady circles around your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Come for me.”

As though your body is his to command, you do exactly as he says. Hands flying to his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin, knees hitching up around his hips to drag him closer, you careen over the edge with a shout.

Just like the first time, the energy of your pleasure leaving your body is a physical thing. It lingers long enough for you to feel it, for you to luxuriate in it, and then it passes through your skin into his, and this time, you feel him receive it. His body ripples under your grip, his muscles spasming, his skin trembling, his cock somehow swelling even more inside the warm, wet clutch of your cunt. That is all it takes for him to join you in your rapture. With a few final, frenzied thrusts, you feel him twitch and seize inside you, and a hot rush of cum fills you so thoroughly that you can feel it leaking out around him, dripping down your ass to pool beneath you on the sheets.

“Dulzura,” he murmurs into your collarbone, the tip of his hooked nose tracing delicately across your skin as he comes down from his high. “Eres tan perfecta. You did so well. You knew exactly what I needed, didn’t you? Tan buena.”

The two of you lay like that for some time, you smothered against the mattress with his body weighing heavily on top of yours, his slowly softening cock still wedged inside you, his face buried against your neck. Absently, you run your fingers through his hair, and you notice that in spite of the exertion, he has not sweat at all. Perhaps not the most bizarre thing you have learned about him tonight, but you make note of it, nonetheless.

“The ecstasy you have gifted me tonight will keep me nourished for a long while,” he says after a time. He drops a wet, sloppy kiss onto the underside of your jaw. “You have my gratitude.”

The sentiment has you snapping to awareness, the fog of sex suddenly clearing almost instantly. Pulling back to meet his gaze, you find a warped version of the face you have come to know staring back at you. Had you not already figured out that he was a demon, his appearance now would have given it away – flat, black eyes, prominent brow, sharp cheekbones, large, pointed ears, a wider mouth, sharp, vicious teeth. He is the same man you met in the coffee shop all those weeks ago, and yet he is also very much not. You think, perhaps, that that ought to frighten you, but you feel no fear. Instead, you are struck with the realization he seems to have gotten what he wants from you.

You may never see him again.

“So,” you whisper, throat dry, voice hoarse from overuse, “that’s it, then?”

The incubus frowns. “Does that displease you?”

…Does it?

“…I suppose it does.”

His frown dissolves then, and he draws himself back up onto his knees, hovering over you with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell me my dulzura is going to miss me,” he taunts, and your cheeks burn.

“I’m not going to miss you,” you reply quickly, careful to keep your tone indifferent. “I’m just saying, maybe the next time you need to…feed, you could…” You shrug, your flush deepening. “You could find me again. Now that I know what you need, you know.”

The wicked smirk on his face eases as he takes in the sincerity in your words and instead melts into something that looks suspiciously like fondness. “Bold little thing,” he purrs. “I like that. Perhaps I shall. But until then…” He reaches out and brushes the tips of his fingers across your eyelids, closing them with a delicate touch. “Rest. Sleep. You have earned it, sweet girl.”

Just as with your orgasm, it is as though his words have command over your body. The moment your eyes flutter closed, the world around you falls away, his touch dissolves on your skin, and you slip into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When you wake, the sun is streaming through the gaps in your curtains, casting soft, warm columns of light across your sheets. You glance over at the clock on your bedside table and find that you have slept in much later than usual, though where normally you might feel guilt for this, instead you simply feel sated. You cannot say when you have last had a more restful night of sleep. You feel entirely refreshed.

Stretching luxuriously against your pillows, you take stock of your body. You’re surprised to find that your T-shirt has made its way back onto your body, and with a frown, you notice that you are still wearing the cotton panties you had gone to sleep in the night before. They cling to your body wetly, the sensation cold and a bit unpleasant, but as you run your fingers over the fabric, you confirm that they appear to never have been ripped – they are just as whole as when you had pulled them on.

You find no soreness between your legs, no sign of the vigorous, almost violent activities of the night before. Peeling back your blankets, you lift up your shirt to scan your skin, and you find no trace of the dark purple marks the creature had left behind with his mouth. Your body is entirely unmarred. It is as though nothing had even happened, and you would be lying if you said you were not a little disappointed by this turn of events. A part of you had been looking forward to feeling the ache of him today, to seeing the evidence of his touch on your skin. You feel as though you have been denied any souvenirs of your encounter, and you aren’t sure what to make of the hollowness that echoes in your chest at the realization.

However, before you have the opportunity to feel too melancholy about it, a dark shape lurking at the edge of your vision catches your eye.

You immediately roll over to face it, thinking for a wild moment that it might have been him, that he might have already come back for you. But instead, all you find is that leather-bound book, Sins of the Flesh, resting conspicuously on the other pillow next to you.

You certainly did not leave it there when you went to bed. It had been tucked away in the bottom drawer of your bedside table for weeks.

Reaching out with tentative fingers, you run your hand over the soft, worn cover of the book, and once again, you are struck by the sensation of warmth emanating from the oxblood leather. You feel a tug deep in your abdomen, an urge you can’t quite name, but suddenly you know that you are meant to open it. With a frown, you pick up the book and flip open the cover before you can consider it further.

There, on the cover page, directly below the gothic typeset of the title, you notice a detail that you have never seen before. A name written in an archaic-looking script, inked in watery black as though from the tip of a quill.

Pero Tovar

A rush of satisfaction passes over you even as the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The demon had given you his name.

#monstersmash24 #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x you #the great wall #pero tovar fanfiction #the great wall fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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cxvii666 · 16 days ago

Text

WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS?!

cw: recreational drug use, bad language, reader is a dealer (loosely based on my last encounter with a fem plug), idiots in love, 21st century love at first sight,

- eventually will be a multi part fic im prolly gonna upload on ao3 but for now standalone

(i make myself laugh)

it's all denki's fault.

i mean it's normally denki's fault, (with a mixture of himself, kirishima, and mina, depending on the context, the situation, or, who bakugou is most mad at), but this time, it is DEFINITELY ALL DENKI'S FAULT.

"dude cmonnnnn. i already promised everyone i'd score for the party."

trust denki kaminari to make promises he can't keep.

so this is where hanta sero ends up, on the corner of the road, in miserable weather, freezing his ass off, waiting for this dealer. it's just gone half ten and hanta's not a fool, so when he saw the "i'll be der for 10" message pop up on his phone, he didn't leave his dorm till quarter past. but now his vape is dead, his phone is on like 10%, and his fingertips are cold, so yeah, he's a little bit pissed off. pissed at himself for not buying a new geek bar, pissed at denki for begging and whining and promising to 'let him have first draw', and pissed at this dickhead for taking their sweet time.

it's a new guy, the dealer. well at least, the number denki gave him was different than usual and their style of texting was nothing like the guy he usually picks up from. hanta likes to think he's relatively chill dude, but if this fucker, who charges even more for a 3.5, doesn't hurry up, he's gonna crash out.

after another slow ten minutes and another "yh man im almost there" text, a car finally pulls up in front of him. he stamps out what's left of his roll up and pushes himself off the fence he was leaning on as the car window slides down.

hanta fumbles and nearly drops his phone out of his hands when he sees you, sat in the drivers seat.

pretty half lidded eyes stare at him, he thinks he hears kendrick playing from your aux but he can't be sure because he's so caught up in you. fingers tapping rhythmically against the wheel, you look up at him through your lashes and call out slow and tired,

"sero, yeah?"

and, oh my god, his family name has never sounded better than it did coming from your plush lips.

he nods dumbly before realising that you probably can't see him very well in the dim lighting of the side road. "yeah. yeah, that's me," he coughs out, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

you face breaks out into a shy smile directly contrasting the cold stare down you'd be giving him before unlocking the car.

"omg, cool! sorry for making you wait so long! i know it's cold, d'you wanna hop in the passage seat rq?" and hanta doesn't even have time to internally debate the pros and cons of getting into a complete strangers car, because his feet are already carrying him across the road and into your front seat.

as he settles into your passenger seat, you slide your chair back the slightest and start rummaging around in a clearly well loved black leather handbag. hanta tries to still, or at least calm, his beating heart. you look strangely familiar, like he's met you in a dream or something. he takes a deep breath and remarks how your car smells faintly of oranges and you begin, "so who gave you my number?"

"kaminari-"

"wow" you laugh, your top lip curling slightly, teeth showing, hanta thinks your so pretty, "you know kaminari? damn, that guy's in my prac maths class and he's-"

suddenly hanta cringes internally, mind flashing back to a scene, maybe a couple days ago, of him and denki hitting blinkers at the bus shelter outside campus, talking about something stupid, them joking about hanta's apparent lack of game (which is not true at all), and denki saying something about some pretty girl in his class who he smokes with sometimes and, in his words, was, 'exactly y'er type bro'.

"he's one of my roommates." is all he says though his lazy smile tenses slightly, no way denki planned this, right?

you hardly notice, rambling about your maths module, and the lack of work that got done between the two of you. you're trying to keep your voice even and not take too many glances at the hot guy, sero hanta, kaminari's cute roommate, who you had instagram stalked literally on the way over, while you were stuck in traffic, because you'd seen him on the blonde's story. it was some badly taken photo of a group of four guys all sat on top of each other on the same couch, two of them laughing, four beers and an open pack of amber leaf on the table. but sero, cheesing at the camera, sat on the thigh of a different blonde who seemed literal seconds away from punching his lights out, had caught your eye.

so to have him here, in your car, right next to you. so close you could practically smell him, and he smelt gooood, the standard stoner boy scent that you expected but with a mix of something spicy, lord-

when you finally look up to him from where you've been digging in your bag, phone in hand, hanta shuffles with the dead vape in his pocket trying to make it less obvious he'd spent the better part of five minutes just staring at you.

"speak of the devil." you shake your phone at hanta to take and on the screen is a recent chat between you and his best friend as well as a snap of him clearly drunk yelling at the camera from five- five minutes ago??

"he's so unserious." you laugh again, and take your phone back from hanta typing out a quick response then clicking your phone off. "you wanted an eighth yeah?"

hanta nods dumbly, still kinda shocked that denki pulled this off without him realising, and you pull out a little plastic bag with a couple nuggets inside and hand it to him.

he goes to grab the cash in pocket but you stop him with a gentle arm to his shoulder.

you drop your arm quick enough, overthinking your next actions but say anyway, "don't worry 'bout this one, yeah-"

"-what? nah 's fine i've got cash," he trails off, you're looking at him, beautiful wide eyes.

"no i've already made up my mind," you grin slowly at his slightly flustered state and for a moment neither of you talk. the song has long sinced changed and your radio is now playing an old rnb track he doesn't recognise but he finds himself relaxed in your presence.

"besides, i made you wait for so long, and," you continue quickly, your smile even wider, as hanta fixes his mouth to complain. "you're a friend of a friend, right?"

when he finally makes his way back to the party, denki's there, cheesing like an idiot, and when bakugou asks why he took forever, and he parrots him "yeah, sero, what took you so long?" slick as shit, hanta can't even bring himself to be pissed.

yeah it was denki's fault, but the weight of your number, your actual number, with your first name and a '<3' next to it, in his phone makes it worth it.

he throws the little baggie to his 'friend' and steals a vape off the table.

"dude stfu or i'm never picking up for you again."

#sero hanta x reader #sero hanta #hanta sero x reader #SERO HANTA MY GLORIOUS UNDERRATED KING #mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #denki kaminari x reader #mha #mha college au #mha smau #ten writes trash #sero hanta x black reader

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bloodiedrogue · 1 year ago

Text

GO SLOW (12)

SUMMARY: Astarion figures out some hard truths. Also some easy ones.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,665

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2, depictions of a panic attack, brief mentions of past (sexual) abuse.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: SURPRISE SHAWTY!! Because I was home sick all day and now I'm apparently busy the rest of the week you get the chapter now! Hopefully you like it. :')

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

You’re meant to be focused on the relic —on its discovery and retrieval and potential handoff depending on the item in question. As you walk across the cobblestone, tightly gripping the moonlit lantern, you’re well aware that you more than likely look a bit distracted. Lost in a world of your own as you glance around, knowing you should concentrate instead of allowing your head to fill with thoughts of him.

Embarrassingly though, you can’t help it. Not now, when Astarion’s practically glued to your side, brushing his arm against yours with every step. It’s distracting, to say the least. Creating a mess of thoughts within your mind. Shifting in and out of reality, you find it increasingly difficult to pretend you’re anything but elated over your previous private conversation.

As you continue your journey, feeling the coolness of his hand haphazardly make contact with your own, your heart swells twice its original size at the mere memory. How his voice, so simple and sweet, told you he loved you. Even now, hours later, you can hear it clear as day, echoing through the cavern of your skull. Taking its hold with each passing moment; enveloping you in a warmth like any other, laying a heated waste to every thought that may try to penetrate.

If you’re honest, it makes you feel a bit guilty knowing that the rest of the group is most likely feeling more anxious than anything else. Resembling a cluster of bundled nerves, trudging through the darkness, wondering what might be next, it’s as if you’re the only one struggling with something else.

Fully looking at Astarion, you can see the attentive scowl that rests across his face to prove this. The ever so slightly upturned nose, wrinkling in disgust at the rotting trees that line your vision. The angrily knitted brow that pushes together, revealing a lack of enjoyment as the shadows dance around the lantern. Even the frown that graces his lips appears almost too engrossed with the task at hand, making you realize that, despite your shared feelings, he’s more present than you are.

Upon realizing this, you force yourself away. Taking a half-step from his frame, you shake all thoughts of him, replacing them with whatever observation you find in front of you. Like the sound of a crow echoing through the air or the heavy wisps of wind that hit your ears a little too hard or the looming figure leaning on a nearby epitaph—

All of you stop in your tracks, watching as it emerges from the fog to reveal a smug looking Raphael sauntering towards you.

Greeting you with interest, despite the obvious lack of trust for one another, his eyes scan the line of your bodies, lingering on each for a moment before ultimately falling to you, smirking. “Through the dark he went creeping and awoke what was sleeping…”

His voice makes you shiver as he begins to recite some sort of riddle, reminding you of your previous conversation. The one where he threateningly spoke of his aid being the only way to release you from the tadpole's grasp. Assuring that with time you’d seek him out again despite all of you agreeing otherwise.

Even though the context of the conversation seems completely different, you assume it’s the same reason he’s here now, standing before you, rambling on about some terrifying creature through obnoxious prose. More than likely, he’s here to offer you yet another deal —another contract you know will only end in further misery if you so choose to agree to it.

It’s all devils like him seem to do.

“Strange way to warn us about something,” you comment when he’s finished, raising your brow as he chuckles under his breath.

“Well, you know, I’ve grown quite fond of you —in my own way.”

To your right, Karlach groans. “Is there an actual point to this fucking riddle or is this another opening to one of your shitty dealings?”

In response, Raphael tuts in her direction, subtly shaking his head as the grin across his lips only grows. “Such poor manners, tiefling. You’d think Zariel would’ve taught you better.”

Immediately, Karlach takes a step forward, her jaw clenching just as you and Gale hold her back, both of you staring with pleading eyes for her to calm down.

“And here I thought after all this time apart you might miss me.” Regardless of the obvious threat, he flashes all of you a fake frown, pouting his lips for a moment before changing the mood with another laugh. “No matter. I’m merely here to warn you of the dangers ahead.”

“Dangers?”

This time it’s Shadowheart who speaks, her tone quiet —cautious in the way that Karlach’s fails to be, causing Raphael to nod before going into some long-winded tale of a darkened stage with tired actors. Ones that, if awakened, will cause a great calamity.

Or, so he says. With Raphael, it’s hard to trust what’s being embellished and what’s not with the way he speaks, moving his hands through the air while he rhymes. Sure, there’s a bit of eloquence to the whole thing —an air of intrigue to his tales but ultimately, it only makes you and the others frustrated. Skeptical. A lack of trust rising through the air as he continues, pivoting the conversation to a lurking shadow.

Apparently, it’s of Infernal descent, something that piques both you and Astarion’s interest, sharing a look. As Raphael speaks, telling you to kill the creature before it can be released upon the rest of the world, your tadpole vies for your attention. Squirming violently, it makes you cringe with discomfort, trying your best not to let it show as you allow the call to enter your mind.

We should ask him about the scars.

For a moment you disagree. With Raphael being a devil and all, it’s almost certain that if you ask him a question he’ll only offer a bargain in return. Something big and shiny but worth hardly anything in the long run. But then you remember the timing. The lack of minutes and hours and days you may have left. Already you’re running on borrowed time and you can tell that Astarion’s desperate. Struggling to come to terms with the fact that at the end of all this, he might not get the ending you both believe he deserves.

Because of this, instead of denying you merely nod your head, making quick eye contact just as Raphael finishes his tale, using the short moment of silence to pivot the conversation.

“Now, enough about all that,” he says, waving his hand in the air. “Let’s talk about you. I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”

When his gaze hits Astarion’s face it’s as if the whole party turns defensive. Narrowing their eyes, their bodies instinctively lean towards Astarion, making sure it’s known that any sort of threat will not go unnoticed.

It makes Astarion puff up triumphantly as he clears his throat, glancing back at all of you with hidden thanks before returning his attention to Raphael. “I do. I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

“Yes.”

Chuckling darkly, you see Raphael shift. “If this has anything to do with you wanting to taste my blood, I can assure you vampling it’s hardly worth it.”

As you roll your eyes, Astarion scoffs. “This is serious, devil,” he retorts, a rather crisp bite to his tone despite who he’s talking to. “I have this scar —this eyesore of a creation carved rather deeply into my back. Someone wrote it all in Infernal and considering I’m neither devil nor demon I obviously can’t read the damned thing.”

Instead of responding, all Raphael does is hum. Low and slow, he takes his time mulling over Astarion’s words, stroking his chin most likely for dramatics as he paces the path, making you frown.

“Can you help him or not, Raphael?”

When you speak, he looks at you with offence. As if interrupting his thought process is a fate worse than death, prompting you to swallow in regret, trying not to look scared. Even though that’s exactly what you are.

Considering you don’t trust him in the slightest, watching Astarion so easily ask for this devil’s aid makes you anything but calm. In your mind, you can feel the anxiety brewing like a storm. Threatening to strike you down at a moment’s notice as this hellish creature disguised as nothing more than just a man, scolds you for your lack of patience.

“It’s something very important to your master,” he then says, smirking at Astarion —pulling him in with tempting words and more theatrics. “But what is it? A love letter perhaps? A warning of your impending room? A contract of ownership maybe?”

Every example he lists off makes you more and more uncomfortable, your stomach churning at the prospect of Astarion’s scars meaning anything at all.

“I could give you all the gory details. For a price, of course.”

As expected, Astarion sighs and looks towards you, searching your face for signs of reluctance only to find support.

“And what’s your price?”

Without hesitation, he tells you he wants the aforementioned creature dead. Slain on sight so that he no longer has to think about it. To which Astarion looks at him a bit confused, wondering how such a simple task could be deemed worth its weight in information. Especially when taking into account all the slaying you’ve all done already.

“Really? That’s your price?”

Raphael nods —humming again but this time in acknowledgement. “You slay the best and I tell you all about those beautifully crafted etchings. Sound good?”

It doesn’t. Not in the slightest. But regardless Astarion merely nods, prompting Raphael to finish his end of the conversation, telling you he’ll be in touch before evaporating into a thick fog of smoke.

As soon as he’s gone you can feel the breath returning to your chest. All the past anxieties slipping into something a bit more manageable as you reach for Astarion’s arm, earning yourself a look of frustration that everyone else opts to ignore.

“You okay?”

You see him swallow as he looks away, turning his attention to the entrance of the mausoleum you now find yourselves in front of. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, but are you okay?”

It’s obvious then he doesn’t know how to answer. Now that he’s one step closer to finding out the truth of this thing that’s haunted him for so long, you can tell he’s nervous. Apprehensive in a way that has him debating whether or not he truly wants to know. You can see it plainly in his eyes —the way they dart around in circles, searching for something neither of you has the answers to.

Sensing this, the rest of the party moves ahead silently, glancing at you from afar as they stop at the run-down building’s entrance, allowing you a moment to yourselves.

“It’s a lot to take in,” you remind him then, squeezing his arm.

Beneath your touch he tenses, signalling you to pull away as quickly as you can, fearing he may not like it.

“There’s always something in the way, isn’t there?” he grumbles, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Sighing, you nod your head. “Unfortunately.”

“I mean, honestly, you’d think for once the universe would allow me a moment of goddamn peace but no, I have to work for it —to become a slave and do the bidding of someone else yet again!”

His frustrations are rational. Justifiable even, when you take into account all that he’s suffered. After everything, he deserves to be thrown some kind of bone. Even one as little as this, and more than anything you wish you could do that for him.

Instead of merely supporting him on yet another perilous journey to earn the bare minimum you wish you could give him everything. The key to his past —the gift of his future. If you could, anything and everything under the sun would be plucked from its rightful place and put into his open hand without a second thought. You’d will the stars to fall without warning if he wanted them. Lasso the moon and drag it down just so he could see it clearer each night. Hell, you’d even rip the sky itself down if it meant you could prove to him just how much he deserves.

Unfortunately, though, you’re not nearly powerful enough to do anything like that, so instead you merely set the lantern down on the ground and offer your hand. Palm up into the air, you shove it between you with a sombre smile, watching Astarion glance between it and your face, inevitably taking it.

“I don’t need your pity, you know.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Fine, your sympathies then.”

“Alright.”

A part of you knows he’s being stubborn just to guard himself. A tactic he often uses so that his vulnerabilities may remain hidden. It’s something you’re often guilty of yourself —avoiding conflicts in the form of jokes or comments said only to distract.

Unfortunately, because of this, it means that you can see right through him. As you move your other hand to flip over his, trailing patterns across the lines of his palm, you can feel the fear that strikes his heart. The thoughts inside his head pulsating with all the potentials of where this newfound information can lead you.

Neither of you know, but it’s apparent then that regardless of what it is, it easily has the ability to change the trajectory of everything. Depending on the severity, the more unwilling you know Astarion will be to continue with the group. If it’s dire, more than likely, he’ll try to venture off on his own to solve the issue. Especially if it results in enacting some form of revenge.

Because despite his growing fondness for the group you find yourselves in, he’s still Astarion at his core. And you know that means there’s an inherent selfishness that sits dormant, waiting for the right moment to abandon the world to get what he wants.

You don’t blame him for it. Not after everything he’s been through. Not after countless years of seduction and starvation and a solitude meant only for the dead. At the bare minimum, he deserves the chance to erase all of that in the form of raw revenge. Whether it’s through betrayal or murder or whatever may linger in between.

Regardless of all that, he deserves closure. Even in its impurest form, he’s earned the right to do whatever the fuck he wants because it’s his choice. His decision. If he wants to leave —to abandon the party for greater things, so be it. You won’t stop him. However, you will offer him your hand.

“I’m with you. Whatever happens.”

As you speak, you continue to stroke his hand, repeating the routes of your index finger over and over again until you can feel him relax in your palm. Until you know that the frustrations that he feels are pushing themselves to the back of his mind, making way for your presence.

“It’s rather foolish of you, you know.”

You raise your brow at him.

“To fall for a vampire. To promise him things you may not be able to fulfill.”

Despite knowing he’s right you merely smile and look back down at his hand. “I never claimed to be smart, did I?”

“No, I suppose not.”

You move your thumb across his palm, gripping it gently with your other hand as you pull it up to your face. “I’m pretty good with a sword though,” you offer, kissing the centre, feeling it curl around your chin, his own thumb trail past your cheek.

“I know, I’ve seen you.”

“So you’re aware of my talents.”

He snorts and leans in without another word, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that has you humming against him until suddenly it’s over far quicker than you’d like.

“You know, the plan was never to have this happen.”

His hand remains firmly on your chin. Thumbing your bottom lip it pushes it down to reveal your teeth before springing back up when he moves his digit elsewhere.

“Have what happen?”

“This,” he says. “Us. We —I was meant to merely seduce you. Manipulate you into trusting me so that you’d never turn on me.”

There’s an awkward pause that quickly fills with nervous laughter. Ripping through his throat, it’s there and gone before you can even react to it, making you swallow hard as he continues his confession, telling you how easy it was supposed to be. How instinctive it felt to flirt with the idea of you while you fully fell for his charms.

“All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you,” he tells you, earnestly —looking at you with eyes so heavily filled with guilt that, as he confesses further, all you can do is stand there, panicking. Praying to whatever Gods may hear you that at the end of this, he doesn’t retract all the words he previously said just to spare you from helping him accomplish the impossible.

“I swear if you—“

“That’s where my plan fell apart, you know,” he cuts you off, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “When I realized how incredible you are. How caring and funny and—and smart you are. I didn’t stand a chance. Not with the way you take the time to listen. Or the way you defend my honour even though I never ask. Or how you have the ability to make me smile when all I want to do is scream.”

All you can feel is the breath of his words hitting your face. The sensation of air pluming across your skin, forcing you to blink and breathe and carry on as silently as possible.

“You deserve to have the kind of love you selflessly offer me every day.”

Slowly, his hands move to cup either side of your face, pulling you further in despite how close you already are.

“I want to give you that —to give you something real. But I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to do that.”

There’s a part of you that feels like you’re shattering then, hearing those last few words, unaware of the implication. Considering it’s such an open statement, as you remain still beneath his touch, trying to explore his face for clues, the only thing you can think of is the worst. How instead of loving you, he’ll leave and die by Cazador’s hand. How as a result you’ll be one member short and fall to the Absolute. How everything will have been for nothing.

Breathing hard, you assume his next few words will be the worst words you’ll ever hear, so when he eventually opens his mouth, preparing to speak further, you can’t help but close your eyes.

“Being close to someone —experiencing intimacy— it’s something I did to lure people in for him, so it’s tainted in a way. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing, despite what we have being different,” he confesses, forcing your eyes to reopen and see the almost wild look in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to be with someone else. How to offer them what they need —how to let them in the way I know I should. No matter how hard I try.”

At that point, it feels like he’s searching for answers. Begging for you to tell him what to do next —knowing it’s all he’s ever known.

Because of this, all you do is offer him a smile, reaching up to grab his face back, tentatively feeling the skin through the nerves that shake beneath the pads of your fingers. “So, what happens next?”

“Next?”

You nod, watching his expression change, telling you he doesn’t quite understand the question as he blinks back tears, glancing away while clearing his throat.

“I, uh, I suppose I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve had to decide what I wanted.”

“That’s okay.”

He opens his mouth to respond but all that comes out is a soft crackling of sound, signalling even more uncertainty until he’s pulling away and avoiding your gaze, panicking at the prospect of having to choose. A newfound agitation flowing throughout his features as you attempt to call him back in, whispering his name like a prayer.

At first, he’s completely hostile, pushing air rapidly through his nose as his eyes flicker through the trees. At one point he wobbles from side to side, shifting the weight of his feet so carelessly that you move your hands in front of you, waiting for him to drop.

Thankfully, he doesn’t though. Instead, all he does is ride the hysteria of his emotions, eventually looking to you for the kind of guidance you’re more than willing to give him.

Once again taking his hands —cautiously this time— you etch those same patterns into his hand, using your thumb to trace every line you see, telling him he’s okay. That you’re here and he’s safe and that you love him, despite everything.

Barely above a whisper, you tell him that his feelings are valid. That he’s allowed to take the time to process. That admitting that he loves you doesn’t mean there has to be this automatic shift into something new.

“We can just love each other,” you tell him, smiling. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can take it slow.”

That seems to calm him down enough for him to nod his head and reciprocate the contact of your hands with a short squeeze. Both of which make your heart swell in a sort of sad understanding as you silently offer him a hug, feeling him roughly wrap around you as he tells you he loves you again.

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#go slow #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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greentrickster · 2 months ago

Text

You know, of all the insane fandoms we have out there right now, you know which one always shocks me the most?

The Moomin fandom.

Which probably sounds like fighting words, but hear me out.

I'm thirty-six, and I did grow up with the Moomins. Specifically, I grew up with two of the novels - A Comet in Moominland (got when I was six or seven) and Finn Family Moomin (got when I was about ten). And I loved them. I still love them. I still have both books, and I know which bookshelf they're on in my room.

But, y'all.

That was my entire experience with the Moomins.

For around twenty. Years.

And when I say entire, I mean entire, the only other person I knew who had any idea what a 'Moomin' was was my sister, and that's because Mom read the books out loud to both of us. I thought that was it. I vaguely knew there were some more novels, because they were listed on one of the inside pages, but I genuinely thought it was just an old, obscure series of kids' novels.

Then, a few years back? I discover that

No.

That is Not The Case Even A Little Bit. The Moomin fandom is here and wholesome and HUGE. And there is so much media with it. And it has apparently Always Been Like this, I just wasn't ever in an area or era where I could encounter it when I was young.

And now I'm over here going, "What do you mean Snufkin's brunette? What do you mean he has hair? What do you mean he's human???" Because, to me, this is the first image I think of when I think of him:

That's Snufkin to me. And, given the context that he's surrounded by a bunch of critters, I just assumed that he was a fellow critter. His more detailed, coloured design is great, not gonna argue, but, even having known about it for years, seeing it is always very jarring to me.

And it's weird to realize that this is probably a pretty unique experience, not (just) because looking things up on the internet wasn't really an option at the time, not because I was in the wrong place, but because I just genuinely came to these stories and characters in an extremely strange way. Meaning every time I encounter the Moomin fandom, I get a small shock of, "Oh, right, this was not, in fact, an extremely niche series after all."

And no drama or toxicity or ground-breaking moment is ever gonna top that for me.

#my life #the moomins #moomin #snufkin

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 4 months ago

Note

how about some g!p donna with a partner that wants to try some strap warming and edge play while they watch a movie, partner reaching around every now and then to pet her shaft 'till she's close, only to stop and comforts her with kisses, cuddles, and praise until the movies done.

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

The waiting

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI

Word count: 5,050

Summary: Revenge is served cold...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Can I come in?” You asked innocently, knocking on the doors of the workshop.

“Of course, tesoro,” a soft voice answered, one you had been waiting to hear since you woke up that morning.

Yes, starting a romance with Donna Beneviento may have been unexpected, but it certainly wasn't something you regretted at all. Only someone like you dared to sell her vegetables beyond the safe limit of the village, going to that dark forest leading to the old estate.

Donna was a strange woman, a powerful Lord, but she certainly made you anything but afraid when you met her. Self-conscious about her appearance, about the changes that the Cadou produced in her body, the doll maker closed even more into herself. Nothing that the cheeky and cheerful (Y/N) couldn't change, of course.

After several months of dating, you realized that sometimes, all a person needs is love.

“I bring you some tea,” you said, carrying a tray with two cups. She looked at you from her work table and put on one of her beautiful smiles. You weren't going to lie, that's precisely why you were doing it.

“You are very kind, (Y/N),” Donna said softly, caressing your hand and making you blush.

You smiled satisfied and sat in a nearby chair, leaving the tray on the table.

“Wait, wait,” she said, interrupting your attempt to grab your own cup. “Sit on the other side,” she commented, pointing to the opposite side from where you were.

“What? Why?” You asked with a frown.

She stopped in her work of painting a porcelain head and slowly pointed to the defect on the right side of her face. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Donna...” You sighed, tired of her complexes. “What difference does it make?”

“I prefer you to see the good part of my face,” she murmured, pretending to return to her work. You stood up and grabbed her shoulders tightly, leaning into her ear.

“You're beautiful, my love...” You whispered, giving Donna a soft kiss on her cheek. “I don't know how I have to tell you.”

She laughed sheepishly, pushing away your little harassment and shaking her head, but grabbing your wrist so you leaned down to kiss her on the lips.

“Too kind, (Y/N),” she whispered, running a hand over your chest and smiling for a moment before returning with the porcelain.

You nodded and obeyed her request, reluctantly switching sides.

“What are you doing?” You asked, taking a sip from your cup and watching with curiosity how her skilled hands worked. She didn't look at you, but another beautiful smile formed on her face.

“Well, I'm painting some heads," she explained, dipping the small brush with paint. You made a strange and funny face.

“Wow... In a different context it could sound a bit… Scary,” you said with a dark voice, to which Donna shook her head, amused by your comments.

“Shall I paint yours?” She asked, jokingly, running the tip of the brush across your nose, to which you immediately stepped back, wiping away the water she left on your skin.

“I thought I was much prettier without makeup, or so you said,” you whispered ironically, making the lady in black blush.

“You're always pretty, tesoro,” Donna responded, as always, not knowing that it was just a joke.

You should have known that a human relationship was an absolute mystery for her. Still, you were fascinated by her innocence.

“Well, well who's being too kind now?” You said, moving a little closer and kissing her cheek again. Donna paused for a moment, capturing your lips in a quick kiss.

Watching her work was almost hypnotic. A woman like Donna had nothing else to do but make those sinister dolls. Her loneliness had given her great mastery in that aspect. You looked at her with your head resting on your hand, repeating to yourself over and over again that you had been tremendously lucky to have Donna by your side.

“What?” Donna asked when she noticed your erratic thoughts and your lost gaze. You shook your head, smiling wider.

“Nothing, I’m looking at you,” you responded with a soft voice, sighing.

“You’re looking at me...” Lady Beneviento repeated, shaking her head, with a shy smile.

“You know it's my favorite hobby,” you said amused, moving the chair closer to hers.

“I thought your favorite hobby was to play hide-and-seek with Angie,” she said, without looking away from that sinister head.

“Do you think so? That's an obligation, not a hobby,” you joked, crossing your arms, sighing. “I prefer to keep her happy.”

Donna smiled again and shook her head, leaving that freshly painted head somewhere you could see it.

“What do you think?” She asked curiously, wiping off the paint with her hands.

“It’s…Gloomy,” you said, nodding, feeling a chill. Certainly, dolls were never your best friends, and even more so in the dark.

The lady looked at her work confused, searching for any flaw.

“Hey, hey, it was a joke, it’s beautiful, Donna,” you said, holding back your laughter. “Just like you,” you finished with a sensual voice, which made her suddenly look at you with a strange face.

“It seems that you are very flattering today,” she sighed, embarrassed by your eternal compliments, while she continued studying that sinister head.

You shrugged with an innocent smile. No, not innocent at all.

“Your body has also woken up quite a bit... Flattering this morning,” you said quietly, leaning closer to her ear. Donna seemed frightened by those words and she raised her knee to the table reflexively, causing the porcelain to shake.

“Well, I...” She explained with a broken voice, knowing exactly what you were referring to.

“Have you dreamed of me?” You asked, slurring your words in a mischievous way, to make her nervous, which you had already achieved.

“I always dream of you,” Donna responded, with a calmer tone, but with her breathing a bit labored. Well, that's what you wanted.

“Mmm,” you murmured, blinking repeatedly. “A nice dream, for sure. I think you were so happy...”

“Oh, well, that,” She said, shaking her head, understanding what you were getting at. “I'm sorry.”

“Why do you apologize?” You asked, amused, incredulous.

“Sometimes I... I wake up with... With it…. Hard … It's not because of anything in particular, it sometimes happens to me, that's all,” she explained to which you rolled your eyes.

“Donna,” you said, ignoring her absurd explanations and gently taking her face in your hands to force her to look at you. It was better to be direct with Donna. Otherwise she would never get the hint. She nodded with her eye wide and a confused expression. “Tell me, how long have we not made love?”

She couldn't help but look surprised, and pretended to think about it. The heat on her cheeks was quite evident.

“Um, I, I don't know, maybe, maybe three days,” she stammered, avoiding looking into your eyes.

“Four,” you corrected with a severe tone, but with the same tender look. “A long time, don't you think?”

Donna shook her head erratically. Certainly, she didn't know what to answer. Intimacy was always something she was terribly ashamed of, and you always took advantage of it.

“Oh, it is?” She asked with a trembling voice, while your hands slowly descended down her chest. Before her lips said something stupid again, you put a finger on them.

“Don't worry. It has an easy solution,” you purred, very close to her lips. She looked at you confused, but before she could react, you kissed her passionately, moving the chair closer again.

“Wait, (Y/N). Not here,” she protested timidly, nervous about the wet kisses that gave her no respite.

“Why not?” You asked, getting up from the chair to sit on top of her, on her lap.

“I have, I have to finish this work and...” Donna stammered as your hands traveled up her dress in a hurry, matching the soft movements of your hips.

“You'll do it later,” you said, dismissing her and unbuttoning the top of her dress, running your hand over her bare skin and making her gasp nervously, but excitedly.

“Sei molto impaziente,” Donna whispered, joining your kisses, your soft movements, overwhelmed by your tireless lust.

You smiled and moved your eyebrows triumphantly, sliding her black dress over her shoulders, revealing that soft pale skin that drove you crazy.

“You already know me,” you whispered in her ear, making her arms hug your waist, continuing with your kisses, with your caresses. “When I like something... It's hard for me to wait for it.”

She laughed and sighed, giving up. Actually, her body already gave her away seconds before, when you began to feel her own arousal pressing between your legs.

The wet sounds of kisses were rhythmically linked to your gasps. Your bodies moved with each other and your hands traveled lower and lower, gently stroking her erection and releasing it from its prison.

“Are you in a hurry?” Donna asked, surprised by your hasty gesture. You made a perverse face, but you didn't respond. You simply set about releasing yourself from your own underwear, leaving your dress on. You knew that turned her on.

“You're in a hurry,” you said with a serious tone, positioning her shaft at your wet and burning entrance, going down little by little, making her close her eye and moan from the contact. “Didn't you say you wanted to finish those dolls?”

“I…” The lady in black gasped, grabbing your body to steady you as she plunged inside. “I, I guess they can wait…”

Your walls slowly stretched, making you enjoy every inch of her erection inside of you, making your body adapt little by little, causing you immense pleasure, which you expressed with a not quiet moan.

“Shh, not that loud, tesoro, Angie can hear us...” Donna scolded you, moving her hips, making the pleasure of feeling you much more intense.

You laughed amused, finding the perfect position for you to start moving on top of her.

To prevent the doll from being alerted by your loud moans, the lady in black launched herself at your lips, forming a slow but at the same time hurried rhythm, letting your body rise and fall just as she needed it, just as you needed it.

You hung on to her neck, dancing with your hips to provoke her own moans, which you achieved shortly after.

When your hips began to shake too much, a horrible sound filled the room, the ring of a telephone.

“No, no, no, no. Don't even think about it, Donna,” you said, guiding her chin so she looked at you, noticing how her movements stopped little by little and her gaze turned towards the hallway.

“But, but it could be important,” she protested, which you prevented by grabbing her body more firmly and moving your hips so her shaft danced inside you as you liked.

“Wait, wait a moment… If it's important, they'll call again,” you said a bit desperately. “I'm so close, darling... Please...”

“No, I…” Donna said, making you moan as she lifted you by your legs, getting out and sitting you on the table, leaving you with your mouth open and your brows furrowed. “Wait for me, okay? I'll be right back.”

“Donna! Get back here! Now!” You screamed getting off the table, watching in horror as her erection was hidden again in the fabric of her dress as the lady ran towards the hallway. “Donna! Shit...” You sighed annoyed, crossing your arms and picking up your underwear from the stone floor of the workshop.

You snorted again and again. You were so close... And someone had the audacity to interrupt. Of course, Donna's duties as Lords of the village were her top priority, although you didn't imagine it was enough to leave you in that state.

“So? It was that important?” You asked annoyed, already fully dressed. She entered the workshop embarrassed, fastening her buttons again, letting you understand that this would not continue.

“No, well... I have, I have to go to a meeting,” she said, unable to look you in the eye, of course.

“Now?” You asked immediately, letting out all the rage inside you in the form of a sigh. “Donna… It's almost time for dinner.”

“It will only be a moment. Afterwards, we can have a romantic dinner and watch a movie, what do you think?” She said, putting on her dress and her messy hair due to your restless hands.

“What? Oh no, you're going to come back here and finish what you've started, my love,” you said in a threatening tone, approaching Donna and making her step back, nervous.

“Um, yes, yes, but, after the movie,” she said hurriedly, giving you a quick kiss and putting on that horrible veil, to which you groaned, helplessly.

“After the…? Oh, okay, whatever, Donna,” you sighed in annoyance, crossing your arms. The lady in black sighed as well, lifting your chin with two fingers.

“Don't be mad at me, tesoro,” she whispered, with that voice that made it impossible for you to feel any resentment towards her. Sometimes she seemed innocent, sometimes not that much. sometimes she seemed like she knew you better than you knew yourself.

You pulled away and tried to hide that small smile that formed on your face, shaking your head.

“You better make me the best lasagna in the world,” you hissed amusingly, to which she nodded with a shy laugh, leaving the workshop and leaving you alone and unsatisfied.

At least she kept that promise, as always.

It was a quiet dinner, free of hard feelings. The heat that was in your body dissipated little by little in the light of the candles and the taste of that soft and fruity wine.

“Okay, okay, it actually was the best lasagna in the world,” you said, pretending to be defeated, earning a pleased smile from Donna, a warm and affectionate smile. “Well, then… What do we do now? To the bedroom?” You asked impatiently.

Donna sighed and shook her head, reaching out with her hand to caress yours.

“No, now we're going to watch a movie,” she told you softly, which made you roll your eyes again and turn away from her caresses.

“So when…?”

“After the movie,” Donna said before you finished the question. “I told you before I left.”

“Oh, of course... Before you left me alone and desolate...” You joked, exaggerating the offensive tone of your words.

“Don't be dramatic, tesoro,” Donna whispered, getting up from the table and caressing your cheek, forcing you to look at her. “I promise I'll make it up to you, okay?” She said with a tender voice, irresistible for you.

“Oh, of course you will...” You whispered as she walked away from you, walking towards the elevator, with a slightly cruel idea in your head.

The cold and calculating idea of revenge.

“Would you like this one?” The lady asked, already in her office, showing you one of the thousands of boxes she had, containing old movies. You nodded with a fake smile, which she didn't notice, thankfully.

“Come here,” you said, patting the small couch as the projector began to illuminate the white fabric. She nodded, sitting next to you, unprepared. Your revenge was near.

The first minutes were calm. You let poor Donna trust herself, caressing her hands, intertwining your fingers…. Nothing out of the ordinary, a romantic dinner and movie like the hundreds of them you had before your first kiss.

“But I'm not the policeman,” you said, reading the label of that silent movie. Donna laughed and looked at you tenderly.

“You know it, (Y/N),” she murmured, torturing you with her smile.

“Of course, it's one of my favorites,” you said, making a nice gesture of silence with your hand.

When you saw that the occasion was perfect, that Donna was distracted enough, you rested your body on hers, which she immediately hugged, placing a soft kiss on your hair.

It could be a tender moment, truly romantic, but you... Oh, yes, you wanted revenge.

Little by little, you raised your head to her neck, planting small kisses along the way, soft and innocent kisses for which she laughed shyly, oblivious to your true intentions. You bit your lip, moving your hand to her leg and up the black fabric of her dress.

She gasped in surprise, but she barely moved, assuming it was an affectionate gesture. Yes, Donna was so innocent...

Your kisses on her neck continued as your vengeful hand played with her body, caressing her leg, her belly, her chest… Everything but your main goal, which made Donna shiver with a chill.

She looked at you briefly, not with annoyance or tiredness. It seemed that your caresses had had the desired effect, since her lips approached yours, kissing them softly, slowly, in a tender and intense kiss. You smiled discreetly as her hands caressed your cheeks, pulling you towards her. You, a bit clouded by the pleasure of those kisses, remembered what your purpose was, and you put your hands on her chest, preventing her from getting closer.

“Shh, Donna, the movie,” you whispered in her ear, leaning her back against the couch and making her look at you amused, but disappointed. Just how you wanted her.

Far from stopping, you took advantage of that moment to let your hand rest on her leg again, holding it until Donna gasped in surprise at that burning touch. Her head turned back to kiss you. You didn't stop her, but you kept your distance.

Taking advantage of the distraction that those wet kisses provided. You raised your hand until you felt the area between her legs. Just like what you wanted, you wanted to feel it growing in the palm of your hand and that's what you would do.

“(Y/N)...” Donna whispered, among kisses, alerted by those soft caresses between her legs, caresses that were beginning to make her nervous.

“Does it make you nervous?” You asked amused, playing with the fabric, noticing how little by little, that lump was hardening in your hand while your mouth worked on her lips, on her neck...

“N, no... I, I like it,” she responded to your surprise, which made you raise an eyebrow and continue your soft movements, continue caressing her erection with your hand, through the fabric, just caressing, exciting her until she couldn't stand it anymore.

You smiled triumphantly, moving away from her but still caressing her. She looked at you with desire, with lust for that subtle touch. No, no, no. She wasn't going to get you to give up because of that.

Your hand left her shaft to rest on her cheek, causing her head to turn back to the illuminated screen.

“Look at the movie,” you whispered with a severe tone, but suggestive at the same time. Donna looked at you confused, blinking repeatedly, but she didn't say anything. She resigned herself to obey you, with a nervous breath and a prominent blush on her cheek.

You bit your lip again, reaching down to grab her dress so you could sneak it under the fabric, caressing her bare skin with your nails, making her gasp but not move.

Little by little your caresses intensified, reaching her underwear, which was unable to contain her arousal. You moaned at the contact, but held back, limiting yourself to running your hand along her covered shaft, gently, without rushing.

“What are you…?” The lady in black asked, looking at you curiously but with a pleased smile on her face.

“The movie, Donna,” you said, turning her head toward the screen again. She seemed confused, but your gentle touch pleased her enough not to complain. She was always so sensitive...

Donna nodded nervously, moving uncomfortably on the couch while your hand continued its fiery caresses and your mouth ravaged her neck, making her writhe in pleasure and close her eye.

You laughed, taking advantage of the fact that she didn't see you, and you pulled her erection out of the underwear, surrounding it with your hand, moving slowly, caressing the tip with your thumb. She didn't say anything, she just moaned at the feeling of your soft caresses on her most sensitive spot.

You moaned softly in her ear, showing your own desire as the embrace of your hand intensified a bit, just a bit, moving it up and down, trying to touch her as less as possible, making her moan at the sensation.

“Tighten me a little more, (Y/N)” Donna begged with a voice distorted by pleasure. You raised an eyebrow and obeyed, but only a little, just enough for her to relax again while you took care of her.

“Is that the way you like it, my love?” You asked with a velvety tone, making Donna nod profusely while your hand grabbed her harder, going up and staying at the tip, and then going down slowly, very slowly.

“Yes, yes...” she responded, heated and suffocated by your actions. Her hips moved to match the terribly slow movements of your hand, to get that rhythm she needed and you weren't going to give her.

“Shh...” You joked when you noticed how her shaft trembled in your hand. She wouldn't say it, but she was close, you could tell.

“Keep going, please,” Donna asked, her tone frustrated as your hand moved away from her erection to return to her legs, to the soft scratches of your nails on her soft skin. You smiled satisfied and shook your head.

“No, my love,” You whispered, making her look at you strangely and confused. “Oh, Donna, you're so good…” you said next, removing your hand from her dress to caress her cheek. “I love how sensitive you are.”

“Tha, thank you, (Y/N), but... But I...” she said confused, with a half smile and her hips asking for your hand to return. “Please, I want… I want…”

“Do you want some kisses? Of course, darling,” you said, ignoring the real question, ignoring her desperate cry for release.

The moisture that had formed between your legs was a sign that you liked that game, and much more than you thought. You supposed poor Donna, didn’t like it that much.

With a soft laugh, you leaned into her, kissing her tenderly, slowly, controlling the hunger you could feel on her lips, the attempts to get her hips to rub against yours.

“You are such a beautiful woman, Donna... You drive me crazy,” you whispered into her lips, making her look at you with a mixture of desire and confusion. “Did you know it?”

Donna nodded erratically, pleased by your soft words. She almost seemed to have forgotten about the need between her legs. You couldn't let that happen.

After a few tender moments of quiet kisses, your hand slipped back into the darkness of her dress, recovering her intact, trembling erection, and caressing it again.

Donna moved closer to you, as if not wanting you to abandon her again, moaning at the delicate and slightly faster movements of your hand on her sensitive area.

“I don’t want to make a mess on my dress but… I can't take it anymore, (Y/N),” she whispered, sounding terribly desperate. “Your hand is… Perfect…”

You slowed down again excited by those words that told you Donna was starting to lose control. The perfect time for revenge.

“Fine,” you said, jokingly, running your thumb over the shiny, wet tip, only to pull it away again, making Donna moan in annoyance.

“Are you playing with me?” She asked with a desperate tone. You had to stop yourself from laughing. She was so close… Maybe you had been too cruel.

“No, my love,” you responded in a soft tone, grabbing the hand that was tightly squeezing your chin. “You said you didn't want to make a mess on your dress ...” You purred, passing your hand through hers, which loosened its grip immediately. Donna looked at you with an almost painful grimace.

“Fanculo il vestito, (Y/N), please don't stop...” She said, with a hint of fury in her voice. You raised your eyebrows at her unusual expression.

“But Donna, don't talk that way,” you said amused, kissing her slowly on the lips, making her gasp and pull away from you abruptly, crossing her arms and kicking the wooden floor in a childish way. “You’re so beautiful... Don't say those ugly words.”

“You make me say them, (Y/N)” Donna sighed, putting a hand between her legs to relieve the tension on her aching and anxious shaft.

“Hey, keep your hands out, honey... We're watching a movie,” you said amused, withdrawing her hands, which made Donna snort with rage and look at you almost with hatred.

“Are are we watching it?” She asked ironically. You nodded and put on an innocent smile, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her head to your chest, caressing her comfortingly.

“Come on, be patient, when the movie is over I'll take care of you, okay? You are so beautiful, so delicate... I love you so much...” You said sighing, stroking her black hair with your fingers, enjoying that delicious lavender perfume.

“No, no, no. Now, (Y/N),” she said hurriedly, moving abruptly and leaning you against the couch, tugging at the edges of your underwear.

“How impatient you are, my love...” You said amused stepping back but letting your wet entrance exposed to torture her even more.

“I don't know who reminds me of,” she said, shaking her head, playing with her dress to release her erection and position it at your entrance, something that you prevented by sitting down again.

“Donna, stop,” you said amused, with a cheeky gesture with your finger. “Stay still, mm? I told you when the movie is over…”

She grunted, hanging her head and getting up from the couch, walking towards the projector. Knowing what her intentions were, you ran to prevent it.

“That's cheating, honey,” you said amused, guiding the woman towards the couch again, sitting her down in a comical way. “Sit down, there's not much left.”

“Well, well... So... So keep touching me,” Donna said angrily, gesturing for you to come back to her.

You shrugged, lying down next to her body and continuing your soft, tortuous caresses. The moans returned to the small office and her desperation was becoming more palpable, literally.

“Just like that, tesoro... I'm so close…” The lady said with a sigh of relief when she obtained that pleasure. “I'm going... I'm going to...”

Before she finished her sentence, you removed your hand again, making her moan sound more like a sob.

“Why, (Y/N)?” She asked with a look that made your body stir a little. No, you weren't going to falter, not at that moment, not so close to the end. “Is it because of this afternoon?”

You sighed, shaking your head, but with a smile on your face, looking out of the corner of your eye at the movie, which was already about to end. With an amused gesture, you caressed her cheek as she squirmed in frustration on the couch.

“No, it isn’t...” you said, exaggerating the words, showing what your true answer was. “I just want to finish watching the movie with this beautiful woman next to me, isn't it romantic?”

“You are an evil, vengeful witch,” Donna said, crossing her arms, looking down from time to time, trembling for the release she needed so bad.

“But you love me, right?” You asked in an innocent voice, caressing her cheek. Her furious expression relaxed with your gentle touch, causing her to give you a loving smile and nod slowly.

Donna tilted her head slightly to capture your lips. It wasn't an impatient or lustful kiss. It was different, almost like an apology.

“Forgive me for this afternoon, (Y/N). I know it wasn't fair, I'm so sorry,” she said softly, cupping your face in her hands and resting her forehead against yours.

“But...” You joked, biting your lip again, urging her to finish that sentence.

“Please, tesoro... Make me cum, please... It hurts...” She begged you in a low voice, wriggling again and putting pressure between her legs with her hand.

You sighed and looked at the screen, where a big, colorful “The end” indicated that it was time to end this unfair torture.

“Come on, look, the movie's over,” you said amused, kissing her fiercely, making your hand return to her erection, to which Donna moaned pleased. “You have been very good, Donna… You deserve to choose… Where do you want to do it?”

She smiled impatiently, wondering what the best option was. You knew her. Her finger rose pointing to your legs, now slightly open.

“Okay, honey, come here then,” you said in a loving tone, pulling her hand and kissing her again.

The intrusion was immediate, but it was rougher than usual, stretching your walls faster, but sending waves of pleasure inside of you.

“Hey, easy, Donna,” you joked, letting your body adapt little by little to her erratic, desperate movements.

“No, I'm not going to go easy, not now,” she said in a dark voice, grabbing you by the ankles and raising your legs while her thrusts went faster and faster.

You didn't care how painfully close she was, how much her erection throbbed inside you. She had suffered your revenge, and she deserved a reward.

“I'm close, Donna...” You said, letting yourself be carried away by those waves of pleasure, a pleasure that you had to contain throughout the entire movie.

“Oh, are you? Well, I'm sorry, (Y/N) but...” Donna said hastily, moaning with no discretion and staying deep inside you, finally releasing herself and covering you with her heat, filling you in a hungry way, caressing your walls with her warm seed. “I go first…”

You laughed, suppressing the instinct to continue moving for your own pleasure and caressing the woman in black, who fell into your chest, gasping with relief.

“It's been funny, hasn't it?” You asked, after a moment of silence, enjoying the love you felt with soft caresses.

“Funny?” She asked startled, getting up from your chest and looking at you with an accusing eye. “(Y/N)...”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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