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dynyamight · 3 years

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Hello! Could you do this one :

192 - You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

Thanks ☺☺

192. You make me feel alive. For the first time ever, I feel like I can breathe.

“My, you’ve grown so tall and handsome, Katsuki! I can barely recognize you!”

Bakugou shrugs stiffly, hands deeply shoved in his pockets. “..Evenin’, Auntie.”

“Hurry, hurry!” Inko quickly beckons him inside the apartment, with frantic hand motions. “The cold air will get you sick the longer you stand out there.”

After a few tentative steps inside, and offering a mumbled pardon of intrusion, Bakugou makes a look around the small home.

God, everything looked eerily the damn same.

The miniature sofa, the kotatsu, the TV airing the local news, the rickety old dining table, in the same faded wood color just like before. The kitchen, probably looks the same, too.

Nothing new.

And, oddly enough, Bakugou was glad. Familiarity was very much needed, right now.

“Let me take your coat, dear.” Inko shushes quietly, right beside him. When Bakugou twists his head down, he looks to see her offering a soft smile.

Something in his chest clenches. “Nah, s’fine.” He coughs, struggling to meet her gaze. “..We’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

“You know, that’s what you always told me, back when you two were kids.” Inko voices gently, “Waiting at the front door. Ready to head out, as soon as Izuku stepped out.”

“It warms my heart to see you two together.” She says, gazing at him, with that same comforting expression she used to give him long ago.

The inside of his palms are damp, sweating nervously. All he can offer is a quick nod of acknowledgment, without losing his cool in front of her.

Sure, they weren’t close before, but Inko only remembers him as that child. The one that was her son’s best friend. The one that knocked at her front door, jumping in his sneakers excitedly. The little boy who guided her son out of her home, and brought him back, safe and sound.

And, the same guy who was once the source of all of her beloved son’s distress, turmoil, and torment.

He hopes Midoriya has told her redeeming things about him, now that she knows that part. Because, there’s no way in hell he can sell himself any better.

A door to the right of the hallway opens in that instant.

With his back turned away from them, Midoriya steps out in an obnoxious All Might pajama set, barefooted.

He’s holding up two sweaters, dangling from each hand. “Mom!” He calls out towards the dining room, “Which one looks better? Yellow or red?”

“I can’t tell, Izuku.” Inko states easily, “Turn around.”

Doing a double take, Midoriya pivots in his stance, almost tripping over the long pants. “Oh, when did you get behind-?”

Midoriya’s face drops, before the shirts hit the floor.

Bakugou snorts, while Inko intently gazes at the fallen clothing. “I would think the burgundy one would look wonderful, sweetie.” She advises, regardless.

Quickly, Midoriya gathers and shoves his sweaters in his arms, and hurries back into his room, slamming the door shut. The click of a lock echoes, alongside a bunch of stressed, inaudible words.

“..You sure you don’t want me to take your coat?” Inko asks him. This time, there’s a knowing, small teasing expression on her face. “Izuku might take a while longer.”

Bakugou doesn’t wait for long, seated under the warming kotatsu. His drums his fingers on his thighs, here and there. And, the heat does get a little stuffy, while wearing black jeans and a turtleneck.

But, otherwise, it’s not intolerable. Inko had offered him plenty, during his wait; a hot mug of ginger and cinnamon tea, a small plate of cookie biscuits, and her silent, yet welcoming company. She even insisted on covering his shoulders with a large blanket, engulfing him completely.

“Anything for you.” Inko reassures him, despite having not voiced anything. “You have done so much to keep Izuku happy. It’s the least I can do.”

The overbearing politeness runs in the family, like a disease.

He feels he should thank her, or better yet, try to have a conversation with her. But, each time he builds up the internal guts to say something, the words get caught in his throat.

He wants to make sure he says the right thing to Midoriya’s mother. Unfortunately, he desperately wants her approval.

So, when Midoriya finally walks around the corner, in a nice pair of jeans and that same burgundy sweater from before, Bakugou’s relieved to say the least.

He feels saved.

“Now, the night is only getting colder, by the minute.” Inko hurriedly tells them, as the three of them walk to the front door, “This winter season has been terribly freezing! My heart can’t handle either of you catching the flu, let alone both of you! So, try to make it home not only safe, but healthy. Oh, and if you are unable to catch the last train, please let me know! I will gladly-”

“It’s okay.” Midoriya reassures her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll be okay.”

“I know, I know. Just please-”

“Call you when we’re on our way home.” Midoriya answers easily. “Yeah, I will.”

“..You promise?”

“I promise, Mom.”

They share a sweet, long embrace, which Bakugou can’t help, but look away.

Something about their close bond, and unashamed love for each other feels intrusive for him to be a part of.

Something that he doesn’t deserve to be a part of. At least, not yet.

Instead, he solely focuses on readjusting his winter coat over his shoulders.

On their languid walk towards the metro station, a few blocks away from the apartment complex, Midoriya slips his hand in his.

“You told me 20:00, Kacchan.” He whines, however.

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “It was.” He corrects in a huff, “Until you fucking said I could drop by an hour early.”

“Wha—? When did I say that?”

“During our damn lunch break, yesterday.” Bakugou incredulously stares at him. “The hell? You were the one who came up to me and literally said it yourself. How your conference for today with the academy got cancelled. ”

For a moment too long, Midoriya stays silent, visibly mulling over the words in his head. Each quiet second makes Bakugou more internally baffled, downright shocked.

If it weren’t for Midoriya’s warm hand loosely holding onto him, he’d crackle a couple explosions, in spite.

“Oh. I did.” Midoriya breathes out laughing, bringing his other hand to his face. “I completely forgot.”

“Shitty Deku.” Bakugou grunts. “Starting the night off wrong, already?”

“Hey! Don’t go making me feel bad, Kacchan!” With pleading eyes, Midoriya looks up at him. “I didn’t mean to forget. School’s been hectic recently, and you know that.”

Those huge, bright green eyes. His kryptonite.

Bakugou clicks his tongue. “..Whatever. S’not like the wait was awful.”

“Oh god, I hope my mom wasn’t too much with you.” Midoriya messes with Bakugou’s fingers in between his, tightening and letting go of them.

“Not at all.” Bakugou lies.

Smiling, Midoriya lets out a big sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. If you two didn’t get along tonight, I might have had an aneurysm.”

“If you had to choose—” Bakugou starts.

Midoriya narrows his eyes. “Stop it.”

Bakugou scoffs, slipping out an air of mirth into it. “Obviously your mom.”

“Obviously, it would be too hard of a decision to make.” Midoriya corrects. “Hopefully that time never, ever, ever comes.”

Despite trying not to smile, Bakugou feels the traces of a smirk on the corners of his lips. “If that day ever happens, always pick Auntie.” He states easily, “Her heartbreak would be so fucking intense. Put all natural disasters to damn shame.”

With a small, slipped out laugh, Midoriya bumps their shoulders together, softened by their winter coats. “You are weirdly making sense, Kacchan.”

“Of course I’m making fucking sense. She cries over the thought of someone taking you away. Villain, or not.”

“Every mother is like that!”

“Hell, I’m damn surprised Auntie didn’t flip her shit from seeing me.” Bakugou honestly confesses finally, more to himself than to Midoriya. “Dating her one and only son, and she didn’t even freak out about it.”

And, just like that, Bakugou knows something is wrong, from the moment Midoriya stays quiet.

They continue to walk, despite the sudden tense mood between them. But, that doesn’t mean Bakugou doesn’t want to demand Midoriya to speak up, the longer he keeps his mouth shut.

But also, he doesn’t want to ruin their night, and so, he waits begrudgingly.

Right as the two are on the outskirts of the metro tunnel, Midoriya twiddles Bakugou’s fingers nervously.

“..I haven’t told her about us yet,” He admits, face morphed in guilt. “But, I mean, she could very easily guess our intentions tonight. So, maybe— I don’t know —she might know.”

Bakugou hums, allowing himself a few seconds to process that. He then breathes a long air through his nose. “..I figured.” He simply says.

“It’s not like I want to hide us.” Midoriya voices aloud, furrowing his brows. “It’s just with graduation coming up, and the academy still looking for an agency to accept me as anything, and then my father suddenly wanting to come back into our lives, she’s just been a little stressed with everything going on, including myself. And, I don’t want to potentially ruin us and-”

With a tight grip, Bakugou halts them to a sudden stop.

When Midoriya worriedly gazes at him, he offers him back a nod. “Yeah, I get it.” Bakugou firmly states.

“Kacchan, I-”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

And, he really means it.

While people bypass them, heading through the automatic doors of the metro station, they both remain standing, staring back at each other.

The first to break is Midoriya, releasing a big, tired sigh. “You’re right.” He frowns, looking away. “I’m totally ruining this date night. I’m sorry.”

Pulling his hand out of the hold, Bakugou instead brings his arms over Midoriya’s shoulders. He hugs them close. “No, you’re not.”

“I am.” Midoriya responds backs, muffled.

“We’ve been on more shit dates, Deku.” Bakugou tells him in his ear. “And, this ain’t one. It barely even began.”

“A whole year, and I—I haven’t even told her.” Midoriya shakingly admits. “I’m such a coward.”

Bakugou huffs. “You’re not. The talk ain’t easy. Hell, telling my hag and old man about us was like pulling teeth out of my damn mouth.”

“..At least you told them.”

“Listen, you went through a lot of shit, two years ago.” Bakugou reminds Midoriya, bluntly. “The running away. The dropping out. The undercover work. The public hate. Getting together after all fucking that, probably wasn’t even the best move.”

“I still remember it all.” Midoriya mumbles.

Bakugou tightens his hug. “And, since then, life’s been a total bitch to you. I fucking wish you didn’t get half the crap you have to deal with, because it runs you into a damn mess.”

“But, I—”

“So, just focus on the important shit, right now.” Bakugou breathes out, pressing his head against Midoriya’s. “Us? We can wait. No, I can wait. I’ll be right beside you, until then, and even after that.”

Lifting his arms up and around Bakugou’s back, Midoriya holds onto him, just as tight as him. “..You promise?”

Bakugou exhales a short sigh. “I promise, Izuku. We’ll be okay.”

Letting go, Midoriya gently pushes away from Bakugou’s grip, causing them to finally part, for who knows how long.

Before the secondhand embarrassment of people witnessing them sinks into his pride, Bakugou’s redirected to the watery eyes of Midoriya, as he quickly blinks them dry.

“God, when did you get so—?” Midoriya wildly moves his hands around, gesturing over at Bakugou.

On the other hand, Bakugou scrunches his nose. “The hell does that mean?”

“So supportive?” Immediately, Midoriya shakes his head. “No, you’ve been supportive, that’s not the right word. So kind? Uh, that doesn’t sound right..”

“You mean romantic.” Bakugou puts it bluntly.

A rush of red floods Midoriya’s face, matching his sweater and shoes. “Don’t say it so loud, Kacchan!”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you weren’t asking dumb ass questions!” Bakugou yells back, crossing his arms definitively. “We’re together, Deku! Of course I’m gonna tell you fucking sappy shit.”

“Shh! You are making us be a public scene!”

“Too late! We were a public scene the fucking moment we stopped in front of the damn metro like stupid lovers at the altar!”

It starts slow, with nothing, but Midoriya blinking up at him.

But then, a slipped sputter starts and a bubbling laughter erupts from Midoriya. He grabs onto Bakugou’s arm, helping him from not bending over in giggles.

“W-We really did!” Midoriya barely says, wheezing, “Lovers at an altar. A-And, you literally gave me vows!”

It takes Bakugou forcibly grabbing his idiotic, cackling boyfriend to finally move aside, and walk through the station’s entrance. He refuses to focus too much on the fire heating his face.

He’s never making outlandish, romantic gestures in public, ever again.

They missed their train, obvious from the lengthy moment they had outside. But, neither of them were upset about the ordeal. Instead, they gradly bought tickets for the next train to Tokyo, with only a thirty minute wait.

As Bakugou starts to shift comfortably in his bench seat, right beside him, Midoriya rests his head on top of his shoulder. “Thankfully, we still won’t miss the movie premiere.”

“Because your weird ass is making us leave hours before midnight.”

“For situations like these!”

Bakugou scoffs a short laugh. “I guess it’s reasonable.”

Grabbing his hand into a loose grip, Midoriya twiddles with Bakugou’s fingers once more. “Thank you. For tonight.” Midoriya whispers.

“You needed time to chill the fuck out. With the shit you’ve been facing, let tonight be the night you forget about it.” Bakugou grumbles, “Besides, I haven’t been able to steal you away, for my damn self.” He tacks on.

Midoriya smiles back at him, head comfortably slumped on his shoulder. “You make me feel alive, again. And, for the first time ever, since the start of this year,” He sighs, longingly up at Bakugou, “I feel like I can breathe.”

Bakugou brings him closer, chin tucked in his curls. “Good. I need you to breathe, at least once and a fucking while.”

Midoriya snorts. “Just at least once?”

“And, a fucking while.” Bakugou reiterates, “I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not.” Midoriya chuckles, bringing his legs over Bakugou’s lap. “You’re my monstrous boyfriend.”

“That’s fucking right.”

For a while, they stay just like that; close, intimate, and stuck together, without a care of the outside world. Maybe it’s from the intense conversation from earlier, but Bakugou doesn’t feel deterred to back away. Instead, he feels comfortable in holding Midoriya, and not letting go.

“You know,” Midoriya starts, “My mom wouldn’t freak out.”

Bakugou raises a brow. “..Hm?”

“About us. She wouldn’t freak or flip out like that.”

“C’mon, Deku.” Bakugou scoffs, shaking his head. “You don’t gotta lie to me, now.”

“I’m serious.” Midoriya reaffirms strongly, emphasizing his words with a tightened grasp around his hand. “She wouldn’t.”

“I’m not the type of guy you bring to your damn family. Seeing me as anyone’s partner is like fucking failing at life.”

Midoriya brings a tentative hand, cupping the side of Bakugou’s face. His fingertips are rough, yet linger there softly. “Just promise her you’ll make me happy and keep me safe.” Midoriya states easily, smiling brightly. “And, she’ll welcome you with open arms, all over again.”

#star responds #okay sooo idk which writing prompt this was for?? BUT I STILL THOUGHT THIS WAS CUTE #bkdk third years. bkdk established relationship. bkdk and inko #maaaan i literally let my fluff/hurt heart have it #i hope this is the time of soft bkdk you want !!#ayae-02 #bakudeku #FICLET

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sparring-hyena · 3 years

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can we try again?

@alexroyard asked if this story had a part two. i’m in a writing mood, so i guess it does now.

OR, the one where Becca knows that she’s accidentally fallen in love, hates that she’s fallen in love (except not really), and is a little bit self-destructive.

they bump into each other at a party a few days into the new quarter. it’s brief, barely a moment, and naturally, it’s a complete disaster.

they find each other in the empty hall just outside Alex’s suite. there’s music beating just inside, but there’s something quiet that settles when their eyes lock—something quiet and calm and only for the two of them.

they move closer together. as if pulled by some unknowable force. Becca wonders if Alex can feel it too.

Alex says, “hey,” when they’re only a foot apart.

and Becca itches to say something. ask one of the questions that have been burning in her mind for weeks. but all she does in yank Alex in for a kiss that’s slow and soft and so damn easy to get lost in.

their tongues move together so effortlessly and easily, it’s as if this is what they were always meant to do. Becca lets herself fall into it, lets her grip on Alex’s jacket loosen, and her fingers sink into Alex’s hair.

Becca tells herself that she’s trying to prove something to herself. that she’s not in love with Alex; could never be in love with Alex. her brain laughs and says, you know that’s not true.

then Becca feels Alex’s arms settle around her waist and that’s when she pushes her away. because suddenly it’s real.

she says, “fuck you,” and doesn’t add anything else. doesn’t dare ask why didn’t you call? why did you leave? why why why?

Alex looks confused and tries to apologise. but Becca doesn’t bother sticking around. she feels tears in her eyes but doesn’t dare stop running until she’s outside and can finally breathe.

the next time Becca sees Alex, it’s at the auditions for James’ play. she can only see the back of her, but Becca knows it’s her. and she thinks of leaving before Alex has a chance to see her.

leaving would be the safer option. the easier option. but running isn’t something she does. it’s Alex who makes her run. who makes her feel giddy and happy and ignites something warm and intense inside her. and— what was the point of this again?

whatever. but she’ll be damned if she runs because of Alex again.

Alex turns around and sees her standing near the stage. she offers a hesitant smile and wave. the gesture warms Becca. but she still marches up to Alex and says something nasty. she just can’t stop herself. and then she walks away. tries to hold her head high even though she feels like shit inside.

Becca watches from the side as Alex and Chris talk and laugh in hushed whispers as they practice their lines. she feels something green flare up in the pit of her stomach. she almost marches right over to the pair, but then some guy walks in and he looks vaguely interesting so Becca goes and introduces herself.

Sebastian, she learns. he comes from money and seems to take pleasure in undermining Alex and her ragtag group of friends. and maybe that irritates Becca a bit. but she sees the way Alex’s gaze stays on her when she brushes her hand against Sebastian’s arm. and maybe that ignites a quiet thrill inside her.

the opening night of the play arrives. and when Kaitlyn and Alex kiss on stage, Becca silently wishes that she was on stage with Alex.

there’s a cast party later and Becca tosses with the idea of not going at all. but, naturally, thirty minutes later, she finds herself in Alex’s kitchen making a drink as a party rages on around her.

she flirts with Sebastian. tries to tell herself that this can work. even as she knows that it won’t.

her brain seems to take pity on her and leaves her alone for a while.

she moves up to the rooftop terrace later in the night. it’s empty—a small blessing due to the cold—and Becca wraps her coat tighter around her body as she leans against the railing.

“i was hoping to find you up here,” a voice says a few minutes later.

Becca glances over her shoulder and finds Alex leaning against the closed door with her hands buried deep in her pockets. Alex offers one of her easy smiles as she steps up to the railing beside Becca.

“enjoying the party?” Alex asks.

Becca hums and fiddles with her fingers. Alex then reaches out and cups Becca’s hands in her own. everything goes quiet in an instant and Becca stares at their hands clasped together and doesn’t feel the cold around them anymore.

she doesn’t dare look up and meet Alex’s gaze; she knows what she’ll see, and she’s almost certain she won’t be able to come back from that.

the door flies opens a short while later and Kaitlyn and Abbie stumble onto the terrace. and their quiet moment falls away like water down a drain. Becca slips away while Alex is talking to Kaitlyn, and she’s almost certain Abbie gives her an odd understanding smile. almost like she knows.

there’s not even anything to know, Becca thinks.

that’s not true, her brain sing-songs.

she hangs out with Sebastian a lot. makes a show of always touching his arm or shoulder or something like that when she sees Alex nearby. she knows and yet she doesn’t know at all why she does that.

her brain tells her to stop, that this isn’t a good idea. but Becca ignores it and focuses on the way Alex’s gaze burns into her.

they don’t see each other much for a while. just passing glances that simultaneously hurt and excite. but she always goes back to Sebastian.

she even helps him with collecting signatures for the student body president election. she sees Alex a few times then. says a few catty remarks that she doesn’t at all mean. and feels that pull, that desire, to be closer to Alex. she wonders, again, if Alex can feel it too.

her brain doesn’t give her answer for that one though. and Becca finds that she misses the sarcastic comments.

there’s the sixties themed party where they have a moment. Becca wonders if she can even call it a moment. because all she did was pull Alex aside and tell her something that might help Chris win the election.

so it was nothing. more of a favour really. but then when Alex returns with the damaging information about Sebastian, she slides up to Becca’s side and whispers “thank you,” and then links their pinkies together.

maybe it was a moment then. because it matters. it means something. right?

when Becca watches Alex laughing and dancing across the room later in the night, she wonders if Alex would ever help her like she just did with Chris.

she breaks up with Sebastian.

her brain says fucking finally! i’ve been waiting for weeks.

but Becca just feels empty and doesn’t have any energy left to bite back.

and then, finally, there’s the dance at the end of the quarter on the boat. Becca goes solo again and tries to fly under the radar. she spots Alex walk in a little while later with all her friends.

she feels that ache return. although now she’s almost certain she knows what the ache is for.

Alex offers a smile and a wave, and Becca’s cheeks warm barely-so as she returns the gesture in kind.

it’s later in the night when they find each other on some quiet part of the deck. the wind is cold against their skin, so they stand close together. maybe closer than what they should.

and there’s something simmering between them—hasn’t there always been? it bubbles and hisses and Becca wonders how much longer they’ll be able to last.

she’s not sure who breaks first, who bubbles over with want and desire. because suddenly they’re kissing and groping and moaning. and it’s somehow wonderful and terrible and feels like electricity is zapping across her veins.

it hurts and it heals and Becca needs more. there’s a bathroom nearby, barely big enough for the both of them, but they stumble inside and make it work.

Becca lets Alex press her up against the wall and hike her dress up around her waist as her hands wander and explore. she pulls at Alex’s hair and swallows the groan that falls from her mouth. and suddenly she feels everything.

it’s like she’s been hit with a freight train. there’s the heat and the desire, and the pain of not knowing and the pain of hoping and needing. she doesn’t even realise that she’s crying until Alex’s stops what she’s doing.

“i’m fine,” she says, trying to pull Alex in again to kiss away all the pain.

“hey, you can talk to me,” Alex says, and Becca knows that’s a fact. “was it something i did? do you want me to leave or—”

“no!” Becca holds on tight to Alex’s shoulders. “don’t leave. not again.”

“okay.” Alex stays and then pulls Becca in for a hug. she holds her for a long time—long enough to mean something. and only pulls away when Becca is ready.

“sorry,” Becca says.

“what for?” Alex asks, brows knitting together in confusion.

“a lot of things. mostly for being cruel.”

“you weren’t cruel. a little rude maybe. but definitely not cruel.”

Becca smiles. “you’re too good.”

Alex shrugs and grins a little sheepishly.

“no but you are.” Becca stresses the words. wants Alex to know that she means them. “things between us got messy—maybe they always were—and my head was just so... busy, so i had a lot of misdirected anger towards you. i’m sorry.”

“i know you are.” Alex rests their foreheads together, and Becca wonders if they can ever get better. “you look gorgeous, by the way.”

“you too.”

“do you wanna dance?”

“in here?” she gestures vaguely to the tight bathroom they’re currently in.

“outside. we can go somewhere quiet so no one will see. but we didn’t get to dance together at the last dance, so i thought it might be nice.”

Becca feels a warmth bloom in her chest and spread out from there. she fixes her dress and hair in the mirror, and so does Alex, before they slip out of the bathroom and find a quiet part of the boat where they can still hear the low hum of music.

they share one song together. and Becca really hopes that this isn’t the end. that they can try again.

they head back to the party, their hands slipping apart when they can hear the voices of their classmates getting closer.

Alex returns to her friends. and Becca doesn’t feel that ache anymore. it’s been replaced by something different. something good.

you know what that is, don’t you? her brain says.

she thinks that she does. but she’s not quite ready to say it yet.

her brains says, that’s fine. whenever you’re ready.

and Becca wonders when her brain became so understanding. but it doesn’t matter—not really anyway. because she’s found something good. something worth trying for. so who really cares about all the other little details?

#my writing #becca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #the senior #playchoices #another kind of rewrite #this time of book two #so it's canon adjacent #and is basically just a character study

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sweetchup · 3 years

Text

💌Love/Hate💌

Type: Pariston Hill x Reader

Prompts: Soulmate Au (Colorblind) + 7– Innocent/Corruption Kink

Author Note: OMG I am so so so sorry this took so long. I’m not sure what it was but my brain couldn’t write for Pariston. Like it was if the zodiacs took over and put it into a total shut down mode. It was insane. (ALSO Small warning, this is Pariston and, as expected, he’s an abusive dick)

(Valentine’s Day Masterlist)

When you had first accepted the job of being randomly assigned someone’s secretary, you hadn’t expected to be assigned to the CEO of a high end tech company. You mean, who in the world would have known that by just calling a flyer on a street corner would have led to working with someone so prestigious.

It almost sounded too good to be true!

….And, you wished you hadn’t jinxed yourself in that moment. The CEO of that high end tech company actually turned out to be only 21, having inherited the company from his father. He was not only a spoiled brat and a player but, my god, was he lazy. You were sure that if you hadn’t spent hours on the phone discussing ideas with his father and done all the paperwork for him, that the company would be in ruins before someone could say “We’re broke!”.

Though, no matter how hard you worked your ass off these past couple months, nothing could prepare you for this moment.

“Dear god someone help me…”

You and his father had told him many times over this week. On February 14 at noon, you have an important meeting with the Hunter Association. You can’t miss it.

But, of course, that lazy ass was running late. By 45 minutes to be exact.

“Miss (y/n), is Mr Avoli going to be showing up any time soon? It isn’t like him to be late.”

… And it surely didn’t help that you were standing in the meeting room, waiting for him with the Hunters Association's very own Zodiacs.

Shamefully, you turn to the doglike woman who had introduced herself as ‘Cheadle’ earlier and give an apologetic bow, “I-I deeply apologize. You see Mr Avoli's son, Hunter Avoli, recently took over the company. I reminded him constantly this past week about the meeting but I’m afraid he may have forgotten...”

“Oh that guy.” You hear the monkey zodiac ‘Saiyu’ spit out in disgust, “He is almost as bad as that dirt bag, Ging.”

“It’s not a problem Miss (y/n). I’ve met Hunter many times before so I’ve seen first hand how unprofessional he acts. This is clearly not your fault.” Cheadle reassures, giving you enough confidence to lift your head up from bowing to look at her as some of the Zodiacs complain in the background.

As you stare at the grayish colored woman, you can’t help but wonder what color she was wearing. Due to you still not having found your soulmate, you can only see the color of your soulmate’s eye color. Which, in your case, was brown. A chocolate brown to be exact.

And, usually dogs were brownish in color so you kind of wondered what color Miss Chealde chose instea—

“We are still waiting on the chairman and two other zodiacs so why don’t you take the chance to try and give Hunter a call.” Mizaistom, the ox zodiac, suggests suddenly.

“O-oh of course. Thank you very much Miss Cheadle, Mr Mizaistom. I’ll be very quick— Eep!”

Oh god why me?

Just as you made your way to the door to exit the room, someone on the other side had already swung it open. Making you, in pure surprise and shock, take a step backwards. Though, just like how your day is going so far, Luck truly didn’t seem to be on your side as you end up tripping on your own two feet and begin to fall backwards.

You expected to land hard on the cold tile floor in front of everyone, extremely embarrassing really, but instead you don’t. You still hit something firm and hard but… it was different. Actually, now that you think about it, you felt higher up than you were before…

“Ah, Ging this is why I said you shouldn’t barge into rooms so suddenly! You scared our poor guest!” A voice suddenly calls out from behind you, his breath slightly tickling the shell of your ear. Quickly, in surprise, you whip your head around to—

…Shit.

As your eyes lock with the male’s chocolate brown ones the room suddenly bursts into a flurry of color. Blues, reds, greens, maybe yellows? You honestly didn’t know the proper names for all the colors you were seeing for the first time. However, in all this chaos, you happened to know two things.

One, That you had just met your soulmate and Two,...

… it was none other than the Vice Chairman himself, Pariston Hill.

“Oh my! How unexpected!” Pariston chuckles out, causing what seems to be sparkles to pop out around him, “I never thought our guest here today would end up being my soulmate. Not at all!”

“I—“ “Shut up Rat!”

You freeze as something suddenly comes flying past your head. What the fuck...

“You have a soulmate? Not a Chance! Not a Chance! Not a Chance!”

“Quit joking.”

“I doubt the King Of Kickbacks would have an ordinary soulmate.”

It was as if a bomb had erupted in the room, everyone was in pure disbelief at what Pariston had just said, Suggested, he even had (Well everyone except Ging, of course). Hell, some of them haven’t even found their own soulmates yet. So, why did the heartless ass Rat get to have one?!

“I assure you, I’m speaking the truth. Why would I lie about something like this?”

We can think of many reasons…

“U-uh…” You suddenly speak out, slightly flinching as everyone’s attention turns to you, “He is telling the truth… I saw colors other than brown for the first time when we locked eyes.”

“See!” Pariston says happily, pulling you affectionately closer to him in his hold. As you are flustered by the act from the handsome man, he takes the chance to walk to what you believe is in the direction of an empty seat. However, you soon realize that wasn’t what he was intending as he walked right by it and leaves through the other door located in the room.

“Hey Rat!! Where do you think you are GOING!?!” The tigerlike man screeches out, storming through the door you two just left as well.

“Well, I’m going to spend time with my soulmate of course.” Pariston exclaims, his smile not even flinching as bloodlust from the other zodiacs creeps out from the room.

“As if I—“ Suddenly, a loud chuckle behind you rings out, cutting Kanzai off.

“C-Chairman Netero!” You squeak out in surprise at the older man. Oh god, what a disaster. As someone trying to make a deal to him, this looks bad. So bad.

“My, what a twist!” The Chairman rings out, stroking his beard as he thinks as he walks past you two. “Hmm… You and (y/n) can be excused from today’s meeting, Pariston.”

“B-But, Chairman!” Kanzai rebuts. Soon shutting up however as the chairman grabs onto the collar of his jersey.

“It only makes sense to give them alone time, Kanzai. We will just call Mr Aloisi for the meeting instead of having (y/n) give it to us.” Netero explains, giving you a small wink as he drags Kanzai as if he was some kitty cat back into the meeting room.

What a strange group…

As you sit there stunned at everything that has happened so far, you don’t realize Pariston has already begun walking again. It takes you a while to realize as well, precisely the loud sound of the door of his private office being closed. He must have walked pretty fast…

“A-ah. Umm you can put me down now.” You mumble out to the… Blonde man (unable to tell if that was the correct color).

“Hmm. What was that?” Pariston asks, as if he didn’t quite hear you from before.

“Oh. I was wondering if you could put me down.” You tell him again. Shit, the way you said that came out bad. “I-I mean I’m really appreciative of you saving me but you are likely getting tired of holding me and I can walk on my own.”

“Oh!”

You expected at that exclamation that Pariston would instantly put you down to the floor, but instead he walks over to his deck and places you down in front of that. Odd, but you don’t question the sparkly man.

Speaking of odd, as you looked around the room, you realized it was really cold in here. Much colder than the conference room and hallway. God, what a bad day to wear a skirt but no tights. Especially those insulated ones you recently bought.

“Are you Cold?” Pariston suddenly voices up, causing you to turn behind you to look at him. He still hadn’t moved from his spot right behind you.

“A-ah yes I am. I don’t want to be a bother but could you possibly turn it down a couple of notches?” You ask, taking a step back a little to give a little bit of space between you two.

“I’m afraid I can’t. My thermostat broke this morning.” Pariston exclaims, his smile turning into a bit of a frown. However, that didn’t last long as he soon had a full blown out smile again. “But, I do have my jacket that I wore to work this morning. It should be… Ah! There it is! Right on the seat of my chair if you want to grab it.”

“Oh.. thank you.” You give Pariston a small smile before leaning over the desk to grab the brown coat.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it but for some odd reason you didn’t feel fully comfortable around him. Which was even weirder because you didn’t understand what was causing it. Shouldn’t you naturally feel comfortable around your soulmate?

Perhaps, you just needed to get to know him better. That’s likely it. Your just nervous since he was supposed to be your clien—

“Ah!” You let out a yelp as you feel pressure and sharp pain in your lower regions. At first, you thought it was perhaps a weird cramp or something like that. However, once you fully grasped what you were feeling, you realized you were just trying to make yourself believe that.

“Oh whoops! Tight. Tight. That must have hurt.” Pariston chuckles out, rocking his hips back and forth as his eyes watched his cock disappear and reappear out of your hole. Harshly letting go of the strap of your panties that he had pulled aside to watch as an ever so slight bit of blood comes out in your slick. Delighted to see such results.

“P-Pariston. Please be gentle.” You gasp out, turning yourself by your waist to place a hand on the man’s chest. Ever so slightly fisting the fabric of his suit when he suddenly gave a really hard thrust. “Let’s slow down… too soon…”

“How come? I thought you said you were grateful to me right?” Pariston teased out, pulling your hand off his suit as well as pushing your front down against the desk. Making it so you were trapped underneath him.

“I-I am but—“ “Shh… I’m only taking my reward!”

However, even with your constant pleas for him to be slower, gentler, Pariston continued his actions. Watching you grow more and more wet as that uncomfortable burning sensation suddenly turned into pure ecstasy.

It was perfect…

Pressed down against the desk, unable to move as you were essentially being taken advantage of by him. Your very own soulmate.

It was embarrassing, agonizing and traumatizing.

Surely, you hated him. You despised him.

Having waited long enough, Pariston decided to finally pull out and flip you over so he could see you and the results of his hard work. “Now, Now my dear. It’s not so—“

Pariston feels himself blink a couple of times.

Oh… So, you were one of those types huh?

It was if you were some humanized version of a golden retriever. Your eyes that were supposed filled with terror or hatred were still as sparkly and innocent before you began. You were loyal to him to a fault and he honestly doubted you could bring it in your heart to even hate him.

It was annoying but it wasn’t that big of a problem. He could always break you in other ways.

However, that’s not exactly what was troubling him right now.

Fluttering? Or, Bubbles?

Whatever it was, he didn’t understand why he was feeling this sort of way. Especially seeing you look at him like that. With that love filled look…

“Pariston…” You mumble out, your voice slightly slurred. “Are you okay? Are you done?”

Are you okay?

Those three words ring in Pariston’s head. Eventually, causing him to break his composure and let out a light laugh.

“Aw. Did I leave you high and dry? Here I’ll fix that.” Pariston calls out. A slight shiver going up his spine as he hears you let out a small moan as he slips back into your dripping cunt.

You know what, he didn’t care how strange you were making him feeling.

Whether you looked at him with loved dazed eyes…

Or cried out how much you hated him with those kissable lips of yours.

Either way, he would enjoy every bit of playing with you. You had the rest of your miserable lives to try it out after all.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #pariston #pariston hill #pariston x reader #pariston hill x reader #hxh pariston

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 4 years

Note

You could do it with: IDW: Megatron, Ultra Magnus, Max, Rung and Bayverse Optimus?Thanks! You have a good day! :D (2/2)

HI I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD. MY GHOST LITERALLY WROTE THIS. I know it’s extremely late but my writers block has been hitting me during the pandemic while I’m stuck at home so hopefully I did this ok.

@bellisimapormesana

Character wasn’t stated so I’m defaulting to a cybertronian! Reader.

IDW Megatron

He feels you.

Seriously, this poor mech is as pessimistic as you’ll ever get.

Don’t make me bring in the depresso espresso memes.

It took you a while to warm up to those who were pesistant in becoming your friend (I’m looking at you rodimus), so getting anywhere with him is going to take forever.

If your not at Swerve’s cracking jokes and getting into crazy shinanegans while Ultra Magnus just sits there with his helm in his servos, you’re either alone in your berth room or wandering the many halls of the Lost Light.

Normally Megs is too deep in thought to pay attention to notice most walking by, but his optics will set on you when he almost walks into your frame sat on the floor. But you’re too busy observing the stars outside one the windows to acknowledge him.

You would expect him to take a least a few times of running into you to actually realise that your processor was currently far away from being a happy place, but like I said, this guy’s been through shit.

One single look at you. And he knows.

The way your optics are dimmed already give off the tell tale sign that your mind is wandering places. Like, there’s a whole universe right in front of you, galaxies and technicolour planets passing by, you should be dreaming of the adventures you will have, yet you sit here, frame slouched, with a solemn empty look across your face.

Everything seems to stop still for Megatron as he stands there. Memories and nightmares flashing across his processor, bringing back glimpses of emotions that he wished to never feel again.

Everything about you screams loneliness, and he feels his spark shatter at the sight of you.

There is no way on Cybertron that he will let you experience the depression he did.

He won’t force any means of physical comfort upon you, since you could just push him away so easily if you wanted to.

All you hear are a shuffle of pedesteps and a gentle thump as he sits himself beside you, glancing at you once without uttering a word.

Through that single glance, he showed you that he understood, and reassured you that you’re not anywhere near alone in this universe. And he had your back.

Ultra Magnus

When you first boarded the Lost Light, you had blended in amongst the crowd and didn’t really speak up much.

Therefore it took Magnus quite a while to find out who you were.

The poor mech didn’t really have much time to make many friends, since he was too busy either speaking about statistics, or chasing Rodimus throughout the ship to try and prevent any disasters from taking place.

The first time he really noticed you is when you actually started to hang out with Roddy and the rest of the main crew.

He would see you dissappear around corners as you tried to avoid ending up in trouble with your fellow pranksters, or sitting at the bar as Swerve proceeded to die of hysterics at the joke you cracked.

He also saw you exit Rung’s a couple of times as he went in.

The first time he exchanged a conversation with you was at the bar with everyone else.

You were sat between Rung and him as you fiddled with your servos. He noticed that you were quieter than usual as you stared at the half empty energon in front of you.

He hadn’t had the slightest clue of what to say to you as you sat there. He was just downright confused as to why you weren’t being as loud as the others.

Suddenly a thought came to his mind as he recalled something.

While you were well known for being slightly disobedient when you joined Rodimus on his adventures, he was mildly surprised at how well your reports were laid out. You may be a funny prankster but your reports came on the dot, full of the right amount of detail that Magnus would be satisfied with.

So while it may had not been a great way to greet someone, he brought you out of your silent state by praising you on how well your reports were.

You looked up at him, slightly taken aback at the sudden gesture, but you returned it with a small smile and a quiet “thank you”.

He didn’t know straight away of you pessimistic states and episodes, but it didn’t take him a while to realise it either.

He would notice there would be times you would seclude yourself to a quiet space, and he would notice your seat to be empty at meetings every one in a while.

He’s a busy mech, so he can’t always pay attention to you, but in his free time, or when he is walking the halls, he would see if you were on your own or not.

He’d find you at a window or an empty room, and gently ask if you would like to accompany him in going over statistics or organising some files.

“Isn’t Roddy meant to assist you in that?” “Yes but he never does it properly and disappears within five minutes.”

Some things he offers to do with you may be boring, but it’s enough to keep you distracted and on the plus side you get to spend time with your favourite Magnus.

Fortress Maximus

He’s the type of mech to observe people, especially you, from a distance.

While others seem boring or just make him nervous, you’re the one who seems to catch his optic the most.

Because you confuse him.

One minute you’re laughing tears of lubricant out of you optics with Drift as Ratchet storms in, covered helm to pede in pink glitter glue, then the next you’re sat in the dark confines of your berthroom, the only light provided is a dull blue hue from the data pad you’re reading off, eyes absentmindedly scanning across, but never actually taking the words in.

It takes him a small amount of time to properly realise how deep of a state of pessimism you were in when you were experiencing these episodes from time to time, and somewhat understood how you felt, since this poor mech is one sensitive bby once you delve down deep enough.

The next few days are spent with Max confining himself to his own berthroom, making some begin to wonder where he had disappeared off to. Some thought he was just distancing himself (like me because of shitty corONA). But instead his was carefully thinking out some form of plan to try and eventually manage to keep you as your happy self 24/7.

He - somehow - convinced Red Alert to allow him access to a weeks worth of some security clips and gathered a basic routine of when the pessimistic mood would begin to set in by the way your body language started to shift slightly and slowly but surely, you drifted away from the crowd and eventually found yourself in the confines of your berth.

He’s not a stalker I swear.

He sensed your shy nature, and being a somewhat shy bean himself it took him a few minutes of mental preparation, but he managed to stop being a wallflower at Swerve’s when he spotted you come in.

You avoided the eyes of most as you were just there to grab some energon and whisk away back to the earth story you were reading in your berthroom. You eased your way through the small crowd, cringing at some of the loud laughs that reached your audios.

Reaching a clearing in front of the bar, you were about to open your intake to ask for a drink, when you felt a large presence loom behind you.

Turning around cautiously, you were met with a white and blue chest plate.

Your attention was taken away from the loud noises as your audios picked up a quiet “hello” as you looked up to meet a pair of nervous red optics.

Max knew he was big, even for a cybertronian, so he was concerned that his large presence gave off an intimidating demeanour, and it would scare you away.

However, much to his surprise and luck, you gave him a small smile and gave a quiet greeting in return.

You two spent the next few hours in a secluded booth in the corner of the bar exchanging mutual conversation while sipping on different concoctions of Swerve’s drinks.

You were enjoying the new company, basking in the presence of a fellow awkward cybertronian you could relate to. You found it cute as you found him staring at you, only too look away while staring down at the drink in his hands.

On the other hand, Fort Max was internally proud of himself managing to keep you from the depressing depths of your berth and also of you not avoiding any form of social contact for the night.

This carried on for a few months or so. Max kept up the effort to watch over you, becoming alert if you would suddenly leave in the evening or if there was nothing on. He would take another route, and catch your attention before you reached your room, gently asking you to join him on some sort of activity. Whether it was crafting something Rung recommended, or going star gazing.

In some way he would coax you out and put a smile on your face.

IDW Rung

You think you can get away from the observing eyes of god Rung the therapist?

After one appointment with you he could see that you weren’t as happy as you presented yourself to be.

There’s nothing much to say for this guy except for the fact that you keep going to these sessions with him.

You may not want to tell him everything but he tries his best to try and show that he understands you.

Instead of these meets going the same as most others, Rung will have you stay for longer and make it more interactive with things such as making crafts such as model ships, and also will tell you a story about each one.

Hell, he would sometimes book appointments for you, mostly in the evening when you weren’t busy.

You enjoy the company, but it also means poor Rung actually has a friend that talks to him more and frequently visit him.

You’ve never gotten his name wrong once.

And that puts a little smile on his face each time.

If he finds you in one of these states, he won’t say much at first. Just gently holding your servo as you both sit by a window until he quietly begins to tell you a story to get your mind off any negative thoughts.

Bayverse Optimus (aNgRy MaN)

Bruh

He feels you too

He’s lost too many friends he considers family

Has been known to go into pessimistic states himself

But doesn’t know if anyone else experiences these things like he does

When he watches you around base he sees you having lots of fun with the younger bots, pranking Ratchet or practising you abilities in the field with Ironhide.

In his attempt to make sure that no one really finds out or suffers when he’s in this depressive mood, he tends to worry about it in the dead of night when nobody is around.

Or so he thought.

He has takes up the opportunity to walk around base during the late hours, sometimes to sit and take in his surroundings while trying his best to push any bad thoughts to the back of his mind whilst he stargazes.

Only to find that looking at the stars reminds him how far away he is from home, since when he looks up, none of the flickering dots are familiar, and another wave of sorrow hits him.

This would happen almost every nights, unless he needed to rest up for a mission.

One night he was doing the same, recalling both good and bad memories, when his audios picked up a quiet screech, like metal on metal, from behind somewhere.

While it may have just been the wind, Optimus knew he needed to be alert for any surprise attacks from the Decepticons, so he got up as quietly as he could and spent the next couple of minutes attempting to locate the source of the noise.

Another very similar noise had led him up to the roof, but at their point he still didn’t know if this was a threat or not, so he cautiously lifted his helm over, a servo hovering over his blaster.

What he didn’t expect was to spot your silhouette in the moonlight, sat on the edge, staring into space, a solemn look on your face.

He was taken aback slightly at this sudden sight of you, since you were normally so bubbly, and had managed to bring out a low chuckle in him every once in a while.

Relaxed that it wasn’t Ravage skulking around, he was still concerned about you.

He would sit next to you and spend the next hour or so speaking quietly with you, finding out and understanding why you seemed so down.

While he wouldn’t mind staying out here with you for the remainder of the night, you both knew Ratchet would scold you both for not recharging properly, so he took you down silently to your berth, and stayed by your side until you were in deep slumber, then return to his own berth.

This happened almost every night, just the both of you basking in each other’s presence and company, and pointing out Earth constellations into the early hours of the morning.

Enjoy :)

Oppy out.

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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

BLIZZARD BLUES ⎯ myg

⇰ summary ; There’s a storm coming. Literally. And some idiot is standing outside singing Christmas carols.

⇰ pairing ; yoongi x fem!reader

⇰ genres ; strangers to friends to lovers[?], snowstorm!au, romance, fast burn [?]

⇰ themes ; fluff, a bit of crack

⇰ warnings ; talk of a natural disaster [blizzard], lots of banter, brief talk of male genitalia [balls lol], a bunch of sweetness

⇰ word count ; 1.8k

⇰ note ; Happy holidays everybody!! I hope that you all have a safe and happy day, no matter what you are celebrating. [Also this is largely unedited.] xx

It doesn’t always snow on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, when the sky feels selfish, it will open its clouds and welcome through the sunlight, especially harsh against the previous snowfall that is melting on the ground. What was once a white wonderland, snowflakes clustered together in a fine powder, becomes a muddy expanse of grass, dampened by the flowing tears of the melted icicles.

The magic of Christmas, so often associated with the pure white sheen of snowfall, is gone within hours of a clear sky.

But not today.

Today, the sky is selfish in a very distinctly opposite way.

“Temperatures will be reaching a record-low tonight, and snowfall is expected to only get heavier. With the possibility of a blizzard on the way, citizens are urged to stay indoors tonight.”

“Aish.” Licking droplets of mulled wine from your lips, you sigh at the latest news update. Just yesterday, you had been complaining of the warmth in the air, expecting yet another disappointment out of Christmas Eve. The universe seems to have answered your pessimism with a natural disaster.

Thankfully, you are one of the many lucky ones with a roof over your head tonight. The townhouse is small by standard means, but it feels so big to you. Though it may be cosy, it holds everything that is important to you, every memory that you have collected over your life, every momentum that has ever brought you joy. It is an extension of yourself, of your innermost being, and now it even protects you from the howling wind that you can hear picking up outside.

As you sit in front of your roaring fireplace, wrapped in blankets and listening to the Michael Bublé christmas album play on your scratchy record player, you think that maybe this is serenity; this feeling of calm, of contentment, when chaos surrounds you.

A harsh knock at your front door breaks through the sound of the wind.

At first, you think that maybe it was a trick of the mind, or perhaps a branch hitting a window, but the rapid knock-knock-knock against the wood is far too deliberate to be a mistake. Plus, when it’s followed by several more⎯⎯less patient⎯⎯knocks, you know that someone is here. At your house. At ten o’clock at night, as a blizzard is brewing.

It takes a moment to detangle yourself from your comfortable cocoon of blankets, but you eventually shuffle to the door as quickly as your cold toes [the things just never seem to be warm] will allow. You’re expecting an emergency official telling you to evacuate, or a neighbour asking to borrow supplies.

You don’t expect a shivering, disgruntled man reluctantly singing ‘Oh Christmas Tree’.

“Your boughs so green in summertime...stay bravely green in wintertime...O tannenbaum, O Christmas Tree...How lovely are thy branches…”

“Are you seriously carolling right now?”

The man stops his ‘singing’ to glare at you, as if you’ve just interrupted the most important performance of his life. “Hey, either let me finish the song or let me move on. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“No, but like, why are you singing at all? Didn’t you see the news?” The chill of the wind is biting at you even through all of your layers, so you don’t know how he’s surviving right now.

The man sighs, the air fogging in front of his face. “Look, lady, I lost a bet, okay? I gotta sing these carols, and I’m not backing out just because it feels like my internal organs are shutting down. So, what’ll it be? I can take song requests, if you’re feeling spicy.”

It takes you barely a moment to make your decision. “Option C. Come here.”

And you all but drag him into your house.

“Y’know, this could be considered kidnapping,” the stranger says as he slides out of his soaked jacket and toes off his boots. Despite his words, he doesn’t seem at all reluctant to be within your warm abode. “You could at least take me to dinner before inviting me in.’

His voice sounds harsh, mean even, but for some reason you aren’t intimidated by him. Maybe it’s the way his nose shines pink from the cold.

“Well,” you say, already gathering some towels for him, “it seems as though you haven’t watched the news in the last three hours. There’s a blizzard on the way, buddy, and you looked about halfway to frozen already. I thought that I would save the neighbours the trauma of digging your body out of the snow.”

“How considerate.”

“What’s your name, by the way? Since I’m extending my home and hospitality to you. I’m Y/N.”

“Yoongi. Also, you barely extended anything. More like forced. But, I’m a kind man, so I’ll let you believe that you’re being selfless. It is Christmas, after all.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, mister Yoongi.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me mister.”

“Whatever. You should go take a shower to warm up, I should have some of my dad’s clothes for you to wear. I also have a shit-tonne of blankets and a big pot of mulled wine, so whenever you’re done just come downstairs and sit by the fire. And don’t steal anything. Or piss on the carpets.”

“Oddly specific, but okay. Thanks, generous kidnapper.”

Yoongi takes nearly an hour before he re-emerges from upstairs, to the point where you wonder if he’s actually pissing in your carpets. He looks clean, though, and flushed with warmth. And absolutely adorable in the ugly, oversized Christmas sweater that you laid out for him.

“This is fucking horrendous.”

A snort escapes you at his blunt statement, watching as he sinks into an armchair opposite you. His hair is sticking out from where he’s hastily dried it. “Thank you. My dad is the reigning champion in his workplace ugly sweater competition. He takes immense pride in inducing nausea. Want some wine?”

“Absolutely.”

When you pass him a mug, the liquid steaming and aromatic, he seems to pause, hesitation in the grip of his fingers. You give him the time he needs to arrange his words.

“I guess, um...thank you. For bringing me inside.” Yoongi isn’t meeting your eyes, but the tips of his ears are turning pink. “I was probably too stubborn to realise how bad it was and...I don’t know, it could’ve ended up really bad. So. Thanks.”

“Hey.” His eyes flicker up, briefly, but enough to see the bashfulness hiding behind all that sarcasm. “It’s seriously fine, but you’ve got to make a habit out of taking care of yourself. I’ve known you for two hours and even I can tell that you don’t take yourself very seriously. Hell, I could’ve been a serial killer, and you still just walked into my house.”

“I could’ve been a serial killer as well, hypocrite.”

“Killer Caroller does have a certain ring to it,” you admit. He’s deflecting, but you accept the divergence easily. “So, mister serial killer-”

“Don’t call me mister.”

“-Why don’t you tell me about yourself? There’s a chance that you’ll be here for a little while, so we may as well become acquainted.”

Taking a lingering sip from his mug, Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the fire before him. “My name is Yoongi, I’m a Pisces, and I enjoy long walks on the beach.”

“Romantic.”

“I was born in Daegu.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m a music producer.”

“Impressive.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though they hold more mirth than annoyance. “Oh, and what about you, miss charity? Tell me about yourself.”

Biting back a chuckle, you reposition yourself in the armchair to face him better. “Well, my name is Y/N, and I have never been to a beach.”

“That’s sad.”

“I take self-defense classes.”

“Convenient.”

“And I’m a social worker.”

“Very fitting.”

The quick banter between the two of you pulls a smile across your face before you can tamp it down, but it seems like Yoongi is fighting one of his own.

Somehow, you have both converged to your larger couch, huddled together in a wine-drunk, giggly mess.

“No, I seriously would’ve won! But then he totally caught me off guard. I was sabotaged.”

Yoongi’s recounting of the story of how he lost his bet is nothing short of hysterical. “This Jeongguk guy sounds like a menace,” you say, throwing your legs over his lap. “I mean, who swings their balls in a friend’s face just to distract them? That’s just low.”

“Right?!” His voice is so loud, but your little bubble is barely disturbed. “And they were all hairy, too. I swear that I found a pube in my hoodie.”

This sets you off, for some reason, and your chest erupts in light giggles. Yoongi has only told you a few stories about his six male friends, and it has filled you with a kind of joy that you don’t remember ever feeling.

“It’s just...I bet that women aren’t this immature with each other. Am I right?”

You hum. “Sort of, but also not really. A friend of mine once stole my diva cup just because she was mad at me for using her hair brush. I tried to explain that it was an accident, but man was she pissed.”

Yoongi pauses. “What’s a diva cup?”

Blinking at the man that you’re draped across, you bring a hand up to pat his soft cheek. “Oh, honey,” you whisper, offering a small smile.

Slowly but suddenly, his hand comes up to cover yours, keeping it on his face. Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t notice.

“You’re really nice,” he says. His pupils are blown from drinking, and maybe from your faces being so close. Your cheeks are flushed for the same reasons. “And totally not a serial killer.”

“I’m still undecided about you,” you joke, breathing out a laugh. “But I do know that you’re pretty nice, too. And not as bad of a guest as I thought you might be.”

“Is it-” Yoongi cuts himself off, takes a slow breath as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he seems determined, if a little nervous. “Is it weird if I say that I enjoy spending time with you? And would, maybe, want to spend more time with you in the future?”

A lazy grin stretches your cheeks as you tuck yourself a little closer to him. It’s peculiar, maybe, that you’ve just met a man that you feel you’ve known your whole life. Curious, perhaps, that conversation with him feels more natural than with most people you know.

But weird?

No, you don’t think so.

“No. Not weird.” You lean forward a bit, shyly; wait for him to maybe do the same. “You do owe me the rest of a Christmas carol, after all.

He does lean forward, just a bit, and just as shy.

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eirist · 3 years

Text

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

ATTIRE ON FIRE

One-shot #: 26

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Slight suggestions)

Note: I’m kinda on a scribble roll here. Well actually, I’m trying to lessen my files. This idea came from an SBS that I read a few years back. I already drafted this one-shot right after that and forgot about it.

Summary: All of a sudden he was standing directly in front of her, looking down at her with a glint in his grey eye that tells her he’s gonna get retribution.

"Alright. Wear this!"

Something suddenly hit Zoro's face without warning. Cursing, he made a grab for it and an irritated expression appeared on his normally stoic face. He stared at the shirt in his hand before shifting half of his gaze to the orange-haired girl across him.

"Why?"

"Because," Nami placed both of her hands on her hips before pointing at the clothes he hastily threw on before running out of the men’s quarters after he heard her screeching his name. "Everything on you hurts my eyes!"

Zoro looked down at what he is wearing and frowned. "Then don't look!" He growled angrily before throwing the shirt right back at her face.

Nami let out a yelp when it hit her. She pulled the cloth away from her face before marching towards him.

"You are changing your clothes Zoro!" She forcefully shoved the shirt back into his arms, earning her a disgruntled ‘oi’. "I won't have you walking with me like this one big, fashion disaster that you are!" She gestured from his head down to his toes with one hand. “Unless you are trying to be a tree, I don’t know how you can think that that green and brown color combination will work!”

"The hell I care about how I look!" The tall lad snapped at her.

There was a pause and navigator's eyes narrowed into tiny, dangerous slits. And everyone who was outside the Sunny’s deck swore that at that very moment the sky turned dark and ominous as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled—a foreboding sign.

Zoro met Nami’s gaze directly, unflinchingly. Petty things like clothes don’t bother him at all. As long as there is something to wear no matter how ugly it is, he doesn’t give any shit about it.

Besides, like he’d let her have her way. Again. He already agreed to accompany her to town and be her pack mule for the day. And that was after she interrupted his post-lunch nap with all her shrieking.

Wasn’t that enough already?

"You. Are. Changing." Nami hissed through gritted teeth, punctuating each word threateningly.

“No. I’m. Not.” Zoro answered back, folding his arms across his chest with a huff.

"You are changing,” Nami repeated tautly. “Or I swear I'm gonna call Robin and have her use her devil fruit powers to pin you down while I change your clothes for you!"

Zoro look astounded for a second. Did she just threaten him with Robin?

Now this is something new. Whatever happened to the usual debt threats Nami loves subjecting him to?

Regardless, like hell he's gonna let the Hana Hana no mi user lay her multiple hands on him.

“Come on Nami, you can do better than that,” he snorted. “Now you’re using that gloomy woman to—”

“Ara, how rude…” Robin cut him off suddenly as she entered the room.

Zoro stiffened despite himself. After all, the story of Franky’s first-hand experience from Robin’s power was enough to give any Mugiwara man nightmares.

Even if that happened two years ago.

The archeologist glanced momentarily at the swordsman, her gaze piercing. Zoro did his best not to move or make another sound lest she breaks his neck.

Nami caught his reaction and a menacing smile appeared on her face. “Robin!” She exclaimed chirpily. “You’re just right on time!”

“Need help Nami?” With an ominous smile gracing her beautiful face, Robin inquired as she headed towards her side of the bed. “Is Zoro giving you trouble?”

Zoro glared scathingly at her. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself right in time.

Nami eyes met Zoro’s as she answered smugly. “Yes he is!” Her gaze dared the green-haired man to contradict her.

It was Zoro’s turn to grit his teeth at her. But he still he held his tongue. He learned long ago never to butt heads with two women at the same time.

One is enough. And he already had his hands full with Nami. He didn’t need Robin joining the navigator in making his life more miserable in the ship. Though Robin is sensible most of the times… but she does have this weird affinity for scaring the shit out of her nakamas for her own amusement.

“Need a hand?” Robin coolly asked as she busily perused the pile of books on her night stand.

“No she doesn’t!” Zoro fiercely stated.

“Yes I do!” Nami answered at the same time.

Both glared daggers at each other as Robin chuckled. Oh, she’s used to it by now. After all, Zoro and Nami’s never-ending disagreements are always a source of entertainment on their ship.

“I don’t see what the hell is wrong with what I’m wearing.” Zoro finally grumbled.

Nami scowled in answer. “Everything.”

He snorted. “It’s just clothes woman.”

“An awful choice of clothes!”

“Why the hell do I need to dress up Nami?” Zoro complained, his tone cranky. “You’re just gonna use me as your pack mule for the day. Why do I need to look good for that?”

“I want my mule to look dashing.”

He scoffed. “Then take ero-cook! He does it better.”

Nami raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” she mouthed, a bit exaggeratedly. “So you admit there is something Sanji-kun’s better than you at?”

Silence.

And Robin fought the urge to giggle out loud. With the mention of their cook’s name, Zoro’s bound to hit the roof soon enough.

“That ero kappa will never be better than me at anything!” Zoro exploded.

“That’s not true, Sanji-kun’s better than you at cooking!”

Robin can actually feel Zoro seething from the other side of room. Trust Nami to rile him up so easily. Though she knows that after so much resistance (and shouting) from Zoro’s part… it will still end up the way it usually does. Their swordsman catering to Nami’s whims regardless of how inane it is.

Well, it’s actually good since there’s no need for her to use her powers. With how strong Zoro is, she doubts if she’ll be able to hold him down long enough.

That would be tiresome. She thought with an inward sigh.

Guess it’s just Zoro’s nature to go and face the enemy head on even if there’s no chance of winning.

With her chosen book in hand, the older woman turned to watch her friends. They are still glaring and gritting their teeth at each other. Robin took it as her cue to exit the room.

Whatever happens between her two nakamas after this, she’d rather not be caught across the crossfire no matter how amusing.

“Alright,” Nami suddenly sighed in a dejected manner, surprising Zoro when she gave up easily. “You can go and do whatever you want.”

Zoro stared at her in astonishment.

“I’ll just ask Sanji-kun to accompany me.” She began to tap a finger to her cheek as if she was thinking. "What was it that Luffy said?” Her brows furrowed as Zoro bristled, apparently aware of what was coming. “Oh! Worth a thousand men." She threw a sugar-sweet smile at Zoro. “Guess that is so true after all.”

That was all it took for Zoro to relent.

“Damn it! I’m changing alright!” Zoro barked as he shot Nami a venomous glare while the girl gave him a triumphant smirk that could rival a shark’s.

“Very good Zoro!” Nami gleefully nodded in approval, reveling at the fact that she won against the him for the umpteenth time. “Do it now. I promise I won’t peek.”

Zoro’s glare was enough to rival the coldness of Aokiji’s devil fruit powers.

And Robin just shook her head slightly at the already expected outcome.

“I’ll leave you two here,” she said with a small smile. Zoro was growling as he removed his shirt. Totally unbothered by their presence. “And Nami,” Robin called out to get the mapmaker’s attention who’s attention was fixed quite intently at the now stripping swordsman. We’ll be docking at the island’s port in half an hour according to Franky’s calculation.”

“If you have time, you can check if he is right.” She suggested, moving towards the room’s exit. A disembodied hand appeared to open the door’s knob even before she reached it.

“That is… if you’re not busy trying not to ‘peek’ while Zoro changes his clothes,” she said with a sly wink at Nami before exiting.

“ROBIN!” Nami all but screamed at her friend as the disembodied hand gave them a wave before closing the door and vanishing in a swirl of pinkish-white petals.

But not before surreptitiously locking it.

Nami turned beet red at that. Trust Robin to insinuate that and give Zoro something to tease her about.

A discarded shirt hit her. She scowled and her attention returned to the former pirate hunter who was unbuttoning his pants.

She glowered at him. “Don’t just strip down to your underwear like I’m not even here you moron! You could learn some modesty you know.”

“I don’t wanna hear that coming from you.” Zoro retorted before throwing his pants at her.

“HEY!”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re now being shy and all.” The grin on his face was vicious. “Besides, nothing here you haven’t seen before Nami.”

Blood rushed to her face at his statement. But definitely not because she was embarrassed or anything.

She didn’t answer and instead, grabbed the clothes she had picked for him earlier, throwing them at right at his face.

“Shut up and just get dressed Zoro. We’re wasting time!” She said with a huff. Kami knows how he needs direction with what is appropriate to wear just as how he needs direction with which way to go.

“I swear, you, Luffy and Chopper needs all the help you can get when it comes to fashion,” she muttered exasperatedly, as Zoro finished changing his clothes. She gave him a glance over and nodded approvingly. “That’s a heck lot better. You don’t look much of an eyesore now.”

“Oh good,” Zoro drawled sarcastically. “If this gets you off my back then I’m all for it.”

Nami beamed at him. “Glad we finally came to some kind of an agreement. If I get to dress you, then it would be less complaining from me, ne?”

Zoro remained passive at her declaration. “Great,” he grumbled rather sarcastically. “So you get to dress me now Nami?”

“If it makes you look better, then yes of course.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her before a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “Guess I have to return the favor then.”

Nami blinked. And when she realized what he was pertaining to she shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, no, no! You don’t get to dress me Zoro! Not in this life or the next!”

All of a sudden he was standing directly in front of her, looking down at her with a glint in his grey eye that tells her he’s gonna get retribution. “You’re mistaken.” He said with a sneer.

He stole a glanced on the room’s door that Robin conveniently locked earlier.

“What do you mean?”

“You get to dress me? Then I get to undress you.”

Addendum: According to SBS Volume 37: Luffy, Zoro and Chopper cannot dress up on their own. If they do, it’s because either Sanji, Usopp, Nami or Robin is with them. It has merit. Remember that blue tank top in Skypiea that made Zoro look so hot? We have Nami to thank for that.

And Zoro does not really care about clothes and all but it’s just fun to play with this fact.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #roronoa zoro #nami

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writing-frenzy · 3 years

Text

Seer!Airplane + Harem AU

Brain: Let’s give SQH a Harem :D

Me: SQH doesn’t know what to do with himself, he wouldn’t know what the fick to do with a harem :|

Brain: :D of course, the man doesn’t realize he even has one.

Me:... wut

Brain: And here is the totally new AU drabbled and noted out for how it happens~

....

So, my brain gave me this, so I hope to infect others with it as well.

Ever since Airplane (Shang Huan), was young, he’s always had strange dreams and an interesting ability with words and languages. Not to mention just how he always seemed to know certain things, simple really, like how he knew to bring an umbrella one sunny day that wouldn’t remain that way, to even what paths to take to avoid the bullies in his life. He’s grown this way, never noticed it was strange or unusual, and with parents more focused on tearing each other apart and ignoring any memories of when they were together, Airplane figures it’s just like the rest of his anxieties and worries, though at least the knowing can get him out of being beaten up or a perfect sale at the supermarket.

(The nightmares aren’t worth it; nameless amounts of people, that if he looks too hard at, he can know their entire backstories and futures no longer possible, cut short for blood and sport and greed.)

It is only one day, with desperation and hunger biting in his being, dreams stolen and ruined by others (And how was it, did he know this was still the best outcome? What could be worse- no, don’t ask that, it could always lead to ruin that question-) that Airplane, with only his little talent for script writing and his nightmares to aid him, starts to write, hoping for just enough money to get dinner eventually.

It... proves surprisingly popular. Just write what he dreams, maybe embellish here and there, take out that part, work around here, and just ignore that certain event and hey, this story is surprisingly coming together well. Are there a few plot holes? Sure, but considering the literal mass grave of answers for those holes, Airplane is content to leave them like that (pleasedon’tmakehimwritethatseeingitwasalreadyhorrifyinghedoesnotwanttoreliveit).

Things are going good; all his hospital bills that his father’s insurance doesn’t cover have been paid, his rent money has already been turned in, and hey, he even has some extra cup noodles. How can life get any better? (thedreamscouldstop-)

And then the world turns strange; weird creatures have started to be discovered, strange flora has been unearthed, and natural disasters seem to not be so natural as once thought.

Not to mention just how people have changed as well; or if they were ever regular people at all. Some seem to turn feral, no mind to think with as they act like zombies all of a sudden, supernatural feats of strength suddenly coming about...

Strangers suddenly flying about on swords, letting loose great shows of light...

Airplane ignores it; it’s all he can do. (Thereisnothingtobedonebutwait.) He codes for his story, makes some noodles to enjoy as he reads some comments, and naturally dies. (right on time)

Airplane is admittedly taken off guard when he actually wakes up, back in his crappy little apartment, terrible bruising all up his arms (therearesomanypathssolittletime), when he looks around and sees the change in the world.

And he knows; his stories are no longer mere words and nightmares anymore, but now combined with his waking world, now and forever.

- Read under for more notes and such on this world~

So, basically, Airplane/Shang Huan has been dreaming of the world where his stories takes place, the PIDW world, and using it to make money because he is a desperate little gremlin. (Now, with his powers, he can see multiple paths, and all, but he doesn’t see everything, especially if he himself changes fate, making the paths shrink and become a little more hazy.)

So one day, his world and PIDW world merge, causing countless calamities and disasters, even as the world heals and blossoms under it all. See, what happens is that when Bing-ge’s Harem finally turned on him and all (I don’t know if this is canon or fanon but it fits), Bing-ge in turn used the Wrath of the Heavens, which is not something even the craziest of Heavenly Demons would do if that says anything, which wreck a whole bunch of shit and mashed a few planes of existence together.

A lot of people died because of this... and yet, a lot of peeps were brought back because of this as well. Airplane did in fact die because of being electrocuted, but because of that, the energy left from the WOH merged with it, ending up kickstarting and powering him up instead of killing him outright.

And it is a very good thing SQH got that power up; he is going to have so many nightmares about it, but being able to manipulate, control, and use electricity and lightening are what ensure him survival for a good month before his city is made livable again. (He would do worse to survive, has done worse, what is a little electrical trauma in the name of his life?)

And look, even his intuition and foresight seemed to have greatly improved! Yay? (Nay so many n i g h t m a r e s)

He’ll be fine, he can walk it off. But as it is, Airplane starts to be rather... lucky with some of his finds.

Ironically, it starts with a man dressed in pale blues, eye tired and ever so dead, blood covering his fancy fantasy robes, a familiar crest/symbol (To Airplane) stitched over where the heart would be. A Traitor abused and used up, nothing left but rock bottom and yet still willing to dig if it meant living. (Oh, how that rings familar~)

Airplane has seen the past of Shang Family’ Honorable Third Son Shang Shaoqing and the future of the backstabing An Ding Peak Lord Shang Qinghua. Airplane knows that this is a desperate man who has done all he could to survive, with the mind like so many steel traps and mazes to dig around in...

Airplane saves them, avoiding a slow death the man would have had, earning him gratitude and suspicion all at once. The Writer doesn’t care, he just knows that having this guy on his side is just a logical choice; the man not only has more insider knowledge then anyone else in the world, but even knows how to use it.

On Shang Qinghua’s side.

With all the karmatic debt I have, I can not avoid this Life Debt... but once I pay my debt, I am gonna blow this popsicle stand.

Huh, this guy is actually kinda useful, maybe I should stick around

OH FUCK WHY DOES HE HAVE HEAVENLY TRIBULATION LIGHTNING?! HE NEEDS TO START CULTIVATING STAT

WHY IS THIS MAN SUCH A DISASTER?!?! NOW I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T GET HURT.

*Airplane tenderly taking care of his injuries, nervous smile on his face even as it is so soft* “You didn’t have to take that attack but... thank you for having my back” SdndejnejdbbhjD no, you have no right looking so cute, fuck why is this happening?!

.... This man is a fucking Seer... Actual, full blown, Doomsayer Seer, Not the Succubus Soothsayers who can just see little things, no, actual, can literally effect the fabric of Fate and Destiny Seer.... Fuck his life, he probably owes this guy even more now...

*Shang Qinghua snarks in response, only to get equally snarked in reply* .... I won’t say I’m in love...

Fuck, if anything happens to his disaster of a Seer he will go on a massacre and then probably become a demonic cultivator to revive him...

So yeah, over the course of maybe a few months, Shang Qinghua has regretsTM and Airplane gets an actually loyal bodyguard... Meanwhile~

Airplane: -Sigh- As nice as it is to have Shang Qinghua around, it won’t last forever; once the man pays back his debt, he just leave (like everyone else).

And then time for drama! The two get separated by unsteady space rips, Airplane having enough time to yell out a safe place for them to meet again before they end up on opposite sides to each other. So now, not only does Airplane have to work on surviving, but on the (hopeful) reunion between the two.

Cue Airplane’s next ‘Lucky Find’

Airplane hears the sound of sword and spell before he ever actually sees anything. Looking over the top of his nice ledge, safe enough from from any ‘friendly fire’, the young man feels his eyes widen when he sees who is fighting.

A beautiful, tall man in cream and tan colored robes, the ashen brunet directing their sword around them, using their other hand to throw out talismans when too crowded. And oh, how the mob surrounds this tired, too kind man, so weary for lost, all his grief stricken love no where to go in the lost of his family. (Oh, how jealous one can be, that someone got that love, no matter how fleeting it was in the end)

Airplane taking in Mu Qingfang, a healer forced to be a killer, a man with so much heartbreak in his soul, even as he determinedly live on, that shattered heart still wanting to help as much as it could. The Seer takes on how the other will die here, nothing left at all of such a heart, and in the end, Airplane helps, letting loose lightning upon the mob as he does.

Just makes sense, to have a Healer with you if you can.

On Mu Qingfang’s side:

This man is terrifying, how does he have tribulation lightning at his command??? but he did save me there, it’s only right I accompany him until I can pay it off (not like I have other things to do)

I am very, very grateful you saved me, but can you for all that is health PLEASE REST?!

Oh to the gods, how is a disaster like you alive? No, don’t eat that!

*Airplane, a tired smile on his face as he shows off some potent healing herbs he found* “I managed to find them, a little tricky but I was wondering if you can make use of them, maybe? I remember you saying you were running low and all.” .... damn his heart for being weak to sincere care and actually thoughtful gifts.

*after a terrifying nightmare, Airplane nearly bleeding from his screams, eyes so haunted and terrified even as he clings onto Mu Qingfang* “Please, I-I I just don’t want to be alone right now... please.” bjhbdjd shit, how can he say no, letting the other cling to them as they finally fall asleep. (Do not think about how cute the other is, cuddled up against him)

...A Seer... a fully realized, Fate altering, Destiny denying Seer... Gods, that explains so damn much... Maybe he can make him a Dreamless Night tea? would at least help with headaches if nothing else.

And so, over the time they have together, Airplane has unknowingly received the care and affection of one powerful as heck healer, who can and will be willing to cut a bitch if it means they have to.

But on Airplane: *le sigh* ah, once they feel like I’m well enough, they’re probably go back to trying to find their Martial Brothers and Sisters.... I’ll at least help them as much as I can...

Now, they don’t get separated: which is good, considering this next er... ‘Lucky’ Find.

They feel the temperature drop before they ever actually see the cause. Warily, the two men look to each other, but with no other way around it, move forward through the incredibly icy landscape.

It does not take them long to find the cause of it.

It is a Demon, Skin pale with a ghostly blue tint to their skin, beautiful snow white antlers branching out from their hand, ice collecting on the ends to make them even more deadly beautiful then before. And yet, for all that deadly beauty, are those ice like eyes, backdropped in the night sky look ever so tired, so betrayed (like always)

Mo Bolin, formerly Mobei-Jun is not one who has nothing left, but his willpower is draining, trapped as he is between the cursed artifact before him, no hope to escape it unless someone is willing to help.

Airplane sees this demon, this man who he greatly admired and aspired to be like, able to stand on their own and keep standing no matter what, no matter what the world came at them with, no matter the misery that had twisted a previously loving and warm child into the hardened, determined Warrior before him.

Letting his Lightning destroy the Artifact, the world weary youth takes the demon’s face in his hands, letting those icy night eyes look into his lightning bright ones, Mu Qingfang quiet but his sword at the ready behind him.

It will not be needed, as his Seer powers go to work.

“You find so much betrayal, just seemingly never able to escape it.

You soul has had so much darkness and hurt just let sit.

You Fate is said to be a cruel one for a cruel being,

Hurt, fear, blood, Ice, and broken bonds and dreams are all I am seeing,

I do Not agree.

So, From this wicked Fate I will set you free.” and as those eyes stare into each other, Mo Bolin can’t stop how he gasps, hand going to his heart, feeling lighter then he has in years.

Meanwhile, Airplane faints, having healed a better Fate for the former Mobei-Jun draining him good.

On Mobei-Jun’s Part

sdhkhbfwkkjdejdehjdehj Why? Just Why? What’s the reason the Seer did that?

Well, considering what he did, Mobei/Mo Bolin will have to find a way to pay the other back.

...Why is this Seer so Cute? He wants to pet it. (note: hitting will make the Healer stab him)

*Airplane, tired out from a long day having to fight through a bit battle, smiling in thanks, help Mu Qingfang with patching everyone up* “You know, I really admire you; your strength and determination to always do your best, no matter how many people try to tear you down... I wish I could be like that.” wait what, no, you’re perfect like you are, you little gremlin seer. (Mu Qingfang agrees.)

*Airplane, suffering from a Fever, which means he has to cuddle with a certain Ice Demon to cool down* “Ah, sorry for troubling you like this, my ideal man, but you are so cool... *snuggles* .... Damnit.

Like, Mobei-Jun/Mo Bolin knows Airplane can kick some ass already, but by the ancestors does he love seeing this little disaster of a man just wreck everyone around him.

So yeah, add one very smitten Demon Lord to the roster~ :D Oh, the loyalty was hard earned, and there is no way Mobei-Jun will be willing to part, even as he has to share with a Healer and whoever this Shang-Er they will be seeing soon.

For Airplane: ah, so cool to see my Ideal Man, but of course there is no way he’ll stay by my side forever, what with all the things he probably needs to do.

and this is all I got for the Harem on my side: now for the dynamics with each other:

Mobei-Jun and Mu Qingfang: the demon respects the healer greatly, and since they are both quiet peeps they don’t have much conflict. as for the Healer, after his sect got destroyed, he’s had to do a lot of things to make sure him and his surviving disciples lived, so he’s not too against demons, and Mobei-Jun is very useful in fighting, so for now they cool.

Both when they see Shang Qinghua; ... D:<

On Mobei-Jun’s side: his little traitorous spy just had to be back and be that Shang-Er close to Airplane. He does not like this, wants to smack the other around, but that would upset Airplane So he just glares. Shang Qinghua is not happy with this arrangement either, fully prepared to curse the other out and everything, but not going to stir the pot up more then he has to.

On Mu Qingfang: .... his backstabing martial brother is alive, but the thing is that Mu Qingfang and his disciples wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for the other; Shang Qinghua had saved them, transporting them away from the bloodshed that was about to happen. On Shang Qinghua’s part, the Healer was the only Peak Lord to give him any damn respect and care, so he of course gave him an out along with his own peak disciples; he pays back debts.

(This is ironically the reason he got killed by Mobei-Jun, because he saved those disciples)

So, there is much drama for a while, the three having big shouting matches and discourse, but these guys will turn into Enemies to Frenemies to Salt Lords and then to the Airplane Protection squad... because when these three get together and agree on something, well, you just combined the only competent people from PIDW together~

And they all love Airplane :D

Thank you all for reading the insanity of this, I enjoyed writing it out~

#SVSSS #Scum Villain Self Saving System #Scum Villain Self-Saving System #Shang Qinghua #Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky #SVSSS AU #Seer!Airplane AU #OG!Shang Qinghua #Mu Qingfang #Mobei-Jun

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retrievablememories · 4 years

Text

a strange love | yuta (m)

title: a strange love pairing: alien!yuta x black!reader genre: sci-fi/fantasy, fluff, angst, smut request: “I read a good chunk of your NCT work and really liked them. Would I be able to request a fic where a black female reader meets an alien (can be Yuta or Jungwoo) and they're both coming to terms that they're attracted to each other and have to come to terms with being attracted to someone of a different species? Can be smutty and don't be afraid to give the alien a less human biology if you don't mind.” word count: 13.1k warnings: alcohol use, cursing, near drowning experience, lots of mentions of water so this one might not mesh well with people w/ aquaphobia, non-human biology/body horror, extraterrestrial sex, lots of cum, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle dick, unprotected sex, creampie, please heed the warnings because this is an alien smutfic lmao a/n: giving the shape of water teas. i’ve actually never seen that movie 😕 but i will at some point. forgive me in advance for the nerdy references in here.

It’s funny how things happen when you least expect it. You never would’ve thought you’d be sound asleep when your entire world changed.

The night the UFO crashes in your city, you’re awoken by the tremors of its landing. The vibrations feel akin to an earthquake, and they make picture frames and other trinkets fall off your shelves and hit the floor in a clatter of noise. You jump up from your pillow at the racket, your heart pounding. You glance at the things lying on your floor and quickly register that the room—your entire home—is trembling.

There’s not much you can do at this point but ride it out, so you huddle down in your covers and hope the roof doesn’t cave in on your head. To your knowledge, your particular area isn’t known for earthquakes, which makes all of this even stranger. What could be causing one now? Is the world finally ending?

Eventually, the tremors stop. By now, your shelves have been emptied of nearly all their contents, but you’re still alive, which you’re grateful for. You wait a few more minutes to see if the shakes will begin again, but they don’t, so you climb out from the warmth of your covers to clean up your floor.

Police and ambulance sirens start blaring through the city not long after you get out of bed. That’s nothing unusual; there are usually injuries and casualties with natural disasters like these, and you expect many poor souls will be needing rescue tonight. You sigh and look at your closed blinds, watching them be sporadically illuminated by the lights of the emergency vehicles rushing past.

Once you’ve cleaned up your room and gotten back in bed, you think about checking social media for what people have been saying about the quake. There’s no doubt that the city’s residents have taken to Twitter and Instagram to document it. However, your eyelids are already starting to droop, and you’d probably fall asleep in the middle of scrolling, so you decide to tuck in and wait until morning.

Waking up the next day almost seems like a normal Sunday until you look at your blinds again and are suddenly reminded of last night’s flashing lights. Right. The earthquake. Throwing the covers back, you stumble out of bed to turn on your TV. You flip through the channels until you find a news station for your local area. You go to open the blinds, keeping your ears open for reports on the earthquake.

“Last night, we experienced unprecedented seismic activity throughout the majority of the city, caused by what appears to be an unidentified flying object, otherwise known as a UFO—”

Huh?

You turn to the TV, thinking this must be some kind of ridiculous hoax. You get ready to reach for the remote, thinking you must have turned it to one of those parody news channels by accident, but you freeze at what you see. Video footage of the city center—or what used to be the city center—plays on the screen. In place of the large historical monument that used to stand there, there’s a huge...silver and black spaceship. Or at least you think it’s a ship. It apparently sustained major damage in the landing, and now it looks more like a hunk of melted metal. The area around it has been blasted clear in every direction. Instead of green grass and pavement, there’s nothing but dirt.

The area is blocked off with yellow tape, though hundreds of people have gathered at the location to check out the object and take pictures and videos of it.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to yourself.

“We’re currently unsure where this UFO originated from, though we can confirm that it is not affiliated with any aircraft fleets owned by the U.S. military. Researchers and scientists from top universities across the country are being called in to assist in identifying this craft…”

“There’s no just way,” you mutter, grabbing your shower cap and pulling clothes out of your closet for your morning shower. “A UFO...guess that alien invasion is coming sooner than we thought.” You would like to believe it’s all just someone playing a terrible prank, but pulling off this level of theatrics is impossible.

After you get out of the shower and start making breakfast for yourself, you get a text from one of your coworkers, Alex.

10:30 A.M. Alex🍸 You seeing this shit on the news right now?

10:31 A.M. Obviously! It’s fucking wild. Do you really think it’s true? OR some elaborate government hoax? Anything’s possible. I’m betting “true,” but...

10:33 A.M. Alex🍸 I honestly don’t know. that’s why me and some of the others from work are about to head over there now. Wanna come?

10:34 A.M. The hell! I’ll pass. There could be all types of radiation n shit, I’m not tryna turn into the Green Lantern or the Hulk or somebody.

10:35 A.M. Alex🍸 lmFAO. Suit ypurself. If I gain superpowers don’t be surprised if I fly over to your house today.

10:35 A.M. You’re a mess. 💀

You spend breakfast watching more news reports and scrolling through Twitter feeds for firsthand information. People who visited the site, including your coworkers, have uploaded pictures of the UFO from various angles, inciting a frenzy of conspiracy theories and warnings that the world is about to end.

You don’t know what to make of the situation, but it stays on your mind throughout the day as you leave the house and go about completing your usual errands. The city center has been blocked off to all vehicles other than those belonging to people who’ve been called in to help, which means that traffic is sky-high everywhere else—even for a Sunday.

Sitting in a mishmash of cars, you roll down your window and sigh, looking out at the red traffic lights, and beyond that to the horizon. Things are about to get very weird for the next few weeks. Maybe months. You can only hope you’re prepared for it.

You don’t know why, but the air seems strange tonight.

It’s been 2 days since the UFO crashed. There haven’t been many more answers apart from what everyone already knows due to the ship’s destroyed state. The city has professionals out for that sort of thing, but they’re taking their sweet time analyzing the ship—though you can’t really blame them. Jumping straight into unknown alien tech seems like a death wish.

Your life has been pretty much the same as usual, though you know a few people at work who have been more directly affected by the events. One girl, Sooyoung, who lives in the neighborhood near the crash site claims the officials are thinking about having that entire area evacuate, though you don’t know why they’re beating around the bush about it if it’s true. Whatever radiation or chemicals they’re worried about has probably already leached into all the surrounding homes, and now you’re just waiting for someone to walk into your workplace with antlers or purple skin.

Admittedly, you’re morbidly curious about the case and what all of this could mean for Earth’s future, but you keep your fascination lowkey. You don’t need any of your coworkers thinking you’re the next alien-obsessed Mulder from X-Files. But then again, you’re not curious enough to visit the actual scene, so maybe you’re not the crazy one here.

You feel fine when you get home from work that day, but as you get washed up and settle into your usual evening routine, you can’t shake the eeriness gripping your subconscious. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, either, just...foreign. Like an emotion you’ve never felt before, though you didn’t know there were even still new emotions to discover. Shaking your head, you figure maybe you should lay off the alien stuff for the rest of the week.

Before you head to bed that night, you go around the house making sure all the doors and windows are locked as you normally do. You pause at the backdoor for a reason you can’t explain, and the strange feeling grows stronger. At this point, you’re a bit frightened about what this is all about, but you can’t go to sleep without knowing. Curiosity takes over as you open the blinds and stare into the darkness of your backyard.

You don’t see anything right away. There are trees, bushes, your potted plants, and lawn chairs...everything looks normal. It’s only when you lean closer to the glass to squint that you see a figure lying in the grass. You jump once you catch sight of it, terrified that some monster or murderer has found their way onto your property. There was nothing there earlier when you closed the blinds, so whoever or whatever it is must’ve recently showed up.

You’re about ready to dial 911 when you realize the figure is curled in the fetal position and unmoving...almost like they’re unconscious. Or dead.

This is ridiculous. You feel like one of those people who always dies first in the horror movies because they went into the room the killer was obviously hiding in, but you’re overcome with the strong impulse to step outside. You grip the doorknob tightly, debating whether you should unlock it or not.

“...Fuck. Don’t let me regret this.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, the device serving as your flashlight. There’s still the screen door to get through, which you pause at for a moment. The figure remains unmoving even with the sound of the door opening.

“Hello?!” You call out to the individual, but there’s no response. Your phone’s light can’t reach them from there, which forces you to open the screen door and step out onto the porch. They’re still feet away, but from this closer distance, it seems like they’re wearing a sort of armor or full-body suit...maybe like a cosplay?

“Hope this isn’t some weirdo weeb passed out on my lawn…” you mutter, cautiously stepping onto the grass. As you approach, you can see now that the figure is likely male, though their back is to you so you can’t be totally sure. “Um, hello there? Can you hear me?” No response.

By now, you are only a few feet away from them. The person looks to be an Asian guy, with long blonde hair haloing his face. His features are angular and smooth, and he is indeed wearing some kind of body armor, its color unlike anything you’ve seen. Instead of being all one hue or even a few, it reflects the light from your phone and glows with a rainbow-like phosphorescence. The material itself looks translucent, but you can’t see through it; it creates a mind-bending optical illusion.

Your stomach suddenly drops to your feet. Is this who was in that UFO in the city center? It seems too out-there to be true, but your intuition is telling you otherwise. This can’t be fucking real.

You kneel on the wet grass next to the man and try to look for signs of life. You can hear his breathing, so he’s thankfully not dead. But he doesn’t look to be in good shape, either. He definitely won’t be able to get up on his own; he probably used the last of his energy to drag himself into your yard.

“Damn.” You turn the flashlight off and slip your phone into your sweatpants pocket. It seems like there’s no other options right now. You could call the police, but they’d probably accuse you of being in cahoots with this weird dude and drag you off to jail. Or they could cart him off for government experimentation, which sounds equally terrible. So with those things in mind, you gently maneuver his upper body until you’re able to hook your arms under his armpits and drag him towards your house.

You just really hope none of your nosy neighbors are seeing this right now.

He’s surprisingly light, and you get him inside the house fairly quickly. Once you’ve locked the door again, you pull him over to the living room so he’s propped against your couch. He still isn’t fully conscious, but his head and lips move as if he’s dreaming about something.

“What was that…?” You lean closer, trying to read his lips for some sort of clue. Surprisingly, you can make out the word water, which he mouths over and over again. “Water…” You run into the kitchen to pour a glass and bring it back to him, making sure not to spill any on the way over.

You press it to his lips, unsure if he’ll be able to drink, but to your amazement his muscles respond and he drinks quickly as you tip the glass. Soon, the water is all gone. You set the glass to the side with your palms sweating and watch as his face flutters even more.

“Can you...hear me?”

His eyes open only slightly. This movement seems to cause him some pain, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe he has a headache since he was dehydrated? You scramble to turn the overhead light off, not wanting to make matters worse. He still doesn’t try to open his eyes any wider, though.

“Who are you? Were you...did you crash here?” You feel a little bad about asking so many questions, but you’re dying for answers as to what the hell is going on.

The man licks his lips, and his mouth parts like he’s going to answer. But his throat is still dry, and it hurts to talk.

“...Shit.” You get him another glass of water and let him drink until it’s gone again. He seems a little better after that.

“Th-this...” He clears his throat a couple times and tries again. “This is E-Earth, right?”

Now you’re the one lost for words. Although you already figured he couldn’t be from here, hearing it out loud makes your blood rush and your heart race. “Um, yes...this is Earth. Was...the UFO yours?”

He sighs, and his head falls back against the couch arm. “Yes.”

“It’s destroyed,” you say, and then feel silly about it. “But you already know that.”

He doesn’t answer that. He just slowly glances around your living room instead, looking as if he’s never seen a stranger setup. The quietness is awkward, and you almost feel like he must be judging your taste for interior design. “Do you have a name?”

More silence. You decide he probably won’t answer until he finally says, “You can call me Yuta.”

“Yuta.” You tell him your name too, and he just nods, almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t say much without prompting, which makes it hard for you to know how to approach the situation. You don’t want to overwhelm him with questions, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to speak unless you do. “How did you end up here? I mean, in my—uh, my yard?”

Yuta shakes his head and then winces. “I crashed, and then...I just ran. The ship was melting. I just ran. I hid...I went from place to place, hiding. Don’t know how I got here.”

You wonder how he made it all the way from the city center to your home without being spotted, especially with that armor. You can only conclude that he must be stealth at hiding. Or maybe someone did spot him and the feds are about to bust down your door any minute. You take a shaky breath and try to push that anxious thought to the back of your mind.

Suddenly Yuta fixes you with a suspicious glare. “Will you reveal that I’m here?”

You try not to get offended, because you’d honestly be thinking the same if you were a newly-landed alien in a foreign land. “No. I don’t have any reason to do that. I just want to help. I’m not looking to be on anyone’s 6 o’clock news or cheap tabloid. You probably don’t believe me, but you can have my word for it...if that means anything to you.”

He’s quiet again, though you can tell he’s still skeptical.

“Um, do you need anything? More water?”

He sits up straighter at the mention of that. “Water.” You reach for the glass again, but he frowns. “Not that. I need…something more than that.” He looks around again, but when he doesn't see what he’s searching for, he attempts to stand only to slump down again.

“Slow down there, I don’t think you’re gonna make it like that. Can I help?”

You end up slinging his arm across your shoulder and letting him lean his body against you while you lead him to the bathroom. That’s the biggest source of water in the house, and you assume he must be wanting a bath or shower or something. Even aliens have their hygiene needs, you guess.

You turn the bathroom light on and have Yuta sit on the toilet lid as you turn the bathtub faucet. “Is...this what you meant?” He nods, and you put the plug in and let the tub fill up.

“Just water. Nothing else. I need to recharge,” he says, and before you can ask what he means by that, he starts undressing in front of you.

At first, your reaction is delayed; you’re struck with surprise when you realize the armor isn’t actually a whole bodysuit, but more like...connected panels of material that can be taken off. You don’t understand the material at all, it doesn’t resemble anything on Earth you can think of—but of course, it’s alien tech. It conforms to his body as he’s wearing it but takes on a more rigid form once it’s peeled off, like actual armor.

Then, he gets ready to take the bottoms off and something finally clicks in your brain that oh my God he’s about to get naked in front of me.

“Whoa!” You spin around and cover your eyes for good measure, glad that your brown skin hides the way your face is burning right now. You step towards the open door. “Uh, I’ll just leave, sorry—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, what?”

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” Yuta says, pulling the last of his suit off. He steps into the tub and sits down in it, putting his hands underneath the stream of water rushing out of the faucet. The skin on his hands seems to ripple, like it’s readjusting itself, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck at that. You forget to be embarrassed at his unclothed state as you watch it happen.

“What’s going on with that? And why did you need the water?”

Yuta splashes his face before answering, and he turns to look at you, the droplets of water sliding off the ends of his hair. “I’m part of a Water Race. Water is my home. Our bodies have adapted to be built for living in water, and it’s dangerous to be without it for too long.”

“Adaptation? But you look like a regular human.”

“It’s just a skin.”

“A skin?” You echo in horror, a sudden flashback to Silence of the Lambs popping into your mind. “Someone else’s skin?”

Yuta gives you a look that seems to say he can’t believe you’re asking such a stupid question. “No, it’s my skin. It’s just not my natural form.” To prove his point, he holds his hand out, and right before your eyes his human skin pulls back and morphs into something much more scaly and green. His fingers are actually more like talons, with long black nails on the ends, and there’s translucent webbing between each one.

You gasp and step back, trying to catch your breath at the sight of something so very not human. The skin reforms around his hand—you assume he has to be willing it with his mind somehow, because he doesn’t even move—and his digits look just as human as ever.

“How the hell do you hide your nails under there? Isn’t it just like...wearing a bodysuit?”

Yuta shakes his head. “No. Once the skin is on, it becomes...part of me. My hand becomes a human hand. I’m not hiding anything, it just is. It’s hard to explain.”

“Have you been to Earth before? Is that why you have a human skin, because...adaptation or some shit? This is all so wild.”

“I can shift into different skins if I want, if I gather enough genetic information on certain species’ inhabitants...but there are limitations.” That doesn’t exactly answer your question, but you figure maybe it’s best if you didn’t know. You can at least assume he’s been in contact with humans before.

“I see…” You fidget for a few seconds before speaking what’s on your mind. “Okay, one last thing...you said there are limitations. Does that mean you can’t transform into, like...a dung beetle or something?”

Yuta gives you another are you serious look and you put your hands up. “Just wondering. It was worth a try.”

You feel awkward just standing there, and you feel like maybe you should give him some privacy even if he doesn’t care much, so you leave the bathroom to find something for him to wear.

You’re not sure if you’ll find anything that fits him, so you end up settling on a light pink bathrobe and decide he’ll have to work with that for now. You slip back into the bathroom to leave it on the sink, averting your eyes from his nude form in your bathtub. “Um, here’s something to wear...not sure if anything else will fit, this is all I have for now. Sorry.” You don’t wait for him to respond— he probably won’t anyway—before slipping back out.

It’s nearing 1 A.M. at this point, which is late considering you still have work tomorrow. You sigh and curl yourself up on the couch, hoping you won’t have to stay up for very much longer.

You’re not sure when you drifted off or how long you were out, but you wake up to the sound of footsteps and see Yuta coming out of the bathroom wearing the robe you’ve given him. You have to laugh a little at the sight of him in the light pink material, though you think it suits him in a way.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need some clothes.”

Yuta raises his eyebrow. “I still have my suit.”

“Yeah, but...don’t you want something else to wear? Your ship is pretty much gone, so you’ll probably be on Earth for a while...and if you don’t want anyone realizing you’re not from here, you’ll have to wear regular clothes.”

Yuta visibly upsets at the idea of his ship’s destroyed state, even though he knows there’s not much he can do about it. “I guess. I shared which planet I was heading to before I left, but...Earth is a very big place. And my trackers were destroyed with my ship, so…”

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know how much comfort that can be. “We can look for some clothes tomorrow. It’s probably better for you not to leave the house right now, but...that’s what online shopping is for.”

“Online shopping…?” Yuta seems puzzled by the concept, but he doesn’t ask any further. Then he looks around the room again. “Is there somewhere I can rest?”

“Oh, yeah, follow me.” You get up from the couch to head upstairs where the guest bedroom is. The house isn’t huge—it was your grandmother’s before she passed it on to you—but it’s more than enough for you alone, and it should fit one more just fine. You open the door and turn on the light, illuminating the small room. “It hasn’t been used in a while, so excuse any dust. I can fix that tomorrow, but it’s getting late...” you stifle a yawn, “...so we should probably go to sleep now.”

Yuta looks at you and nods.

“Um, well...goodnight.” You wave at him from the doorway before closing it.

As you make your way down the stairs, a sudden weariness and apprehension comes over you. An alien in your home? Escaped from a recently crashed UFO? Wearing one of your bathrobes? You’re almost positive you haven’t thought this through deeply enough, but you’re in it now. Might as well see where the rabbit hole leads to.

The next morning, you prepare yourself to go to work like you usually do. For a while, the house is so quiet that you almost forget Yuta is there until you see him standing in the kitchen entryway, still wearing his pink robe, and you almost jump through the ceiling.

“Jesus, you came out of nowhere,” you gasp, holding your heart.

“Where are you going?” Yuta asks. He steps into the kitchen and tentatively sits down in one of the dining table chairs.

“To work,” you say, and then pause. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to leave a freshly-landed alien at home alone. “Will you be okay here by yourself? I could come over on my lunch break…”

“What am I supposed to do here the whole time?” Yuta asks, sounding displeased at the thought of being abandoned for hours.

“Well...you could watch TV? There’s the on-demand channel...the fridge is available for you too, just try not to clean out my—wait, do you even eat human food?”

Yuta shrugs, crossing his arms. “Not really. It’s not a big source of nutrients for us.”

You nod awkwardly. “Huh. Well, that’s...interesting.” The stress of the situation is already making your head pound and you haven’t even left for work yet. “Uh, yeah—I think I’ll just come over later and check in...come on, I’ll at least show you how to work the remote before I leave.”

You bid Yuta goodbye once you’re about to go, though you feel more than a little hesitant about leaving him there. There isn’t much other choice, though; you can’t afford to take a day off on such short notice.

The extraterrestrial sighs, sprawling across the couch and looking at the ceiling. The TV is already playing the channel you left it on, and Yuta turns to the screen and watches as a group of humans make weird food dishes he’s never seen before.

“This is stupid.”

The rest of the week with Yuta manages to be an adventure even though he never steps foot outside the house.

Yuta doesn’t take a liking to human food, which means he opts for spending most of his time in the guest bathtub instead, claiming that the water gives him more nourishment than meals can. You don’t know how true that is, but you’re not going to fight him on it. Less food you have to prepare, you reason...although you often end up making extra anyway and getting him to try a few bites. It feels odd to not see him eat.

Living with someone from outer space is not really as weird as you expected it might be, which surprises you. Yuta stays in his human skin whenever he’s around you, and you steer clear of the guest bathroom when it’s occupied lest you walk in on something crazy.

You’ve taught Yuta about new concepts he didn’t know before or wasn’t overly familiar with. He’s particularly intrigued with online shopping, and you ended up buying him a bunch of outfits that you both thought he’d look nice in. He doesn’t seem to be big on technology, which surprises you considering how advanced his UFO looked even its ruined state, but maybe human tech is more primitive than what he’s used to. He’s quite fascinated with the microwave, though, and how it can heat anything up in minutes.

With you uncovering new bits of information each day, you continually wonder how different his homeworld must be from the Earth. You can’t pull much out of him about it, for whatever reasons he has for keeping the information close, but you try to let him talk about it at his pace without pressuring him.

You could probably get used to living like this.

Maybe not your wallet, though. You’re definitely not loving how your water bill is going to look once it comes in the mail.

None of your coworkers or neighbors know—not that it’s any of their business anyway. You don’t know how long Yuta is going to stay, or what the hell you’re going to do when his people finally catch wind of his whereabouts and land a UFO in your backyard, but you figure you’ll get to that part when it comes.

On one Saturday morning, you wake up to the sound of tapping on your door. You try to ignore it, thinking it’s just some woodpecker setting up shop outside your window, but you’re proven wrong when the door swings open.

You pull the covers away from your face for a moment to see Yuta standing there looking at you. You stare at him for a few seconds before sighing.

“Why are you up so early? It’s the weekend,” you groan, pulling the covers back over your head.

“Why do you sleep so late?” Yuta retorts, still standing in your doorway. You don’t know whether he expects you to get up and do a trick, but it’s not happening. You peel the blanket away so it’s just below your eyes and look at him.

“What?”

“It’s not fun being here alone all day, you know,” he says, crossing his arms.

“So...what? Do you want me to play with you or something?” You can’t stop your sudden laugh, but you feel bad about once it’s out. He has just lost his ride home and has no foreseeable way back until someone notices his absence. Plus, needing to stay hidden and cooped up like a criminal can’t be enjoyable.

Yuta rolls his eyes at your response and starts down the hallway again, but you jump out of the bed and follow him. “Wait, Yuta, I’m sorry. That was stupid. I know it can’t be easy living like this. I’m not sure if I can make it better, but I’m willing to try.”

Yuta pauses in the hall and turns back to look at you. “I’m tired of being in here all the time....no offense. But there’s only so much I can take. I know I’m supposed to be in hiding, but it’s not like anyone can tell the difference. Even you couldn’t. Can’t we go out for one day?”

You think about it for a moment and figure he’s right. You both were trying to be overly cautious at first, but there’s no real way anyone would notice anything unless he shifted. “I guess we could...as long as we don’t go anywhere with a lot of water.”

“I have more self-control than that,” Yuta scoffs, though his words trail off as he’s already heading back to his room to get dressed.

You and Yuta walk around downtown for a little while, although you can’t shake the lingering nervousness you feel. You both decided not to head back to the city center any time soon; there’s not much left of the broken ship anyway, with scientists carting off pieces of it for research. Just as you thought. It’s too big to transport all at once, but you’re sure the remaining parts will be gone within the next couple weeks.

Yuta is continually surprised by how many new and unfamiliar things he spots along the way—things he actually gets to see up close and in detail. Kinda hard to focus when you’re running and hiding for your life.

Eventually, Yuta slows down as you walk past a small and colorful restaurant. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing up at the sign. You stop to turn around and see what he’s gesturing to.

“That’s just a hamburger joint...you won’t wanna go in there,” you say, raising your eyebrows. Because you don’t eat food. Despite that, Yuta still seems curious about the restaurant and he hesitates to walk away. Realizing that you aren’t going to get anywhere, you go to stand next to him and peer inside. There are a few people already inside, sitting at scattered tables and eating their food. “Do you want to go in, or…? ‘Cause you have to eat something if we do. This is your idea.”

“I’ll eat, let’s just go,” Yuta says, grasping your hand and pulling you into the restaurant.

You wave at the person behind the counter who greets you as you walk in, while Yuta is busy scanning every inch of the place. You let him look over the menu for a little while, but with so many options available he isn’t sure what to get—especially when he’s not sure if he’ll like any of them—so you end up picking for the both of you.

When you finally get your food, you take it to one of the tables. You watch attentively as Yuta takes the first bite of his hamburger, and you try to stifle your giggles as you watch his face go from nonchalance to bewilderment to shock.

“This is actually...good.”

“Wait, this is really the first meal you’ve liked? Are you saying my cooking is bad? Damn.” You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I’m not answering that.” Yuta laughs along with you, which is probably the first genuinely happy expression he’s shown since he’s been here.

Yuta has a very pretty smile, you realize. You’re a little taken aback by it. You haven’t seen much of it since you met him, but it’s here now and striking in its genuine quality. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside...which you mainly attribute to the satisfaction of doing something nice for someone else. Of course. Who wouldn’t enjoy a nice meal they didn’t have to pay for?

Things go smoothly for a while as you both eat and pretend to make boring small talk since you can’t talk about him being an alien in public. However, you feel sweat on the back of your neck when you see your coworker Alex walk through the door with his boyfriend. This city is too small for its own good sometimes.

You try not to call attention to yourself and Yuta, keeping your gaze on your food, but he spots you anyway and waves enthusiastically. Alex gestures for his partner to go ahead and order while he comes over to your table.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s great to see you! Too bad we missed you at the UFO wreck today, though; we went out again one last time before they take the whole thing away,” he rushes out in one breath. Yuta’s eye twitches at the mention of his ship, and you’re suddenly on edge, hoping the situation doesn’t turn sour.

“Oh, uh, wow, that’s...cool!” you choke out, pinching your straw between your fingers. Before you can think of a way to divert the subject, Alex turns to Yuta.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex! Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” The last few words are directed at you. Alex gives you a playful grin, and you toss him an embarrassed smile back.

“Uh, no, he’s my friend! Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuta says, though you can recognize his tone is a bit dry.

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Alex’s boyfriend calls him from the other side of the restaurant, and he turns to respond before taking his leave. “Ah well, looks like we’ll have to cut it short, but it was so great to see you guys. Enjoy your lunch!”

You let out the breath you were subconsciously holding once he leaves.

“Boyfriend…” Yuta murmurs.

“What?”

“That would be really weird. Wouldn’t it? We’re not even the same species,” he says, lowering his voice. It’s not like you don’t agree, but you admittedly don’t appreciate the way Yuta screws his face up at the thought. You prickle with embarrassment.

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Well I’m not exactly eager to date an overgrown fish, so…” You almost expect Yuta to fall into another one of his moods at your words, but he actually chuckles a bit, which surprises you.

“Then it’s mutual!” Yuta sticks his tongue out and you roll your eyes.

The warm and fuzzy feeling, you soon find out, is not a one-time thing.

You don’t quite know what to make of that. You wouldn’t like for Yuta to go back to his initial broody state, of course, but you’re starting to believe this feeling can’t just be attributed to your charitable actions. You can’t stop thinking about the more playful side of Yuta you saw at the burger place that day, and the way he’s been gradually more open with you since then.

Yuta usually spends his nights splashing around in the guest bathtub, but one night he wanders into the living room and sees you putting your afro in plaits. He becomes weirdly fascinated with the process, watching you carefully and asking occasional questions. Amused by his interest, you answer all his questions and even offer to let him do one section.

“It’s probably not the same, but I used to braid my friend’s hair often…” he says wistfully as he settles in behind you. “We did a lot of things together.”

Your ears perk up. “Oh? You sound like you were very close,” you say, resting your chin on your knees.

“Really close,” he affirms. His hands are gentle in your hair, as testament to his words. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation, and before you know it, that warmth is spreading through your chest again. You even allow yourself to wonder what it’d be like for him to do this all the time, tending to your hair and telling you about his homeworld, before you open your eyes again and quickly pull yourself out of that reverie. You probably shouldn’t get too used to this, you reason with yourself. “I think she’s what you’d call a mermaid...except the look is a bit...different.”

“Different?” you echo, wondering if you’ll get an explanation.

“They don’t have human arms or anything like that...it’s more like tentacles.”

“Ah,” you try to imagine that, though it’s hard. “That’s certainly unique.”

“Maybe you’d like it...my planet, I mean.”

“You think I would? Why?”

“I dunno, just a feeling…”

“If only I could breathe underwater,” you laugh. “You’d take me back, though? Hypothetically, of course. I’m not too human for you?”

“Will you ever let that one go? It’s probably the least I could do after setting up residence here. Maybe we’ll get you an alien costume, though, so you’ll fit in.”

“How nice of you to think of me in all my humanness. God, the universe is something else…”

You start when Yuta’s hands leave your hair. “I think I’m done?” he says, sitting back on his feet. You grab the mirror from the coffee table and look at the braid you let him do.

“Oh wow, it looks good.” You purse your lips to hide the grin about to break across your face. “Do you wanna do the rest?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Go ahead then, my hands needed a break anyway.”

You sit back and let Yuta finish the rest of your hair, listening quietly as he tells you more about his friend from his homeworld. Her name is unpronounceable to you, but it sounds pretty all the same. They grew up together, he says, and have been on lots of adventures over the years, though he still keeps that same vagueness he always has when describing his life. He ends up getting you to tell him more about your life, which you do; you figure he probably doesn’t know a whole lot about you, either.

Yuta hands you the mirror when he’s done, and his head pops up next to yours in the reflection. “Good?”

“It’s great!” you say, and you really mean it.

You discover that, strangely enough, Yuta has an affinity for sci-fi movies. Go figure. He especially seems to like the campiness of alien films; then again, everything is campy to him because of how different it is from how extraterrestrials actually live.

You are in the middle of watching The Fly when it comes to one of sex scenes, and you try not to sweat. It’s always a little awkward to watch sex scenes with other people, but doing it with an alien gives the whole thing an extra layer of weirdness.

“Human sex is so funny,” Yuta says out of nowhere. You just barely avoid choking on your drink.

“Uh, o-okay. Do I want to know what that means?”

Yuta only shrugs and leans farther back onto the couch, looking completely unbothered about what he’s just said. “It just is.”

“...I’m sure your people must procreate some kinda way?”

“Yeah, but it’s not quite this. But when I’m in this form, I can do it as humans do.”

That makes you pause, and you’re not sure what to do with that information. Actually, your mind has already decided for itself and is trying to go to a place you don’t want it to, and you’re mildly horrified by that revelation. There’s no real reason why you should be curious about it. And yet...

“Hummm...have you done it before? In this form?” You keep your eyes glued to the screen, which is now showing a shirtless Jeff Goldblum doing acrobatics—but that’s still less awkward than looking over at Yuta right now.

“There was one time.”

There is a twinge of something in your chest. Fascination? Sure. Revulsion? Maybe not that. Dare you call it anything close to jealousy? You immediately throw that one out the door, sink further into your seat, and try not to think about what your life has come to.

“Okay, since you still won’t tell me directly if you’ve been here before, at least tell me this; did it happen here on Earth? With a human?”

Yuta shakes his head. “Some other aliens have weird fetishes. I only did it because she asked and was really adamant about it.”

“Ooookay, you know what…” You get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen, laughing awkwardly all the way. You don’t have any particular reason to go in there, but you have to do something with the nervous energy that’s about to make you jump out of your skin. You pretend to shuffle around in the fridge for a minute so you don’t look too silly getting up for no reason.

After taking a moment to calm down, you turn back to Yuta. “Okay. Hypothetically, if you wanted, could you actually…? With a human? In your natural form? Or would the parts be incompatible, or...”

“Maybe...I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve ever tried. Why?” Yuta gives you a look that’s partway between curiosity and incredulity, and you wave your hand in dismissal.

“It’s just a question.”

Yuta leans forward on the couch, barely concealing his own amusement at whatever he’s cooking up in his mind. “Are you saying you want to try it with me?”

“You’re not funny,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning at that suggestion. “Remind me not to ask you anything like that again.”

When you get home from work one weeknight, you roll your eyes at the mass text sitting in your inbox, forwarded to you from Alex. Another after-work party, which means another event where someone will run through the sprinklers naked and everyone will pretend like they don’t remember it the next workday.

You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, especially with Yuta, who will likely want to go if he finds out, so you decide to just come out and say it and see what happens.

“Hey Yuta…” You slide up behind him where he’s sitting on the couch. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be at home for a few hours on Saturday. I’m going to a party this weekend. It’s a friend’s party, someone from work.”

Yuta looks at you forlornly. “The same person we met at the restaurant?”

“No, but he’s gonna be there too. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t know if it’s safe for you to go…”

“That’s not fair, the last time at the restaurant went well,” Yuta argues.

“Yes, but this guy has a pool and he’s a dickhead who likes to push people in and what if you get caught off guard and change unexpectedly?”

Yuta’s response is as straightforward as you expected it to be. “Then I’ll punch him in the face.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, coming to sit beside him on the couch. “Ugh. As satisfying as that sounds, I don’t need the extra stress of dealing with the aftermath. I don’t know, Yuta...do you think you’ll be okay? God, I feel like an overprotective mom or some shit.”

“Y/N, it’ll be fine, stop worrying. I can take care of myself,” Yuta insists, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. He’s a little closer than you anticipated, which makes your heart rate increase a little. You chalk that reaction up to his invasion of your personal space and shift away, groaning.

“Fine, I’ll bring you. But if shit goes down, I can’t promise an easy way out. Let’s just keep things lowkey, alright?”

“Of course I can do that! I’ve been doing it so far haven’t I?” he says, but somehow you’re not entirely convinced.

The party is filled with people you know from work and a slew of unfamiliar faces, probably your coworkers’ friends. It’s mostly a backyard party, like you already knew, although there are some people mingling within the house.

There are already a few people lounging in the pool. In any other scenario, it might be inviting to you, but now you just look at all that water with a looming sense of anxiety. Yuta sticks close to your side, saying nothing but studying everyone around him.

“Y/N!” your coworker David shouts from the backdoor of his house. He holds up his beer in salutation and you wave back at him, mildly annoyed that he’s brought everyone’s attention to you both. He hustles over to you and claps you on the back strong enough to make your bones rattle, and you wince. “Hey dude!” He reaches across you to pull Yuta into a handshake, and Yuta also winces when he grips his hand a little too tight. “Make yourselves at home, I’ve got everything you could ever need—including the booze and babes!” You both nod awkwardly before David goes off to greet someone else who’s just pulled up. You roll your eyes once he’s gone.

Yuta’s eyebrows draw together. “That was…”

“Annoying,” you finish for him.

“You don’t seem to like him. Why did you decide to come?”

“Workplace politics, if you’re the only one who doesn’t come it’s awkward, ugh. It’s just bullshit. Let’s not get into it.” You walk towards the house and Yuta follows, and you nod at a few people you know along the way.

You find Alex in the kitchen, where he offers to make drinks for you and Yuta. You cast a glance at Yuta, wondering if he’ll take up the offer; you have no idea how he’ll react to alcohol, or if they drink any equivalent of it on his homeworld.

“Um, I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh okay, straight-edge guy! That’s cool too,” Alex grins, making just the one drink for you. As you and Alex talk, the girl from your department whose neighborhood was about to be evacuated sidles up to your little group.

“I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”

“Oh...it’s Yuta.”

“Yuta? How cool, I’m Sooyoung.”

Little did you know that that one introduction would expand into them having a half-hour long conversation right there in the kitchen. You really don’t know how Yuta is pulling this off without spilling the beans, but then again, you do; he’s good enough at manipulating the conversation to make it seem like he’s sharing personal info when he’s really not. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he throws in things you taught him every so often.

Alex notices your changing demeanor and follows you as you walk into the living room, finally exhausted with playing third wheel. “Hm, someone seems a little spicy.”

You cough. “I’m fine, it’s just cramped in there, David should really invest in a bigger house..this place could use a remodel.” You throw a glance around the living room, not wanting to see the mischievous look in Alex’s eyes.

“Well, remodel aside, it’s not really my business, but you certainly seem to have a little green monster brewing here.”

You give Alex a long look. “Don’t. He’s my friend. He’s not even—” You have to stop yourself before you expose anything, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Not even what? Your type? I don’t know, he’s handsome enough to me. You can’t go wrong with a pretty boy. Don’t tell Xavier I said that, though.”

“Lord, let me get the hell out of here…” You leave Alex to cackle to himself while you go out into the backyard again, holding your drink and mulling around the edges of the activity. Too busy wrestling with your own emotions, you don’t realize how close you’ve drifted towards the pool.

“Hey, Y/N?” David says from behind you.

“Yeah?” You go to turn towards him, but before you can, you feel a huge shove from behind and the next thing you know your feet are off the ground and you’re in the pool. It all happens so fast that you can barely catch your bearings, and for a terrifying moment you’re convinced you’re about to drown.

The seconds feel like minutes, and you can’t even open your eyes to tell up from down. The next thing you register is an arm around your waist, and somehow you’re being pulled up even though you’re too panicked to even control your limbs. Your head pops above the water and you cough and sputter loudly, trying to take in air. You try to blink the water out of your eyes, though it drips off your hair and makes it even harder to see.

You’re still not sure what the hell is going on until you’re hauled out of the water and sitting on the ground. Someone hands you a towel, and you hear a female voice saying you’re such an asshole, David.

You wipe the water off of your face and then you’re finally able to see; Yuta is crouching in front of you, just as soaked as you are and staring at you with a worried expression. You look back at him, disoriented and a little dumbfounded at his still-human state.

“You didn’t…”

Even though you’re still trembling with the fear of almost drowning, you’re unable to look anywhere but at Yuta for that moment—at the pure concern on his face.

“Nice going, David,” someone else says sarcastically.

“It was just a bit of a prank! No hard feelings guys, come on. Y/N?” You realize David is standing on your left, and he tries to come closer, his hands open in an apologetic gesture. You jerk away from him, holding the towel to your shaking form.

“Get the fuck away from me. You’re a fucking idiot!” you shout. “All you do is ‘play pranks’ and then you wonder why no one likes you!” That draws a few barely concealed laughs out of the people standing nearby, though you don’t think any of it is funny. David steps back, unsure how to respond and looking truly embarrassed for once in his life.

Filled with anger, you try to get to your feet but you’re still unsteady. Yuta puts his arm around you again, lifting you up and encouraging you to lean your weight on him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You don’t have much to say on the way back home. You insist on leaving right away even though Yuta suggests you sit and wait until the tremors subside. He obviously can’t drive you back home, so it’s all he can offer, though it doesn’t make you feel much better.

The silence itself isn’t particularly awkward to Yuta, but he is uncomfortable anyway because he knows it stems from your own discomfort. At a red light, he turns to you.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he speaks again. “I know you’re mad about the pool, but...it seems like there’s more than that. Did...you not like me spending so much time with Sooyoung?”

You scoff. “You can’t be serious. I don’t care what you and that girl do.”

“You’re not a very good liar.” You’re too worn out to argue, so you merely give him a sidelong glance. Yuta sits back in his seat and watches a few cars zip past, their tail lights looking like clashing stars against the night. He’s not used to so much...manmade stuff. There was his ship and his trackers, of course, but he still has a hard time adjusting to be surrounded by so much iron and steel. His own planet is ruled by nature, by the vast oceans in all their unpolluted original essence, but Earth—or at least this portion of it—is much, much different.

He means to glance back at you, but his eyes linger for a while longer than intended. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because your outfit is a pretty color, or because the coils of your hair look shiny reflecting the light. He’s never put much thought into human beings before, and his limited experiences with them were mostly better left unremembered. Taking a human form was no huge deal for him; just a move that was necessary at the time.

But now, he’s seeing humanity—and most specifically, you—in a different light, and he’s uncertain what to do with this realization. People have feelings, thoughts, and dreams, like his own species, or like any other. He’s beginning to care what you think of him, how you react to him, even though he doesn’t know why this matters.

“You look pretty,” Yuta says. The compliment is the last thing you expected from him. It seems especially random after what happened at the party; here you are, soaking wet and incredibly uncomfortable. You’re a little late to put your foot on the gas pedal once the light turns green, and someone behind you honks.

“Pretty? I thought humans were weird to you.” Your mind goes back to The Fly and the subsequent conversation you had, and your hands tighten minutely around the steering wheel.

“You are. That hasn’t changed.”

“Good to know.” You don’t want to laugh, but this does make you crack a smile. “But...thanks. And...thanks for that, at the pool, you know. I should...probably trust you more.”

The rest of the ride is a little more talkative after that, and Yuta is happy that he could lighten your mood if even a little bit. Although he wouldn’t tell you, he’s becoming accustomed to your smile, and he’s more displeased than he thought he could be when it’s absent.

The thunder booms so loudly that it makes your window frames shake. It almost reminds you of the day Yuta’s ship fell out of the sky. You pull the covers tighter around yourself as if they alone could protect you from the storm’s fierceness. Storm clouds have been brewing all day, but the skies didn’t open until you and Yuta went to bed. Now, the rain and lightning is in full force. The rain pounds against your window, sounding more like hail or even bullets.

You’re startled for a second time when there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in?”

The door opens slightly and Yuta appears in the small sliver of space. “Sorry, but...can I sleep here? The storm...” He gestures to the window, where a crack of lightning strikes right after. He’s wearing a sleep shirt and loose pants, and his blonde hair is disheveled.

“Uh, sure.” You shuffle over to make room for him. “I guess this isn’t your type of water, is it?” He huddles underneath the covers with you, facing you with his arm tucked under the unoccupied pillow.

“Not when it’s so intense like this.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “It’s scary. Does rainy weather make you think of your homeworld often?”

“Often,” he repeats. “But...I think I’d be worse off if I weren’t here.”

“Here...on Earth?”

“I mean, here with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. It’s a surprisingly personal confession, though you are grateful you’ve become someone so important in his life already, even if it’s only because you’ve given him shelter. That familiar warmth spreads through you again.

Warm and fuzzies = gratefulness to a friend, the feeling you get when you pet a cute puppy. Right. It’s not the sensation you get when you think you might have feelings for your extraterrestrial friend, you try to convince yourself. “I’m...glad you’re here. Maybe not under these circumstances, but still.”

Yuta nods without speaking, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from you. You think he must be waiting on you to say something else.

“What?” you ask quietly when he keeps staring at you. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” Your joke does little to clear the air, and the tension keeps rising. You should probably be the first one to look away, to end whatever weird game this is and go to sleep, but you can’t. It’s unexplainable.

Yuta props himself up on his elbow, and you’re about to ask him where he’s going when he slips his hand onto your bare shoulder. You’re already covered by the blankets, but you suddenly feel even hotter with his hand on you, sliding up from your shoulder to the side of your face. “Y-Yuta…?”

You don’t know what to say or do, but you don’t object when he leans closer. Your faces are only inches apart now, like he’s hesitating and wondering if he should cross the line. The thunderstorm is intense, but this moment feels much more suspenseful than that could ever be. And then, it’s suddenly satisfying when his lips are on yours.

The kiss starts gentle. He’s careful as if he’s afraid to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s soft and sweet. Things get more heated when his tongue prods against your lower lip and enters your mouth. You don’t know when his hand made it from your face to your side, but he pulls you close with his fingers pressing into the flesh just below your breasts, and you tremble at the proximity.

When you pull away, both of you are breathing harder and unable to look each other in the eye.

“Should we be doing this?” you whisper.

Yuta shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it feels good.”

At those words, you pause for a moment before moving to kiss him again. His lips respond deftly to yours, his body crowding you in and making you feel hot and enraptured with desire from where you still lie under the covers.

His hair is very soft when you slide your hands through it, though you can’t push away the thought that suddenly manifests in the back of your mind. This isn’t really his hair, or his lips, is it? It’s all a mask to cover whatever is underneath, which is something you still don’t entirely know, yet are increasingly curious about.

Yuta’s hand drifts up just high enough to caress the underside of your breast—all still over the cover of your clothes. Abruptly, that thought forces its way to the front of your mind, making itself unavoidable, and you have no idea how to reconcile it. This is all so...very unfamiliar. And undeniably scary.

You pull away from him, your face creased with conflict, and his hand stills on your body. “S-sorry, I…um...this is...”

Subsequently, he pulls his hand away from you, though some part of you doesn’t really want that to happen. “I-it’s fine.”

You both settle back into the sheets, the tense aura from before replaced with one that’s thick with unease. The storm continues on outside, unknowing and uncaring of anything else but its own nature.

Though you would like to pretend it isn’t so, things become strained after the night of the storm.

You and Yuta don’t talk about the kiss. You expected him to say something about it that morning after, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and so you figured you just forget about it, too. What are you thinking, anyway? You’re literally from two different worlds. You don’t have the first clue about what a connection would look like between you, whether it be just sex or a relationship.

Why couldn’t you just fall for a coworker and have a bit of office drama like everyone else? Even that would be simpler.

Why did you have to let your thoughts get the best of you? You don’t have any answer for that, except for maybe your own need to come to terms with your attraction. People have never been very skilled at accepting others different from themselves, you know that much. But that usually counts for people of different ethnicities or cultural backgrounds, not two entirely different species.

You spend the whole week afterwards tearing your mind up with this monologue and trying to figure out what you should do next, because you’re quickly growing weary of coming home to a tense atmosphere. Alex can only give so much advice—not that you’d really tell him the entire situation—without knowing just how complicated everything is.

Where he used to hang out with you and help you with your hair, Yuta spends more time up in the guest bathroom again. You wonder if he thinks you’re disgusted by him. You’d probably think the same if he reacted the way you did.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta is facing the situation with a similar amount of inner turmoil as you, wondering if he’s gone too far. He’s done many silly things in his life, but he doesn’t know how to undo this mistake. The mistake of kissing you? The mistake of seeing you as more than just another human? The mistake of knowingly flying in a faulty ship? Maybe all of it.

He feels guilty about freezing you out and pretending as if nothing happened, especially with all you’ve done to make him safe and comfortable in your home. But, at the same time, he is equally frightened to face you and discover the real reasoning for why you pulled away that night. Because you’ll never see him as someone you could like? Or maybe even love?

If that’s your truth, he’d rather leave it unsaid.

There aren’t many choices left but to face it. Whether this idea is smart or not is yet to be seen, but you suppose you don’t have many solutions left. And you are sick of being cooped up in the house.

“You sure this is safe?” Yuta asks as he stares at the scenery whizzing past. “You were all freaked out about me being near water before...now you want to go to a lake?”

You glance over at him. “Yes, it’s my parents’ lake property. It’s private, Yuta. No one will be there but us. I think we could both use a mini vacation this weekend, yeah?”

“I guess, sure.” Yuta shrugs. His demeanor is more closed off than it was before that dreaded kiss, but you can still tell that he’s interested in the idea of getting access to a bigger body of water, even if he doesn’t outwardly express it.

The lake house is two hours out of your city. It hasn’t been used much in the past few years with both you and your parents being busy with work and life, but if there was ever a good time to use it, it’s probably now. You just hope there aren’t any squatters of the furry variety; the last thing you need is to be fighting raccoons or squirrels after stepping through the door.

Luckily, there’s really no one but you two once you reach your destination. The lake is big and pretty like you last remembered it, sparkling under the sun and throwing the rays back in your eyes. Yuta is automatically captivated by it.

“Here it is!” you say, walking along the sand and spreading your arms out towards the body of water. “It might not be much compared to your homeworld, but I hope it’s enough.” You carry your bag up the stairs to the house and turn back to Yuta, who’s still standing by the shore gazing across the water. “You can go in, you know? Get comfortable!”

That seems to snap him out of his trance, and he turns back to you, following you up the steps. “Not right now...I’ll go later.” You’re a little disappointed at that, but you simply nod and open the door to go in.

You spend the day getting increasingly more restless as you and Yuta hang out together. You go on the pier, walk around the entirety of the lake, and even take your dad’s boat out on the water, but he still doesn’t get in.

You eat dinner together later that night, although you’re the one doing most of the eating, and there isn’t much conversation to be had. You’ve both run out of things to say that don’t center around the kiss or why he refuses to get in the water.

Yuta spends a few more moments watching you push your food around your plate before leaning forward. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks.

You sigh heavily. “Do you not like it?”

“No, I do, but…” he hesitates. “Can you answer my question first?

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, well. I brought you here because...I don’t know. I figure you deserve to have somewhere bigger to swim around in than my guest bathtub.” You laugh nervously.

He seems unconvinced. “Is that it?”

“I’d say so! Why won’t you even take one swim, is the better question? I want you to relax and be yourself.”

He furrows his eyebrows as if he doesn’t know how to reply. “You...aren’t you...repulsed by it? I just figured you wouldn’t want to see me in my natural form. Especially since…” He trails off at the end, and your palms sweat a little.

“No! I know I was weirded out at first, but...I-I guess that was the point of this whole trip, to show you that…” You grapple with your words for a moment, unsure if now is the time to fully confess what you’re feeling. “Look, I want to try, alright? I want to see it at least once. I want to accept you as a whole being, and that means, you know...all of you.”

Yuta smiles gradually at that, and you feel swept up with a sudden wave of affection you weren’t expecting. You are still a bit scared, but you don’t want to turn back now. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, clasping your shaking hands together.

Yuta nods and stands up from the dining table, gesturing for you to follow him. It’s late now, with the moon shining brightly and the last vestiges of dark blue sky giving way to black. The air outside is cool, but not uncomfortably so. You follow Yuta to the pier and watch timidly, your stomach flip-flopping, as he sheds his clothes, leaving them on the wooden deck. Then he slips into the water, disappearing underneath its still surface.

You crouch down, looking intently at the rippling water and anticipating whoever is going to resurface. The sounds of croaking frogs and crickets press in from every side, ringing in your ears so loudly that it’s hard to think straight.

You gasp when Yuta lifts from the water, his human skin gone and completely transformed into something that’s more...amphibian, if that’s any accurate way to describe his appearance. His skin is still scaly and green like you saw that first day, but in the moonlight it seems to glitter and reflect a spectrum of colors like his armor did. There are two fins on the either side of his face, translucent and shining a pale green. They slowly move back and forth as he treads on the water, as if they’re conveying an emotion to match whatever he’s thinking, and you watch them in fascination.

Yuta floats on his back in the water, the long gills on either of his sides catching the moonlight. You watch in fascination as they move with his breaths. Using the pier post to keep yourself stable, you reach out to touch them. They’re slick under your fingers, but not in a slimy or gross way. Your hand drifts to the rest of his skin, across his torso and along his sides, and every portion has a strikingly smooth texture. His alien eyes stare at you silently as you do, glittering big in the moonlight.

“What do you think?” his voice is quieter than you expected, as if he’s afraid of your reaction. He doesn’t break his gaze, though, studying your face carefully.

“You’re...amazing,” you say breathlessly. “Incredible.”

His lips, which are green like the rest of him, form a small smile, and then he dives underneath the water. He does a few laps as if he means to impress you, his lithe marine form sparkling just below the surface of the water. You keep your hand suspended over the pier as you watch him, your fingers sliding against his body every time he passes by. You smile at his display, a laugh coming out of you at his impromptu performance.

When he’s finished, Yuta climbs up onto the pier with you and kneels in front of you, much like he did that day he saved you from David’s swimming pool. His feet are webbed like his hands. Droplets of water slide off of them onto the wooden boardwalk while others linger on the clear webbing like tiny jewels. Your hand is magnetized to his face, drawing across the scaly skin and tracing over his lips, which are just as smooth as the rest of him.

Before you can think twice about it, you lean forward and capture his lips with yours. Did you expect it to be fishy? Maybe. But it’s not that at all. He still manages to taste distinctly like Yuta, even though you’re not sure what that taste is. It’s a flavor that makes you feel...held. Yuta is surprised for a moment, but he responds to your kiss, one of his webbed hands inching close to your face. He doesn’t touch you at first, a little reluctant and yet wanting to let you lead the pace so he doesn’t scare you off.

You welcome his touch, carefully brushing your fingertips across his hand and bringing it to make contact with your skin. His own skin is still a bit cold from the water’s temperature, but it doesn’t bother you much.

The kiss soon grows more intense, and a mounting desire makes itself known in you. You won’t pretend like you’re 100% confident about all of this, but you don’t want to shun it anymore, either.

Yuta’s hand drifts to your neck, his long nails pressing into your skin ever so slightly. You dare to explore his body more, sliding your hands across his chest and over his side gills, feeling the way they contract under your hands, and farther down still. You haven’t looked down there yet, and you’re nervous over what you’ll find. But you keep going until your fingers meet something slick and hot and throbbing, seeming vaguely like a regular penis, though you quickly realize it’s more of a tentacle.

Yuta shudders and draws away from the kiss, and you feel alarmed, wondering if you’ve gone too far without thinking.

“If we’re going to do this, I should...probably shift back—”

“Don’t,” you blurt out. Yuta looks at you questioningly. “I...you should if it makes you comfortable. But...I don’t mind.” He’s quiet for a few seconds—seconds that feel much longer than they really are. You’re apprehensive of what he’ll say, but you keep your eyes on his face.

“Okay,” he agrees. “If you’ll accept me like this...okay.”

Neither of you bother with moving to somewhere more comfortable like the lake house or even the sandy shore. Instead, Yuta peels your clothes away right there on the pier, covering every new bit of flesh with his strange and lovely mouth, his head fins ghosting across your collarbones and breasts like moths’ wings.

You tremble and grow wetter under his soft caresses, which are much gentler than you’d initially expect with his sharp black nails. His hands leave streaks of water across your body, which cools your burning hot skin.

Yuta carefully maneuvers your lower body at the same time as he bends his graceful head, bringing your sex close to his mouth and licking deeply into you. Your back presses hard against the pier, the wood scratching your skin as you cry out into the night air.

“Oh God, Yuta!” You soon realize that his tongue is much longer than any human one, and it reaches to a spot deep inside of you that makes you twist around in his grasp, your fingernails scrambling for purchase on the surface below you. He uses his tongue to pleasure that spot continuously, drawing moans and ever more wetness out of you as if he were controlling the waves in the ocean.

You find yourself coming apart on his extraordinarily long tongue, your legs shaking and then going limp with the pleasure flooding through your body. Your breaths come fast and hard. Yuta lifts his head from between your legs and pulls you carefully into his lap so his slick tentacle is pressing against you. It’s not hard like a dick would be, though it is clearly responsive to your body, and you momentarily wonder if it can even go inside you.

“Is this gonna work?” you ask, a tremor in your voice.

“It will work,” Yuta replies, and you’re not sure how, but you decide to trust him on it.

It does, to your surprise. With your legs crossed tightly over his lower back, Yuta presses into you, wet and warm and very unexpectedly soft. It doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s not a bad sensation, though—far from it. His tentacle is similar to his tongue in how it flexes and throbs inside you, pressing tight against that spot again and making you shiver in his arms.

You both quickly find a rhythm that works, your bodies moving together in an otherworldly combination of two beings, two species, two souls.

Yuta’s long nails scrape gently against your skin as he holds your back, guiding you on his sex and pushing his hips up into you. You sigh into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, feeling the cool scales underneath your lips. You seek a firm grip on his slick skin, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

“Yuta…” You moan his name. His hand slides to the back of your neck so he can bring your face to his again, kissing you deeply. There’s a wet squelching sound as your bodies connect, Yuta’s tentacle slipping in and out of you and pleasurably stroking your walls.

“Y/N…” Yuta whispers into your soft hair, pushing into your spot repeatedly, his thighs tensing under you as his pace increases. You grip his arms as you feel your orgasm swelling up in your abdomen. You tip your head back and Yuta’s mouth goes to your neck and farther down, his heavy breaths warming your skin and making you overheat from the inside out.

You tighten and cum around him, your voice stuttering out of you in broken gasps as he keeps thrusting into you, drawing your climax out. He pulses inside of you, which sends little shockwaves up your spine; you know he’s probably close, too.

When Yuta comes, there’s a lot more of it than you expected. His cum overflows and drips out of you with a consistency like syrup and a transparent color like precum. It makes the inside of your thighs sticky and shiny.

Yuta pulls out, and more of his cum spills out of you, leaking onto his lap and staining the pier underneath you.

“That’s not gonna get me pregnant, is it?” you say quietly, half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Yuta chuckles.

“Probably!?”

Yuta carefully gathers you in his arms and stands to his feet, walking you off the pier and back towards the lake house. Your clothes are still on the pier, but you’re quickly getting sleepy and aren’t very worried about it; you’ll get them in the morning.

“What happens now?” Yuta murmurs as he walks up the front steps. You already know he’s referring not just to your relationship in this present moment, but to every event that will make up your future. Does he need to continue hiding, or is it really safe? How long will this last?

You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest. “We stay together.”

Yuta’s arms tighten around you as a silent affirmation of your words.

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