#I HAVE NOT HAD EVEN ONE YEAR OF SPOTIFY WRAPPED

[itsrensfairygardenn]

dilf!art x popstar!reader

mdni

— during the last months of his career and the whole process of the divorce, art only dreamed about a quiet life, peace and letting go of everything that had been enchaining him through his years of pro tennis. but once he finally retired? he felt miserable and bored out of his mind; to be honest, he only felt happy when he was with lily. good thing he had patrick and plenty of opportunities to solve all these problems.

— after couple months of hibernating in his house like a bear, he found himself taking care of all business matters — he and tashi had split up all the property and the family foundation; since this brought him passive income and did not require constant monitoring, he still had plenty of free time and god knows how much money. to deal with this and his craving for someone’s company, he decided to accept one of many invitations from his acquaintances — just a fancy event, patrick said it wouldn’t hurt at all.

— when he met you there, he had no idea who you were. after all, lily was too young for being interested in celebrities, and art wasn’t even on social media. he first saw you by the buffet table — you spoke to him while he was looking for a snack that didn’t look like a calorie bomb, and you just interrupted him, offering the most unhealthy-looking thing of the entire range. you looked so pretty, and you sincerely recommended him to try it, and you was eating it too; how could he possibly refuse you, seeing your fingers stained with buttercream? and that sheer dress you were wearing… it’s safe to say that he was very interested in your company.

— seemed like everyone wanted to have a sweet piece of your attention, but you’d spent more than enough time with him before you left — you were discussing everything and nothing at the same time; when he tried to flirt with you, it didn’t turn out to be as smoothly as he’d expected, but you flirted back, and you didn’t find him awkward at all… you both were in a rush, but he managed to ask you for your number.

— of course patrick was the one who told him who you were — he was like, chronically online, having accounts on every single social media platform to keep up with the times. it’s not like art wanted to know everything about you, but patrick didn’t care — he even told him about some of your ex-partners; god, art got so unsure of himself, that he zoned out for a second, contemplating the possibility of embarrassing himself by pushing his luck with you.

— but i mean, you are too gorgeous to not try to have a tiny bit of your attention, so he texted you after days of hesitation, and it turned out that you were as eager to get to know him better as you’d seemed that night — after you’d first called him ‘cute’, he needed time to cool off.

— things escalated quickly; you were out of town, busy with the festival season, so during the day you were exchanging occasional messages, waiting for the night to come to talk on the phone when you got back to your hotel room. if landline phones still were a thing, you’d probably find yourself twisting the wire around your finger like in those old movies.

— at the moment, he still hadn’t listened to any of your songs, but you have such a beautiful voice, that he was tempted to. but why would he need spotify when there was a better option?

— he flew to your concert in another country after a week of phone calls without hesitation — and once he did that, he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. he watched you through the entire show, waiting for you to glance at him, even if it was for the briefest of moments; he met you behind the stage as soon as you finished the show, and it didn’t bother him that you were sweaty, that your hair and makeup didn’t look perfect anymore — when you let him know that you were okay with leaving with him, he put his hand on the small of your back, leading you to his car. yes, maybe he wasn’t a big fan of pop music, but pop stars? he definitely had a thing for one.

— you weren’t exactly secret, but you were private for your own comfort — sure, people saw him at your concerts again and again, always sneaking backstage, always giving you the biggest bouquets of flowers. it was enough for everyone to make certain conclusions, and couple of blurry pictures through the windows of luxurious restaurants didn’t hurt — maybe a part of him was satisfied with people knowing that you two were a thing. he always took care of everything for you, making sure that everything was special, that the magic was there, even though everyone wanted to peek — he arranged bodyguards, cars with tinted windows, restaurants reserved just for you.

— you moved in with him in the fall, as soon as the concert season ended, and it’s safe to say that it was even more romantic than luxury hotel rooms and penthouses with sound insulation and king-size beds — you two hadn’t left the house for at least a week, and no, it wasn’t just about sex; your days were full of cuddles on the couch in front of the tv, with your legs intertwined under the duvet (you always kept the air conditioning on, so art would cling onto you a little bit more. your feet were always cold, and he always subconsciously tried to warm them up with his big, warm hands). you gave him all the comfort he needed, always making him feel loved and cared for.

— of course, his diet was still there, and he was still stuck on counting calories; he was afraid of losing his shape, especially now, when he had you, his young thing with countless other people around; all those guys who were better than him — skinnier, younger, maybe even better in bed?

— you were always there to show him how wrong he was; it’s not like you were trying to turn his daily ration into bunch of junky food, you only aimed to make him stop dividing food into good and bad; to show him that it was okay to have a dessert after dinner, or to eat a pizza or french fries when he felt like it — after he’d met you, food became much easier and tastier, just like his sports routine — when you two had days off, he always skipped his morning jog, because he didn’t want you to wake up alone in the bed, and he also didn’t have a heart to let go of you and remove your cold little nose from the crook of his neck (thanks to the air conditioner)

— you wrote songs about him — a lot of them, actually, and you rarely showed them to him before the actual release date, because you knew that he wasn’t a fan of pop music; he didn’t actually understand how those things worked, and you didn’t want to put him in awkward situations.

— “you can do a lot with fifteen minutes? that’s… that’s a lot to process, babe”

— like his ears are bright red every time he’s visiting you in the recording studio, but he always supports you as much as he can — he definitely has many of your songs in his playlist, mostly because he likes to listen to them when you’re away and he’s missing your voice; but he also enjoys thinking about the fact that you write songs about him — man untangles his old ass headphones every time he wants to hear you calling him cute boy (and also saying that he has a big dick, but he doesn’t admit it aloud)

— you’re for sure besties with patrick — he enjoys your songs too much for his own good, so when he attends your concerts along with art, he makes sure that everyone around them knows that he knows all the songs by heart; and he’ll never lose opportunity to tease art about the lyrics, too — his elbow nudge art’s ribs every time you look at him from the stage (“dude, do you have a golden dick or something?”)

— you literally made him look at his sexuality in a different way; of course, maybe it was because you’re so young and full of life and passion, or because he was so damn obsessed with you, but he definitely thought that sex with you was the closest to paradise he’d ever experienced.

— when he comes to pick you up from the recording studio, you always linger there for quite awhile after everyone leaves; sometimes you close the door, sometimes art insists on leaving it unlocked, even though he’s still a bit shy about his desires — anyway, he doesn’t think about it when you ride him on that huge leather couch that always creaks like crazy every time you start moving faster; he grabs your hips, pushing himself inside of you to the point of feeling like he’s about to pass out, and the couch is about to fall apart.

— phone sex, obviously; the best part of his day when you’re on tour. sometimes he’s so horny that your very voice is enough for him to cum in his pajama pants, but when you’re telling him that you think about him when you’re showering after a concert, or simply saying how much you miss him? yes, it indeed takes two to make him finish.

hehe thank you for reading! i got sick right before valentine’s day, so i spent the day bitchless in my bed preparing for the philosophy class, but i felt like dilf!art healed me 🐈

[autisticlancemcclain]

I FUCKING HATE SHARING SPOTIFY WITH A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[just-spacetrash]

[britneyshakespeare]

i love bratz as dolls but i fuckin hate mga as a brand. fuckin idiots

[mclivable]

Posting this here cause I got some things to say:

First off, yellowcard and mcr actually makes complete sense I was obsessed with then this year, but I genuinely don't remember listening to much of dodie, one direction, and I think I know one song by Stephen. And that one song which was my bad I fell asleep while it was on repeat whoops. Not a bad song, but a disappointing warped is all.

[estrellami-1]

Ok so I saw a post about Steve as a teacher letting his kids control his Spotify which means his Wrapped is All Over The Place but the top artist is Corroded Coffin and Steve finds out from the thank-you video that Eddie is hot. I see it, I love it, it’s inspired.

I’m thinking something… a little different.

“Alright, class!” Steve calls. “Marcus, it’s your turn to choose the music, right?”

“Actually, Mr. H?” Amber pipes up. “Spotify Wrapped came out today!”

Steve blinks. “Spotify… what?”

Marcus is nodding. “Spotify Wrapped! It tallies up what you’ve listened to and gives you stats and stuff. It’s cool!”

“Ah,” Steve says, nodding, squinting at his computer. “And I see that… how?”

There’s a cacophony of noise until Steve holds up a hand. Everyone quiets, and Becky holds her hand up. He nods at her. “It’s at the top,” she says softly. “Where your recently played is.”

He smiles at her. “Thank you, Becky.” He navigates to it, clicking on it and letting the graphic play.

Their genre, apparently, is soft grass indie metal. He’s entirely sure that’s made up. Their top artist, making up sixty-four percent of the music they listened to, is Corroded Coffin.

There’s a video; a little thank-you the band put together. It starts with Eddie up front, as the lead singer. Gareth, Jeff, and Freak are slightly behind him, grinning at the camera. Steve recognizes the background as Jeff’s living room. “Hi!” Eddie starts. “Thanks so much for listening to our music this year.”

“We couldn’t do what we do without you,” Gareth adds on.

“And everything we do is for you!” Jeff says.

“It’s totally metal of you to listen to our music, and we appreciate it!” Freak finishes. They all wave, and the camera cuts off.

Steve is… gobsmacked. He loves his husband, truly, but he looks so uncomfortable, and the way he’s speaking is weirdly stilted. He was not made to stand still.

He shakes his head, knowing he’s about to make Eddie’s year, and blow these kids’ minds.

Eddie had always been more vocal than Steve about coming out, saying fuck it to the consequences. Maybe being gay was accepted in the metal community, but Steve had been too new in his current job to even think about the jeopardy this could put his career in.

But honestly. That video was terrible, and his kids deserve better.

He sighs, raises a hand to get the class’s attention. “I know that was cool,” he chuckles. “But if you can be quiet and patient, I could get you something even cooler.”

“Cooler than a video from Corroded Coffin?” Nick asks.

Steve tilts his head. “Cooler than that video, at least.”

Nick doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

Steve just smiles. “How about we find out?” He puts a finger to his lips and FaceTimes Eddie.

He makes sure his volume is low, enough so that he even has trouble hearing when Eddie picks up.

“Baby!” Eddie exclaims, then clocks the background and is instantly worried. “Wait, you’re still at work. Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did you hit your head again? Do I need to come get you?”

“Christ, you’re dramatic,” Steve mutters, grinning wide. “I’m fine. I’m with my class, and we just finished looking at our Spotify Wrapped. Guess who our number one artist for the year was.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. He grins. Steve nods. “Corroded Coffin,” he confirms, then sighs. “I have to say, though, I was a little disappointed by the video.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back. Steve gets a great view up his husband’s nose. “I know! I know, it sucked, but the guys were happy with it and it was, like, our eighth go, and-”

“I get it,” Steve promises. “But how would you like to one-up it?”

It takes Eddie a second, but his eyes gleam. “Are you sure? Your career-”

“Is stable enough now,” Steve finishes. “I’m sure. If you are.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mouths, conscientious of Steve’s class. “I love you.”

Steve smiles, blows a kiss to the camera. He gets a smattering of awws from some of his female students.

He figures out how to connect his phone to his computer to the screen, pushes the volume button up, and nods. “Go, Eds.”

Eddie grins and waves at the screen. “Hi, Mr. Harrington’s class! I’ve heard so much about you guys. It’s totally metal that you’re listening to our music—that’s something your teacher neglected to tell me.” He grins at the screen, a private thing for Steve, who dutifully rolls his eyes.

“I hear your music every day, Eds, forgive me if I don’t think anything of it when I hear it here and at home.”

“Mr. H,” Nathan asks in a pseudo-whisper, “how the hell do you know Eddie Munson?”

Eddie bursts out in a laugh. “You must be Nathan,” he says.

Nathan goes white, then pink. “H-hi, Mr. Munson, sir.”

“I think you should be their teacher,” Steve says, grinning first at Eddie, then his class. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Nathan say sir before.”

Everyone laughs—including Nathan—and Eleanor raises her hand. “How do you know him?”

Steve takes a breath, glances at his phone. Eddie’s smiling patiently at him, and Steve’s own smile grows as he answers her. “I’m his husband,” he tells her.

“Ten years and counting!” Eddie crows. “Though we’ve known each other for… twenty… something.”

Steve chuckles. “Twenty-three, Eds. If you count high school, which I don’t.”

“But I do,” Eddie nods. “Twenty-three years. And counting.”

Steve chuckles again. “And counting,” he agrees.

As his room explodes into noise, he looks back at his phone to find Eddie already looking at him.

That’s the way it goes, he thinks. Eddie saw him the whole time. It took Steve a while to catch up, but now that he has, he’s never been happier.

Twenty-three years and counting, indeed.

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

‘Wrapped’ Around My Finger

“Good evening everyone! I’m your host Ann Romano joined tonight by two of the biggest names in music….please give it up for Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson and Grammy winner Steve Harrington!”

The crowd goes wild.

This is a big deal, two of the biggest names in history with a giant rivalry.

Everyone knew the story. They grew up in a small town together and were on different levels of popularity ultimately ruining what could’ve been a fantastic friendship. Even now ten years since high school they can’t get over it. They hate each other always trying to one up each other.

Eddie trying to make a point that even the freaks can become famous. Stating, “I didn’t need money like Steve Harrington to win a Grammy I have my talent to thank for that.”

The two walk out onto the stage and sit on the couch making sure to leave some distance between them.

“Thank you both for coming out tonight! I know it’s a big trip from LA to New York. It probably helps that you live here huh Steve?”

“Actually I moved to LA.”

Eddie turns to look at him shocked.

“You moved? When did you move? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have mattered? It’s not like we see each other anyway. You can barely look at me and you’re sitting two inches from me.”

Eddie huffs in his seat and turns towards Ann, trying to remember what little of his media training he had.

“I only care because I’m a good neighborly fellow of course.”

Ann laughs flicks her hand at him.

“Oh you guys are just too funny. I knew you secretly cared for each other which brings me to my next segment, a game I like to call, “Wrapped Up!” You see gentleman, both of your agents gave me access to your Spotify wrapped and now we’re gonna let the audience in as well!”

The two turn white.

“Is that necessary?” Eddie asks through gritted teeth.

“Why not?” Steve adds in. “I have nothing to hide.” He narrows his eyes at Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

Ann laughs nervously. “Fantastic! Let’s jump to it!”

She gestures behind her where a giant screen shows Steve’s wrapped.

“Alight fellas, Eddie gets three points for every artist he guesses on the first try. He gets three tries, one point if he gets the artist by the third try.”

“Easy.” Eddie smirks.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You always were easy.”

“Alright guys let’s focus on the game here!” Ann jumps in.

“Alright number 5….Wham.”

*a bell rings*

“Fantastic start Eddie!”

“What’d I say, easy,” he smirks.

“4. Tears for Fears.”

“3. ABBA.”

“2. Queen.”

“1. Toto.”

*incorrect buzzer sound*

“Ok…Madonna.”

*incorrect*

“Alright Eddie this is your last chance. You’ve done fantastic so far so I think you’re going to win no matter what. Sorry Steve.” Ann says.

“Hey none taken. I definitely didn’t even think he’d do this well.” Steve smirks at him.

“Alright big boy hold onto your pants. I got this.”

Eddie takes a deep inhale.

“Brittney Spears!”

*louder more incorrect buzzer*

“Ugh!”

“Sorry Eddie! But I don’t think even you could’ve guessed this one. Are you ready folks let’s see what it is-”

The crowd goes wild.

Steve’s smirks goes crazy.

Eddie is pale.

Up on the screen in big obnoxious letters is “CORRODED COFFIN”

“That’s right folks! Since Eddie did so well let’s let him play a similar game for Steve’s top songs. Are you ready Eddie!”

Eddie is not breathing.

“Um-”

“Great let’s start!”

“5….Girls just wanna have fun?”

*DING*

“4.Dancing Queen”

*incorrect buzzer*

“Material Girl”

*incorrect buzzer*

Eddie sighs.

“Crown of Thorns.”

*DING*

“That’s right Eddie! Your very own song Crown of Thorns was his number 4? Wanna take a guess at the rest?”

Eddie grits his teeth. “I’m not sure I have a choice.”

“Haha of course you don’t! Now! Number three!”

“3. Heavy is the Head.”

“2. Reign.”

“1….”

He looks nervous.

“Kneel Before the King.”

*DING*

“You got them! Fantastic work Eddie! Were you surprised that four of his five were songs written by you? How could you possibly guess them?”

“At first I was surprised…you know we have this rivalry thing going on but…I’ve been watching Steve since I was fourteen. I know him well. As soon as I saw his top artist I knew his top songs would be the ones I wrote about him.”

The crowd gasps.

“Don’t get me wrong I wrote a lot more about him but these in particular…”

“They’re about forbidden love.” Steve chimes in. His eyes are watering.

“Yeah.”

“That’s why they were my favorite.”

Eddie gives him a sad smile.

“You wrote them about me?”

Eddies smile turns into a frown. “About you, for you, it was always for you, all of them.”

“All of them?”

“Everything. My entire discography. Every performance. Every press tour. Every photo shoot. You just had to worm your way into my life Harrington…my heart.” He whispers that last part but they’re so close together Steve can hear it.

Well barely hear it…his heartbeat is so loud in his ears.

“Anyways Ann what’s next.”

Ann is staring at him in open mouthed shock.

“Wow. This so perfect.” She turns to Steve. “Ready for your turn?”

“Nah.” Eddie says. “Skip to my number one artist.”

Behind them a video starts playing on the screen.

“Hey it’s Steve! Thanks so much for being my number one fan! I mean top .01 percent is a tough spot to get! It means so much to me that I’m your number one artist-”

Steve can’t take his eyes off of Eddie, when could he ever?

“I’m your number one artist?” he asks so softly Eddie can barely hear it.

“Of course…I like the sound of your voice.” He shrugs his shoulder like it’s no big deal.

“Can we talk? I mean after the show?”

Eddie smiles at him.

“Of course Stevie, I’d like that.”

“I would also like to know!” Ann cuts in.

They forgot this was being streamed to millions of people and filmed in front of a live studio audience.

—————

Later Backstage:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE MY NEW NEIGHBOR HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS!!!????”

“Honestly Eddie I don’t know. For someone who claims to be obsessed with me-”

“I didn’t-“”

“Obsessed.” Steve puts a finger to Eddie’s lips to shut him up. “You didn’t notice I’d moved in next door.”

“Hell just move in with me.”

“…alright.”

[hwajin]

☆°. — 2024; in fics !!

since the year is coming to an end (and spotify wrapped finally came out) i wanted to make a short, personal tumblr wrapped, shouting out my fav fics i've read this year; to both recap AND animate other ppl to read them as well!! it's not a ton, but it's the fics that stayed with me the most <3

one shots

☆ ; 22 strokes ; @cb97percent || MYYY fav piece of short erotic literature this year. i've grown out of reading pure smut/ porn without plot and i get soo bored scrolling the smut tags lately, but god THIS was absolute perfection. personally, for me, good smut is when i'm reading more than just nasty fucking; and this definitely delivered. i also remember the visuals so well, like the first sentence i read i was instantly pulled into the same view i had when i first read it!! 10/10 would reread it a million times and not get bored!!!

☆ ; starry night ; @astraystayyh || AHHHH i remembered the feeling i had while i read this INSTANTLY like it catapulted me right back!!! like this is JUST the romantic shit i LOVE and yearn and long for, and reading it tore my heart APART i loved it so so much omg. i kept remembering this one shot from time to time when i visited museums OR looked at my starry night print above my bed!! i need to reread this fully next time i see a van gogh hehe

☆ ; wherever you are ; @hyunverse || god i remember this hurting me just in the right places and then flicking my heart back again. friends to lovers will always be my fav genre of anything EVER but the little twist added to this made this fic SOOO unique and fun?? like the way it's written in parts i enjoyed SO much, the continuous timeline of them growing up together, the writingggg??? this one shot inspired me to a fic of my own (which i've never finished </3) and i feel like that says enough about how much it affected me 🫶🫶

☆ ; the snow falls apart, we fall apart ; @/astraystayyh || i sobbed over this one. SO so much. the time where 'long for you' came out was so crazy because everyone wrote their hearts out and this was amongst my favourites i've read. the visuals are so impressive because i (once again) remember this one shot so vividly before my inner eye, like i remember laying in bed and reading this, close to tears and everything. the longing and unsureness and the unspoken love in this has haunted me for soooo long it all came right back when i saw this fic in my reblogs. i wanna reread it so bad actually especially since it's getting so cold and grey now 😭

serieses

☆ ; super bored ; @straywrds || okay. OKAY. mari, you're already fucking know what i'm about to say because i am annOYING when it comes to this series; but it is, no lying, the best i have ever read. if this was a full on novel i wouldn't even question it a second, and it would be no doubt one of my favourites. when i scrolled through my reblogs to check what fanfictions had struck with me i already knew super bored would be included because it would have been ILLEGAL not to. it was also the only piece i knew by heart, with no need of rereading a first sentence to remember the feeling i had when i first discovered it; i only need a quick glance at blue hydrangeas and frogs for the feelings to come back. or when i think of paris. or when i listen to this and this song (je l'aime à mourir was my most listened to song this year... like hello). like this piece has struck me SO incredibly deep and i so so hope that you know that!! (i doubt that you don't.... i was and still am in your asks about it like a leech jfjejd) like i truly and genuinely don't believe that there's another reader who loves super bored as much as me, the way my throat formed a clump when i skimmed over the tags i wrote!!! i miss the universe so so much, i hope (without any intended pressure, of course) that you get the time and motivation to finish it at some point, even if it's in 10 years time!!! after yapping so much i wanted to truly thank you for writing and sharing this piece with us; i hold it dear to my heart, every single day <3

[alittlebitofsainz]

- sunshine -

prompt: “you give me hope when the dark clouds fill the sky, you always find a way through, my little ray of sunshine.���

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: they say first is the worst, second is the best, but what about if you were so close to first place? 100% inspired by the events of this weekend lando stop being so mean to yourself pls and thank u xoxo

warnings: lando being a miserable little so and so. the usual swear words.

a/n: I’m BACK! I moved house and then just became very busy and also rather uninspired. not sure if I’m 100% happy with this but I just wanted to post something!! missed u all heaps and heaps, hope to keep writing more very soon xx lyrics from track #67 sunshine by the brummies. thought this band were from good ol’ birmingham west midlands but turns out they’re from birmingham alabama

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

it wasn’t uncommon for lando to be like this.

he’d gotten a lot better over recent years, but every so often the self-criticism would creep in again. you could anticipate it coming; it would start with little comments, a muttered “lando, you fucking idiot” to himself here and there, self deprecating jokes to interviewers about that final corner where he’d gone off and ruined his lap. it could go on like that for a while, until eventually something would set him off properly, like a ticking time bomb that had gradually been building pressure until it was ready to explode.

“fuck sake.”

you watched as lando trailed through the garage, a string of curses muttered through gritted teeth as he passed, seeking solace from the TV cameras. admittedly, you could understand his frustration; even you had thrown your hands up in the air as he’d been squeezed out of first place on the very first corner. it was unlucky, but it was also his own fault for making a mistake: lando knew it, you knew it, and you also knew that he was feeling it. you watched him go past and disappear off down the corridor, no doubt heading for the solace of his drivers room. you paused, weighing up your options for just a moment.

“Lan?”

the echo of your knock on his drivers room door reverberated down the corridor. the mclaren motorhome was a ghost town, reminding you of the fact that everyone else was out celebrating - everyone but lando, rather ironically.

a noise came from inside the room, no doubt lando grumbling something inaudible under his breath as he made his way across the room, before the door eventually opened. you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you - it had been such a long while since you’d seen him this way. it was subtle; the average person may not have even picked up on it, but you could always tell. It was his eyes, they somehow lacked the hues of green and blue they usually possessed, instead reflecting back a washed out grey colour, like the light had gone out from behind them.

“you got p2, Lan.” you reminded him softly as he stepped away, a silent invitation for you to come in. you knew those words wouldn’t help.

“it should’ve been p1.” came the mumbled reply from where lando had sunk back down on the sofa. you kicked the door closed behind you and made your way over to sit down beside him, your shoulder pressed into his.

“but you were so close, lan, a few more laps and you would’ve got him, I know it.”

“I know I was close!” your response had touched upon something lando didn’t want to hear, a fact you were made very aware of from the bitterness in his tone as he snapped back at you, “but I wasn’t close enough. I fucked up on that first corner. the team deserved better.”

you leaned back on the sofa, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over your next words. you’d been here before, in this vicious cycle where the more you tried to remind lando how incredible he was, the more he’d refute it, the more frustrated and self critical he’d become. one of those times, he’d told you that you wouldn’t understand, and it had hurt. it had hurt because you knew it was true. you didn’t understand. you didn’t understand how lando could be such a great driver and still best himself up over the smallest of mistakes.

“‘m sorry. didn’t mean to shout at you.”

you glanced up from where your gaze had drifted down to your lap as you’d been considering your response, only to find your eyes locked with lando’s grey ones, full of something you quickly identified as remorse. he’d mistaken your silence, assumed that you’d been wounded by the sharpness in his tone, when in reality you had barely registered it - you knew his fleeting anger wasn’t directed at you. it was directed at himself.

“no, no, don’t worry ‘bout it. I was just thinking, that’s all.” you sat back up quickly, shaking your head as you forced your expression to soften, “I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better, to make you see how well you did today, but-“

“just you being here is enough.”

the reply with which he cut you off was so quiet that you had to tilt your head and give lando a questioning look, one that told him you weren’t quite sure you’d heard him right. he let out a soft sigh, eyes directed to the floor, the faintest hint of red colouring his cheeks as he cleared his throat.

“I said, you being here is enough. with me.” he clarified, voice just a little louder than before.

“Lan, there’s nowhere else I would be right now, you know that.” you dropped your voice, matching his soft tone. an instinctive hand came to rest upon his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I just mean-“ lando shifted slightly to face you, expression swimming with a quiet admiration, “I don’t always make it… easy.”

you let out a chuckle at that, despite the situation, and it earned you a raised eyebrow and the smallest hint of a smile from lando.

“what I’m trying to say is,” lando continued, “I really appreciate you sticking with me. not just now, but, like, through everything. even when I’m like this.” lando gestured vaguely around the room, but he didn’t even need to for you to know exactly what he meant.

“even when you’re grumpy.” you clarified helpfully. that one earned you a playful scowl.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that.” he complained, but his tone was lighter than before. “and anyway, I was trying to be serious, don’t ruin it.”

you held your hands up in mock surrender and stifled another laugh, before letting out a soft sigh, observing lando quietly for a moment.

“I’m always on your side, Lan, even if you’re not.” the sincerity in your tone was reflected in your expression as you held his gaze for a moment more, before dropping your head onto his shoulder, his hand finding your own as your fingers intertwined.

it was perfect and peaceful, until it wasn’t. until a knock at the door and the voice of lando’s pr manager brought you both back down to earth, reminding lando that it was time to go out and deal with the interviews. he let out a sigh, reverting back to the solemn state you’d found him in, and you wished you could make it all go away, to tell all the reporters to fuck off. but as you flicked your gaze back to lando, catching his eye as he stood up and smoothed the base of his fireproofs, you realised that he was going to be fine: he flashed you a lopsided smile, and for a moment the afternoon sunlight caught his eyes, the flecks of blue and green dancing across them once again. yeah, you were both going to be fine.

you flashed him a final smile as he slipped out of the drivers room, leaving you alone in there with your thoughts until he returned.

a/n: as always, I might add more to this if I feel so inclined! let me know if you want to be tagged xo

[blingblong55]

What Would I do?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

A/N: I woke up, wrote this in the middle of the night, listened to my sleeping playlist and decided that you could need this, so...here you go. All the events aren't written in chronological order, but rather moments at random that lead to something...I won't spoil this part, so read it, babes. I know this isn't to the quality of the latest ones I've put out but just bare with me on this one, I had a lot of ideas! And you’re more than welcome to search the title on Spotify, it’s a good song that obviously matches this fic

-- F!Reader, established!relationship, fluff, boyfriend!simon --

Boyfriend, what a word for a man like him. Is it the sweetness of your touch? Could it be the way you are so gentle with him? Maybe it's the way he found himself driving to your place instead of his own after a long day of work. Whatever it is, the answer to all his problems is you. You, you, you, and lovely you. 

From the beginning, he told you he isn't a man that will ever be called a husband. You, of course–saddened by this comment–just nodded and accepted it. He always meant it because, with the life he's had, there is no way in hell he would want to add to his worries. Plus, he doesn't need love, doesn't need the companionship. It's just him and the stress he carries. 

Then, you came in. 

"Before we begin this, I won't ever marry you, I'm not sorry if you feel bad, it's just my decision." He states and since it's a fresh relationship, you nod, "I understand." 

From then on, he didn't need to remind you. It was always in the back of your head that no matter what, he'd stay a boyfriend. Even now, five years into a relationship. Living in separate places, and different friend groups, your love for him persists and you stay through the good and bad. Maybe it's because even if you'll never wear the wedding dress in your Pinterest board, you will have him, for however long he'll have you. Please, god let it be forever. 

--

"I can't sleep," you say over the phone. This is how it started. How after one year together, he finds himself driving to your place, you didn't ask for it but he won't let your insomnia ruin your day off. What is it about you that has him finding ways to make your life better? Could it be that you drove to pick him up one time from the airport? Maybe it's the way kissing you feels? No, that can't be. Is it that you understand him? Maybe. 

Whatever it is, he unlocks your front door with the spare key you gave him. As he approaches your room, he finds you listening to the song you said reminds you of him. What's this weird feeling in his chest? Why does this scene make him feel warm? Goosebumps, no, he never gets goosebumps. 

He pushes your door gently and you turn around. "Simon, hi," you immediately pause the song, hoping he didn't recognise it in time. But he did and that caused him to smile—oh silly girl. "Hi, lovie," his voice much softer now. Hesits down, wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your head. "What's in that pretty head of yours, hm?" he asks and at the same time, you find yourself to be more comfortable in his hold. 

"Everything," you mumble and that's when you hear that deep and soft chuckle of his.

Within five minutes, he finds himself lying in bed with you, holding a book he found on your nightstand. He looks down at you, your head resting on his chest, right where it belongs. 

As you close your eyes, that's when you hear it, he starts to read out loud. Usually, he would just lay in bed until you fell asleep. But not tonight, something told him to just read to you. Is it that maybe he wants you to be comfortable? Toprovide you what you provide for him? Whatever it is, it has got him here. His voice is soothing, it's calming in many ways. He doesn't understand it, no matter how many times you explain that you love it. 

--

"Lovie?" he calls out to you when he arrives at your place. This is the first time he calls you a pet name. It feels...odd but good to do this. He steps further into your place, the lights are dim, something he knows you love because it makes the rooms more "aesthetically pleasing to walk into". "Love?" he calls out and that's when panic sets in. 

You always answer, to the first time he calls your name. 

He rushes into your room, only to see you asleep. There is a moment when his gaze softens. It's almost comical how much he has changed. How much he has wanted to change. 

He was never like this with past partners, I mean he did like them and all but with you, he is trying and trying to understand all your creases, to become someone worthy of much more than that sweet smile you give him. So, he leans by the doorway to your bedroom and watches you sleep. 

How can someone be so beautiful at all times? How can you make him feel so...good? So safe and happy? God, he loves you. And as he watches you sleep, he feels his chest warm up, something odd and for a second it feels like he is getting a heart attack. But then he realises it.

He is in love...true love. 

--

"What's this?" he asks as one day he finds you, sitting by the dining table with a cake and a candle. 

"It's your birthday, and I know you don't celebrate but...maybe this can be a one-time thing," your voice soft and that's when he feels his chest tighten. He drops his bags, makes sure the door is locked and sits beside you. He pulls you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. You light up a singular candle, holding the small cake to him. 

At this moment, when the only light comes from the candle and the kitchen hood lights, he can take his mask off and appreciate how you gently sing for him. This was the first time he celebrated his birthday, well...first time in over a decade where it felt good to do so.

When he blows the candles, his gaze shifts from the cake to you. You kiss his forehead and his brows furrow whilst his eyes close. God, this is home. "Happy birthday, Simon," you whisper as you set the cake down. 

Maybe heaven is real after all. His faithless prayers were answered and his angel arrived. 

--

Coughs, headaches and long naps.

Simon has been sick for three days so far and has possibly got the best nurse around. You.

"Eat–"

"I'm not hungry, y/n," he says but you give him that mum look. "Eat, Simon." you persist and he sighs, opening his mouth as you feed him a spoonful of soup. You smile as you watch him eat. It worries you that this is the first meal he actually accepts but you're also content about it. "S'good," he comments and you nod. Of course, it's good, you think. 

As you leave the room to get him some warm tea, he lays there, appreciating the past days. He wouldn't admit it but he loves this, loves to get pampered by you. It's the first time in so long that where feels cared for, like someone out there means all the little things they do to make him feel better. 

--

Dinner at your family's house. He is nervous even though he's been here before. This time he feels different, there is something in the air tonight. He holds your hand as you walk through the threshold. 

Greeting family members was always the longest part but if you enjoy it, so will he. 'God, this wasn't me before you came in, Y/N,' he says to himself. 

Sitting around the family room, your sibling's children run around and while you get carried away talking and gossiping with your siblings, he finds himself being the centre of attention to all the children. "Uncle Simon, I want to fly like a plane again!" one of the younger kids exclaimed. You look around and see him there, holding a child in his arms, the biggest smile on him as he watches the child giggle while he parades them around the room as if they were a plane. 

He puts the child down, looks over at you and his gaze softens. Your heart melts at this. He has never looked so perfect like right now. 

On the drive home, he holds your hand in his as he drives. 

There is something in the air. Something sweet that screams future life. He looks over at you for a second then back at the road. That's how he finds himself picturing you and him, moving in together, settling down and running around the house you both call home, chasing your children while he tries to fix the light in the kitchen. 

Domesticty is what he craves when it's just you two.

--

There came a time when he lay in bed with you, shirtless with only his boxers on as he laid his head on your chest. Hisarms lazily resting at your sides, bodies intertwined while he listens to your heartbeat. Your hand caresses his back while the other runs from his neck to his hair. He hums, slowly mumbling about his day. Maybe after all havingsomeone isn't the end of the world. 

He closes his eyes, taking in the comfort of your hold, the bedsheets and the safety he feels at this exact moment. 

--

Three days, that's how long it took for a mission to last before he calls you, mid-day for him, midnight for you. "My love, where are you?" he asks in a panic. "Home, why? Is everything okay?" you ask before he cuts you off. "I was taking a nap and dreamt that you died," he says, nearly out of breath. 

"Trust me, it will be hard to get rid of me, you've got me for at least thirty lifetimes," you say with a smile and he can hear it. He loves it when you distract him with witty comments. "I better have you for more than thirty, my love," he says at that moment, the nickname feels right. More than right. He wants to keep calling you that until his dying breath. 

--

It was a random evening. You were stuck figuring out some hobby of yours as he cooked dinner. And as he waits for the food to be done baking he leans on the counter and looks out the window. 

He thought about the one time he dodged a failed relationship with you. 

What if you hadn't sat down and talked it out? Would you be in another man's arms? Would you be giving them the kisses that belong to him? What if your cuddles belonged to another guy? 

Your laugh rings in his ears and he can't imagine you laughing at any other man's jokes but his. Who but you to laugh at his jokes, your hand on his shoulder or chest as your eyes crinkle at the corners like always? 

It hits him suddenly that all those years ago when he told you that he would never be someone's husband should have never been said. You know why. It is because he won't be someone's husband, not when in his mind he has been yours all along. Sure he doesn't have the official title but the nose kisses you give him, the ones where he pretends to hate them with a grumble are something. 

--

"There is something, something I lied about years ago when I met you." he begins. You're in his lap, surely it isn't to end this sweet love. "I find myself hating on what I said, hating that it's been a lie. I love you," his voice softens at those three words, he sighs and looks into your eyes. "I have no idea what my life looks like from the outside, but when I look at my future, there is one thing I see," he clears his throat. "You, I see you and me. I always thought of myself as the guy everyone forgets about, because he had three friends and that was it."

He takes your hand in his, "And then, you came along, and I see a life, I see myself in ways I never did before. Youchanged me, you make me want to keep coming home, coming to hold you, to show you I will never break my promise." His lips find your knuckles, "I have no fucking idea what life is after you because I don't want a life after you, I want my life to be spent here. I have no clue what or who I was before you came into my life. What would I do without? No clue but I know what to do with you now," he looks into your eyes and you see how much he means every word. 

"Just promise me this, stay with me." he gently gets up and your gaze shifts as now you look up at him. "Stay, because I am nothing but a lifeless soldier, looking for someone and I'm done looking, y/n, I found you and that's all I need now," he says. 

He gets down on one knee, "Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?" He asks, his gaze full of so much hope and in that moment, your heart races. Tears well up in your eyes and you nod. Speechless but with a huge grin, you nod. 

"Yes," you manage to say. You don't even notice the ring, but you feel him slide it onto your ring finger. He smiles, like a child on Christmas as he gets up and embraces you, making sure this isn't him creating an illusion. 

"Oh, my love," his voice muffled, face buried in your neck. "I love you so much and I will prove to you that this wasn't a mistake. I will make you the happiest woman alive," he says, pulling away and kissing you with conviction. 

Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[levandright]

And oh, how I'd love to go Paris again

pairing : jake x f!reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : non-idol au, love at first sight, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers(not stated but heavily implied), tension, they're in love your honor, fate reference/mention, can be read as either hs or uni au its up to you ୨ৎ word count : 5.9k

synopsis. you're overwhelmed with your school finals close by, while you are taking a short break from your studying, you couldn't help but reminisce about your precious memories in the city of love when a song that reminds you of your time in paris play. ୨ৎ lev notes : the class trip may not be 100% accurate but its for the plot okay... i had to make it inspired by the 1975 cause i love them too much not to do so + it fits with how i literally have them as my top artist this year :3 (i started writing this days earlier before spotify wrapped lol) also i literally had paris on loop for like 7 hours in total while writing this... anyways hope y'all like this cause it took a lot of brain power to write it, trust i will post what the heart wants as soon as i finish a surprise fic im working on rn ꒰⠀for @sugarikiz event 'ʏᴏᴜʀ ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 ᴏɴʟʏ ☁︎.𖥔 ' ꒱

you're at your school's library, cramming for your upcoming finals. with a little over a week to prepare for months' worth of lessons across multiple subjects, the pressure is taking quite a toll on you. two cups of coffee sit beside your laptop, one already empty. even though you've been studying for less than 40 minutes, you already feel the urge to down all the caffeine left in front of you just to keep from dozing off again.

sigh, 'just gotta finish this whole powerpoint. then, i can finally relax for a bit' you silently hype yourself out. with the reward of a break for an hour of studying, you quickly go through the entire lesson in a flash.

grabbing the not empty cup of coffee, you take a much needed sip to keep yourself awake for more hours of studying.

a while later, you're stretching in your seat after having finished with that specific powerpoint. 'finally i can take a break' you think to yourself

as you sit, and stare at your laptop's screen. contimplating on what to do to pass time, you decide to play music to relax yourself.

clicking the shuffle button on your playlist. you put your headphones on and rest your head on your arms, as the familiar tune of paris by the 1975 play.

the music pulls you into a memory, that unforgettable class trip to paris.

꒰ and oh, how i'd love to go paris again ꒱

you’re on the bus, the city outside the window slowly coming to life. everyone in your class is chatting excitedly, pointing out landmarks and planning what to do when you finally get off. the eiffel tower is getting closer, its towering frame making your heart race with excitement.

“can you believe we’re actually here?” keeho says, leaning over to nudge your shoulder. his energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile.

hyunjin, sitting across the aisle, snaps a quick photo through the window. “this already feels unreal,” he says, grinning. “i’m going to fill my camera roll today.”

the bus comes to a stop, and your teacher announces a short break to explore the area. the three of you quickly stick together as everyone spills out onto the cobblestone street. paris feels alive—the air smells like fresh bread and coffee, and the chatter of locals blends with the hum of passing cars.

“we need food. let’s find a café!” keeho declares, already marching toward a row of cozy-looking places with outdoor seating.

you follow, laughing as hyunjin drags you by the wrist to keep up. he’s scanning every building, taking quick snapshots of anything that catches his eye. “wait, stand here,” he says suddenly, pulling out his phone to snap a candid photo of you and keeho in front of a flower shop.

“are you going to take pictures the whole trip?” you tease.

“obviously,” hyunjin replies, unbothered. “someone has to document how good we look in paris.”

eventually, the three of you settle at a small café. the waiter brings over menus, and you all take a moment to soak it all in. keeho orders a slice of cake, hyunjin gets a croissant and coffee, and you decide on a simple baguette sandwich.

“okay, this is officially the best food i’ve ever had,” keeho says after his first bite.

“it’s just cake,” hyunjin says, rolling his eyes but stealing a forkful anyway.

you laugh as they bicker, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. sitting there with your best friends, surrounded by the magic of paris, everything feels perfect.

after finishing your meals, you and your friends head back to the bus to regroup with your class. the energy is buzzing as everyone talks about their plans for the rest of the day. your teacher announces that the next stop is a famous museum nearby.

the museum is grand, with high ceilings and beautiful architecture that makes you feel small in the best way. inside, it’s quieter, with your classmates dispersing into smaller groups.

hyunjin immediately pulls out his camera again. “this lighting is perfect,” he mutters, snapping a photo of a sculpture in the corner.

keeho rolls his eyes with a smirk. “he’s gonna be like this the whole time.”

“he’s consistent, at least,” you joke, earning a laugh from keeho as the two of you start wandering through the exhibits together.

the artwork is stunning—paintings that feel alive, sculptures that seem to breathe. you and keeho take your time strolling through the halls, sharing your thoughts on each piece.

“i don’t get this one,” keeho says, staring at an abstract painting.

“it’s open to interpretation,” you reply.

“so… the artist spilled paint everywhere?”

you nudge his arm. “be serious!”

keeho grins but then glances around. “hey, i’m gonna find the bathroom real quick. don’t get lost.”

“sure, sure,” you say, waving him off.

as he walks away, you wander aimlessly, letting your feet carry you through the museum’s winding halls. you stop to admire a large painting of a serene countryside when, out of nowhere, you bump into someone.

“oh, i’m so sorry!” you blurt out, taking a step back.

the stranger turns to you, and your words catch in your throat. he’s tall, with warm eyes and a gentle smile. his presence feels calm, yet somehow magnetic.

“no worries,” he says, his voice warm and calm, with a hint of an australian accent you catch right away. “are you okay?”

you nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “y-yeah, i wasn’t looking where i was going.”

he chuckles lightly, brushing it off. “happens to the best of us.”

he pauses for a moment, as if waiting to see if you’ll say anything else. you manage a small smile. “thanks for being so nice about it. i’m—uh…” before you can finish, keeho’s voice rings out from somewhere nearby.

“hey, y/n! where’d you go?”

the spell is broken, and you glance over your shoulder to see keeho waving at you. turning back to the stranger, you offer an apologetic smile. “that’s my friend. i should go.”

“of course,” he says, still smiling. “take care.”

you hurry off toward keeho, your heart still racing. as you rejoin your friends, you glance back briefly to see the stranger walking away. something about the moment lingers, a small spark you can’t quite explain.

after regrouping with keeho and hyunjin, the three of you continue exploring the museum. hyunjin has finally tucked his camera away, much to keeho’s relief.

“didn’t think i’d ever see the day you’d stop taking pictures,” keeho teases.

“i’m just saving space for later,” hyunjin retorts, grinning. “besides, i want to actually enjoy this.”

the three of you move through the museum, pausing at different exhibits. keeho offers more of his hilarious “critiques,” while hyunjin points out details you might’ve missed. for a while, it feels like time doesn’t exist, just the three of you soaking in the beauty of parisian art.

after some time, you excuse yourself to find the restroom. as you leave, keeho calls after you, “don’t get lost again!”

“i won’t!” you call back with a laugh, shaking your head.

once you step out of the restroom, you turn a corner and nearly bump into someone again.

“oh—sorry!” you start, looking up. and there he is.

the boy from earlier.

“you again,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“yeah, me again,” you reply, feeling your face heat up.

“i guess we’re just destined to keep running into each other,” he jokes, his tone light and teasing.

you laugh softly. “seems like it. i never got your name earlier.”

“jake,” he says, extending his hand. “and you?”

“y/n,” you say, shaking his hand. his grip is gentle but firm, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“nice to officially meet you, y/n,” jake says, his smile widening.

the two of you start chatting, the conversation flowing easily. he tells you he’s here with his own group, visiting from another school all the way from australia, and you share a little about your own trip. his voice is calm and steady, and his subtle humor keeps making you giggle.

at one point, he gestures toward a nearby painting. “what do you think of this one? please don’t say the artist spilled paint everywhere.”

you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “no, no, that’s keeho’s specialty. i actually think it’s kind of beautiful, in a chaotic way.”

“good answer,” jake says, grinning.

before you know it, the sound of footsteps and familiar voices echo down the hall. “y/n! where are you?” keeho calls, his voice unmistakable.

you glance in the direction of the sound, then back at jake, your smile faltering slightly. “that’s my friends. i should go.”

jake nods, his expression soft. “of course. it was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“you too, jake,” you say, stepping away reluctantly. as you walk toward your friends, you can’t help but glance back once. jake is still standing there, giving you a small wave.

you rejoin keeho and hyunjin, who immediately start teasing you for taking so long. but as the three of you continue exploring the museum, you can’t stop thinking about jake. and though you don’t say it out loud, you quietly hope that fate will bring you together again.

it’s been a day since the museum, but your thoughts keep circling back to jake. his kind smile, the way he made you laugh, and that unmistakable australian accent—it’s all stuck in your head.

after dinner with your classmates at the hotel, the buzz of chatter feels overwhelming. you decide to step outside for some fresh air, hoping a quiet walk will help clear your mind.

the streets of paris are calmer at this hour, bathed in a soft, golden glow from the streetlights. a small park just down the road catches your eye, and you wander toward it, settling onto a bench beneath a tree.

you sit there for a while, letting your thoughts drift. the cool breeze carries the faint scent of flowers, and the distant hum of city life feels oddly soothing.

suddenly, you feel someone sit down beside you. you glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

it’s him.

jake.

the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

he notices your surprise and gives you that same warm smile. “hey,” he says casually. “fancy seeing you here.”

you blink, struggling to process the coincidence. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he says with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bench. “i was out for a walk, saw this park, and thought i’d sit for a bit. didn’t expect to run into you again.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “paris must be smaller than we think.”

“or fate has a funny way of working,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes sincere.

the conversation flows naturally from there. he asks about your class trip, and you tell him about your visit to the museum and all the places your group plans to see next. he shares stories about his own class, laughing about his friends’ antics and the moments that make the trip memorable.

“you’re telling me someone actually fell asleep in front of the mona lisa?” you ask, barely holding back laughter.

“yup. full-on snoring,” jake replies, grinning. “the security guard didn’t know whether to wake him or leave him there.”

the two of you laugh together, the sound blending into the quiet of the park.

after a while, jake stands up. “wait here,” he says, his tone playful but mysterious.

“where are you going?” you ask, watching him walk toward a nearby food stand.

“you’ll see,” he calls back over his shoulder.

a few minutes later, he returns, holding two neatly wrapped chocolate crepes. he hands one to you with a grin. “figured this would make the moment even better.”

you take it, smiling at his thoughtfulness. “thanks, jake. this is perfect.”

as you both sit there, enjoying the crepes and chatting under the parisian sky, you can’t help but feel like this moment is something straight out of a dream.

the days in paris pass like a blur, filled with sightseeing, laughter, and the magic of simply being in the city. but the most unexpected highlight of your trip that osn’t on the schedule—is jake.

you can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you keep running into him. these little moments have become the thing you secretly look forward to the most.

────୨ৎ────

you’re standing at the counter of a small café, debating between ordering a croissant or a pain au chocolat. the decision feels monumental, and you’re entirely lost in thought when a voice interrupts you.

“go for the pain au chocolat,” jake says, appearing beside you with an easy smile.

you blink, startled at first, before breaking into a grin. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“getting breakfast,” he says, holding up a cup of coffee and a bag. “didn’t think i’d see you again so soon.”

“neither did i,” you reply, chuckling. “are you always this lucky, or is paris just this small?”

“maybe both,” he teases. “need help deciding?”

“i was leaning toward the croissant, but now i feel like i have to trust your judgment.”

“always trust the chocolate,” he says, nodding sagely.

you laugh and order the pain au chocolat. as you wait, the two of you chat, his humor making the simple café feel like the best spot in paris.

────୨ৎ────

a couple of days later, you’re wandering through a mall with keeho and hyunjin, trying to find souvenirs to take back home. keeho is busy debating between two scarves for his mom, and hyunjin is glued to his phone, looking up recommendations.

you drift toward a small kiosk filled with handmade trinkets, running your fingers over delicate keychains.

“don’t tell me you’re buying one of those cheesy eiffel tower keychains,” a familiar voice says behind you.

you spin around, your heart skipping a beat. “jake!”

he’s holding a bag of his own, filled with souvenirs. “fancy meeting you here.”

“again,” you add with a laugh.

keeho spots jake and gives you a knowing look, while hyunjin just raises an eyebrow before wandering off. you try to ignore them and focus on jake instead.

“what’s in the bag?” you ask, nodding toward his purchases.

“just some stuff for my family,” he says. “and maybe a keychain or two.”

you laugh. “i thought you were against cheesy keychains.”

“only when other people buy them,” he says, his grin mischievous.

────୨ৎ────

the park has become your little escape, a quiet place to think and reflect. you’re sitting on the same bench as before, lost in thought, when you hear footsteps approach.

“do you have a permanent spot here, or are you waiting for me?” jake’s voice breaks through your daydream.

you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you. “maybe both.”

“lucky me, then,” he says, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “so, what’s on your mind today?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. “just… thinking about how much i’ve enjoyed this trip. and how strange it’ll feel to leave.”

jake nods, his expression softening. “yeah, i get that. it’s been a lot, hasn’t it?”

“yeah,” you say quietly, and for a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

that evening. your teacher gathers the entire class in the lobby of the hotel to deliver the news.

“you’ve got two days left to enjoy paris before we head back home,” she says. “make sure you start packing your things and grab any last-minute souvenirs.”

the room fills with murmurs of excitement and relief. most of your classmates are thrilled to return to canada, and part of you is, too. but as you head back to your room, a bittersweet feeling settles in your chest.

two more days. that’s all the time you have left before you have to say goodbye to jake.

you don’t know why the thought stings so much, but it does. and now, more than ever, you hope for one more chance to see him.

────୨ৎ────

the second-to-last day in paris feels like a blur of excitement and nostalgia. you, keeho, and hyunjin make it a mission to visit as many places as possible, squeezing every last drop out of your remaining time in the city.

as the three of you step into the vintage store, you're greeted by the faint smell of aged leather and a mix of retro music playing softly in the background. the shop is packed with everything from old records to racks of vintage clothes and shelves lined with random knick-knacks.

“okay,” keeho announces, clapping his hands together. “this is the place to find hidden gems.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “hidden gems or overpriced junk?”

“you just don’t have the vision,” keeho shoots back, already digging through a rack of jackets.

you wander toward a glass display case near the counter, something catching your eye—a vintage digicam. it’s small, sleek, and looks like it’s been well cared for. you kneel to get a closer look, curiosity piqued.

“hey, what’d you find?” keeho asks, appearing beside you with a leopard-print scarf draped around his neck.

you point to the camera. “a digicam. looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

keeho leans in, inspecting it. “very cool. are you gonna get it?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know… do you think it still works?”

“only one way to find out,” hyunjin says, suddenly appearing on your other side. he gestures to the shop owner, a kind-looking older man, who unlocks the case and hands you the camera.

you examine it closely, turning it over in your hands. the lens looks clean, and the buttons feel intact.

“how much?” you ask the shop owner.

“twenty euros,” he replies with a smile.

keeho gasps dramatically. “a steal! you have to get it.”

“yeah, before someone else does,” hyunjin agrees, casually flipping through a rack of shirts.

you laugh at their enthusiasm and decide to go for it. “alright, fine. i’m buying it.”

as you hand over the cash, keeho strikes another pose with the scarf. “what do you think? parisian chic, or should i stick to my usual?”

“stick to your usual,” hyunjin says without looking up.

keeho sighs, draping the scarf back onto the rack. “you two have no appreciation for drama.”

you test out the digicam, snapping a quick photo of keeho mid-pout. the image pops up on the tiny screen, surprisingly crisp for something so old.

“perfect,” you say, showing him the photo.

keeho grins. “okay, maybe you do have an eye for the dramatic.”

hyunjin wanders over with an oversized sweater, holding it up against himself. “thoughts?”

keeho wrinkles his nose. “are you auditioning for a grandpa role?”

“i like it,” you say, defending hyunjin’s choice.

“thank you,” hyunjin replies, smugly tossing the sweater over his arm.

the three of you spend a bit longer in the shop, goofing around and trying on random hats, sunglasses, and jackets. you snap more photos with your new camera—keeho wearing an old captain’s hat, hyunjin attempting to look cool in aviator sunglasses, and a candid shot of the two of them laughing together.

by the time you leave, the bag with your new camera swings lightly at your side, and your heart feels full. the memory of this moment—just you and your friends being unapologetically yourselves—already feels like a keepsake all its own.

at a small crêperie, hyunjin’s crêpe is covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.

“how are you even holding that without it falling apart?” you ask, staring at the overloaded treat in wonder.

hyunjin shrugs. “skill,” he says simply before taking an enormous bite.

keeho watches in horror. “that’s going to end up all over your shirt, and i am not letting you borrow mine.”

“you sound like my mom,” hyunjin says through a mouthful of crêpe.

by the seine river, you take turns with the digicam, capturing moments that feel like they belong in a movie. keeho makes exaggerated poses on the bridge, while hyunjin tries (and fails) to look mysterious.

when it’s your turn to hold the camera, you take a candid shot of the two of them mid-laugh. it’s perfect—pure and genuine, a reminder of how much these moments mean to you.

“alright, photographer extraordinaire,” keeho says, pointing dramatically at the eiffel tower in the distance. “get my good side.”

“you don’t have one,” hyunjin jokes, earning a glare from keeho.

as the day winds down, you find yourself lingering outside the hotel while keeho and hyunjin head inside.

“we’ll be in the lobby if you need us,” keeho calls over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look.

once they’re gone, you make your way to the park. the same bench, the same tree, and this time, jake is already there, waiting.

he stands when he sees you, his smile soft but bright. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, walking up to him. “beat me here this time, huh?”

“had a feeling you’d come,” he says, shrugging.

you sit down beside him, the quiet of the park wrapping around you like a blanket.

“you’ve been busy,” jake comments. “i saw you earlier near the seine with your friends. looked like fun.”

“it was,” you say, smiling at the memory. “trying to cram everything into one day, you know? time feels so short now.”

jake’s expression shifts, just slightly, and you know he understands what you mean.

“speaking of time…” you begin, hesitating. “we’re leaving tomorrow. my class is flying back home.”

jake nods slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “i figured it was coming. my group leaves the day after.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

“do you think we’ll meet again?” you ask softly, not daring to look at him.

“i hope we do,” he replies, his voice quiet but firm.

the weight of his words lingers between you, saying everything that neither of you can.

you pull out your digicam, breaking the tension with a small smile. “can i take some pictures? you know, to remember this?”

jake’s face brightens slightly. “of course.”

you snap a few shots—some posed, some candid. jake laughing at something you said, jake looking off into the distance, and finally, one of the two of you together, taken with his help.

as the night deepens, you know it’s time to go. you stand, reluctantly. “i should get back before my friends come looking for me.”

jake nods but doesn’t move. instead, he reaches out, gently taking your wrist.

“wait.”

you turn, surprised, as he pulls something from his jacket pocket—a pair of silver rings, simple and elegant.

“for you,” he says softly, slipping the smaller one onto your right hand’s ring finger. the fit is perfect.

your heart races, words failing you as he looks at you, his gaze full of unspoken meaning. then, he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“goodbye, y/n,” he murmurs, stepping back.

it takes you a moment to find your voice. “goodbye, jake.”

as you walk back to the hotel, your mind replays the moment over and over, the cool metal of the ring on your finger grounding you in the surrealness of it all. that night, lying in bed, you can’t help but wonder if the universe will bring you and jake together again someday.

꒰ paris again, and again, and again, and again, and again ꒱

a tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you lift your head groggily. you blink, trying to focus on the person standing in front of you. it’s keeho, grinning mischievously, while hyunjin stands behind him, sipping his americano with a slightly amused expression.

“y/n, what are you doing?” keeho asks, leaning in and waving his hand in front of your face.

you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “i’m taking a break. i can’t even keep my eyes open for more than a minute.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “yeah, we can tell. you’re practically sleeping at your desk.” he leans against the back of your chair, his voice cool but teasing. “how about you stop pretending to study and actually join us for once?”

keeho’s grin widens as he jumps into the conversation. “we’re heading to a café to study, and you’re coming with us. you need a change of scenery.”

you groan, feeling your body resist the idea of leaving the comforting quiet of the library, but deep down, you know you’ve been at it for too long. a change of pace might be exactly what you need.

“come on, y/n,” keeho insists, his voice full of that playful energy you can’t ignore. “we’ll make it more fun. you can’t study like this. plus, you’ll probably get more done with us around.”

you hesitate for a moment, your mind torn between the need for a proper break and the looming pressure of your exams. still, you can’t deny how much you need a little distraction. “fine,” you sigh, finally giving in. “but if we end up just talking the entire time, i’m leaving.”

hyunjin chuckles, giving you a knowing look. “i think you’ll be okay. we’ll actually study this time. promise.”

keeho grabs your arm, pulling you up from your seat with a playful tug. “good, because you need us to keep you sane. now, let’s get out of here.”

as the three of you leave the library, you let out one last sigh, knowing that even though you might not get as much studying done as you hope, you could definitely use the company.

the café is warm and inviting, the soft hum of background chatter mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. it’s a stark contrast to the quiet, studious atmosphere of the library, and you find yourself breathing a little easier as you step inside.

you find a small corner table and set your laptop down, letting out a contented sigh as you settle in. keeho and hyunjin head to the counter to order, leaving you to fidget with your feet, trying to shake off the weight of the past few hours spent studying.

your eyes flicker to the window, watching people pass by as you idly tap your fingers against your coffee cup. eventually, you stop, catching sight of the ring on your right hand.

you pause, fingers tracing the smooth metal, your mind drifting back to paris. “it’s been three years since that time in paris,” you think to yourself, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. the memory feels distant now, like a dream you’re not quite sure was real.

you wonder if jake still remembers you, if he thinks about you at all. you’d been so wrapped up in the magic of those moments, so caught up in the fleeting connection between the two of you, that you’d completely forgotten to exchange socials, to keep in touch.

a soft laugh escapes you, tinged with frustration. you can still picture your past self—so carefree, so caught up in the magic of the moment, never once thinking about the things you should have done. and now, years later, it stings.

the photos you took back then are all you have left—memories frozen in time, but still, you find yourself wishing you had more. a way to bridge the gap between then and now, something more than a ring on your finger that’s become a quiet reminder of what you left behind.

a soft laugh from keeho breaks you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him and hyunjin walking toward the table, their arms full of coffee cups and pastries. keeho places your cup down in front of you, his expression softening when he notices the faraway look in your eyes.

“you okay?” he asks, settling into his chair across from you.

you smile faintly. “yeah, just… thinking about paris.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. he simply places a croissant in front of you and nods. “we’ll make it through these finals. paris will still be there when you’re done.”

you nod, but the bittersweet smile remains on your face, the question still lingering in the back of your mind. will you ever see jake again?

you manage to get some work done, but there’s plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter between you guys. hyunjin and keeho constantly bicker over the most ridiculous things—whether iced coffee is better than hot coffee, or if studying with background music is productive.

“you’re seriously telling me you don’t like the classics?” keeho says, shaking his head dramatically. “what kind of music do you even listen to, hyunjin?”

“i listen to music that doesn’t make my brain want to shut down,” hyunjin replies with a smirk, taking a sip from his americano. “but hey, if you need classical music to study, you do you.”

you laugh at their back-and-forth, shaking your head at their silly rivalry. the sound of their bickering is strangely comforting, distracting you from the pressure building up inside your mind. you feel a little lighter, even if it’s just for a moment.

after a while, you excuse yourself and head to the bathroom inside the café, needing a quick break from the endless cycle of notes and coffee. the place is busy, but the hum of quiet conversations and the scent of freshly brewed coffee make it feel comforting.

you take your time, refreshing yourself and letting your thoughts wander for a few moments. when you finally finish and head back out, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, still lost in your thoughts.

and then—bam.

you collide with someone, the force making you stumble slightly. your reflexes kick in, and you immediately start bowing in apology, your words rushing out in a flurry of embarrassment.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean—”

but before you can finish, you hear a familiar voice, soft and warm, with that unmistakable australian accent.

“y/n?”

you freeze, and the world seems to stop for a moment. you slowly lift your head, and there, standing in front of you, is none other than jake. in the flesh.

for a split second, all your words get caught in your throat. your heart races, and your brain scrambles to process the unexpected reunion. this can’t be real. is this a dream?

jake’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at you with concern, his voice softening. “are you okay?” he asks, stepping a little closer to you, clearly worried about your sudden silence.

you blink, feeling your heart thumping louder in your chest as you try to find your words, but they’re nowhere to be found. you stand there, staring at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

he leans in slightly, just enough to make sure you’re okay, his face showing that familiar concern. “y/n?” he gently says your name, and your body snaps back to reality.

“i—uh… sorry, i just—didn’t expect to see you.” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing your face. "i thought… i thought i was imagining things."

jake chuckles softly, his expression softening with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “i didn’t expect to run into you here either.” his tone is light, playful, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes the air feel a little thicker.

you both stand there for a moment, awkward silence hanging between you. the familiarity of this moment feels surreal, but there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of him.

“so, uh,” you start, finally finding your voice, “what are you doing here? i didn’t expect to run into you… again.”

jake’s lips curl into that familiar, soft smile. he shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a glint in his eyes, something unspoken. “guess it’s just fate.” he says, his tone playful but there’s a layer of sincerity underneath it, one you can’t quite ignore.

you chuckle lightly, but the tension between you both is palpable now, thickening the air around you. there’s an undeniable pull between you, something that neither of you have fully acknowledged, but it’s there, lingering in the space between your words. you feel the heat of his gaze, and the sudden awareness of how close you both are makes your heart beat just a little faster.

“so… how’ve you been?” you ask, needing to break the moment but also curious, wanting to know everything about him since that last time you saw him.

jake rubs the back of his neck with a small, shy smile, a gesture you remember well. “i’ve been good… just been busy, you know. but i’ve been thinking about our time in paris a lot.” his voice is casual, but his eyes hold something deeper, a hint of vulnerability that you weren’t expecting.

you nod, understanding exactly what he means. you’ve been thinking about paris too. every memory feels like a treasure, something you’ve carefully tucked away, not wanting to forget any part of it. you wish you had more time to ask him about the things he’s been up to, to know if he’s felt the same pull that you have, the connection that neither of you can explain.

you glance down at your hand absentmindedly, and that’s when you see it—the ring he gave you in the park, so simple yet so meaningful. the silver band glints in the soft café lighting, and your heart does a little flip.

jake notices too, his gaze dropping to your hand. his smile softens, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. there’s a quiet understanding between you two that you don’t need to speak aloud.

“i see you’re still wearing it,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost tender.

you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away. you feel like you’re back in paris, standing in that park, with everything still ahead of you, full of hope and possibility.

“i didn’t want to take it off,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes locked on yours. then, without warning, he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand, and he gently presses a kiss to your right hand, right where the ring rests. the simple gesture feels like it speaks volumes, and you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you.

“i’m glad,” he says softly, his voice just above a murmur. “i’m glad you kept it.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the world feels like it’s holding its breath. the space between you feels charged, but neither of you is in a rush to break the silence. it’s as if this moment, this small, quiet exchange, is enough.

you blink, still a little stunned by the gesture, your heart racing, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you can’t help but feel the warmth in your chest, the way his simple action makes you feel seen, valued, even though you never really said all the things you wanted to say.

when you finally speak, your voice is soft but steady. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”

jake takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “i didn’t either, but i’m glad i did.”

enha perm taglist. @dazzlingjaeyun @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone

©levandright

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre & warnings: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst; blood/injury mentions (but like, alien blood, if that makes a difference?), a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places, a couple crude jokes about alien stuff iykwim (reader’s friends r kind of the worst), this fic is just a rlly sweet soulmate au i swear idk why these tags look horrendous 😭 ⇢ extra info: released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) BUT both parts are out RIGHT NOW ⇢ author’s note: rahhh this one has ALSO been a wip for like over a year and is finally finished!!! this is technically my first sci-fi piece bc i started it before frankenstein complex, but i finished fc wayyy before this one. anyway i loveee my alien!woo and i hope y’all do too ⇢ part two

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of Jungwoo’s words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“Here, Y/N,” Johnny grinned at you as he pushed another seltzer into your hand. “You’re a bit too sober, kid.”

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed back, popping open the tab one-handed and taking your first swig.

All of your friends were gathered around a firepit on the beach, relaxing and celebrating another friend’s birthday—Taeyong. Said birthday boy, a notorious lightweight, was already pink-cheeked and giggly as he chatted with some of the others. Someone had apparently given Doyoung access to the Spotify playlist for the night, as a ballad suddenly came over the Bluetooth speakers that had previously been playing upbeat tunes. A chorus of groans and jeers rose up around the fire from the other eight of you, while Doyoung loudly and passionately tried to defend himself.

“Give me the phone,” Johnny waved for Doyoung to hand over Jaehyun’s phone—the one connected to the speaker.

Doyoung clutched it protectively to his chest. “No! You guys haven’t let me play any of my songs tonight!”

“Because they either make us cry or put us to sleep,” Yuta scoffed, lunging for the device, but the other man jerked it out of his reach.

“If you two break my fucking phone, you’re buying me a new one and splitting the cost,” Jaehyun warned from where he was sat on the sand next to your feet, lazily leaning his head against your knee.

“Seriously, Doyoung, give him the phone,” Mark insisted.

Doyoung reluctantly handed the phone to Yuta, who passed it along to you, who firmly planted it in Johnny’s waiting palm. “None of you have any taste—”

“I thought it was nice, D—” Taeyong was cut off by a hiccup as he went to pat your friend’s head reassuringly. “It was a nice song, Doyoung…”

“Thanks, Yonggie,” Doyoung rolled his eyes, but didn’t shove him off as Taeyong drunkenly wrapped his limbs around him in what you were sure was supposed to be a comforting hug.

As Johnny went to put on more party-appropriate music and you took another sip of your seltzer, you looked up to the sky over the water. There weren’t as many stars as you would’ve liked, and it was a new moon, so there was no silvery light to come from there either. But it was still a nice night, the air was cool, the fire warm, you were the only ones on this stretch of beach this late at night and had enough alcohol to feed a medium-sized frat.

Then, one star started glowing even brighter than the others, and you realized it was moving across the sky. “Look, guys! A shooting star.”

“Ooh, everybody make a wish!” Donghyuck chirped.

Feeling a bit silly, you closed your eyes and made your wish in your mind, then opened them again to see the shooting star getting bigger, as if it was heading towards you all.

“Hey, are shooting stars supposed to do that?” You asked no one in particular.

“I… don’t think so,” Yuta squinted at it suspiciously.

“Should we like… move?” Mark suggested hesitantly.

“They’re just meteors being burned up in the atmosphere,” Jaehyun shrugged. “Most don’t ever reach Earth.”

Except it was very much getting closer and closer, hurtling even faster through the air than before.

“But some do!” Jaehyun added, rushing to his feet. “I think we should go.”

As everybody started scrambling to pack their things, the meteor was making its final approach, and you could hear the sound of it splitting the air as it took a sudden nosedive towards shore. It finally struck with a cacophony of snapping palm trees and thunderous boom of its impact with the ground. It had thankfully missed all of you, but you could see smoke start rising out of the thick foliage where it did land. You all looked around at each other, mirrored faces of shock.

“We survived,” Donghyuck breathed out, patting his front as if he didn’t believe it. His blanket was sloppily thrown over one of his shoulders as he had one hand on the cooler.

“Dude, you thought we were all going to die, and your first instinct was to save the drinks?” Mark pointed out in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘Where’s my phone?’” Your other friend retorted back. “Going to lecture me on the sanctity of human life when you were about to lose it all for your iPhone?”

As they kept squabbling, you tentatively stepped over the back of your log, towards the trees.

“Y/N?” Johnny said your name questioningly.

“Don’t you guys want to go see it?” You knocked back the rest of your seltzer. “A real-life meteor. Come on, we can all get a piece. It’ll be like, the coolest birthday party souvenir ever.”

Doyoung and Taeyong exchanged uneasy glances. Doyoung spoke up, “I don’t know, that thing was huge…”

“What? You think it was a spaceship or something?” You snickered at the idea, pulling out your phone to turn the flashlight on. “Come on, anybody who’s not a wimp. We’ll bring back enough pieces for the wimps.”

Yuta, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Donghyuck turned out to be the only ones who agreed to come with you. You led the way into the trees, following the slowly thinning smoke trail and path of destroyed palms. The impact site wasn’t very far, and when you first caught a glimpse of the hulking size of its silhouette, you were so glad it had missed. A hundred meters or so over, and all of you would have been crushed by a giant space rock, which is certainly one thing to put on your headstone. Except, as all of your individual flashlight beams shone over it, and you got to see it piece by piece, you realized it was not a meteor. It was all smooth metal, matte chrome in varying colors. A vessel of some kind. From space. A spaceship.

“Holy shit…” You breathed out.

“Oh, we should get the fuck out of here,” Jaehyun said lowly.

“Yeah, no way should first contact be made with our stupid, drunk asses,” Yuta agreed, starting to back up.

“Y/N,” Johnny grabbed your arm to try to pull you back as well, but you stood rooted to the ground. “Y/N, seriously, this is not the rabbit hole to jump down.”

“Maybe she’s figured we’ve gotten plenty of practice with aliens with Mark,” Donghyuck snickered.

You kept staring at the ship, listening to the metal creak and groan. Except those groans weren’t all metallic.

“I think someone’s in there!” You exclaimed, taking off towards it.

Johnny swore as your arm slipped from his grip, and you heard two pairs of footfalls chasing after you. You’d just managed to get a hand and a foot on the ship before a strong pair of arms grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of it.

“Yuta, grab her hands before she claws me!” Johnny yelled from behind you.

As Yuta went to do that, you haphazardly threw out your feet that were now fully off the ground as Johnny lifted you up. You impacted with something on Yuta, who let out a long line of expletives, his hands dropping to grab something low on his own body. You blindly reached back for Johnny, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand and yanking hard, while the other reached under his arm to pinch a pressure point.

“Fuck!” He dropped you. “Yuta! You were supposed to—”

“She kicked me in the balls, man!” Yuta groaned back.

Knowing that you didn’t have long, you raced up the side of the ship. Banging on every panel that you passed by, you yelled out, “Hello? Somebody in there? Are you okay? Hello?”

You finally got to the top-ish of the ship, and one of the panels there felt different than the others. Almost like glass. Pounding your fist against the side of that, hoping it was the cockpit or something, you shouted into it, “Are you okay in there?”

There was another groan that echoed from inside, and it definitely sounded like a person this time. Searching for some kind of emergency release from the outside, you felt around the edge of the whole glass panel. There was no release, but you found a part of the panel that it connected to on the outer hull that had a sizeable dent, big enough for you to get your hand under. Biting your phone in between your teeth to point the flashlight at the dent, you saw that it had exposed an inner latch of some kind.

The sounds of another body climbing up the ship came to your ears, and you whipped around to look at Johnny, already holding your hands up in a defensive fighting position. You took your phone from your mouth just to threaten, “I will bite.”

“I know. Let’s just get this over with before this thing explodes or something, okay?” He held his own hands up in surrender. When you’d relaxed from your fighting stance, he came over to squat down next to you. “So, what are you thinking, kid? We need to bust that?”

“I think?”

“Alright, give me a second.” He hopped back down.

There was another low sound of pain from inside, and you bent closer to the gap as you addressed them, “Just hang in there! My friends and I are going to get you out, okay? Really soon!”

Johnny clambered back up, a large rock now in his hand. You moved out of the way for him to swing the more angled edge of the rock against the latching mechanism. After several swings, you heard a crack of metal, then he was tossing the stone aside. “Jae!” Johnny called out, your other friend joining you two a few seconds later. They each grabbed a side of the glass panel, pushing and pulling it away from the hull.

“Guys?” Donghyuck’s voice suddenly floated up to you, but from the rear of the ship. “I think you should hurry up!”

“No fucking shit!” Jaehyun yelled back, straining as him and Johnny continued battling with the ship.

“I mean, I’m not a spaceship engineer or anything, but I don’t think any of this should be on fire!”

“God dammit!” Johnny groaned. “Yuta!”

“Yep! Recovered! Coming up!” Yuta joined the fray as well, and finally, you heard the last bit of metal holding the panel down snap and give way.

They all fell down as the glass dome now rose on its own, along with a hiss of air pressure. There were dozens of lights and screens inside, all flashing red, lighting up the figure of a man on one of the two seats there. His head was lolled back, arms hanging by his sides.

“Christ, there is someone in there,” Johnny exhaled in shock.

“A fuckin’ alien,” Yuta mimicked the sign of the cross over himself.

“Wrong way, dumbass,” you scoffed, moving along the rim to get closer to the man inside. “You’re not supposed to start on your shoulders.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realize I was in the presence of the Pope herself.”

You shot him another glare as you kneeled down to hook your elbows under the stranger’s arms. “Anybody going to help me?”

“The fire’s getting bigger!” Donghyuck yelled, fear pitching up his voice.

The other guys grabbed the man’s arms as well, helping you yank him up and out. He was all long, lanky limbs and dead weight, which your friends complained about to varying degrees of intensity. With a final tug, you pulled him out to the hull with you, his body flopping back onto you.

“Seriously! I can’t read alien, but I think it’s spreading to the fuel tank or something!” Your friend on the ground shouted in a panic, running around to the side where you were. “Get off there!”

Just then, the spaceman’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with concern, his lips parting for a moment.

“Sorry, introductions later, your ship’s about to explode!” You said, jerking him over the side with you.

Donghyuck half-caught the two of you as you slid down the smooth exterior. Really, he just broke your landing a bit, the two of you still crashing into him at far too high of a speed to be painless, all your limbs smacking each other. The man from the ship made another groan of pain, as you and Donghyuck swore up a storm at your bitten tongues, clocked elbows, and cracked heads. The other three jumped down after you, Johnny and Jaehyun taking the stranger from your arms like they were carrying their drunk friend home from the bar. His feet dragged on the ground between them as the six of you hurried away from the ship. As you came crashing through the foliage again back to your campsite, your other friends all got to their feet to greet you.

“Took long enough!” Mark complained. “Alright, where’s our—Holy shit!”

“You found some guy?” Doyoung asked, pointing to the stranger. “Why does nothing ever go normal and fine when we let Yuta, Y/N, and Donghyuck go off together?”

Before any of you could explain, there was a loud boom from behind you, and you whipped around to see bright, glowing, molten sludge being shot into the air where you just had been. Fire lit up the trees, the night no longer feeling so cold suddenly.

“What was that?!” Taeyong rushed to your side, clinging onto you tightly.

“Spaceship,” Yuta pointed at the fireball. He then pointed at the stranger, “Alien.”

“Seriously?!” Mark’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Like, a real UFO? What did it look like?”

“I was too busy fearing for our lives to take pictures, sorry, Mark.” Donghyuck leaned his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Doyoung spoke up then, concerned look focused on the man from the ship. “Uh, I think your alien’s dead.”

The spaceman was entirely slack in Johnny and Jaehyun’s grip, head hanging forward as dark droplets fell from his mouth onto the sand. You rushed over, instinctually putting two fingers to the side of his neck, where you guessed a jugular would be if he had one. Please, please, please let him have a heart, and let it be beating. He felt warm, at least, and while you couldn’t find a pulse, you didn’t know if that really meant anything. Instead, you held your fingers under his nose, relieved when you could feel a slight, repetitive exhale of breath.

“He’s breathing!” You announced with relief. A drop of his blood fell onto your hand then, and as you jerked the limb back, not entirely sure what alien blood would do to you. The fleck caught the light of the bonfire and shone blue. A dark navy blue, so dark it almost appeared black at first.

“Definitely an alien…” Yuta crossed himself again.

“Stop that!” You hissed, grabbing a half-drank bottle of water to pour the contents over your hand, washing off the alien blood. “You’d burn up if you stepped foot in a church.”

“Should we take him to a hospital?” Doyoung asked.

“No!” You cried out immediately. “They’d dissect him or something.”

“Y/N, you’re not suggesting we keep him!” Johnny regarded with you wide, incredulous eyes.

“Like a pet alien?” Donghyuck added very helpfully.

“You’re a doctor!” You argued with Johnny.

“A vet! An animal doctor! I’m not even licensed to practice medicine on humans, I wouldn’t know where to start on an alien!”

“Exactly, you don’t need a license to practice on him, he’s not human!”

“Johnny, we all know you’re going to say yes,” Jaehyun grunted, readjusting his hold on the passed-out spaceman. “Come on man, he’s getting heavy.”

“Fine! Fine! I have my kit in my car,” Johnny relented with a big sigh.

“We can take him to my place,” you immediately offered.

The distant sounds of sirens caught your attention, and you all immediately rushed to shut down the campsite. Someone doused the firepit while the speaker was shut off, and the drinks, towels, and blankets were hastily packed up. You all made a run for the cars parked up on the side of the road, as the sirens got even louder. You climbed into Johnny’s backseat before he and Jaehyun pushed the stranger back there with you, then got into the front. The others loaded up into Doyoung’s van, and the two vehicles took off with roars of engines and squeals of tires. You pulled the man’s head up into your lap, wincing as you appraised the damage. His blue blood dripped from his mouth and a significant rip in his jacket on his side. He groaned in pain but didn’t stir otherwise. Aside from the blue blood, he looked human… hopefully Johnny would be able to do something.

At your building, Johnny and Jaehyun helped you drag the spaceman up to your apartment on the third floor, and you had them deposit him on your bed. Johnny brought his travel vet kit up from the car, and together, you managed to get the shiny silver jacket off of him. Underneath, he had a fairly plain white top, which was also torn and blood-soaked. Johnny snapped on a pair of gloves before he pushed the hem up to appraise the stranger’s side, where there was a huge gash in his flesh.

“Oh, Christ, okay,” Johnny sighed, inspecting the wound. “I guess I’ll disinfect and suture it up?”

“Just do it,” you mumbled, pressing a towel to the man’s sweat-sheened forehead.

“Jaehyun, mind assisting?”

“You do know the ‘Dr.’ I put in front of my name is just decorative, right? It’s in Poetry—”

“And now you can brag to all your colleagues that you’ve done real medicine like a real doctor,” Johnny snapped back. “Disinfectant, get it.”

With Jaehyun assisting him, Johnny made quick work of patching him up. Pressing the bandages down over the site so the adhesive would stick, Johnny then disposed of his navy-splattered gloves. He grabbed a stethoscope, putting the end up against the spaceman’s chest.

“I think he’s alive?” Johnny announced. “I don’t know. If he is, he doesn’t have a heart because I’m not getting anything.”

He shifted the placement, presumably to listen to his breathing, and an even more bewildered look overtook his features. Sliding the stethoscope over to the right side of the man’s chest, he sat there for a moment, just listening.

“It’s on the other side,” he breathed out. “His heart’s on the right side.”

“But he has a heartbeat?” You clarified.

“Yeah, he does. Faint, but it’s there. He’s breathing, too. A bit shallow, but otherwise normal. I think.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“I don’t think there’s anything else I can do until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“Right, thank you Johnny,” you smiled wearily your friend. “I’ll call you when he wakes.”

Jaehyun and Johnny looked at each other skeptically. Jaehyun spoke up, “You’re going to stay here alone with some rando we literally pulled out of a burning hunk of metal?”

“My couch only fits one person. So unless you two are offering to sleep on the floor to protect me or whatever?”

“Call us if anything happens,” Johnny sighed, packing up all of his supplies.

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

You heard the sound of your front door clicking shut as you stayed sitting on the edge of your mattress, wiping the spaceman’s face. He really did look human, two eyes that were now shut, lashes resting on his cheeks, a nose practically just like yours, with an elegant slope to the bridge, and a pair of plush, pouty lips. He let out a soft sigh, his head rolling over towards you. But then he went silent and still again. You finished cleaning up his face as best you could, then pulled the covers up over him. Readjusting his bangs that had been stuck together by the damp washcloth you’d used, you gave a final determined nod to nobody in particular before standing up. Grabbing a change of pajamas from your dresser, you got everything you’d need from in here for the night, then went to leave.

“Alright…” You stopped at the threshold of your bedroom, looking over the spaceman’s sleeping figure one last time. “Goodnight, I suppose.”

And with that, you turned the lights out, and quietly closed the door behind you. You were sure to leave it slightly ajar, though, just in case. After taking a much-needed shower and getting ready for bed in your bathroom, you headed out to the living room. You set up a few pillows and blankets into a comfy-enough makeshift bed, then tucked yourself in. Despite the exhaustion in your muscles, the excitement of the night hadn’t worn off yet, and you laid awake for another hour just staring at your bedroom door.

Waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your living room windows, you covered your eyes with a groan and rolled over to bury your face in the back cushions. The sound of your phone buzzing incessantly from the coffee table came, however, and with a guttural groan, you flopped back over to pick it up.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, not even checking the caller ID.

“Y/N?” It was Yuta on the other end.

“Who the fuck else would it be? You called me at whenever-the-fuck-in-the-morning.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Couch,” you corrected him, swinging your feet over as you sat up properly. “I slept on the couch.”

“Gave E.T. your bed? Such a kind hostess.”

The mention of your guest woke you up more. You got to your feet, shuffling towards the bedroom with a yawn. “Yeah, you know me, I’m a fuckin’ peach.”

“So how’s the…” Yuta dropped his voice to whisper into the phone, “Alien?”

The door hadn’t moved since last night, and you cautiously pushed it open to peer inside. You could see the stranger exactly where you had left him, laying on his back under your blankets, chest shallowly rising up and down. Pushing further into the room, you hesitated on whether to try to find a pulse again. You settled for trying once around his wrist, and if it didn’t work, then you’d just have to assume he was fine. Surprisingly, you found his pulse in one go, and it felt steady.

“Fine, I think,” you answered Yuta quietly, walking back over towards your door. “He’s breathing, he has a heartbeat. He’s just not… ambulatory.”

“Still passed out cold?”

“Yeah.”

“Imagine if he was in one of those comas that you don’t wake up from, and we just had to deal with this comatose alien.”

“Stop, you’re going to manifest that or something!” You hissed.

“Not manifesting, just joking.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Anyway, some of us went back to the beach this morning, because Mark really wanted to see the UFO—”

“Don’t touch anything!”

“We couldn’t. The whole place is locked down. Couldn’t even park on the shoulder, it was swarming with cops. They were still putting out the fire.”

“Do you think any of the ship survived?”

“I have no clue. Doyoung said he’d ask his dad about it.” Doyoung’s dad was the fire chief, making your participation in the conflagration last night even more dicey.

“Tell him to call me as soon as he finds out anything.”

“I think he was already planning on that, but I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good. Also, I’m sorry for kicking you in…” You trailed off as you turned around to see two big brown eyes staring at you from your bed. “I’ve got to go, Yuta. I’ll call you back.”

“What’s hap—” You hung up.

The spaceman was looking around the room warily, regarding you with clear suspicion.

“Hey…” You offered him a smile as you kept your tone of voice soothing and calm. “You’re alright. I’m not going to do anything to you. My name’s Y/N.”

He kept staring blankly at you, and you were starting to fear that he wouldn’t be able to understand you at all.

“You got injured, last night. On your side.”

He pulled up the hem of his shirt, looking at it himself. He tentatively touched the bandages, but didn’t rip them off. There was a small dot of dark blue that had soaked through.

“I’m going to call my friend, to look at it, okay?”

He nodded.

Quickly dialing Johnny’s number, you chewed on your thumbnail anxiously at how long it was taking him to pick up. Finally, the ringing stopped, and a confused groan came from the other end.

“Hey, Johnny,” you greeted him, relieved. Johnny made another inquisitive sound. “Yeah, he’s awake.”

You could heard Johnny make a few more noises of exertion, presumably sitting up in bed. After a yawn, sniffle, and cough (which he thankfully pointed his mic away from), he said real words. “Has he… said anything?” Your friend questioned. “Can you even understand each other?”

“No, he’s not exactly talking… Just sort of nodding. So I think he can understand me at least.”

“Alright—good Lord—I’ll be over in like, thirty.”

“That long?!”

“You woke me up! I need to brush my teeth and shit. Make that forty-five, I still reek of alcohol.”

“Fine. Hey, can you bring some clothes for him, too?”

“What?!”

“I don’t have anything that’ll fit him. You guys are about the same size. Or steal some of Jae’s, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I’m taking Jaehyun’s. I think they’re a bit closer in size.”

“You don’t want an alien to wear your clothes.”

“Excuse me for feeling weird about that! What if he bleeds on them? I’d have to burn them!”

“So you’re volunteering your roommate’s clothes instead.”

“Well—”

“Just get over here, John.”

“Will do. See you, kid.”

“See you.” You hung up. Turning back to the alien, you announced, “My friend will be here soon. He’s just going to look you over. Are you okay? Like, does anything hurt?”

He stared at you.

“Right, those were two different questions.” You shook your head at yourself. “Do you feel any pain? Anywhere?”

He indicated to the wound on his side.

“Makes sense, you got sliced open by something there. Anything else?”

He held his hands out, and you saw that his left wrist was slightly puffier and swollen than the other.

“Oh, looks like you… sprained your wrist?” You said tentatively. You had no clue how his joints worked or if they could even get sprained like yours, but that’s definitely what it looked like.

He nodded.

“Johnny should have something for that,” you assured him. After a few beats of silence, you tried introductions again. “I’m Y/N. I know I already said that, but uh, it’d be nice to know your name, too? I’m pretty sure you can understand me, since you’ve been answering my questions, mostly. So—”

“Did you capture me, then?” He finally spoke, his voice clear but uncertain.

“What? No,” you laughed, completely caught off-guard by the question. “You’re free to go anytime you want. Your ship crashed, and my friends and I found you. I just want to help, but if you want to go right now, I won’t stop you.”

“This is… not a human hospital?”

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled again. “It’s my bedroom. We uh, we weren’t sure if we should take you to a hospital or not. Didn’t want them taking x-rays of you and finding out you had two hearts or something.”

“Just the one.”

“Yes, and it’s on the right side of your chest, right?”

He stared at you with mild alarm.

“Johnny was listening to your heart last night. Had a difficult time finding it.” You tapped the left side of your chest, right above your own heart. “Ours is usually over here.”

He licked his lips, eyes flitting around before they landed on you again, and he finally said, “My name’s Jungwoo.”

“Jungwoo?” You echoed slowly, making sure you were pronouncing it correctly.

“Yes.”

“If you’re from space, why is your name… Korean?”

“It’s not. It can’t be pronounced by humans. You’re missing a flap.” He gestured to his throat. “I suppose that’s the closest approximation that it could get.”

“It?”

“My transcoder.” He picked up the pendant hanging around his neck, a simple rhombus of flat gold metal. “It’s a translation device. That’s why we can understand each other right now. Thankfully, it didn’t get busted in the crash. I don’t speak human.”

“We don’t all speak one language, you know? We have thousands.”

“Wait, really?”

“Does your whole planet speak one language? Speaking of, where are you from?”

“I’m from far outside this galaxy. I’m not sure telling you the name of my planet would be any help.”

“It’d be interesting.”

“Galaria.”

“So you’re… Galarian?”

“Galarii.”

“Ah, I was close. Never was good at conjugation in grammar class.”

“All Galarii speak the same language, to answer your question. We have some regional dialects, but all of us can understand each other. How does your planet hold conversations, come to agreements about policy or run the government at all?”

“We don’t have one government system for the whole planet, so usually we don’t need to. Everybody who lives near each other tend to speak the same language.”

His brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a slight frown. “Then you must all be so… separated.”

You sat down on the corner of your bed in front of him, hoping this was still a polite, conversational distance for Galarii. “I don’t think it’s so bad. People can always learn more than one language if they want, learn about other cultures.”

“How do people from those different cultures even understand each other, though? You seemed confused about my transcoder, I’m guessing you don’t have anything similar here.”

“Translators. People who learn more than one language and interpret between people who don’t speak the same language. Not to mention computer programs will usually get you the gist of something if you’re in a hurry or don’t have access to a more authentic source.”

“How many governments do you have, then? Two? Three?”

You burst into laughter at the idea. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… well, to spare you from any degree of human politics, let’s say there’s a debate about how many countries we even have, but people usually say about 200.”

“Two hundred?! How do you get anything done?”

“Very slowly,” you snickered, hiking a leg up onto the side of the bed to get comfier. “So, how does your transcoder work, exactly? Like, how is it getting in my brain? Because watching you talk, it looks like you’re saying the words I’m hearing, but you can’t be.”

“Low-level, short-range telepathic wave.”

“Telepathic?!”

“I’m not sure what word it’s picking to translate, but you seem very shocked.”

“For us, telepathy is magic. It’s a superpower, it’s not real.”

“I can assure you, this all has very sound science behind it. Though I’m more of a pilot than a neuroscientist, so I can’t really explain it...”

“Really good pilot, too. Spectacular landing,” you joked, crossing your fingers that Galarii understood sarcasm.

He seemed to, as he let out a cynical chuckle. “Not my finest work.”

“So what happened that made you crash in the first place?”

“Political assassination.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Attempted murder?” Jungwoo tried another phrase, looking down at his transcoder as if inspecting it for damage.

“Am I harboring a space fugitive right now?”

“No, I’m not on the run from anywhere. I was taking a joyride when suddenly the engines began failing. I presume it was meant to look like an accident. I’ll know more after I can inspect my ship.”

“Ooh, about that,” you winced.

“What?”

“Well, it exploded, for one.”

“Yes, that’s what I figured when you told me ‘your ship is about to explode’ and then I heard an explosion.”

“So you remember some of last night!” You pointed victoriously.

“Some,” he agreed mildly. “In a couple brief bouts of consciousness I had.”

“So, yeah, it exploded, and the explosion and resulting fire drew in a lot of attention. A couple of my friends drove by this morning and the whole place is swarmed with firemen and cops still.”

“I’ll just tell them it’s my ship.”

“No.”

“They should release it to the proper owner, what would the problem be?”

“You crashed here from space in a certifiable UFO. If you walked up and say that it’s yours, if they believe you, they’d probably ship you off for dissection, shoot you on the spot, or kill you then ship you off for dissection.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Sorry, we don’t really get a lot of alien visitors. Or any, that I’m aware of.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo sighed, looking down at his lap dejectedly.

“So we’ll have to sneak in at night.”

“What?”

“If you want to inspect your ship, we’ll have to sneak in after everybody leaves for the night. And, after they’ve put out the fires.”

“You’re suggesting breaking the law?”

“Do you have a problem with that? It’s just light trespassing, and onto a ship that’s yours anyway.”

“No, I don’t have a problem with that.” Jungwoo’s face finally cracked into a smile. “Just clarifying.”

“So… who are you?”

“I’ve told you my name and species.”

“I meant, who are you on your planet? To have somebody trying to assassinate you. Here, usually people that get assassinated are like, politicians, rulers, activists, sometimes celebrities. Ooh, I’ve got it! You’re a pop star or something!”

“No, I’m not a… musician.” The way he said the word made you think the transcoder must have had a hard time finding an equivalent word in his language.

“Actor?”

“I’m not a celebrity. Well, not how you’re suggesting, I believe.”

“Okay, because you’ve got the look.”

“Look? How am I looking at you?”

“No, I mean you’re really pretty.” You gestured vaguely to his face. “You’d fit right in on a red carpet here.”

“I think I will interpret that as a compliment.”

“Maybe,” you grinned and shrugged. “So? What are you? If you’re not a celebrity, why did someone try to kill you?”

“They weren’t trying to kill me.”

“Who were they trying to kill?”

“My brother, presumably,” he said as if this were the most obvious, natural thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound unperturbed by this.”

“Really, this is what I get for stealing his ship.”

“So you are a thief.”

“With permission.”

“Then it’s not stealing.”

“Just like you didn’t want to bore me with Earth politics, I won’t bore you with mine, but let’s say my brother’s very powerful and very controversial,” Jungwoo explained. “He asked that I take his ship and publicly leave the planet on it.”

“So everybody would think he left.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So he could get some paperwork done.”

“What exactly makes him so controversial?”

“None of his policies, really. But people don’t like some choices he’s made in his personal life.”

“Sounds familiar,” you mused, thinking of a few figures on Earth like that as well. “How long was your joyride supposed to take?”

“A few days.”

“Are Galaria days similar to Earth days?”

“I… am not sure.”

“Cool. So what’s going to happen if you don’t come back on time?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run away,” he admitted. “Though he will be pissed that I diverted from the plan.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you back without getting in too much trouble with him,” you offered him a reassuring smile.

“We?”

“I’m not an engineer or anything, but I’ll help you however I can. Even if it’s just holding the flashlight.”

Jungwoo regarded you not with suspicion, but more-so fascination, like he wanted to put you under a microscope. “I take it not all humans are this helpful.”

“I like to think we all want to do good, but it might look different for different people. And some of us haven’t practiced doing good since we were taught to share as kids.”

“Well, thank you, Y/N. I suppose if we’re going to be sneaking in at night, I will need somebody to hold the flashlight.”

“I’m your girl,” you beamed, right as your doorbell rang, accompanied by a solid knock. “That’ll be Johnny. Wait here.”

“Johnny!” You opened your door, head tilting curiously at the extra figures that accompanied him. “And Mark and Donghyuck. What are you guys doing here?”

“Well—” Mark started.

“We want to see the alien, duh,” Donghyuck pushed past you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s not a freakshow here for your entertainment.”

“Alright, Ms. High-and-Mighty, excuse us for having natural human curiosity,” Donghyuck scoffed, looked around your living room as if you were hiding him somewhere.

“Let Johnny look him over first, then I will ask Jungwoo if he wants to meet you.”

“Sweet!” “Yes!” They high-fived each other.

“Jungwoo?” Johnny repeated with a suspicious eyebrow raised. “His name’s not like ‘Gorgluk’ or something?”

“It could be, for all I know,” you admitted with a shrug. “According to him, we—humans—don’t have the right… throat flaps to say his actual name. That’s the closest approximation his translating device could make, apparently.”

“Right. Cool. Alien named Jungwoo. We going to meet his brother Steve next?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m coping.”

Leading Johnny back down the hall, you gently knocked on your bedroom door as you pushed it open. “Hey, Jungwoo, I’m back.”

Jungwoo was right where you’d left him, sitting up in your bed, hands folded over his lap patiently. You saw him stiffen slightly when his eyes moved from you to Johnny as the taller man followed you into the room.

“Jungwoo, this is my friend Johnny. Johnny, this is Jungwoo,” you quietly introduced them.

“Hey,” Johnny nodded to him casually.

“I told you Johnny was going to check you out, remember?”

Jungwoo nodded.

“Does he talk?” Your friend looked at you with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, he’s just shy, or something,” you muttered, walking over to the bedside with Johnny.

Johnny pulled out his stethoscope first, awkwardly listening to the right side of Jungwoo’s chest, then motioned for him to lean forward to listen to his lungs from the back. Once he’d taken the stethoscope out of his ears, Jungwoo spoke.

“You’re a doctor?” The spaceman asked, watching as Johnny opened his kit again to put the tool away.

“Vet.” Johnny answered bluntly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

“Vet?”

“Veterinarian. I am a doctor, but my patients are usually on four legs.”

Jungwoo looked up at you in bewilderment. “There are four-legged humans?”

“Animals. I treat animals.”

“Johnny’s really good,” you assured him. “He’s the one that stitched you up.”

“Speaking of—” Johnny gestured to his side. “You mind?”

Jungwoo wordlessly pulled his shirt up to allow Johnny to inspect the wound.

“I’m going to change the dressings,” the vet declared, beginning to peel the bandage off.

To your disbelief, the wound was half the size as before, and looked almost healed up. The amount of blood on the gauze indicated much more damage than you were seeing.

“What the shit?” Johnny swore under his breath.

“Jungwoo, how’s your wrist?” You asked with wide eyes.

He lifted his left hand up, bending and flexing it with no visible reaction. It was a typical size again. “From your reactions, I take it humans heal at much slower rates?”

“Uh, yeah,” you gulped, still staring at the wound on his side in awe. “It would take us days to heal as much as you have.”

“I-I don’t think I need to change the dressing,” Johnny said, his face completely betraying how weirded out he was by what he was looking at. “There’s no blood or any other… fluids coming out of it. It’s entirely scabbed over, nothing should be getting in there. I can put a band-aid on it so the scab doesn’t catch on any clothes, I guess?”

“Do you have any morphine?” Jungwoo requested.

“It can’t hurt that much, it just looks like you bumped a countertop too hard.”

“I think my rib is broken.”

“What?!”

You looked at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“My skin heals quicker than internal parts. It should be fine in a few days, but it does hurt quite a bit now.”

Johnny looked to you for any sort of cue, at the same time that you looked at him for the same. He presumably thought you knew more about aliens than him, and you were seeking his medical opinion.

“Can you have morphine?” Johnny asked him slowly. “Like, is it compatible with your biology, or whatever?”

“Very much. My body naturally produces some, but I’m afraid the concentration of hydrogen in your atmosphere is inadequate for this level of injury.” Jungwoo looked the two of you over with confusion. “Why are you so hesitant to give me it?”

“Well, it’s sort of… addictive,” you tried to explain. “Doctors tend to try other stuff before jumping for the opioids.”

“My body must process it differently. We’ve never seen opioid addiction on my planet.”

You and Johnny met eyes again before Johnny reached back into his kit. He pulled out a small bottle and syringe. As soon as he took the cap off the needle, Jungwoo’s eyes went wide. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“Inject you?” Johnny replied, bewildered. “Unless you were planning on drinking it?”

“You don’t?”

“No! And I’m not going to let you!” Johnny was clearly at his wits end. “Either I stick you, or you don’t get any.”

“Okay, guys,” you jumped in, uncomfortable with the rising tension. Able to realize when Johnny was at his limit, you turned to Jungwoo. “Will it harm you if you get injected with it instead of drinking it?”

“No, but I would prefer not to,” Jungwoo admitted.

“Alien with trypanophobia?” Johnny scoffed.

At the returned stiffness in Jungwoo’s muscles, you looked at him sympathetically. “Is that it, Jungwoo? You’re afraid of needles?”

“I’m not afraid of them, he has one and I’m not running from the room—”

“But you don’t like them being used on you.”

“Y/N, I have a job,” Johnny sighed, checking his watch. “I can’t do this song and dance with him all day.”

“Jungwoo, are you going to let him inject you? Like I said, doctors avoid giving opiates out, we’re not going to be able to get you any from anywhere else.”

“Y/N will hold your hand, will that help?” Your human friend offered tersely.

“Johnny, don’t patronize him.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo cut Johnny off right as he had opened his mouth to respond to you. “That… is an agreeable compromise.”

Johnny gestured at him while staring you down very pointedly. Not having the energy in you to go back and forth with either of them anymore, you sat down at the head of the bed by Jungwoo and offered your hand out to him. His skin was surprisingly warm as he laid his hand atop yours, and you curled your hand around it, then put your other one on top, giving him a gentle pat and small smile that you hoped looked reassuring.

Jungwoo didn’t look at Johnny as he went back to preparing the injection, instead keeping his eyes trained on you. “I… didn’t realize that humans are so cold.”

“Just me,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “Cold hands. You’re about as warm as other humans I’ve met. My friend Jae is like a human space heater. Hates when I put my cold toes on him during movie night.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth to reply, but his face suddenly scrunched up. Johnny must have put the needle in. The alien squinted one eye open as he continued whatever he had been going to say in the first place. “I don’t mind how cold you are.”

“Done,” Johnny declared, quite literally slapping a band-aid over where he had just injected. “And I’m going to work.”

“Taking the other two with you?” You asked hopefully.

“You promised them an alien.”

“I promised I would ask. They’re not entitled to see him.”

“Whatever, I’ve got to go.” Johnny packed everything up quickly. He gave your hair a quick ruffle. “Bye, kid.”

“Bye, Johnny.” You watched him head for the bedroom door.

“Thank you,” Jungwoo called out to him.

The vet gave a final nod to both of you before slipping back out. You heard a sudden swell of noise as the two younger boys accosted him.

“Who else is here?” Jungwoo asked you.

You bit your lip ruefully as you heard the front door open and close, but the voices of Mark and Donghyuck were still very much audible. “Two more of our friends, Donghyuck and Mark. They were at the beach last night, too, when we found you. They want to meet you, if that’s okay with you. I totally get it if you say no. I’ll be more than happy to kick them out.”

“No, that’s alright. I would like to meet them. They’re your friends, right?”

“I guess I did say that,” you sighed, letting go of his hand and standing up. “Okay, be back.”

Out in your living room, the two younger boys practically assaulted you in their excited states, clinging onto your arms desperately.

“Don’t throw us out! We’ll be so good!” Donghyuck pleaded.

“Johnny told us he talks and stuff?!” Mark was buzzing.

“Cool it,” you chastised them. “He said he wants to meet you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Fuck yeah!” They fistbumped.

“You two are so lame. Come on.” You stalked back over to your room. Jungwoo perked up when you came back in, regarding the two newcomers studiously.

“Jungwoo, this is Mark and Donghyuck,” you gestured to each in turn. “Guys, this is Jungwoo.”

“It’s nice to meet—” Mark’s polite greeting was cut off by Donghyuck.

“So are you from Mars? Jupiter?”

You slapped a hand over your face with a low groan. Jungwoo almost looked amused, thankfully. “No, I’m not from this Solar System. Or galaxy, for that matter.”

“How can you breathe our air?” Mark asked curiously.

“We have a similar composition on my home planet. Though there’s not as much free hydrogen here…”

“Oh!” You suddenly had an epiphany. “The hydrogen. Will water work? Uhm, dihydrogen monoxide?”

“Yes, that will be an apt replacement.”

“I’ll go get you a glass,” you patted his shoulder before hurrying from the room. The others were still talking as you filled up a cup of water, then walked back in with it. You held it out to Jungwoo. “Here.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“So what do you eat?” Donghyuck questioned. “Can you eat our food?”

“I quite like uhm, confections. Desserts.”

“Alien with a sweet tooth…”

“You all keep calling me that. You do realize that to me, you are the aliens?”

“Woah…” Mark breathed out. “You’re right.”

Jungwoo quickly chugged down the glass of water, and you took it back. “I’ll get you another,” you smiled down at him.

Donghyuck perked up, “Oh, Y/N, can I have a—”

“You know where the kitchen is,” you snorted, heading for the door. “I’m not your mom.”

When you returned and handed the cup to Jungwoo again, Mark eyed you with a pout and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re never this nice to us when we get hurt.”

“Yeah, you laughed in Yuta’s face when he broke his leg last year,” Donghyuck narrowed his eyes.

“Because he broke his leg trying to grind an ollie at the skate park at his big age,” you scoffed. “And then had to go into his grown-up job the next day. Tell me how that isn’t funny.”

They exchanged a glance before breaking out into snickers.

“Okay, that is pretty funny,” Donghyuck admitted.

“Exactly.” You glanced at the time on your phone. “Alright, I’m tired of human interaction, you two need to go.”

“But—” Mark gestured wildly to Jungwoo, who was calmly sipping his water.

“My apartment, my rules,” you clicked your tongue, shooing them towards the front door.

“Johnny brought us here, how are we going to get home?” Donghyuck tried to plead with you as you shoved them through your apartment.

“You have bus passes, don’t you?”

“Well yeah—”

“Then, bye!” You opened your door and pushed them out, slamming the door shut behind them. Turning back around, you noticed a stack of clothes on the arm of your couch, and recognized them as some of Jaehyun’s. You grabbed them and took them back with you into your bedroom.

“Ugh, finally,” you sighed, rolling out your neck. “Sorry about them.”

“They were… funny,” Jungwoo settled on an adjective.

You offered out the clothes to your guest. “Here, Johnny brought these for you. My shower is through there, too.” You gestured to your bathroom door. “And I can make something to eat while you freshen up. If you’re hungry. What do you eat? Other than sweet stuff? I don’t have any meat, but I can go get some if you need it—”

“We don’t eat meat, either,” he smiled up at you. “Galarii don’t.”

“Vegetarians?”

“Yes.”

“Well, easy for me, then.” You watched him as he swung his legs around. “You got it? You need any help?”

Jungwoo slowly got to his feet, and you winced as you watched him clutch at his side. Nevertheless, he stayed upright, and took a couple steps forward. “I’ll be alright.”

“Great. Uhm, let me just show you how the shower works and stuff, then I’ll leave you be.” You walked him into the bathroom, pushed back the shower curtain, pointing out the knobs and bottles to Jungwoo. “This one’s for cold water, this one’s for hot water. You have to turn them left to turn them on. Pull this thing up to turn the shower part on instead of the bath. This blue bottle is for shampoo, you do that one first, just on the roots of your hair. Purple one is conditioner, on your ends. Face wash, body wash. Yeah, I think that’s it.”

As you turned back to look at Jungwoo, you realized how close he was as he had leaned in to listen intently to you point out everything. Squinting, you looked closer at a faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose that you hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, I never realized you have freckles,” you commented, blinking a couple times to make sure you were seeing this right. “Or that they were… rainbow? No, just pink? And purple?”

“They’re not freckles.” He touched them as if he were wiping them away, but they didn’t budge. “They’re iridophores, patches of cells that reflect light differently. I believe the fluorescents in here are making them more visible than the dim lighting in the other room.”

“They’re so pretty!” You exclaimed, shifting in another direction so that they were even flashier at this angle, revealing some blue and green as well.

Jungwoo’s hand hovered uncertainly over his face. “You think so?”

“Yeah, of course! What? You don’t?”

“They’re… I don’t know, they’re nothing special on Galaria,” he admitted, dropping his hand to give you a full view of the iridophores. He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to show some of the top of his shoulder, where there were even more, then let it go. “I have them here too. Everyone does.”

“Well, we don’t have stuff like that here,” you informed him with an awestruck grin. “Anyway, I’ll let you shower, sorry. You’re not some specimen for me to gawk at.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind you being curious about me.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you gave him a nod and another smile before leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen.

By the time Jungwoo was done with his shower, you had made a couple hefty stacks of pancakes, cut up some fruit, and grabbed a jar of Nutella for good measure, remembering his comment about preferring sweets. You filled up two tall glasses of ice water before also making a cup of tea for yourself. You briefly contemplated running to the boba place around the corner, but it was exactly then that you heard the shower turn off, and thought better of it. Jungwoo emerged in a pair of Jaehyun’s jeans and a slouchy, grey crewneck sweater, looking startlingly human, except for the occasional glint of iridophores on his cheeks and nose. His hair was still a bit damp as he came over to curiously inspect the two plates you had placed on your kitchen counter.

“Pancakes and fruit. Grab a plate and sit wherever, I don’t have a table. I usually eat at the couch.” You gestured. Jungwoo followed your lead and sat in the corner of your couch as you plopped down in your armchair. You cracked open your jar of Nutella, offering it out to him.

“What is that?” He questioned, sniffing the air tentatively.

“Chocolate hazelnut spread,” you stuck a spoon in it. “It’s sweet. You’ll probably like it. Most people do.”

He put some on a small part of a pancake, and tried a bite, then immediately dove back in to slather the rest of his pancakes in it.

“Alien with a sweet tooth,” you chuckled to yourself, digging into your own breakfast.

“You don’t have to… stay with me,” Jungwoo told you between bites. “I remember you telling your friends that you were tired of human interaction. I believe that it’s a common human social nicety to entertain house guests, but you won’t offend me if you wish to be alone.”

“That’s… considerate,” you chuckled. “But the operative word there is human. You’re an alien, so I’m not tired of you yet, Jungwoo.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” you grinned at him, popping a piece of fruit in your mouth.

“May I ask… Why am I staying with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“From what Mark and Donghyuck were saying, it sounds like there were many of your friends there last night when my ship crashed. How did it happen that I ended up here with you?”

“Finders keepers, I guess,” you laughed. Jungwoo gave you a funny sort of look at that, which prompted you to further explain. “I’m the one who found your ship in the first place and wanted to look inside at all. I don’t know how much you remember, but I’m kind of the one who pulled you out. Some of the other guys helped me, don’t get me wrong, but if they had their way, you would’ve been left in there. So, I found you, you’re my responsibility. Finders keepers.”

“Ah, I see.”

Your phone buzzed then, and you saw that it was Doyoung calling. “Oh, that’s Doyoung, I’ve got to take this. Sorry, hold on.” Standing up, you didn’t go very far as you walked over to the living room window to look out over the city as you answered. “Hi, Doie, what’s up?”

“Y/N, hey. How’s your alien?” Your friend asked.

“Fine, all things considering.”

“He alive?”

“Alive, awake, eating, talking, the whole shebang.”

“Shit, really?!”

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, holding your phone mic-out towards Jungwoo, “Jungwoo, say hi to Doyoung?”

Jungwoo covered his mouth as he quickly chewed and swallowed, then called out, “Hello, Doyoung!”

You brought your phone back up to your ear just in time to hear your friend react. “Holy shit!”

“So what’d you find out from your dad? How much of the ship survived?”

“A lot,” he told you. “They’re calling it a hoax, and they’re not letting news reporters get footage. Apparently they don’t want to encourage any copycats. After putting out the fire, they haven’t let anybody on board. They’re just keeping it cordoned off until the police chief and my dad decide what to do with it. Right now it’s a crime scene while they investigate it as an arson case.”

“But the fire’s been put out, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know anything about how it’s being watched?”

“A couple cops at night, I think.” Doyoung’s voice was guarded. “You’re going to sneak the alien back there, aren’t you?”

“He has to get home somehow, Doyoung,” you insisted. “Unless you think we should steal a spaceship from somewhere else that’s fit for intergalactic travel?”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with the whole ‘get the alien back home’ idea,” he said defensively. “Just don’t get arrested while you’re at it, alright? Johnny would have a stroke.”

“Yeah, I know, he nearly had one last night and this morning playing alien doctor,” you sighed. “I don’t think he’d bail me and Jungwoo out of jail if it came to it.”

“Call Yuta for your one phone call if you need. He’s good for it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Or Taeyong, he probably wouldn’t hold it over my head.”

“Good point. Or, even better—don’t get arrested in the first place.”

“Plan A: Don’t get arrested. Plan B: Taeyong. Plan C: Yuta. Plan D: You. Plan E: Jaehyun, who would definitely bring Johnny with him.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Doyoung chuckled. “I’ll leave you and Spock to it then.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have all the right flaps, right?”

“Who told you? Donghyuck? Mark?”

“Johnny. He called on the way to work to ask if I knew anything about the ship.”

“Huh…”

“Anyway, I’ll leave you and Stitch be. Holler if you need something.”

“You’re hilarious. You’re fucking hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, hanging up. Plopping back down in your armchair, you relayed the pertinent parts of your conversation to Jungwoo. “According to Doyoung, a lot of your ship survived the explosion. They’ve put the fire out, but there will probably be a couple cops patrolling it at night, so we’ll have to be careful when we go check it out tonight. Until then, I guess we’ll just hang out. Sound good? How are you feeling? How’s your side? Do you need more bandages after showering? I can call Johnny up, probably swing by his office and get some more or see if he can come by on his lunch and take a look at you? Maybe bring some more morphine?”

“I don’t need any more bandages,” Jungwoo shook his hand, lifting the sweatshirt to allow you to see how he’s healed so far. There was still a considerable amount of bruising, but the skin had entirely mended itself, no evidence of a scab, only a dark, puffy scar.

“Does it still hurt?” You asked with a sympathetic grimace. “I know you said you take longer to heal internally than on the outside. I can probably convince him to bring some more morphine for you. I don’t know what your metabolism is like compared to ours, or even how much he gave you last time. I mean, are you in pain?”

“It is painful,” he admitted, dropping his shirt again. “But I don’t—I’ll be fine.”

“Jungwoo, if it hurts—”

“Not that bad.”

You felt a bit mean for this, but you reached out to poke his side, and he immediately let out a yelp, covering his wound and ducking away from you.

“What did you do that for?” He asked you, jaw dropped.

“You liar,” you scoffed, bringing your phone out. “I’m texting Johnny.”

“He will administer it the same way as last time, won’t he?” Jungwoo questioned quietly, stopping your typing.

You put your phone down. “Probably, yeah. He’s not… used to letting people drink that stuff.”

“Then I will be fine without it.”

“Even if I hold your hand again? You can’t do another one?” You asked. “I’ll talk to you, you can squeeze my hand like a stress ball—or we’ll get you a real stress ball, whatever you want.”

He was silent, and you let out a sigh.

“Jungwoo, I don’t like seeing you hurt, you know,” you shook your head, cutting off a piece of your pancakes with the side of your fork, lifting it to your mouth. “But it’s up to you, I’m not going to hold you down and make him stick you or anything.”

With a flash of iridophores, Jungwoo’s head turned, and his eyes were focused back on you, his hands wringing together. “I’ll do it.”

Your jaw stopped mid-bite. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes. If Johnny agrees. I get the impression he doesn’t like me very much…”

“No, no, he likes you just fine, I promise!” You reassured him, reaching forward to pat his knee. “I just stress him out, that’s all. I’ll text him right now, okay? We’ll get you feeling better in no time!”

“Can’t believe he’s making us come to him,” you grumbled, pushing your way through the sidewalks with Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders. “You literally have bruised ribs and fell from the fucking sky last night.”

“I don’t mind,” Jungwoo tried to be diplomatic, even as he held his side with his free hand. “He’s doing me a favor.”

“He’s being an asshole.” You tried to match Jungwoo’s slow, hobbling pace. “Making you come all the way across the city in pain. Risking you being out in public. Goddamn asshole.”

“I don’t mind,” your companion repeated, looking up past the visor of the baseball cap you’d put on him to conceal his glinting iridophore flecks as best as possible. “I haven’t seen much of Earth. Your sky is beautiful. Is it always blue?”

“During the day, yeah, usually. What color is Galaria’s?”

“A bright violet.” He was leaning more of his weight on you, and you stepped into the alcove of a shop door to rest for a moment. The crowd continued hurrying by you as you leaned against the wall and Jungwoo leaned against you.

“Purple sky?” You repeated, staring up at the crystalline blue expanse above you and trying to picture it.

“Yes, most of the time.”

“That sounds really gorgeous.”

“I suppose it is.”

You looked over at him curiously. “You don’t think so?”

“Well, I suppose I’m just so used to it… I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking back to the clear aqua sky above you. “I quite like your blue sky.”

“I think I’d like to see your purple sky someday,” you hummed thoughtfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, as long as you could bring me back,” you shrugged. “Always wanted to travel.”

Jungwoo blinked down at you, and you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Sorry, that probably sounded like I was asking to run away with you or something. And you’re like, in a bunch of pain,” you laughed at yourself. “I should stop blabbing and get you to the man with the morphine. You ready to keep going?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

At Johnny’s animal clinic, you had to stay in the waiting room while he finished up with a patient. After he handed the dog back to its owner, and dismissed the front desk attendee for their lunch break, he finally gestured the two of you back. You helped Jungwoo up from his seat, wrapping his arm back around you so you could slowly follow your friend into the back. Johnny held the door open for you all as he led the way into the exam room. You could tell the morphine had been wearing off faster and faster, even though Jungwoo hadn’t said anything. He had been favoring his side more and more, and vocalizing noises of pain more frequently as the day wore on.

“How is it?” Johnny was nice enough to ask as you helped Jungwoo half-sit and half-lean on the exam table. You’d seen some pretty big animals on this thing, you were pretty sure it could handle him.

“Fine,” Jungwoo hissed.

“He’s not bleeding on the outside anymore, but everything’s still pretty banged up internally,” you answered honestly, shooting Jungwoo a pointed look. “Do you think you could like x-ray him while we’re here? See if anything’s broken?”

Johnny stopped where he had been getting supplies from some drawers. “Would x-rays kill him?”

“I mean, you traveled through space, right? Isn’t there a bunch of radiation there?” You asked Jungwoo hopefully. “Johnny can take some pictures of you with x-rays, right?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Jungwoo nodded minutely.

And so Johnny moved around his portable x-ray machine to take a few images of Jungwoo’s side where the pain was most concentrated. You had to stand outside the room while it was being done, but as soon as Johnny gave you the thumbs-up, you rushed back in, helping Jungwoo sit back up. Johnny took the lead vest back off, leaving him in his white coat again as he went back over to the imaging machine.

“Okay, here we go,” Johnny muttered, clicking a few things on the computer to pull up the images. “Remember, I’m not a human doctor, and definitely not an alien doctor.”

“We know, Johnny,” you retorted.

The first image came up, and you yourself weren’t any kind of doctor, but that definitely didn’t look right. A dark line going right down what you assumed to be a rib, splitting it all the way through. “Yep, your rib’s broken,” Johnny declared, pointing to the severance.

Jungwoo’s brow furrowed with concern. “It shouldn’t—”

“Yeah, no shit. Remember, dude, you fell out of the sky twelve hours ago, I’m surprised you’re alive.”

“No, I should be more healed than that.”

“You said that the lack of hydrogen in the atmosphere was making it so your body couldn’t produce as much natural painkillers, remember? Maybe something is making you heal a bit slower, too,” you suggested reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, it’ll just be a little longer.”

“That’s probably it,” Johnny agreed. “Are you eating enough? I know Y/N only has that vegan crap at her house, you probably need a real meal—”

“His whole planet is vegetarian, you dick.” You flipped him off. “You’d probably kill him if you gave him a steak.”

“Alright, damn,” he held his hands up with a laugh. “Let me just shoot him up with morphine and you two can get out of here, huh? I’ll do a double dose from last time.”

“I need to be able to get him home, John,” you said frankly.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” you nodded, then looked to the alien. “Sound good Jungwoo? Twice as much as last time? So hopefully it’ll last a bit longer?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on Johnny as the human had gone back to getting the supplies for the injection. You grabbed his hand without prompting, flashing him a bright smile as you tried to come up with something to talk about to distract him. “So, how else are Earth and Galaria different?” You asked him. “The skies are different colors, we know that. What about the oceans? Do you guys have oceans?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Ours are blue, for the most part. Or, a blue-green.”

“We have—oh,” he wrinkled his nose, but didn’t look away from you. “Pink seas.”

“I think we have a pink sea too, somewhere!” You perked up. “I’d have to look it up, but I’m pretty sure somewhere has pink water. It might be a lake, actually, not a proper sea. Don’t quote me on it…”

Jungwoo smiled at that. “I won’t hold you to it, then.”

“What about like, glaciers? Do you have those? Really big floating chunks of ice in the ocean?”

“Galaria is mostly frozen tundra…”

“Damn, really?! How cold is it there? Wait, there’s like, no way we use anywhere near the same units of measurement for temperature. Your transcoder probably couldn’t help with that, huh?”

“No, we presumably don’t use the temperature scale.”

“All done,” Johnny announced, scooting his chair back and disposing of his needle and gloves. “I’ll take you two home now.”

“Thanks, Johnny.” You smiled up at him, helping Jungwoo up. “How are you feeling, Jungwoo?”

The Galarii took a couple slow blinks. “Mm… starting to feel better…”

“You said morphine doesn’t make you high, does it make you tired?” You questioned, following Johnny out towards the back where his car was parked in the alley.

“Not usually… but my body hasn’t been doing what it’s supposed to be doing the whole time I’ve been here…” he said slowly, narrowly missing hitting his head on the roof as you helped him into the backseat. You scooted in after him, encouraging him to lean against you after you’d buckled him up.

Johnny took off quickly through the streets, occasionally watching the two of you in the rearview mirror. Outside your apartment building, he helped you unload a half-awake Jungwoo, the alien rousing himself just enough to climb the stairs. Giving your friend a final thank-you and goodbye at the entrance to your apartment, you tugged Jungwoo back into your home, guiding him once again back to your bed.

“Come on, time for a nap,” you sighed, encouraging him to lay down. “You need to rest up, dude.”

“Y/N?” He murmured, grabbing your forearm as you went to walk away to leave him in peace.

“Yes?” You stopped, looking down at him attentively. “Do you need something, Jungwoo? Water? Food?”

“Will you just… sit with me? And talk to me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested. “I… find your company soothing.”

“Oh.” You shifted your weight uncertainly between your feet, but acquiesced nevertheless, scooting onto the corner of the mattress near his head. “Sure, Jungwoo. Here, I’ll look up those pink oceans I was talking about, see if I was right.”

And so you read some Wikipedia articles to Jungwoo about various pink lakes and beaches until his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evened out, and you were more than certain that he was asleep. But even after you were sure he was fast asleep, and you stopped reading the article aloud, you stayed right there, silently scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking from your screen over to his face. Because for some reason that you couldn’t put your finger on, you sort of found his presence calming, too.

When it seemed as though Jungwoo was stirring, you quickly got up from your spot and scurried from the room, feeling a bit weird about sitting and watching him sleep the whole time. You had a feeling that he wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want it to be a fact known to anybody but you that you had done that. Truly, you didn’t even want to really admit it to yourself, either. And so, when Jungwoo finally wandered out of your bedroom some hours later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found you tucked into the corner of your couch, in the middle of an episode of a TV show, as if you had been doing that the whole time.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you greeted him nonchalantly, pausing the episode. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mm, well,” his reply was punctuated by a yawn.

“And how are you feeling?”

“I’m still feeling the painkiller effect, but I am no longer tired.”

“So, do you think you’ll be up for checking out your ship tonight?” You checked the time on your phone. “We can probably eat dinner then head out after.”

“Yes, I would very much like to see it.”

“Cool, let’s do it.”

After eating another modest meal prepared by you, you and Jungwoo headed out. The streets weren’t as busy at night, and with Jungwoo moving fully of his own power again, the two of you were able to make your way through them much quicker. The intel you got from Doyoung was good, the entire expanse of beach was roped off with police tape, and one officer was stationed on either side of the shoreline. Because of how far the fire had spread through the trees, the officers were pretty far from where you remembered the ship being. Getting in and out would be the tricky part, but once you were in, you were certain they would be none the wiser that somebody was there.

Jungwoo followed you silently, and you finally found what you were looking for. The old public access to the beach. When you were little, everyone used to have to take a steep staircase that started right off the highway. After a particular heavy rainy season that brought rockslides from the mountain up above, it was deemed entirely unusable by the city, all markers for it taken away, left in disrepair, and a new, much safer one was made further down the road. There was a ‘CAUTION: ROCKSLIDES’ sign nearby, which is how you knew you were in the right place. The best part was that it was right in the middle of the thicket of trees, meaning that as long as you were quick, you should be able to drop right in undetected.

All boardwalks and rope that had been spared by rockslides and Mother Nature over the years were left untouched by the city government, and you were able to start the steep descent like normal. It was about a third of the way down that things started getting dicey, broken pieces of wood, large gaps that you had to step over, and several areas where you had to test the steadiness of rocks before putting your weight on it because there was no manmade material for you to step on at all. When you and Jungwoo got to the place where the path would’ve diverted to the beach instead of dropping you right into the trees, you bit your bottom lip and resisted cursing aloud. It was a steep drop from where you were. It was too dark for you to see where the ground was, but instinct and memory told you it was too steep for you to just jump down. Looking around desperately, you realized there was a much shallower incline further down the trail, but it was close to where one of the officers was patrolling. You were already too near him for your liking.

A distant voice humming got closer and closer, and you held your breath and held your position, keeping your eyes peeled in the direction of the noise for any sign of movement through the trees. You never did see the police officer, but eventually the humming got further away again, until you stopped hearing it, and you made a break for the shallow area, sliding down the mostly sandy, occasionally rocky hill on your butt. You heard the sounds of Jungwoo hurrying after you, but didn’t look behind you until you were sure you two were well concealed in the trees again. Glancing up at him, you saw his chest heaving, and motioned for him to keep quiet as you listened to the officer run back over towards the road end of his side.

The crackle of a walkie-talkie, then a distant voice. “Hey, I think I heard something. You hear anything?”

After a second, his buddy responded, his voice slightly garbled through the walkie-talkie speaker. “Yeah, you heard a rock fall down the mountain. Rockslide area. Been hearing them all night.”

“Damn, you’re right. Thanks.” And he was gone again.

You took off through the brush at a brisk pace, knowing that Jungwoo would be right behind you. The ship was easy to find, with the concentration of charred and blackened foliage getting greater and greater the closer you got to it. When you finally found it, the spaceship was mostly intact, which the size of the explosion from last night did not lead you to believe. Jungwoo let out a sigh of relief, and did a quick walk-around first. It was when you got to the tail that you saw why there had been such a huge fireball. Four huge canisters that must have housed something flammable were nothing more than metallic flowers now, the material burst open and curling over on itself from the force of the explosion.

“The reactors…” Jungwoo breathed out.

You chewed on your bottom lip, asking quietly, “Is it fixable?”

“I don’t want to say anything until I see the inside.”

You followed him around to the side, where he pressed a button that you had missed last night on account of it being entirely smooth and looking like nothing more than a random dot. A set of hand and foot rails emerged seamlessly from the surface of the hull for you to climb up with. Once the two of you were up at the cockpit, Jungwoo pressed another button up there, and the ladder seemed to melt back into the metal of the ship once again. The glass was still propped open, making it very easy for you to hop down into the ship. Whatever red flashing warning lights that were going off before had deactivated, leaving it in pitch black, and you immediately brought out your phone to turn the flashlight on.

“Ah, thank you,” Jungwoo said as you pointed it at wherever he looked.

“I told you, I’m your flashlight girl,” you grinned.

As he looked over many different panels and controls in the cockpit, you drank in every detail with fascination. While the button on the outside of the ship had functioned seemingly almost like a touchscreen, the ones in here looked analog at least, though you couldn’t figure out for the life of you what a single one was for. You kept your hands to yourself. Jungwoo finally pressed a button, and a screen lit up, one that quaintly reminded you of computers from the nineties in its size and resolution. As he navigated through the program, you watched with interest. He sat down in one of the two chairs, and indicated to the other one for you. You eagerly sat. It was remarkably comfy.

“You seem to be very close to Johnny,” he commented abruptly, spamming one button in particular with a bit of frustration.

“We’re all really close.” You nodded, and the program finally loaded the next screen. “But yeah, I guess John and I are a bit different. Our parents are all friends, so we’ve been friends since we were little. He’s had to deal with my bullshit for our whole lives. We even call each other’s parents Aunt and Uncle, that kind of thing.”

“He is… similar to your cousin?”

“Sort of? I don’t know, he was kind of like a built-in older brother.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you reminisced in childhood memories. “People in our neighborhood and at school did actually think we were cousins. He’s a few years older than me, and I was a bit of a troublemaker. I remember he’d pull me away from getting into fights with kids way bigger than me, or when I’d talk back to teachers, the head teacher always brought the both of us in for a scolding. Something about how he should be keeping his younger cousin in check, too. Poor guy. He took it like a champ. We came to an agreement that he wouldn’t tell my parents if I stopped getting in trouble so much.”

“You’re not so unruly anymore.”

“Oh, I’ve still got a bit of a rebellious streak,” you chuckled. “Johnny always says I’m going to make him go grey. I mean, you and I are literally on a crime scene right now. And I pulled an alien out of a spaceship that was about to explode last night.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Jungwoo trailed off, brow furrowing as what looked like a schematic of some sort came up on the screen. “Hm.”

“Something wrong?”

“Mixed results.”

“What?”

“There are some bad things and some good things.”

“Tell me the bad stuff first.”

“What?”

“When somebody says ‘I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,’ they’re supposed to let you pick if you want to hear the good news or the bad news first,” you explained the small colloquialism. “I want the bad news first, so we can end on the good stuff.”

“I see…” he hummed, clicking a few more things. “The bad news is… I will need to reconstruct the reactors and make other minor repairs.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I do not know Earth measurements of time.”

“You’ve been on Earth for one day now. How many of those do you think it’ll take?”

He took a moment to think about this, then eventually answered, “Twenty to thirty? Maybe more, maybe less, I’m unsure, I was asleep for much of the ‘day’ that I experienced.”

You nodded. “Okay. And the good news?”

“There was no serious structural damage to the hull or critical systems of the ship. Once I reconstruct the reactors and make those repairs, I will be able to leave.”

“That’s great news, Jungwoo!” You beamed, holding up a hand for him. He uncertainly put his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, eyes flicking around the ship nervously. You burst into laughter. “I wasn’t trying to hold your hand again, sorry. It’s a high-five. It’s celebratory, friendly.”

“Ah. My apologies. How do you do that, then?” He took his hand back from yours.

“I put my hand up for you, and you hit your palm to mine pretty hard. You’re trying to make a—” you clapped your own two hands together “—sound.”

“I think I understand.”

“Okay, take two.” You held your hand up, and he gingerly tapped his hand to yours. Once again, you couldn’t help but giggle fondly. “Yeah, pretty much. A for effort,” you declared. “So, anything else you need to do right now? Or is that it for tonight?”

“I wish I could begin working right now, however I will need lots of materials for the reactors.”

“Let’s get out of here, we can talk about what kind of stuff you need and where to get it on the way home.”

“So is your brother older or younger?” You asked as you and Jungwoo took a more leisurely pace back to your apartment.

“I’m sorry?” Jungwoo tilted his head, as if he hadn’t heard you, which was weird, considering he was already looking at you when you turned to ask him that.

“Your brother whose ship you took. Is he older than you or younger?”

“I… don’t know.” He frowned thoughtfully.

You balked. “You don’t know?”

“No. It’s not something we’re told on Galaria.”

“But—” You laughed out of habit as your brain tried to process this information. “What? Why?”

“It’s not important.”

“I mean, I guess not. But like, it is!”

“Why?”

“I mean, some cultures here have entire systems of honorifics that you call people based on your age relative to theirs. But just—” You were still staring at him. “Don’t you know how old your brother is?”

“I know his birthday.”

“But not how old he is?”

“I… suppose not.” He shrugged. “That’s all kept somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just difficult for me to wrap my head around. You’re not allowed to know your brother’s age—”

“I’m allowed to know,” he corrected you. “If we were to learn somehow now, it would be fine. There’s no punishment for it. But it’s just not something that we grow up knowing. Nobody is referred to as the older or younger.”

“Do you remember your brother being born?”

“No.”

“Was he in a higher grade than you in school?”

“School is based on ability, not age.” It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “You move up in levels as your learning progresses, not your physical body. Is that how it works here?”

“We keep kids who are the same age together, yeah.”

“Fascinating.”

“What about siblings that have big age gaps? Where you can totally tell who’s older and who’s younger?” You asked. “Or step-siblings? Like, you already knew their age and then your parents got together?”

“Again, it’s not forbidden to know a sibling’s age,” Jungwoo reiterated. “It’s just not… important.”

“So if your brother is a controversial politician… What are you?” It felt like you could ask him questions forever and never run out. “You never did tell me that earlier.”

“My profession?”

“Yeah. What do you for work?”

“Specialized cargo transport.”

“Uh…” You blinked up at him. “You know that sounds really shady, right?”

“When people need things transported across galaxies, typically under time constraints, or with specific instructions, they come to me.” He tried to explain it further.

“What kind of stuff have you transported, then?”

“Anything from fuel, to an engagement comb, to produce from someone’s home planet that they were missing after moving elsewhere,” he shrugged.

“So you’re like an intergalactic DHL driver,” you laughed. “Sounds fun, I guess. You’ve been to a lot of places, then?”

“Yes, many different planets and cities and galaxies.”

“And this is your first time on Earth?”

“I haven’t had a reason to come to this solar system before. Your planet isn’t exactly involved in intergalactic trade. So, I might not have another chance to visit.”

“Nobody’s requesting any black market Earth commodities?”

“I guess… we don’t really know what’s here. Nobody’s ever put in the effort to find out, I suppose.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “We’re just not interesting enough, huh? Can’t even make it on the niche alien knickknack market.”

Jungwoo smiled a little. “That tends to be a good thing, in my experience.”

The two of you were walking through a night market at that point, and you perked up as you saw a particular stall. Your dinner earlier hadn’t included a dessert for Jungwoo. You stopped him, pointing to the ice cream stand. “Ooh, hey, you want something sweet?”

“Sweet…?” He peered over the crowd to try to see what they were serving.

“Yeah, dessert. Ice cream. Want some? They’ve got toppings too.” You pulled him into the line as you talked. “You can get sprinkles and candy, or even entire brownies as toppings. And they’ve got some really good flavors.”

“Which flavor do you like?”

“Peanut butter cup and green tea are my two favorites. But you can only get one flavor at a time here,” you sighed wistfully, getting on your tiptoes to look at their options again. “I think I’m going to do green tea today…”

With your own green tea cone and Jungwoo’s peanut butter cup selection in hand, the two of you started back down the streets together. You watched with interest as Jungwoo took his first tentative lick off the scoop, his face lighting up with delight.

“It’s good!” He declared happily. “We have something similar... on Galaria.”

“If your planet is mostly frozen tundra...” you paused to eat some of your own ice cream. “Is most of your food hot or cold?”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “I don’t know...”

“It’s okay, Jungwoo,” you laughed at how hard he seemed to be thinking about it. “I wouldn’t be able to answer that about Earth food. It wasn’t a very fair question, I think.”

“Still, I feel bad that I can’t answer your question.”

“It’s fine, really,” you promised, squeezing his arm. “It’s not going to keep me up at night.”

The next day, after another injection from Johnny on the vet’s way into work, you took Jungwoo to Yuta’s garage. There was no way you would be of any serious help when it came to furnishing him with parts for his ship, nor did you really want him just walking into your local hardware store asking for alien spaceship parts. Today seemed to be a slow day, as only one of Yuta’s coworkers was there, firmly wedged under a car on the other side of the garage, loudly playing music from a speaker, so you weren’t worried about him eavesdropping on your conversation so long as you kept your voices low. Jungwoo and Yuta had a slightly rocky start, obviously using different terminology, but eventually got on the same page, leaving you in the dust as they started going over various specifications and parts. You zoned out, taking over Yuta's chair and kicking up your feet on his workbench as you let their words go in one ear and out the other.

“Hey,” Yuta’s hand came down on your head, catching your attention again.

You craned your neck back to look up at him. “Yeah?”

“I’ve given him everything I had in stock, there’s a few things you guys will have to pick up at a shop,” he explained, and you turned around to see Jungwoo loaded up with a duffel bag that he hadn’t walked in with. “I wrote everything out so you know how to ask for it in human.”

“Thanks, Yuta.” You stood up and got out your wallet. “How much do I owe you for the parts?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What? But—”

“Hey, we all want to help him get home.” He held his hands up, backing away from your money. “Just doing my part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him knowingly. “Uh-huh... very charitable... What’s the catch?”

“Well, I’m going on this date tomorrow, and—”

“Pass.”

“You didn’t even hear me out!”

“I’m assuming the girl wants to bring a friend, you’re trying to turn it into a double date,” you snorted. “The last time I went on a double date with you—”

“No, not you,” Yuta waved you off. “Jungwoo!”

“Excuse me?”

Your friend had already sidled up to the alien, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What do you think? Date with an Earth girl? You’re only going to be here for so long...”

You rubbed your face in exasperation. “Yuta, you do remember that we don’t want people to find out that we have an alien here, right?”

“We can say he’s from out of town.”

“What is wrong with you?” You stared at him incredulously. “Just bring Johnny, or Jae, or any of your other ten million single human loser friends.”

“You’re not Jungwoo’s mom,” Yuta snorted.

“Well, no—”

“There we go, Jungwoo, do you want to go?” Yuta focused his question on Jungwoo instead.

Jungwoo’s eyes shifted nervously between you and Yuta. “Uhm, well...”

“Okay, I hate to be crude here, but keeping in mind how your successful dates usually look, Yuta,” you cut in again pointedly, “We can’t risk exposing what Jungwoo is. Doesn’t matter if we say he’s from out of town.”

Yuta raised an eyebrow at you. “Wow, Y/N, didn’t think you’d bring up the alien dick angle first.”

You groaned as your face burned. “You’re the worst. Why’d you have to say it?”

“Pretty sure you said it—”

“Will you drop it?!”

“I don’t want to go!” Jungwoo interjected loudly, stopping yours and Yuta’s bickering. “I don’t want to go. Uhm, thank you for the invitation, Yuta, really. But I’d rather not...”

Yuta shrugged. “Alright. I’m pretty sure Doyoung’s free.”

Your skin was still on fire as you left Yuta’s garage. He didn’t end up making you pay, despite neither of you fulfilling his need for a double-date partner. You were pretty sure the embarrassment of that conversation was payment enough in his mind. As you and Jungwoo headed for the nearest hardware store, you swallowed down some of your discomfort, unable to imagine how Jungwoo was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry about him, Jungwoo,” you sighed. “He shouldn’t have dragged you into all that.”

He looked down at you curiously. “Do you frequently feel the need to apologize for others’ behavior?”

You blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Uhm... What?”

“You apologized for Donghyuck and Mark being excited and a bit overzealous—in your opinion—when they met me. Now you’re apologizing for Yuta asking for a favor that was inappropriate—again, in your opinion. Do you do that a lot? Feel responsible for what your friends do or say to other people?”

“Well... I mean, no,” you stared down at the shopping list in your hand hard as you thought. “I guess... I’m embarrassed that they’re not behaving better around you.”

“You’re embarrassed of your friends?”

“No, I like them. I like my friends, or I wouldn’t be their friend.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean... they’re not treating you like someone they just met. They’re treating you like they’ve known you for as long as they’ve known the rest of us. You’re supposed to ease into that stuff so you don’t scare people off.”

“That makes me happy,” Jungwoo declared, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“What? Why?”

“Both that your friends would want to be familiar with me and not treat me like an outsider, and that you’re afraid of their behavior making me uncomfortable,” he explained. “You don’t want me to leave. Of course that makes me happy.”

You felt your eyes widen as you looked up at him. “Well, I mean, I do want you to leave, eventually. Obviously, I want you to go home. But I mean, yeah, I want your time here to be nice, you know? I don’t want you to be back home on Galaria thinking about your time on Earth being bad.”

A strange look flickered across the spaceman’s face then, you could’ve almost sworn it was pained, before the same serene smile came back. “I think I’ll remember my time on Earth very fondly. Really.”

You looped your arm with his, trying to shake the memory of the odd look on his face from your mind, playfully bumping your shoulder into him. “Well then let’s get you off Earth so you can start looking back on it, hm?”

After getting your last few things at the hardware store, you had to wait for the sun to go down before heading back to the beach. The path down to the ship was even more treacherous now that the two of you were loaded up with supplies, but you finally made it there in one piece. Jungwoo didn’t stop in the cockpit this time, leading the way towards the back of the ship, through the narrow hallway. He pressed a button outside a doorway, then when nothing happened, pressed it again. Nothing. He banged his fist against it a couple of times, cursing under his breath.

“What’s in there?” You asked.

“It’s the crew quarters,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a desk in there. We’ll be a lot more cramped working in the cockpit, but apparently this circuitry got affected too.”

“But we can still do it, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

You turned around to head back to the front of the ship. “Then let’s get started.”

Jungwoo seemed to be able to do much of the repairs on his own. You shone the flashlight on the work area, handed him tools and parts when requested, or held small pieces so they didn’t roll away from him. It was a bit cramped sitting on the floor of the cockpit behind the seats, it obviously wasn’t designed with this purpose in mind, and Jungwoo’s long limbs only made the space feel even smaller.

“Can you move the light here?” He requested, pointing to the side of the device that was facing him.

You scooted closer, trying to maneuver your phone around without blocking his vision with it. “How’s that?”

He shook his head. “I still can’t—”

“Hold on.” You scooted around behind him instead, pointing the flashlight from over his shoulder. “What about this?”

Jungwoo was quiet for a beat, and you peered around to try to look him in the eye.

“Jungwoo?”

“That’s perfect,” he answered, eyes focused down at object in his hands. “Is your arm getting tired?”

That was the first time you really noticed the ache in your limb from holding up your phone for so long. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You can rest it on my shoulder, if you want.”

“Oh, thanks.” You lowered your arm until it was propped up by his shoulder, making sure you adjusted your grip on your phone to keep your light on the same place. “Light still good?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As he kept working, you quietly watched his deft fingers move over the pieces. “So how do you know how to do all this?”

“I fly a lot,” he answered, his attention held by the parts in his hands as he was trying to precisely line up two of them.

“Yeah, but I mean, I have a driver’s license and I couldn’t change a flat tire, gun to my head, much less fix up the whole car if I crashed it off the side of a mountain,” you scoffed.

“You’re allowed to pilot a vehicle that you’re unable to repair yourself?”

“We have mechanics and stuff for that. Are you saying you’re not allowed to get your spaceship pilot’s license or whatever on Galaria without knowing how to build one from scratch?”

“You’re required to have a certain engineering proficiency to get your solo pilot’s license, yes.”

“Ah, you have a specialty license, then.”

“Yes, I do. It’s a requirement in case you ever find yourself in circumstances like this.”

“Crash landed on an alien planet and stranded with a busted ship?”

“Yes.”

You noticed that he had paused his machinations as you were talking. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”

“No, this is all I can do tonight. The adhesive needs to cure for some time before I can continue working.” He carefully set the part down. “I should be able to resume tomorrow night, I believe.”

“Sounds good to me.” You yawned and stretched your arms over your head. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway.”

“And what job do you do?” Jungwoo asked with intrigue as the two of you stood up.

“Reception at a law firm.” You could feel your nose habitually wrinkle with disdain.

“You don’t like it?” He immediately surmised.

Thankfully, the two of you were climbing out of the ship then, and had to stay silent through your trek up from the beach. You had time to think about how to answer his question as you climbed back up to the main roadway.

Finally, as the two of you started the walk down the shoulder of the highway, you let out a huff and said, “The work is fine, I guess. Except I hate being talked down to and belittled by people on the phone who think I’m stupid just because they’re attorneys and I’m not, or because I’m a woman, or I’m young, or because I’m just a receptionist or whatever. And I hate when they start yelling at me for no fucking reason, and I hate when people are in the office and start being fucking rude to me and I’m supposed to just sit there and take it. And I hate that in between all of that, it’s fucking boring. It constantly fluctuates between being so stressful and so goddamn boring I want to bang my head against a wall either way.”

“So... you don’t like it?” he asked again, head tilted with clear confusion on his features.

“It’s a job,” you replied flatly. “I need to eat. Do you like your job?”

“Yes, quite,” he replied quietly. After a pause, he questioned, “What sort of work do you want to do, then?”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” You let out a cynical chuckle, looking up at the sparse dotting of stars above you as the hum of the city streets started up around you again. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, just do more, learn more. And now that I know that aliens are real—” You looked over at Jungwoo wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy behind a desk again. You know?”

Jungwoo met your eyes, his lips parted as he couldn’t seem to respond for a moment.

You shook your head at yourself, looking back down at your feet and the concrete below them. Forcing humor back into your tone, you apologized, “Sorry, sorry. Of course you don’t know, you’re criss-crossing galaxies all the time, huh? You’ve got enough problems of your own right now anyway, you don’t need mine too.”

A large hand grabbed yours, cool to the touch and surprisingly firm as it squeezed yours. You could feel the callouses on Jungwoo’s hand where his skin pressed against yours. Shifting your gaze from your shoes back up to the alien, you furrowed your brow curiously, but made no move to pull away.

“Please, give them to me,” he said. “And when I leave, you can imagine that I’m taking all your problems with me, to somewhere very far away from here.”

It was your turn to be speechless for a moment, and the only thing that kept you from skidding to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk was the sea of other pedestrians keeping your momentum moving forward. Your skin got hotter, and you wondered if Jungwoo could feel it where he was holding your hand.

In an instinctive bid to diffuse the tension that was currently squeezing all the air from your lungs, you gave his shoulder a friendly bump as you teased, “Alright, well here’s a new problem: That’s quite possibly the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me, and I’m 100% sure you didn’t even do that on purpose.”

“I—”

“And our next problem—” You plowed right past whatever Jungwoo was about to say, still fighting the prickle along your skin where you knew his eyes were. “Unfortunately, it’s not Bring Your Alien to Work Day tomorrow, so do you think you’ll be okay at my apartment by yourself all day? Or do you want me to see if some of the guys can keep you company?”

“While I don’t want to inconvenience anybody, if somebody has time, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the city.”

“Sure, I’ll find someone.” You immediately took your phone out to text your top choice.

[you: are you busy tomorrow? i need someone to hang out with jungwoo while im at work]

[yonggie: i have a few errands to run and a few of us were talking abt seeing a movie in the afternoon. he’s welcome to tag along!]

[yonggie: unless the grocery store and stuff is going too be too boring?? i can do it another day and we can do something else!]

[you: i just feel bad keeping him cooped up in my apartment by himself all day. im sure he’ll have plenty of fun going grocery shopping with you. he’s never seen a human grocery store, after all]

[yonggie: sounds like a plan! let him know i’ll be by around 10ish!]

[you: thanks yonggie, i owe you]

“Taeyong is free tomorrow,” you announced to Jungwoo. “You haven’t really met him yet, but he was there when we found you. You don’t mind tagging along with him while he runs a few errands, do you? He’ll be going all around the city, I’m sure. Oh, and it sounded like some of the guys might be doing a movie later, too.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jungwoo smiled down at you. “For everything.”

You smiled and lightly elbowed him again. “Like I said, I want you to have good memories of Earth.”

A few more days passed by like that, with you finding various friends to leave Jungwoo with during the day while you went to your dreadfully boring job, then the two of you would eat dinner together before heading off to the beach to work on his spaceship until late. Tonight in particular, you didn’t have much to help with, as he was able to prop up a spare flashlight you’d gotten from the hardware store for illumination as he worked.

“When do you think we’ll be done tonight?” You asked, spinning the cockpit seat around as you unfocused your eyes, letting the colorful lights become hazy blurs and streaks in your vision.

“Soon,” he answered shortly as he usually did when he was focused. “Do you have something you need to do?”

“The guys are going out.” You read the texts on your phone as they streamed in. “They invited me and you, by the way.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, Jaehyun just got promoted to assistant professor, so we’re celebrating.” You stopped your spinning to watch him work again, but found that he had stalled his ministrations. “It’ll be at least two or three nightclubs; if you’re not up for that, that’s fine.”

“They invited me?” He repeated, brow furrowed as he had clearly not been expecting that.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat the back of his head fondly. “Yeah, Jungwoo, they like you. It’s also definitely a bit of novelty, you know—‘Hey let’s see if we can get the alien shitfaced’—but I won’t let them mess with you.”

“Yes, I’d like to go with you.” He smiled, looking back down at the contraption in his hands. “It won’t be much longer.”

Knocking on the front door of a very familiar apartment, you bounced on your toes as you waited for one of the occupants to answer. It was Johnny who opened the door, eyes lingering on Jungwoo behind you before he went to give you a hug. “Hey, kid. How are you?”

“Good, good. How are you, John?” You patted his back them dropped back down onto flat feet.

“Same old, you know?” He grinned and shrugged, then finally addressed Jungwoo. “Hey, man. How’s your side?”

“Fine, good. Thank you,” Jungwoo answered hastily, offering a polite nod.

“Jae!” You called into the apartment, latching onto Jungwoo’s wrist and dragging him over to Jaehyun’s closed bedroom door. You banged on the door. “Jaehyun! Come on, it’s me, your favorite!”

The door opened a second later, Jaehyun looking at you stone-faced as he buttoned up his shirt. “You claim you’re everyone’s favorite.”

“I am! Aren’t I?” You grinned.

“Can’t a guy get dressed in his own apartment in peace? Bother Johnny.” He was about to close the door in your face when you stuck your foot in the way.

“Can Jungwoo borrow some clothes?” You requested sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Jaehyun looked the alien up and down skeptically. “He’s already wearing my clothes.”

“He can’t go to the club in a sweatshirt and jeans!”

Your friend sighed and opened the door wider, jerking his head in a gesture for you two to come in.

“Thank you!” You squealed, pulling Jungwoo in with you.

Jaehyun sat on his bed as you started rifling through his closet for something for Jungwoo to wear. Pulling a couple shirts down first, you held them up to the spaceman, humming to yourself as you compared how they looked on them. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, putting one back and looking for another. With two new shirts, you held them up again, nodding in satisfaction. “Yeah, I like that a lot better.”

“He’s not a doll, Y/N,” Jaehyun snorted. “Go ahead, Jungwoo, you can tell her not to play dress-up with you.”

Jungwoo rubbed the back of his neck, the iridophores on his cheeks flashing as he shifted awkwardly in place. “I don’t mind it, really…”

“And that’s how I ended up as the first and only victim of Y/N’s Barber Shop when I was eight.” Johnny had joined the three of you, leaning in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You say that like your hair didn’t grow back,” you scoffed. “I didn’t take your ear off or anything.”

“Just my dignity.”

“And who gave me the scissors?”

Johnny held his hands up in surrender, making his roommate laugh.

“Johnny’s always been a pushover when it comes to Y/N,” Jaehyun explained to Jungwoo, still chuckling. “Ever since they were kids.”

“Alright guys, listen up!” You called for their focus loudly. “This is going to be one of the most important questions I ask you in our entire lives.”

Johnny and Jaehyun gave you two very similar amused but attentive looks, while Jungwoo beheld you with absolutely rapt attention.

You held up the two shirts that you had narrowed your selection to for Jungwoo. “White lace or black silk?”

“He’s not wearing those jeans, is he?” Johnny cocked his head.

“God no,” you shook your head. “Or the sneakers. I’m thinking simple black pants and boots. His necklace will go good with both, right?” You pointed to the gold transcoder that rested below his collarbones.

“White.” Jaehyun pointed.

“Black.” Johnny shrugged.

“Helpful.” You glared at them. Turning to Jungwoo, you held up the tops. “What do you think? Do you even like them at all? These are just my favorites, you can pick something else if you want.”

“I like them,” Jungwoo reassured you, fingertips gently running over the front of one shirt, then the other. “Which is your favorite?”

“I think the black silk?” You appraised it again. “Yeah, I like the neckline, and I think the material will move really nice for a night out, you know?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

You handed him that hanger and put the other back in the closet where you found it. Looking at the owner of the room, you prompted, “Jae, you’ll get him the right pants and stuff, right?”

“Sure,” he nodded and stood up, teasing glint in his eye. “It’s not like we’re meant to be celebrating my accomplishments tonight or anything. I’m just a butler, really.”

“Great, thanks!” You grinned back, traipsing out of the room with Johnny.

A few minutes later, Jaehyun joined the two of you in the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling his shoes on. “So, anything new, Y/N?” He asked innocently.

“You mean, other than the alien living in my apartment?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really, work’s the same.”

“You’re still at that shit place?” Johnny didn’t hide his distaste of your workplace.

“Yup.” You replied flatly.

“I thought you said you were looking for new jobs.”

“One, you said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Two, I am, the job market sucks right now, John.”

“Have you even interviewed anywhere? Submitted your résumé?”

“God, not this again…” Jaehyun groaned from his spot between you two on the couch.

“Not everybody can inherit a veterinary practice once their mentor retires and have their life made,” you snapped, turning to glare at Johnny pointedly.

“My life’s made? I’m still paying off my student loans, you know that, right?” He scoffed. “Not to mention how much free morphine I’ve been giving your buddy in there just the past few days.”

“I told you I’ll pay you back once he’s better, you said not to worry about it, and now you’re holding it over my head!” You said in disbelief. “God, this is just like you!”

“‘Just like me?’”

“Yes, you always nag me about shit like you think I can’t do anything, and insist on handling things for me instead of letting me do it, then just turn right around to use that as further proof that I can’t do anything on my own!” You were about to launch to your feet when Jaehyun caught your arm and urged you back into your seat.

“Woah, woah,” Jaehyun looked back and forth between you two. “Time out. You’re both right and you’re both wrong. Johnny, we get that you’re coming from a good place, but obviously Y/N feels patronized with the way you treat her. Y/N, Johnny has a lot going on too that you’re ignoring on purpose to make him seem like the bad guy, which also isn’t fair.”

Johnny pushed some of his hair out of his face as he stared ahead at the TV across the room, obviously refusing to meet your eyes now. You crossed your arms over your chest and flopped back against the cushions, not looking at either of them. You’ve never been great at apologizing first.

“You two aren’t making up before we go out, are you?” Jaehyun rubbed his face.

“No.” “Nope.”

Jaehyun’s bedroom door opened then, Jungwoo hesitantly stepping out, still fussing with the shirt. When he looked up, the searching look fell from his face as he obviously could sense the tension in the room, turning cautious instead.

“Is everything alright?” While his question was general, his eyes were focused on you when he asked.

“Yeah, Jungwoo!” You forced a cheery smile again, jumping to your feet as you appraised his outfit. “I love being right. It looks so handsome on you!”

“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck again as you walked around him, brushing off a spare piece of fluff from his back. “Thank you.”

“What do you guys think?” You asked the other two proudly, looping your arm with Jungwoo’s.

“Yeah, he looks—”

“Fine. Can we go now?” Johnny cut his roommate off, grabbing his keys and walking over to the door.

“Rude,” you muttered under your breath, but followed the other two with a roll of your eyes nevertheless.

“Congrats!” Everybody cheered in unison, clinking their glasses together.

“Thanks, guys,” Jaehyun beamed at you all, bringing his drink to his lips.

“So are you like tenure track now, or what?” Doyoung prompted him eagerly.

“Yes, I am,” he announced proudly. “I’m no longer instructional, I’m academic.”

All your friends let out a chorus of jesting but supportive ‘ooh’s at that, and you squeezed his arm from beside him. “Look at you, a real academic now. Knew that big head was good for something.”

“You little—” He went to tousle your hair. You let out an ‘eep!’ and jerked away from his hand, back into Jungwoo on your other side.

“Sorry!” You laughed through your apology to the alien, patting his arm as he hadn’t been knocked very far back at least. “You alright, Jungwoo?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” he reassured you with a fond smile.

“Now, are you absolutely sure you can have that?” You pointed to the drink that you had helped him order. After realizing that for some reason he immediately knew what morphine was, but his transcoder was failing on what alcohol was, you’d explained the drink—with some assistance from your friends and Google—to him to make sure it wasn’t going to kill him, but you noticed that he hadn’t yet actually taken a sip yet.

“Yes, yes.” He lifted the glass again.

“If morphine doesn’t get you high, I wonder if alcohol is even going to do anything to do you,” Johnny mused, slowly nursing his liquor.

“Take it slow, drink water, and even though we ate before we came, keep eating while we’re here, okay?” You told Jungwoo, shooting Johnny a glare over the spaceman’s shoulder.

He nodded, and with that, you grabbed your own drink, clinked it to his one more time, and drained half of it in one go. You watched his face carefully, both for any sign that he was in imminent danger, and in the vent that he was fine, if he liked the drink you’d picked. You’d chosen a cocktail on the sweeter side for him, a fruity, bubbly, unnaturally bright colored one that a couple of the guys had snickered at, which he either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. Jungwoo didn’t immediately go into anaphylactic shock, which you pocketed as a win. Just like when he tried Nutella for the first time, his eyes widened with delight before he went back in for more.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his head fondly. “Pace yourself,” you reminded him.

He set it down and smiled sheepishly. “Right. Thanks.���

Hyuck and Yuta had disappeared at some point, as they were now returning to your table with a round of shots for everybody. You shook your head, but picked yours up and knocked it back with everyone else. Jungwoo watched you, taking your lead. While the rest of you had various hisses and negative reactions to the tequila you were now realizing they had gotten you, Jungwoo seemed unaffected by the burn as he calmly set the shot glass down.

“Ugh, did you guys get motor oil or something?” Johnny pushed his glass away from him with distaste.

“Cheapest shit they had,” Yuta informed him smugly. “Afraid real motor oil tastes better than that.”

“I’m going to get us some waters,” you told Jungwoo before slipping off into the crowd.

You watched the bartender quickly fill up your two glasses with ice, then water. Right as he had pushed them over to you, you became aware of someone sidling up to you at the bar and grabbing your hip. You whipped around and jerked away to put distance between yourself and the newcomer, a complete stranger to you.

He chuckled at how he had startled you, stepping closer to you once again. “Woah, sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine,” you replied flatly, reaching for your waters to turn to leave.

“Hey, I did want to talk to you.”

“No thanks.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to.” You didn’t like that he had started shifting in front of you, putting himself between you and the rest of the club, blocking you against the bar.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name as a taller figure pushed past the stranger, securing your arm in his hand. Johnny fixed the man with a hard stare before looking at you again, “There you are. Come on, we’re toasting Jaehyun again.”

“Right,” you smiled up at your friend, letting him half-pull you away from the bar. The other man didn’t say a word, letting you go as he disappeared into the crowd as well.

Halfway back to your table, you reluctantly mumbled a sharp ‘thanks’ to Johnny’s back. He must’ve heard you somehow over the thumping music, as he looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes softening for just a moment as he nodded once, before continuing to clear a path for the two of you back to your other friends.

You wormed your way back into your spot between Jungwoo and Jaehyun, pushing Jungwoo’s glass against his arm. “Here.”

“Thank you.” His eyes didn’t leave you, seemingly scanning you over with worry. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, fine.” You shook your head to clear away the memory.

“I’m sorry, I realized that man was making you uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure what to do. Johnny told me to stay here while he went over.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Jungwoo.” You assured him. “We can't have you getting punched defending me and bleed blue all over the place. Thanks for keeping an eye on me and telling Johnny, though.”

“But—”

“Hey, you know what?” You flashed him a smile, already starting to feel warm and airy from the alcohol. “I want to dance. How about you come with? Creepy guys should stay away if I’m already with someone.”

“Sure,” he nodded for you to lead the way.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table and into the outer edge of the dance floor. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you tilted your head, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, should I…?”

You took his hands that were uncertainly hovering in the air and put them on your hips before returning your own to his shoulders. “There. Also, sorry.”

“For what?”

As soon as his question was out of his mouth, you inadvertently stepped on his foot, a sheepish smile flashing across your face. “I’m not a very good dancer,” you admitted. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “That’s okay.”

“Hey, you’re pretty good,” you laughed as he kept up with the rhythm and also kept you from being a general hazard.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have places like this where you’re from?” You were careful not to say anything out of the ordinary to hint that ‘where he was from’ was actually outer space.

“Residents from elsewhere have brought similar nightclubs to our larger cities,” he informed you. “I’ve visited a few.”

“You a party boy?” You grinned.

“I’m not sure about that,” he was smiling as well. “But I’m enjoying myself with you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“I’m having fun too, Jungwoo,” you replied sincerely. Your toe caught on his shoe then, and you squeaked as you stumbled forward towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself from completely face-planting into his collarbone. His hands on your waist steadied you, and you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Sorry. Thanks.”

“You’re not usually this clumsy.”

“I’m a bit tipsy,” you whispered loudly. “Alcohol and motor function… not good.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Can I stay right here?” You requested sweetly, watching his patches of iridescent freckles flash and sparkle in the lights that pulsed across the dance floor. “You’re surprisingly sturdy, and your irido-irido—you know—are so pretty…”

“Of course,” Jungwoo readjusted to hold you more securely. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No.” You shook your head, starting to sway in his arms to the music. “I like this song.”

A warm puff of air washed over your ear as he chuckled. “I like it too.”

Sometime later in the night, you were sat in a booth at a different nightclub, slowly draining a water that Doyoung had pushed in front of you. Your other friends were somewhere in the club, only Jungwoo next to you. His cheeks were a little pink, but that could easily be from the body heat, as you were pretty sure you hadn’t seen him drink anything but water since your first stop of the night.

“Hey, Jungwoo?” You looked over at him with your cheek in your palm, supported by your elbow on the table.

“Yes?” He met your gaze without hesitation.

“Do—” You were cut off by a hiccup. “Do you think you’ll remember me? After you leave, once it’s been a while?”

“What?” He blinked at you, face turning oddly stern as he placed his hand over yours on the table. “Yes, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

“Oh. Do Galarii have photographic memory or something?”

“No.”

“But…” Another hiccup. “Don’t you go to all these places and meet so many people and do all sorts of stuff all the time? Like, of course I’m gonna remember the one alien I ever met, but why would you—”

Jungwoo turned to hold your hand with both of his. “Do you really think that you’re so insignificant? Or that I’m so… indifferent?”

“No, Jungwoo, I just—” You took your hand back to brush your fingertips over his iridophores under one eye. “I guess it’s kinda like how you don’t think these are anything special.”

“Y/N, if you remember only one thing from meeting me, please…” He shifted forward slightly, nothing but sincerity on his features. “No matter where I’ve gone, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t special. Including you.”

You felt your bottom lip quiver, and regretted that last shot you let Yuta and Donghyuck talk you into. As soon as you blinked, the tears fell, rolling quickly down your cheeks. You buried your face in Jungwoo’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of the silk material of his shirt.

“I’m… sorry?” He said quietly, gingerly patting your back.

“She crying?” Johnny’s voice came from behind you.

“Yes, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, she’s an emotional drunk after she’s partied herself out,” Johnny reassured the alien. A gentle hand landed on your head. “Hey, Y/N, time to go home.”

“That’s my shirt!” Jaehyun said indignantly, having also returned to your booth.

“I’ll clean it before I return it,” Jungwoo promised.

“Y/N,” Johnny called for you again in a sing-songy tone. “Come on, let’s go home.”

You lifted your head enough to sloppily wipe at your face, Jungwoo helping to push some hair back. Squinting at Johnny, you asked, “You’re taking me home?”

“Yeah, I’m taking you home,” he confirmed.

“But I thought you were mad at me?”

“I’m never that mad, kid, promise.”

“Do you need help, Johnny?” Jaehyun offered, then looked at Jungwoo. “Or are you going now too?”

“I’m going back with her,” Jungwoo immediately replied.

Johnny helped you scoot out of the booth, and on uneasy feet, you threw your arms around Jaehyun to give him one final congrats. Johnny took you back from your professor friend to half-guide, half-carry you out of the nightclub, Jungwoo following behind. Out front, Johnny cursed under his breath as he looked around.

“Jungwoo.” He waved the alien over. “Stay with her while I bring the car around, will you?”

“Of course.” Jungwoo immediately took your arm from Johnny’s grasp, steadying you as you swayed in place. Johnny gave the two of you one last uncertain look before taking off around the corner. You stepped closer to Jungwoo, leaning your weight against him as you let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry about him…” You said. “He should be nicer to you.”

“It’s okay,” Jungwoo responded, shifting to support you with an arm around your waist as your knees buckled for a moment. “He’s concerned for you, which I’m glad for.”

“I wish he’d stop treating me like a kid, though,” you huffed. “He literally calls me ‘kid.’”

“Is this why you were so curious that I didn’t know if my brother was older or younger?”

“Does he treat you like a grown-up?”

“He had some concerns with my career path at first,” he informed you, some amusement in his tone. “But I also worry for his safety.”

“I worry about Johnny,” you insisted. “I just… don’t make him feel stupid for it when I do.”

Johnny’s car stopped in front of you two then, and Jungwoo helped you into the backseat. He gently brushed your hands away so he could do your seatbelt for you—which took a few attempts, admittedly—and let you rest your head on his shoulder for the entire ride back to your apartment.

After a lot of insisting, you finally got Johnny to leave your home. You were tucked into bed in your pajamas with a glass of water, and heard Jungwoo eventually close the front door behind Johnny.

“Jungwoo!” You called for the alien loudly, not really caring about the time or your neighbors.

“Yes?” His head immediately poked into your room, eyes focused on you attentively.

“C’mere.” You patted the empty space next to you. He walked over to sit down, but as soon as he had, you shooed him away, “Wait, no! You should get into your pajamas too.”

“Alright. One moment.” He nodded and smiled softly. A few minutes later, Jungwoo emerged from the bathroom no longer in Jaehyun’s nice clothes but in Jaehyun’s sweatpants and t-shirt. He sat down cross-legged on top of the covers. “Better?”

“I’m tired,” you rolled over onto your side towards him.

“I’ll let you rest, then.” He moved to get off the bed, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Wait.” You yawned. “Can you stay for a bit?”

“As long as you wish.” He acquiesced easily.

“Can you…” Another yawn. “Can you tell me some more about Galaria?”

He shifted the arm that you had grasped to hold your hand instead. “Sure. If you’ll close your eyes.”

“You’re trying to make me go to sleep.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed.

You snickered, but let your eyelids flutter shut anyway. “Hey, Jungwoo?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really gonna miss you once you go.” You squeezed his hand as you shifted around to get comfortable under your covers.

There was a stretch of silence so long that you were almost tempted to open your eyes again, but before you could, he squeezed your hand back and spoke again, voice sounding slightly strained, “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. A lot.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “So, Galaria…”

In the morning, you groaned before you even had a single human thought. You instinctually rolled away from your window, where the faintest halo of light was coming in from around your curtains, burying your face into your pillow. And then your stomach lurched. Heaving yourself to your feet with some speed, you hurried into your bathroom, not even bothering with the light before kneeling at the toilet. Thankfully, nothing came back up, and after a few minutes, you got back to steady-ish feet. Looking back at your dim bedroom, you saw it devoid of anybody else, which you were mildly surprised about. You faintly remembered going to sleep with Jungwoo sitting next to you. He had no clue about human customs, for all you knew, Galarii wouldn’t have thought it strange to share a bed. You knocked back something for your stomach and the pounding in your head before treading out towards the living room. You were going to feel a little uneasy until you put eyes on your alien houseguest.

He was sitting upright on the couch, and stood up as soon as he saw you walking out, a relieved smile on his features. “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Johnny said I should make you breakfast—”

“That’s alright, Jungwoo, I’m not very hungry right now,” you admitted. “Maybe later. How are you? Anything from the alcohol?”

“I’m fine.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I’m not feeling well, Jungwoo.” You touched your forehead, giving him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to lay down for a bit. Will you be good out here?”

He looked at you anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Do you need anything before I—”

“Can I go with you?”

“…Into my room? That’s right down the hall? While I nap off a hangover?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing at your bedroom next to the living room.

He nodded.

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of his words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“I’m not sure if the term is used the same, but I imagine it’s a similar concept.”

“You think I’m your mom?!”

It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “No, of course not.”

You put a hand over your chest, relieved. “Okay, God, I had a heart attack.”

“You’re my mate,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?!” And your blood pressure was back through the roof.

“Lover? I’m not sure the term…” Jungwoo scratched the back of his neck.

You held your hands out defensively, trying to calm yourself down more than anyone else. “Jungwoo, look, we just met like a few days ago.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not nearly enough time to say we’re soulmates or anything.”

His face lit up. “Ahh, soulmates? Is that the word?”

“No!” You immediately shot that down. “Don’t start calling me that.”

“Y/N—”

“What even is this imprinting? Like how do you know it’s happened? Do you do it on purpose? Because if you did, you’ve got to ask people’s permission before doing that kind of thing, dude.”

“It’s not something we have control over. So no, I did not do it intentionally.”

“Oh. Okay.” That only calmed you down marginally.

“It’s…” Jungwoo sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he tried to figure out his words. “I didn’t realize it at first. When you dragged me out of my ship and I first saw you, everything was different. I thought it was the new atmosphere, new gravity, that my body was just adjusting.”

“What do you mean, ‘different’? Different how?”

“Colors are brighter around you—”

“That’s just some cheesy pickup line. It was pitch black when I found you.”

“No, really. Our species’ senses are sharpened around our—”

“Don’t.”

“—when we’ve imprinted, around whoever we’ve imprinted on. To better protect them,” he explained cautiously. “Again, I thought I was just getting used to your planet, but I always know where you are—”

“I tell you where I’m going when I leave.”

“I don’t mean like that. It’s stronger the closer you are, but I just always have this feeling, of where you are. I know you left work yesterday afternoon to go down the street, then went back.”

“I went to the convenience store on my lunch break,” you confirmed with a huff. “Assuming you’re telling the truth and aren’t actively stalking me, I’m guessing that would be another… mechanism to protect that person? That you’re… you know.”

“Yes.”

“What’s even the point of imprinting on me? Or anybody that’s not another Galarii?” You crossed your arms. “My eyes work just fine when you’re not around, and the only way I’d know exactly where you were if I couldn’t see you would be chipping you like a dog.”

“I don’t know.”

You shook your head. “So… you all are just, what? Celibate? Until you eventually find someone to imprint on?”

“Casual relationships aren’t unusual, though many don’t see a point in having such a relationship before imprinting.” He immediately became even more serious. “I’m not inexperienced sexually, if that’s a concern.”

“Oh, God, no!” You covered your face with two hands and groaned. “I was just wondering like… How do you know this imprinting thing is for real? Like, you’re actually ending up with someone good for you, if you don’t have any sort of reference to draw from on what sort of person you like, what you want and don’t want in a relationship?”

“We don’t have to know before, because we’re not picking our… lifelong companion, like I understand you humans do.”

You blinked at him. “Marriage. You’re talking about marriage.”

“Yes. You have to have this set of parameters before you prepare for… marriage. We’re not choosing, so we don’t need such standards. We find.”

“Yeah, but why me? What is it about me that activated your imprinting or whatever the hell?” You couldn’t help the shiver that went up your spine when you said it. “Shouldn’t that be something that only other members of your species can do? Like, evolution-wise?”

“That’s something that my species is still investigating.”

“God, okay…” You rubbed your temples. “Well, my head fucking hurts. I’m going to lay down—alone.”

“Of course.” Jungwoo nodded and stepped back, sitting down on the far side of the couch from you.

Your bed smelled like Jungwoo. You couldn’t nap like this, or even rest your eyes. But you didn’t want to go back out there yet, needing time to let your brain turn over what you’d just been told. So you laid in your bed that smelled like Jungwoo and scrolled on your phone, absentmindedly chewing on the skin around your thumbnail.

⇢ part two

TAGLIST: @bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

[afterglowsainz]

Carlos sainz number 2 please

i can fix him (no really i can) | carlos sainz

song; i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

a/n: one of my favorites i’ve written

part of the spotify wrapped special

Carlos Sainz was a womanizer, flirt, and playboy, and no one could change him.

You rolled your eyes for the third time that night as you watched him flirt with the first woman who crossed his path at Ferrari’s end of the year party. Maybe it was a good thing this season was over and you wouldn’t have to see him anymore; after all, he was leaving, and you were staying. It wasn’t that you were envious with Carlos; it was just that his behavior stressed you out. Maybe he remind you a little of your ex-boyfriend? Whatever the case was, Carlos was far from your favorite person in the company, even though you seemed to be his.

“Why the face, preciosa?” another thing you didn’t like about Carlos—the damn Spanish nicknames.

“What face?” you asked, half wanting to punch him, half curious.

You quickly realized that if you felt even a hint of curiosity about what Carlos had to say, you’d probably had too much vodka.

“You’re looking at me like you want to stab my eyes out.” he laughed at his own joke, and you noticed he’d probably had as much to drink as you—if not more.

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of alcohol and embarrassment, but you weren’t about to show it in front of him. Thank Enzo for the dim lighting.

“You never change, do you, Sainz?” you muttered, taking another sip of your vodka martini. “Always so self-centered.”

The Spaniard smiled at you, one of those smiles he saved specifically for the hundreds of women he flirted with daily—one he used way too often with you. Before he could reply with whatever cheesy line he had prepared, Charles appeared beside you both, throwing an arm over Carlos’s shoulders and the other over yours.

“How’s it going?” Charles asked with a mischievous grin.

“Y/N’s drunk and I think she wants to kill me,” Carlos replied, maintaining eye contact with you.

“That’s not true!” you retorted like a child, making Charles laugh.

“Maybe you’ve had enough of these, huh?” Charles teased, taking the glass from your hand. “Mate, why don’t you escort her to her room, just to make sure she gets there safely?” he suggested, addressing Carlos.

“I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere, and I don’t want to leave.”

“No problem.” Carlos ignored your protest, downed the rest of his drink, and gently guided you away from Charles and toward the exit of the party.

You didn’t say anything on the way, a little frustrated that both men had effectively kicked you out of the event but also a little tired, as the alcohol was beginning to take its toll. The party was being held at a luxurious hotel in Maranello, where the guests were also staying, and by the time you and Carlos reached the elevator, you’d mustered just enough energy to speak.

“Okay, we’re here. I guess you can go now,” you said, making no effort to thank him for accompanying you.

“I’ll walk you to your door and leave after that.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you replied.

“Y/N, contrary to what you might think of me, I am a gentleman.”

The elevator arrived, and Carlos gestured for you to step in first. Too tired to argue, you entered the small metal box and pressed the button for your floor. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, lulled by the gentle motion of the elevator. You might not have liked Carlos, but oddly enough, you trusted him.

However, your brief moment of peace shattered as the elevator jolted violently, and the bright white light flickered off, leaving you in dim emergency lighting.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

Carlos acted quickly, pressing the emergency button. When nothing happened for a few seconds, he pressed it again, and this time a male voice mumbled something in Italian through the speakers. Panic crept into your chest as you turned to Carlos, hoping he understood better than you.

“The hotel is having issues with this elevator, but they already called maintenance. It’ll take about twenty to thirty minutes,” Carlos translated.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice weaker than you intended.

Carlos noticed the change in your demeanor despite his drunken state.

“You okay?” he asked, draping his suit jacket over your bare shoulders without asking.

“Yeah, it’s just… I didn’t expect to be stuck in an elevator right now, you know?” for once, you didn’t argue with his chivalry, instead pulling the jacket tighter around yourself, comforted by the scent of him.

Carlos nodded, moving closer when he realized you weren’t retreating as usual. You sat on the cold ceramic floor, and he joined you. Despite the proximity, the faint light made it difficult to see your face clearly. Maybe it was the dim lighting or the liquid courage, but he spoke up.

“Why do you hate me, Y/N?” His accent thickened as he asked the question, catching you off guard.

“I don’t hate you, Carlos,” you replied simply. When he realized you weren’t offering more, he pressed on.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” His tone lacked its usual playful edge; it sounded raw, vulnerable.

You turned to face him, even though you couldn’t fully see his expression.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. “I just think our personalities clash. But I don’t hate you.”

He nodded slowly. “You know I’m not really like that, right?”

You frowned, confused. “Like what?”

“I know what you think of me, but I’m not like that. I’m not a womanizer.”

You didn’t believe him, but you were kind enough not to say it aloud.

“I’ve never said that about you,” you offered, a little white lie.

“Maybe not, but I know you think it.” Carlos sighed, running a hand over his face. “You’re so frustrating, you know that?”

Before you could take offense, he continued. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for four years, and you never noticed.”

You were speechless. Completely and utterly stunned.

“Uh?” was all you could manage, feeling ridiculous. “But all the women…”

“Only one matters,” he interrupted, subtly gesturing toward you.

"Why didn’t you just say something?" you managed to ask after what felt like an eternity. You still needed to process his confession.

“You had a boyfriend when we met, so I didn’t. Then, when you broke up, you’d already decided I was just a player, which I’m not.”

Unintentionally, you pouted—a gesture he couldn’t see due to the darkness. You tried to take yourself back to those moments in the past when maybe Carlos had attempted to get your attention in some way, and how you’d always viewed his actions with ulterior motives. In your defense, as he had mentioned, you had a boyfriend when you first met him, and he was incredibly decent not to make a move during that time. But later, when your heart was broken, perhaps you hated all men, so it wouldn’t surprise you to think you had misjudged him all these years.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

Suddenly, the space started to feel much hotter than before, although not for long. As quickly as it had malfunctioned, the flickering white light turned on, and the elevator began ascending again just as it had moments earlier. Seconds later, a soft ding and the glowing red numbers announced your arrival at your hotel floor, and the metallic doors slid open, welcoming three men dressed in blue uniforms—undoubtedly the hotel maintenance team.

The man closest to them apologized on behalf of the hotel in Italian, and Carlos responded that it was no problem, helping you off the cold floor and exiting as quickly as possible, his hand still holding yours.

When you arrived at your room, he let go of your hand, and you immediately missed its warmth.

“Are you going back to the party?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant while searching for your key in your purse.

“I don’t think so. I think I’ll head to my room to rest,” he replied, searching your gaze.

You nodded slowly as you opened the door, mentally debating whether or not to ask the question. In the end, the part of your brain fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, and the euphoria of his earlier confession won.

“Or maybe… you could come in, if you want?” Your eyes finally locked with his in a hopeful gaze.

His answer wasn’t immediate, but then he nodded.

[hemlockesprings]

Are you excited for your Spotify wrapped? Care to share some of your top songs??

Yesssss so I posted it somewhere but hold up, imma add little exercepts 😻

hemlocke's top songs:

Duel - Propaganda -> I'm pretty sure this was in one of my last Spotify Wrapped thingamajiggers last year! Let me tell you, just AMAZING instrumentation, it's such a whirlwind! Although I'm pretty sure this song is about dyingggggggg

Gospel for a New Century - Yves Tumor -> the whole album (Heaven to a Tortured Mind) is good, but this song as the opener had me alll the way fucked up let me tell you! Hits the soul so so hard!

Don't You Want Me - The Human League -> Such a classic tune tbh! Probably my favorite 80s synth pop tune, and that's saying something cause I am an 80s fiend!

Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode -> QUITE HONESTLY the first time I heard this song, I did not like it! Idk if I Stockholm Syndrome-d myself into liking it (am I using that correctly??), but listening to this song makes me feel euphoric and like I have a long black flow dress on and I'm just twirling around!

One Evening - Feist -> LOL if the song above made me feel euphoric, this song made me feel sad af (and I'm not entirely sure if it's a sad song tbh)! I literally remember sitting at the mall and listening to it probably 20-30 times 😭 I really was missing out on the Feist train omg

Songs I'm surprised that didn't make it:

The Promise - When in Rome -> This definitely should have made my top 5 in my opinion! I REPLAYED this song SO FUCKING MUCHHHH because I had heard parts of it a long ass time ago, but never the full thing! It's so good with a very interesting chorus in my opinion!

Promises, Promises - Naked Eyes -> LITERALLY this song would come right after the one above it and I REPLAYED THE SHIIIIIIIITTTT out of this, again very surprised to see it not on my top 5!

-🔒🎶🩵

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Age gap!Bruce is so in love with his wife, I’m sure that he believes she can’t do nothing wrog. Like, he’s the type to brag about how amazing she’s to everybody.

I love your writing and this scenario in particular has me very interested bc I think is so original. Usually, I don’t like age gap bc writers tend to make reader a little childlike or with no personality, but age gap!reader is so unique that I love her so much.

I like to imagine one of Bruce’s exes, like Selina (I’m sorry, but I always remember how she left him at the altar. I love her but my heart breaks for Bruce) comes back to Gotham and everything is kinda awkward bc yes, they have this weird off and on relationship (they haven’t seen each other for more than a year), not string attached but serious at the same time. And suddenly, he’s married to a fucking pop-star and actress??

Even a one night stand seeing Bruce “the playboy” marrying reader.

I can see this with anyone who used to be in love or having feelings either for Bruce or reader. “That should be me” by Justin Bieber will be in their spotify wrapped

I think it was the hard launch of the YEAR. Everyone will be so shocked by it that it becomes an iconic and part of Gotham’s pop culture. They did an interview and suddenly, the next thing they knew?? They got married at a private ceremony where only close family and friends knew.

"This is a stunt even for you, Bruce," Lois scolded tapping her foot. "Honestly-"

Bruce held his hands up, "The only reason it's public now is because we got caught in public. She was perfectly happy to be a private thing."

"Bruce," she scoffed giving him a look, "I know she's an adult but still. You're old enough to be her dad-"

"Not unless I was 16 when she was born," Bruce snorted, "she's the same age Dick is. Damian is 9-"

Lois rolled her eyes and took a seat, "So what did your kids say?"

"Over all, they were fine with it. If not happy about it. But Jason had to make a scene about me dating his childhood crush and betraying him all over again for dramatic effect. And Damian had to lecture me about the security risk."

"Naturally," Lois said smiling. "Jon said Damian had a lot to say about it. That's how we heard about it."

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes. "Be nice to her-"

"Are you kidding?" Lois asked, slightly incredulous.

"No-"

"Why would I not be? She's Iconic, honestly."

"And better at managing her image than I am," Bruce chuckled.

"Sad, really," Lois observed dryly. "But also impressive."

"No one knows who she dates, where she donates, no one knows her net worth for sure... honestly if she didn't volunteer the information I'm not even sure I'd know her favorite color."

"I'm not surprised," Lois mused, "After watching her get ripped apart a few years ago."

"I don't-"

"You wouldn't," Loid allowed, "You didn't have editors that wanted you to write think pieces about it. And you didn't work in an office that had a betting pool to her inevitable suicide or addiction spiral."

Bruce winced. He didn't remember it. Not directly, but you'd talked about it. It was part of why he agreed to letting you keep things private. You liked keeping things quiet. A separation between your public face and your private one. It fucked you up. And no one protected you. You'd had to handle it alone- Sure, you had your team but that wasn't the same as having PEOPLE to fall back on.

"I'll be nice," Lois assured him, "Just don't be a creep or I'll sic Clark on you later."