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starlightkun · 4 months ago

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⇢ 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

#jungwoo x reader #nct x reader #jungwoo #bjnet #jungwoo imagine #nct imagine #nct #kim jungwoo #jungwoo imagines #nct imagines #f: finders keepers #writing #text #mine #wooloved #bias tag #i: jungwoo #*100 #*200

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tinypandacakes · 5 months ago

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Trapper, Keeper — Ch. 16: Always

Tags: dubious consent, dark romance, power imbalance, gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, Stockholm syndrome, injury recovery, fluff and smut, slice of life, implied non-consensual drug use, size difference, gratuitous use of pet names, metaphors, and descriptions of König's eyes

Wc: 16k [172k total]

When it was time for König to prepare dinner, you hovered at his elbow like a nosy housecat, tail wrapped around his calf as you signaled a need for attention. You were close enough that your hand brushed against the side of his sweatpants, and your clammy fingers instinctively gripped at the material. Eventually, he glanced over his shoulder at you, head tilting in question.

“Do you need something, Hase?”

You blinked, chastised, even though his tone was gentle. “No,” you replied, unsure. “I dunno.”

König let out a soft sigh. It was an affectionate sound, airy and light, not annoyed — otherwise, you might have burst into tears on the spot, as fragile as you felt — but like the kind of noise he might have uttered to a lamb, bleating sadly with its tiny hoof caught in a fence.

He lifted you onto the counter beside him, and you settled in, hands retreating into your too-long sleeves. Sitting there might have been awkward, but he pressed a cookbook into your lap, offering you something to do. You kept a thumb between the pages he needed and flipped through while your sock-covered feet dangled over the cabinets, lightly tapping the wood. Some of the age-yellowed pages were moisture-damaged from spills or speckled with spattered sauces. The corners were discolored from spice-dusted fingers, evidence of recipes well-loved, cooked again and again until they were committed to memory.

König tucked up his hood and brought a spoonful of sauce up to his pursed lips, blowing gently over the steaming surface. He tasted thoughtfully then licked away a stray droplet at the corner of his mouth, swiping his lips clean, leaving them soft and damp.

You realized you were staring and looked away quickly, busying yourself by flicking through to the dessert section of the cookbook. But your eyes soon drifted from the cakes and pastries back to König, hunched over the stove. His forearms flexed as he slid a pan back and forth across the flame, skin and scar shifting enticingly over muscle and bone. The swell of his pecs and softness of his belly were faintly outlined by his shirt, soft cotton clinging, offering a preview of what lay below. Something deep inside of you heated up just like the pad of butter he added to the skillet, melting and sizzling across the surface.

This was dangerous.

His hood fell back over his mouth and beard, excess fabric pooling around his shoulders. You squeezed your thighs together, subtly chasing relief. He didn’t get fully undressed before you often — or ever, had he? No, only bits and pieces here and there, other than the time you'd spied on him as he got dressed after his shower. You felt just as lecherous now as you did then, eyes drifting lower, below the waistband of his sweatpants where the curve of his ass was unmistakable through the fleece.

“See anything you like?” König asked, eyes darting to you in a sideways glance.

“Oh, I—” You jolted at his words, eyes snapping up. Your mouth dried in an instant, coherent thought evaporating just as quickly. “Sorry?”

He nodded toward the book in your hands. “The recipes,” he offered. “Did you find one you like?”

“Um, yeah,” you replied absently, realizing you were at the index now, not even on a recipe anymore. You swiped back a few pages before he noticed, landing on a carefully decorated cake. “Well. They…all sound good.” You cringed inside, sure you looked as foolish as you sounded.

“I should have known you would go right to dessert.” His eyes flicked from the page to your face. “Craving something sweet, little one?” His eyes narrowed with an unseen smile, but you could hear the mirth in his voice, a gentle tease that brought heat to life across your cheeks like stoked coals.

You stared numbly down at the cake recipe you’d landed on, then back up at him. He leaned forward, just barely invading your space. Your chin was already tilting of its own accord, eager to agree with him — yes, yes — pleasant and tame under his gaze.

“Mm,” he hummed knowingly, his eyes fixed on yours instead of the dips and swirls of chocolate icing and glossy red cherries printed on the page. He leaned closer yet, voice dropping as if he was letting you in on a secret. “That’s alright. I am too.”

You can the entire chapter on AO3 ☺️ please consider leaving a kudos and comment if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to support my writing and fuel my caffeine habit, here’s my kofi >:3 https://ko-fi.com/tinypandacakes

#könig x you #trapper keeper #könig x y/n #könig x reader #könig #call of duty #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #dark romance #yandere

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mercillery · 8 months ago

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ANDREW KREISS RELATIONSHIP OVERVIEW

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + MENTION OF ABLEISM + OOC? + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Andrew mains let me put you in my pocket and take care of you. And quit your jobs too, I will provide for you all.

Being in a relationship with Andrew is an adventure in patience, understanding, and love. Sure, love is a given in any relationship, but with Andrew, it's essential to navigate his unique quirks and preferences with a touch of extra care.

For instance, Andrew dislikes sunlight, so when it comes to planning dates, be prepared for moonlit strolls and stargazing rather than sunny picnics and beach outings. If you’re a sun worshipper, it’s time to stock up on moonblock instead.

Crowds? Forget about it. Andrew thrives in the quiet corners of the world, where the population density is low and the ambiance is serene. He’s the quintessential introvert, the kind who’d rather have a cozy evening at home than a bustling night out. If you’re the life-of-the-party type, this might require some adjustment.

When you first start dating, don't be surprised if he stumbles over his words or gets flustered over the simplest things. A casual brush of your hand against his might send him into a blushing frenzy. He might awkwardly laugh at things that aren’t jokes or offer you a flower he picked up without realizing it's a bit wilted. It's all part of his charm, though.

Andrew’s awkwardness comes from a place of inexperience rather than indifference. He genuinely wants to give you all his love and affection, but he’s not quite sure how to go about it. He’s learning, slowly but surely, how to open up and let someone into his world. Please be patient with him.

The early days of your relationship might be filled with small, tentative steps. Once he’s actually comfortable around you enough, maybe he’ll invite you to the cemetery, showing you his world in a way that’s meaningful to him. Don’t be surprised if he seems more at ease there, where he’s surrounded by the familiar. It might seem unconventional, but for Andrew, it's a big step toward letting you into his life.

His awkwardness is part of what makes him so endearing. Every hesitant smile and gesture is a sign of his growing affection for you. He's new to all of this, and it feels weird to him, but in the best way possible. As he becomes more comfortable, you'll see glimpses of his true self—a kind, thoughtful person who’s just been waiting for someone to understand him.

I think it should be flat-out obvious that Andrew is not one for grand displays of affection. Don't expect sweeping romantic gestures or elaborate declarations of love. He shows his feelings through small, meaningful actions that speak volumes about his deep affection for you. You might find a single flower left on your pillow, a delicate token of his feelings. Or, during difficult moments, he'll be there, quietly holding your hand, offering comfort and support without saying much.

Andrew has a way with words, but he prefers to write them down rather than speak them. You might receive handwritten notes from him, filled with poetic descriptions of his emotions and how much you mean to him. These notes are treasures, capturing his heartfelt sentiments in a way spoken words often can't.

His love language is all about acts of service and giving thoughtful gifts. He'll go out of his way to do little things that make your life easier, whether it's fixing something around the house, cooking a meal, or simply being there when you need him. These acts, though seemingly simple, are his way of showing how much he cares.

As for gift giving, receiving gifts from Andrew is always special because they're never random. Each gift is chosen with care and has a personal significance. It could be a book he knows you'll love or something that reminds him of a special moment you shared.

Having been the victim of ableism and cruelly labeled the “white-haired monster” because of his albinism, Andrew struggles with the painful memories of his past. These experiences have left deep scars, making it difficult for him to trust and open up to others. However, he trusts you and is comfortable enough to lean on you for emotional support, finding solace in your presence.

Andrew’s past is a heavy burden he carries, and it’s not easy for him to talk about it. The wounds from being ostracized and misunderstood run deep, really deep. That being said, he’ll seem distant or reluctant to share his feelings. But with your gentle encouragement and unwavering support, he slowly begins to open up. It’s a gradual process, marked by small breakthroughs and quiet conversations where he reveals his inner turmoil. Your compassion acts as a balm for his wounded soul, helping him to heal bit by bit.

And if you reveal your own issues to him, Andrew gives you his full attention. He wants to be there for you just as you have been there for him. He may not always have the right words to say, but his presence and understanding are more than enough.

He might not be an expert in comforting others, but he genuinely tries his absolute best to make you feel better. His attempts might be awkward or clumsy, but they are always heartfelt. Whether it's sitting quietly by your side, offering a reassuring touch, or simply listening without interrupting, Andrew’s efforts show how much he cares.

He understands how much it means to have someone there during difficult times because he's been on the receiving end of your support. He wants to reciprocate that same level of care and understanding. His empathy runs deep, and even if he struggles to find the right words, his actions speak volumes. He might bring you a small token of comfort, like a warm cup of tea or a favorite book, as a way to show he's thinking of you.

In those moments when you need a shoulder to lean on, Andrew's there, providing a quiet, steady presence that offers a sense of calm and security. He knows the value of having someone who listens and understands, and he strives to be that person for you. His dedication to your well-being is evident in the way he prioritizes your needs and makes an effort to be there for you, just as you have been there for him. He wants to make you feel the same way you make him feel when he opens up about his own issues: understood, valued, and better.

If you ever want to surprise Andrew and watch him melt, gift him iris flowers. He has a special fondness for irises because someone once told him that iris will turn into a rainbow and carry kind souls to heaven.

So when you give him iris flowers, it’s not just a gift; it’s a gesture that genuinely touches his heart. The fact that these flowers come from you, the person he loves, makes the gesture even more meaningful. You’ll see his eyes light up and a smile spread across his face as he gently takes the flowers.

Andrew might hold the irises with a reverence that speaks volumes about how much this gesture means to him. He might even get a bit emotional from the simple yet profound act of receiving these flowers from you, evoking a deep sense of love and gratitude. In his quiet, heartfelt way, he’ll thank you, stumbling over his words as he tries to express just how much this means to him.

Your relationship is built on these little moments, these quiet acts of love that speak louder than any grand proclamation. It’s a partnership where both of you bring out the best in each other, healing wounds and creating a bond that’s deeply personal and profoundly touching. And if anyone asks, you can always joke that your love story started in a cemetery with a guy who’s more comfortable with the dead than the living—but who learned to cherish the living soul who loves him.

#idv x reader #idv x you #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss #idv andrew #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv grave keeper #grave keeper idv #I mainly play for the game and not the lore #so I actually had to go to his wiki and study him I really hope this isn’t out of character :(#if you’re reading this I hope today is treating you well <3 #finding out the reason why Andrew likes iris flowers so much actually warmed my heart that’s so cute

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yuwuta · 10 months ago

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bunny megumi except he’s bratty and annoying and he knows it and he likes it and somehow he ends up being the one to put a collar on you, leopard yuuta who’s normally anxious around people but he just melts into your touch and moves with a surprising amount of confidence and fluidity when he fucks you, puppy yuuji except he’s not really puppy because he lift probably four times his weight and throws you around like it’s nothing and he’s actually a little scary on the wrong days, but he definitely does bark. snow leopard satoru who knows he’s pretty and rare and people love him but it sounds sooo much better when he gets you to tell him that he’s pretty and you love him and wanna keep him, and back to megumi because while i’m here i have to mention wolf megumi and for the longest time you swear he’s a cat or a lynx hybrid because he’s sly like one and he preens and prods around you like one, but it definitely shows in the way he likes to bite and scent you and call you his mate when he’s about to cum. or whatever. if you even care

#etc etc etc.........#also back to something something weird hybrid reverse harem or whatever.#kitten reader + tiger yuuji + fox nobara + jaguar toge and megumi and yuuta are your keepers #and we can talk about them having a weird thing for kittens later. but whatever . i came here to mention the free use in this group #what wait who said that #jjk x reader #hybrids #💌

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

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I would PAY Simon to kidnap me and keep me as his pet

I love it so much

Please more when you get the chance (and bodyguard gaz, duh)

Hi! I have not been ignoring this ask, I was deciding what to gift you with. So, since no one has asked - I give you: reader’s reaction to the other two members of 141.

You warm up to Gaz the fastest. So fast, in fact, that Simon is almost jealous. You like Gaz because he seems like the only normal-ish one of the group. He seems genuinely a little apologetic that you got taken from somewhere and are being kept but, really, what could he possibly do in this situation? Nothing. Not against a guy like ghost. Never mind with Johnny on his team. And the cap…

Well, Gaz just tries not to stress you out. He talks to you not at you. Always says, “hi, how’ve you been?” And you’re so baffled by the normalcy of it that he instantly gets you replying and interacting. He makes everything about himself so non-threatening that you have no problem being in the same room as him right away. And he always brings you something. Not bribes, but things he thought you might like. A new ball of yarn, a grow-your-own mushrooms kit, a rock from the desert once.

When Simon asks, trying to get his envy under control you just shrug. “He seems nice.” And that’s that.

As for Price?

Oof.

Simon hasn’t seen you this scared since he first brought you here. The minute you lay eyes on Price from around the corner, you’re skittering off. Simon’s baffled. It’s not instant tolerance like Gaz, or instant dislike, like Johnny. It’s almost how you used to react to him, but this is extreme even compared to that. He even warned you that Price was coming; you didn’t seem concerned at all before that moment!

He finds you tucked up in your room, decidedly off limits and safe. When he asks, you make a miserable “I don’t know” sound.

“Will you come down?” he asks.

“No.”

“Can he come say hi?”

“No.”

Simon figures he’ll give you an hour to calm down. Your eyes were huge.

Eventually you do creep out - though only because you need the restroom. As you’re padding out, intending to barricade yourself again, who turns the corner but Simon’s captain. Worst part is, he’s between you and your bedroom, blocking you in at the end of the hall.

“It’s alright, girl, easy,” he tries to soothe, but you’ve already pancaked yourself to the far wall, breathing hard. “What’s got you so spooked, eh?”

You make a high, distressed noise, curling down and into the corner of when he slowly moves closer. You try to summon up the will to react like you usually do, any anger or offense or something.

He gets within arm’s reach and you slide to the floor, tucked into a ball. He shushes you, nonsense words and promises that he won’t hurt you. He’s not even doing anything; hasn’t done anything. It’s just how Simon would act. You don’t even know why you’re scared.

When you feel scarred knuckles against your cheek you react on instinct, whipping up, mouth open. You stop before you even get your teeth on him, deflating in instant. Everything in you saying Do Not Bite Him.

“Oh? You wanna take a chunk outta me?” he asks, sounding amused. He brushes the backs of his fingers over you lips, offering. “Go on then, if it’ll make you feel better, wild thing.”

You shy away, but there’s really nowhere else to go. Price just sits with you for a while, crouched down, petting at your hair and cheek and even your neck.

“Can I at least see your pretty eyes?” he coaxes.

You blink, swallow thickly, and then force yourself to look up at him. Have trouble maintaining eye contact but manage. For a few seconds anyway.

“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he chuckles, giving you one last pay. “Alright, I’ll let you scurry off now.” And then he stands, turns and walks away without looking back and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

#my writing #cod #asks #fanfiction #reader fic #thoughts™️#keeper ghost #kept pet ghost #ghost x reader #price cameo #Gaz cameo

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sleepy-fiction · 7 months ago

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Please, God

○ andrew kriess x gn!reader

○ 5.8K WORDS

syn: you're a wicked temptation he should be running from, but you make him so hard. Please, God, let him cum.

tgs: NSFW reader bottom, undisclosed sex and gn sex terms for reader, andrew overcomes fear of sex (religious oppression), loaded religious terms, masturbation, unprotected penetration, silly virus, andrew busts 7 million nuts cause hes sensitive as hell, cutesy fluff, comedic, comfort

a/n: I had so much fun writing this. It was entirely self-serving. but for those who are scared that this will be mostly angst, lit dw I try to balance comedy and a whole lot of romantic sex within it!! It's not meant to be a deep dive but more so a sexy comfort fic looll. pls give it a read it's super funny and cutesy and ofc, sexy as hell

⚰️⏳️🖐💦

Andrew knows he shouldn't. He's always set so behind others - he was born a monster - a sinner. He had to work harder to relieve the favor of his community, of his God. He can't stop now. He has to continue. But a wicked, beastly desire within him was stirring in his belly. Tormenting his soul. It raged like a fire within his heart, that sparked down brilliant flares to his loins.

He swallows thickly.

It all started when you came into town.

You were a foreigner, different in how you talked, spoke, and carried yourself. He could taste the sunny vibe you glittered as you talked to everyone, including him. He had learned from gossip that you were a traveling merchant, coming here to rest from your travels before you head to the capital. And though he tried to protect them from the contagious sin that was him- you never stopped talking to him.

You didn't stop either when you cornered him against the cemetery gate, demanding he homes to see you in your inn. Saying how cruel he was for running from you and assuming you didn't like his company for "forcing him away" as you call it.

You were so close, so angry, and so zealous about him visiting you. You demanded him to see you and even went as far as to confess that you loved his company- alone. He swallowed thickly. You said it all in innocence, but the way you made him feel wasn't. Your arm pinned him against the gate by his collar. All the while your face had such a serious expression he had never seen you wear before.

He said yes quickly because he wanted you away from him, so the glittering feelings would disappear. But you persisted, scolding him until you got your fill. You only stopped when you noticed his trembling breath and shaking hands.

Before you left, you told him one last thing, "Tomorrow evening. Dress nicely." He already knew what that invitation meant.

You were taking him to dinner.

If only you knew he was shaking, not because he was afraid of you but because of the wickedness in his body. He was afraid of how excited he was. Afraid of how his body seemed to tingle in a way, he thought he shut down when he was a preteen.

If only you saw the way he squirmed.

If only you could see him now.

Andrew stood naked from the waist down in his home's small bathroom, his hands tugging and pulling at his amazingly wet cock. His clothes bunched at his ankles. His dick dribbled and spat up like a hungry animal, creating erotically slick sounds for every tug.

He just had to make it go away.

His cock was boiling in his hands, his face burning a brilliant red as his free hand held up his shirt. His eyes slapped lidded, moans barreling out at the most sensitive touches.

It normally only took a few pumps, but God was this taking long.

He leaned back against the wall of his bathroom, sinking his back into it and lazily drooping his head down to look at his weeping cock.

He dropped his shirt, and his free hand greedily met his other in massaging his cock, the two-handed squeezing and rubbing causing his back to arch off the wall as his moans filled the bathroom.

Please, he hopes God--

"Just touching there?"

He hears the phantoms of your voice egging him on from the depths of his wicked mind. He gasped at the idea, the sound so clear in his mind that he even looked for you and found nothing. But it continued, "Play with your tip, while you stroke yourself." He groaned painfully at the thought.

He leaned down to watch himself. Obeying as his fingers fluttered, light circles into his tip, while his other hand stroked himself viciously. The friction had him cry out, his legs buckling and shivering under the pressure.

He was going to come.

His moans peaked, his mind betraying him. As he imagined you, staring at him with that intense glare. He bursts, shooting hot, thick streams that splatter against the toilet.

With a dry moan, he leans back against the wall panting viciously.

"What? You're finished just like that," you egg him in his thoughts.

He looks down frantically, staring at his still achingly hard cock.

A whimper flees from his lips, "Oh no..." He tries to shut his eyes, praying it all will go away.

"No what?"

"No... I can't keep..."

"Touch it, Andrew." You command.

He bucks his hips forward in delight. "No." He rushes out of his bathroom, haphazardly pulling up his clothes safely around his waist, rushing to his bed. He barrels into it face first, groaning at the minuscule friction it gives him. Uncontrollably his hips rock into the bed, his poor cock mewling for pleasure.

"Andrew," you tease, he moans in delight, "I want you-"

"No!" He yells. Andrew barrels up to his feet, running out of his home deep into the dead of night. "That house's cursed," he yells into the late air for none to hear. His feet clamored against the pavement, eyes following the streetlights, as he ran to the only place he knew.

Andrew ran into the local Inn before he even knew where he was headed. He burst through the large oak doors and was greeted by the blinding lights of the warm building. He hissed and covered his eyes with his hand. Yet, his bursting into the doors was not a pleasant sight for the innkeeper.

"Oh. It's Kriess," she grumbled. Amid his panic, he was delighted to note that she at least used his name.

But the delight quickly warped to horror.

Why did he come here?

What sort of wicked spirit is possessing him right now?

"I-I shouldn't be here," He squeaks, but it falls on deaf ears.

"Room Nine, third floor," the lady grumbles.

"W-What!" He barked.

"Are you raising your damn tone at me?"

"No, I would never--"

"Get out of here! Get you, white devil!" She barrels as she points to the staircase.

With a terrified gasp, Andrew ran up the stairs, not stopping until he hit the third floor. By now, he was shivering, his teeth clamoring together, his heart beating so fast it could burst. Paranoia ensues him, as his eyes flicker down the hall, left to right with no real substance.

White devil, white monster. He's here acting on his demonic instincts, trying to satisfy the needs of his flesh. What sort of prayer would get him out of this? He needs to know. Please, God he--

"Oh? If my eyes are correct, that's Andrew Kriess!"

You spoke.

He heard your chipper voice mumble. His whole body takes a much-needed deep breath. A mewl of delight escapes him, as his mind floods with serenity.

It was the real you this time.

His head turned to see you at your doorstep, with a cozy robe on. You were preparing for bed, even now you looked so radiant. Your eyes were filled with fondness that fondness that made his heart squeeze. "I was just going out to get - wait. What's wrong?" Your face droops instantly.

You move so quickly to get so dear to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and staring deep into his eyes with that intense look on your face. That's when his grateful tranquility flutters into pure embarrassment.

With a growl, he stammers, eyes trying not to look into yours. His hands fly up as he tries to speak, "I- I thought... It- was," yet nothing of substance comes out.

"Hey? Andrew? What the hell--"

"D-Dont curse," He squeaks as his face grows impossibly red.

"Well, I'm going to need you to calm down," you say, reaching and grabbing his hand. A disgusting squelch bubbles out from where your hands meet as a stocky substance smeared into your palm. "What the hell!" You shriek as you pull your hand away.

Andrew's heart fails him as he screams out horrifically, grabbing your forearms before you can look at your palms. He pins your hands down to your side as he leans forward, his head bows to the floor, but you're painfully aware of how sticky your palms are, and how sticky your forearms now are too. How hot red his ears are.

"Oh mercy! M-Mercy! You must believe me- and do not hate me!" He blabbers.

"What are you smearing on me, Andrew?" It's your squeak now, your face flushing with confusion and embarrassment. You try to pull away and successfully slip from his grasp, but that cold slick makes a disgusting sound and smears worse down your arms. "Ew! God Andrew, what is that!" You howl as you rush back to your room.

"N-No! Let me wash your hands, close your eyes!" He nearly screams, and that's when panic truly settles in for you.

"No!" You rush into your bathroom as you hear Andrew enter and shut the door behind him. You flicker on the lights to your bathroom, as whatever it is begins to rapidly crust and dry on your arms. "What the hell!" You cursed. Your mind raced.

"Oh please! Please," you hear Andrew cry as he fits up a beat red hand to cover your eyes.

You screech and dodge it. "No more touching people, Andrew!" You cry and notice how his hands are crusting now, too.

"I'm s-sorry! A spirit overcame me and I lost to it," he whimpers impossibly broken. His face is impossibly red, as humiliated tears prick the corners of his eyes. As you look at him, it all slowly begins to click.

"Andrew. Please do not tell me this is y--"

Before the words could fly out, he squeaks and grabs your crusty arms, turning on the faucet to the sink and burying your hands into it. He mingles soap and water into his hands, building suds and before laying them onto your arms. He had a hand slung around you, trapping you between him and the faucet so you wouldn't run anywhere. "Just let me wash you," he whispers so lowly.

You swallow thickly, as arousal and curiosity blooms in your body. "Alright, but after this you'll have to tell me what happened. And without any of the fancy mumbo-jumbo spiritual bollocks," You hissed.

He squeaks, his voice budding soft, "D-Don't curse..." His head leans and rests its weight on yours.

You've never had Andrew this close to you before. The water was perfectly warm, his touch was gentle as he stroked your skin, not leaving any side of you sticky with his... Juices. His hands were much larger and gritty than yours, rugged with the callouses of a working man. Yet they turned pink under the warm water, reminiscent of how pale he was. And you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his nervous, humiliated breath against the side of your face, too focused on touching and massaging you than actually washing you off.

He cupped warm water and splashed away the suds, but still, he held you there, softly running his hands along your arm again.

You're so warm and soft.

"That's enough, Andrew," you scolded, aware of how intimate it all was.

"Ah," He squeaked as he turned the water off. And you took the liberty to free yourself. "Don't look at me," he whimpers.

You sigh deeply, staring at his shoes. "You walked your shoes into my Inn. And you smell like the cemetery. Take them off and go shower, there's a robe there that you could borrow," You grumble, watching as he instantly fumbles out of his boots. "I'm going to clean the floors."

"A-Alright!"

🖐💦

The hot steam blew up from the shower head as he stood meekly in the porcelain bathtub. He raked his hands through his blond locks, feeling the hot water run down from his scalp to dribble at his feet. The bathroom at the Inn was much more modern than his smile water basin and shower pipe. He really could sit down in the bathtub if he wanted. Was he deserving to use your bathroom like this?

Oh God, he's in your bathroom, showering- naked.

The heat rushed to his senses as the reality of it all started to settle in. His face blew a stark red as he leaned against the tiled walls, shuffling a shaken breath. His forehead messed into the wall, as he leaned his palms against it.

He was touching himself to you.

That forgotten heat was still there, slowly creaking. His mind raced with it all, the idea, the sounds, the sights. He sucked in a breath one of his hands sneaking down to touch his half-sleeping cock again. It ruptured awake at the minuscule touch, aching into his palm. He swallowed thickly.

Were you naked under that robe?

He hissed at the thought, his eyes rolling back in delight, a subtle chuckle airing from his lips.

Your skin was so soft when he was touching you earlier. You were between him. He could smell you. You smelled of exotic fruits, the time the rich only seemed to know. His hand began to pump his length.

This was so evil of him.

He was letting his flesh win, but it felt so good. His hips bucked into his hand as your name moaned out from his lips. He was so hard he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his palm. His cock weeping slick in a constant stream mingling in with the hot water and dribbling down the drain.

He wants to touch you like that, in different places too. It's so wrong but God, please, if you're watching him, just look away for tonight. He grips his base in a tough squeeze.

You're so amazing, so beautiful. Just let him touch you a bit. He swallows. "Please," he whimpers out into the air, his thrusting grew animalistic, the pleasure tingling in his back as his grunts grew loud.

He needs you, he doesn't care anymore, he needs you.

He's been needing you for so long.

When you first came here, he spotted you on his grocery trip. You were so stunning that the light seemed to cast a lovely halo on your sweet features. You were so stunning when you rushed to him, to compliment his looks, he moans out at the memory.

He's going to cum. Oh God-

A loud knock split his thoughts into two as he yelped, slapping his water-mixed slick-filled hand over his mouth. You call, "Andrew?"

He yelps again at the fluids on his chin, and at the alarming sound of your voice, "What's going on in there? You're taking a long time," you speak.

He frantically swipes his face and hand again, crying out, "I'll be out!" He immediately shuts the water off, hopping out and to the towels to wipe himself off.

"Andrew... I'm worried about you," you call, and his heart bursts.

He longs for you.

He stares at himself in the mirror, feeling his hard-on twitch.

"You know... It's quite terrifying for you to suddenly appear at my door. And frankly, you looked terrified, I thought... I thought someone had done something to you again..." You whisper, he can bearly hear you over his heart. His eyes flicker between the reflection of his eyes back to him, searching within himself.

He lays his palm against his heart.

"I don't like it when you censor yourself either. I hate it when you act like a holy fraud," You said. His hand clenches to a fist. Him, a fraud? "There's nothing in the world you could say that'd I hate. If there was, that's for me to decide. Not for you to decide for me... So tell me what's going on with you," you whisper into the wood of the door.

"I don't want you hurting. You're so sweet and kind. You're not a devil at all! And it pisses me the hell off whenever -" Your words get cut short, and the door opens, revealing Andrew, eyes lidded, wrapped up in a white rope.

He looks good in the color.

It's a shame he never wears it.

"Don't curse," he whispers, water dripping from his head to his shoulders. His chest heaving with every breath, desire flooding his gaze, lips cracked open breathlessly.

You're taken aback, your blinks are furious. "Sit," you murmur as you bring him to your bed. You both sit facing each other, your arms crossed.

You watch as his face heats up, as his eyes flicker up to see yours in a daze. You suck in an enamored breath, "Tell me."

"Y-You... You provoke my flesh," he whispers it earthly, leaning forward to you, placing a hand by your hip on the bed. Your eyes flicker between his, your blinks slow. "I... want you carnally. I desire you. I pray... N-No. I want you deeply." He's inching closer and closer with a sweet gentle voice, his other hand cupping your arm dear to him. Your hand finds his chest, glimpses of his pale skin underneath his robe. "I couldn't control myself tonight... I'm not sure I want to..."

"Andrew," you hush you between lidded eyes.

"I beg you, let me touch you, please," he's so close to you now, letting his nose brush against the tip of your ear, lips brushing against it for every word, breath mingling and fueling your desire.

You swallow so harshly, grabbing onto his shoulder for stability. He continues, "I can't help but think, isn't it so wrong for a man like me to want this? It's a wicked desire," you hear his confidence falter, and for some reason, it hurts more.

"Don't give up on yourself like that... Succumb to your desires, Andrew. Succumb," you whisper scantily, gripping chunks of his robe and slipping a leg on the bed to fully face him.

He groans viciously, the primal sound sending waves of pleasure through your body. You make the first move, licking a stripe up his neck, dragging the sharpness of your canines gently against his sensitive skin. He moans deeply, the beautifully breathy sound forces you to clench around nothing. It's been a while for you, traveling so much, you haven't had time to take care of yourself.

You lean up to suck briefly on his chin, fluttering your lips closer and closer to his own. But you stop just before to gaze into his eyes. He leans in for you, pressing your sweet lips together. His lips are deliciously delicate, the friction like a much-needed quench. It's barely long before the kiss deepens, as you feed him your tongue. Your soft muscle rushes in to meet his, as you swallow up his yelps and mewls.

His tongue gains its confidence, the shiveringly pleasing feeling of his foreign tastebuds sculpting up your hot mouth. You slurp on his sweet tongue. He grunts and bucks into nothing. Your lips pull away sloppily as he places a hand on you, pushing back onto the bed. "Mmh, wait let's get comfortable," you whisper.

He feels himself ache in his robe

He pulls away from you to follow you as the two of you shuffle to the heart of the smaller bed. "Lay down, I'm going to show you a few things," you tease.

"But I wanna' touch you," he begs into the air.

You shiver intensely at the sound.

"You will," you press him back into the bed, his head resting on his pillows.

He stares at you in disbelief and wonder, the cutest expression dotting his face. You brush his hair out of his face, smiling at his surprise. He's hiding a strong jaw beneath that meek bang, hid beautiful sculpted nose leading to two budding, pink tulips. You shuffle in between his legs, pulling the cord to his rope. His breath hitches, his chest rising and falling with a vigor to run a marathon.

The question pops into your mind as you pull back part of his robe to reveal his lovely chest. "When's the last time you've ever touched yourself, Kriess," you mumble.

"Uh... I suppose... I might have been fourteen," he blinks.

You giggle in disbelief, "Ten years? What a good boy you are. So holy," you hush.

He grunts viciously, "P-Please stop. Just touch me, touch me... Touch me..." He begs, shutting his eyes weakly.

You pull back his robe fully, flashing his wonderfully tone body to you. He was so muscular, so big in stature - the true power of a grave keeper. Your hands tail down his body to his hip, your eyes immediately shifting to toggle the incredibly pink cock of his. His tip was a bullied red as he pulled and twitched into the air. Dribbles of pre-cum touched his belly, and the wet scene was erotically sloppy. He was leaking like a faucet, and it sent your organs aflame.

You groaned at the sight, "So wet for me, Andrew. I'm scared I'll get you pregnant," you tease.

A humiliated squeak flies from his lips, "I-I- I'm sorry. I'm not so s-sure as to how you'd be able to--" but you wouldn't let him continue his lowly apologies as you bent over and pressed a deep kiss into the base of his needy cock.

He moans out into the open, his hands instantly flying to entangle themselves in your hair. You lick up a stripe to his tip, never breaking your stare at his gorgeous face. You pull back, slipping your robe off tantalizingly slow, watching as he whimpers. He gasped at your sweet body, his cock twitching to be touched more.

You gave him something to look at. You smirked.

You leaned down back to his pretty dick, grabbing it at the base and taking the tip into your hot mouth. He was average in length but thick as it filled your mouth. You greedily slurped up his runny juices, closing your eyes with a content sigh as you guided him deeper and deeper into your mouth. His hands clenched chunks of your hair.

The feeling of him entering your mouth was euphoric, as his sweet gasps and moans filtered the air. The sounds were on the quieter side but were sharp and filled with bliss. He chuckled out a delighted sound, his chest heaving as you began to suck.

You twirled your tongue at his piping-hot muscle, hollowing your cheeks and drinking him up. He moaned sweetly into the air, as his legs flew up on each side of you. You bobbed on him, carefully massaging all that you couldn't reach with your hand, lapping him up as if you were thirsty.

"Oh God!" He wailed. His grip grew blood-hot on your hair, the feeling enough for you hiss. You bobbed him viciously in retaliation, the overstimulation forcing his head to lean back. "C-Can't. Can't..." He groaned, he bucked deep into your mouth, gagging you as he held you there with his large fists.

He trusted deep into you, his back arching off the bed, his sounds vulgar and pleading. "F-Fuck, fuck. Please, please, please," he cried out a mantra of fucked out whimpers, riding his high at your expense. His voice picked up strongly, swear dipping down his forehead.

With one final buck into the back of your throat, Andrew pulled out, releasing into the hot crevice of your mouth, his hands releasing you, as they flopped to the side. His rugged fulfilled groans filled the air.

You slipped off him, coughing as you gagged on the intense mixture of your saliva and his slick. "I'm so sorry," you heard him cry as you wiped your lips.

You giggled tiredly, your voice hoarsely adjusting back to the feeling of a dick-free throat. "You're so lovely, 'drew," you leaned up to kiss his lips. The lingering taste of himself meeting him.

You redirected his hands to your chest, and greedily, he squeezed and tugged at anything he could, breaking the kiss so his eyes could oggle you with the passion of a starved man.

His fingers prodded at your nipples until they were hard, then they slipped down your body, feeling the curve of your belly. He instantly shot up as his hand reached down to cup your sex. You giggled out an estranged moan, reaching up to embrace him over his shoulders. "You're so needy," you tried to deflect, pulling your sex away from him.

"Please, jus- please lemme' touch you." He cries out like it pains him.

He the two of you up, not even needing an answer as he pulls you into his lap.

You whimper, leaning into his shoulder as his fingers massage your sex, his tongue frantically passionate. You're deliciously warm to him, and you feel your sex begin to slick his hand. He laughs blissfully at the feeling. The sound of it is soft and filled with childish delight as you rock into him. He speeds up his barrage of you, the friction causing you to rock into his hands, lapping at his neck with your tongue like a dog. Your sex feels painfully hot and messy as you buck into him like a wild animal.

You feel your hole begin to ache, as you push all the way into him, redirecting his hands to touch the puckering hole. "In there," he squeaks suddenly, but you leave no room as you grind down into him.

"Andrew, I was suppose to be devouring you," you whined.

"Haha, it's alright. We can try again later," he twists to see your face, pressing a loving peck against your lips. You blink in shock, his gaze filled with gentleness.

"I haven't had anything up there in a very long while," you whisper into his lips.

"Oh golly..."

⏳️⚰️🖐💦

You arch into his fingers, gripping chunks of the bedsheets. Andrew has you laid out beneath him, his thick, burly fingers playing in your thick walls. You huff into him, his fingers themselves coated in a dangerous mixture of your slick, his cum, and his spit. He's knuckle deep within you, his middle and ring finger plunging into you passionately.

His gaze never left your figure, not even for a second, as he drank up the sight of your trembling form. He leans down between your legs, planting a kiss on your sex the way he's seen you done his mere moments prior. "Andrew," you cry with all your might.

"You're so aroused... Am I that tempting to you?" He purrs, his eyes lidded, hair tucked behind his ear. He's gotten too confident.

You couldn't deny him for a second, "Mmhm, yes, Andrew."

He shudders, his name sounds so good from your lips.

He can't take it anymore.

He slips his finger out of your hole, grabbing himself as he lines up to fit inside. His tip bulged against your entrance, and you puckered kisses against the weeping muscle. He pressed against you, his head breaching into your body.

"Aah! Oh," you hissed. Peeking out from closed eyes, Andrew's face was tensed tight. His lips were glued, his eyes lidded, eyebrows furrowed and his cheeks were filled with air. His strong hands reached and grabbed your hips, squeezing so hard it stung deliciously. The familiar subtle burn of stretching as he pushed himself halfway in.

It was finally then did he released his first moans, the sound was strained and needy, his mind held by the single thread that he should hold himself back.

But by the time you sink into his base, your hot, warm, slicked-up insides are screaming at his senses. He lost all sorts of sensitivity. "Fuck," He cried, his voice burly, as he began to pump at a decent pace.

His head grew heavy as he plummeted onto his hands on top of you, his expression erotic. His toned pale body, his strong arms on each side of your head, his eyes that briefly rolled to the back of his head. "Oh, god," he groaned out. The sound fighting against the shameful sounds of your sexes bumping.

His moans abruptly peak again, his eyes rolling back with stuttering hips. Suddenly an abruption of cum spills into you, making you shudder an arch. "S-Sorry, tryna' hold back... Jus' hold on a bit more," he moans, speech slurred, drunk off your goodness. He was still hard after cumming inside you.

He pulls out slowly, all the way down to the head before plunging right in, causing you to cry and wrap your legs around his waist. You were extra slick now, with how his cock fed you more of his juices. His grip on your hips was intense as he buried his head into your shoulder, thrusting quicker as the heaving sensation of you eating up his cock overtook him.

Every sight, every smell, every taste and touch from you, sent him teetering over the edge. This was so dirty, so vulgar, so shameful, that it made his hips stutter in spiteful bliss. Like an animal, he pumped into you at the pace he liked the most, fueled by your irregular, overstimulated moans that rewarded him. You wrapped your arms around him in the tango, burying your nails into his skin as he hit your sweet spot, your jaw falling slack in disbelief.

He was so thick, so filling. Your belly was swarming in satisfaction, feeling all of your inside move and squirm to his every wild buck. He pulled out of your shoulder and pinned your head between him again. His reddish, blueish eyes found you like a greedy hawk. He was completely fucked out, staring down deep into your eyes, not looking away for a second, daring you to keep the gaze.

You whimpered and cried, holding onto his forearms, squeezing and jerking around his cock. He grunted deeply, etches of a delighted smile ghosting his fucked out expression. He was glistening with sweat, a non-stop pent-up sex-machine.

You growled in fear, feeling your orgasm overtake you. You arched down deep into his body, as you spilled out, crying out a useless, "An-Andreew," that fell on deaf ears.

"Please, p-please, please, G-God... Just a little more," he whispers to you. He presses his kisses on your cheek. But truly, he's unsure of who he's calling out to anymore.

He slows for your orgasm, grinding on you wildly, riding out your high as your head collapses back on the pillow.

He pulls out and turns you on your side, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it over his shoulder. "Just a little more, please," he cries, he's still hard, still twitching. He peppers sweet kisses on your eyelids, nuzzling his nose into your warmth.

"F-Fine, Andrew. Don't make me say it," you stutter, your face heating in this embarrassing position.

He leans to suckle on your collarbone, distracting you almost until you feel his abrasive length slip into your body again. You mewl out, listening to his shaky breath deep in your ears. He rests his head against the side of yours, your knee hitting your shoulder. "Y-You're very flexible," he praises with a giggle, it almost soothes the anger you feel at his wildness.

You can't even retaliate when he begins to thrust slower, as his wandering lips slip around to pepper kisses on your earlobe, your jawline, your neck, and even on the back of your leg. Your eyes roll at the tantalizingly slow thrusts, all paired with the sweet kisses. He gently cups your chin, turning you to face him as he leaves an earnest peck on your lips. "I love you," he whines childishly.

You giggle in surprise, "I know. I love you e-even more, Kriess," you manage between your pants.

"Oh, God," he whispers, bucking into you with a stutter. You gasp in shock, overstimulation brimming through your body.

"Don't cur- urse," you somehow manage out, grabbing chunks of the bedsheets.

He laughs lazily and begins to pump up the pace, leaning up and fucking into you fervently. You squeeze down on him at the sudden abrasiveness, arching and crying out with all of your body.

The wooden bed creaks, a sound that causes Kreiss' breath to hitch. A sound so dangerous you could see the thought process behind it. He pulls almost out and slams deeply into you again, your toes curling painfully- and yet to your dismay, the bed creeks again.

He laughs blissfully again, stuttering out between moans, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," he grunts, pistoning into you roughly, desperate to hear the animalistic creaking of the beneath you too. You cry out in overstimulation, your own orgasm building up, ready to spike.

"Please, pleugh... God- gonna... Oh!" A shiver overtakes him as his thrusts get sloppy and stuttering, as you squeeze and milk him of everything he has, your own high reaches its peak at the same time you're bursting with cum deep inside you, as Andrew thrusts into his base and grinds deeply against you, forcing you into an intense orgasm. "C-Cummin' cah..." You watch as sporadic twitch trails from his back, down his arms, and sparks into his fingertips.

His face is completely fucked out, his jaw relaxed, eyes rolled up to the heavens still in prayer. He finally, sweaty, heaving, pulls out of you, his penis going completely soft.

You've never been a religious person, but seeing him finally soft almost turned you into one. You were saved!

You dropped your head back onto the pillow your leg slipping off him as falls back onto his ass. You stare at the wall as you catch your breath, the room suddenly aware of how it smells like sweat and fluids. His cumming so much within you is going to be a problem, but a problem for later you.

Andrew weakly reaches and pats your ankle, and you turn to gaze at him. He's smiling panting out, pure joy bursting on his sweet face. You knew you were going to be so sore, and so tired in the morning but. It was hard to stay mad at a face like that.

He crawls over to you, sitting next to you as he rolls you onto your back. His fingers subconsciously rub circles into your belly as he mutters, "That was heavenly..." He hushes into your lips as he kisses them sweetly.

"Mmh... Andrew," you mutter.

He giggles ecstatically, leaning down and placing a hand on each side of you. He kisses up and down your neck dearly.

"I want to do this with you more," he mutters shyly in that familiar, raspy, airy tone.

And just like that, you were no longer religious.

"Please God save me," You cry playfully.

"Don't curse," he giggles into your neck.

#andrew kriess #identity v #idv #idv grave keeper #idv andrew #identity v x reader #andrew kriess x reader #grave keeper idv #identity v gravekeeper #andrew idv #andrew kriess smut #smut #idv smut #i think this turned out ass

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nyxthedeity · 4 months ago

Text

𝔾𝕒𝕫𝕖

Synopsis: She never liked loud noises, it drives her crazy. That's also a reason why she'll never go to quidditch matches and just have her friends tell her all about it in the comfort of their quiet dorms. But with her love growing in her heart for the Gryffindor's Keeper, she found herself in the stands after all. That's not what's weird though, it's how the noise dulled when their eyes met.

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Gryffindor!femreader

Word Count: 1,147

🏆❤️‍🔥🧹🧣

Y/n always found comfort in silence. It's where she can hear her thoughts, where she can hum her favorite tune. That's the reason why she's always missing in action in the stands of the Gryffindor house in quidditch matches, the celebratory parties, or in the circle of students when somebody's fighting. Just not her thing, despite being sorted into the roaring crowd of Gryffindors.

That's one of the cons of into being such loud house when all you want is peace you'd typically get from sneaking out past curfew and sitting by the great lake, the sound of splashing water, the soft rustle of trees, and the occasional hum of birds. The pros is that she get to see a beautiful sight of her fancied Keeper. Oliver Wood.

Having him as her crush is quite easy, just had to pretend that she can't faint from a mere glimpse of him, all sweaty, either a frown or a big smile depending on how the match or their training concluded. Either way, she just needs to stop her heart from jumping out of her chest to run to Oliver like a puppy. She just needs to keep her gaze to herself, which was hard, considering how he looks so great flying in the air with the golden sunlight hitting him. She likes how his eyes squint in an attempt of pushing out the blinding light in his perfect brown eyes. She swears that sight brings her somewhere.

The smile that was lost in the midst of a bad day could easily be restored by just the silhouette of him. Or that Scottish accent of his whenever him and his friends walk past her table in the library. They once shared a glance, a simple glance that may or may not have sent her brain circuit haywire. Maybe his eyes does sent her somewhere. ---

Oliver wasn't so different or oblivious to the occurances Y/n was going through.

Oliver was now used to himself being the source of noise, taken that every training, he'd always have his voice raised up to bark commands or advices to his team. But whenever he's flying high up above the ground, his eyes always knows when Y/n passes by as his gaze immediately goes down to her. His mind immediately tries to find a face in the stands during matches unbeknownst to him. It's like looking for someone but doesn't have any idea who it is, then being disappointed when not seeing it. Something's definitely wrong.

Sharing a class with Y/n, he sat a few seat before her. It was weird how his eyes found her figure scribbling in her parchment before looking at anything else. She must've felt a pair of eyes burning through the back of her skull and turned around, landing her gaze to Oliver. He, instead of looking away, can't seem to tear his gaze off. He sent a nod before turning to his friends.

That nod was enough motivation for Y/n for like a year. An acknowledgement? An interaction? Please give her more. The butterflies in her stomach was palpable, unrivaled, blissful. A smile suddenly appeared in her face and never left despite the obvious bore of the subject, feeling more motivated than ever before. ---

Days passed by had left him in daze from how his thoughts were flooded with confusion on how a single girl made his world turn upside-down

Now this is getting weird on Oliver's part. Why in the world does he recognize her face everywhere? Why does he find himself intruigued? You were just a quiet Gryffindor he never sees in the stands to support any matches of his. A normal student living a normal life. Yet why?

He found her in the library again, scanning though some textbooks about Ancient Runes, he sat quietly in a safe distance, eyes drifting to her every now and then. He thinks he's sick in the head because why is he ogling like some sort of a stalker? And why does he like that frown on her face. Why in the Merlin's beard is he having butterflies in his stomach? No words nor sounds is proof of how the butterflies in his stomach evolved to a whole circus as he continued to stare like some lovesick puppy to it's owner. This is not him at all.

Even if his words do fail him, he's pretty sure it won't even be a bother. His eyes would surely give him away… Emotion easily spills out of the eyes the moment you feel it, and if this goes on, he won't be any better. He doesn't feel like himself, but he doesn't mind it. He feels different, but only when she's near. He wants to be closer, yet the burn of his desire was slow. He's seriously setting up his own slow burn novel. Despite that, he finds himself completely going with it's flow. Completely letting his world slowly circulate in a random girl named Y/n that was living a peaceful life that he may or may not just ruin.

Similar thoughts flooded his mind now that they're about to make their appearance for the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. That's not good as when he's giving his original and rough pep talk, he often pause to push the though of her possibly be there for absolutely no resolute reason in the back of his mind.

Y/n was not having fun, too. Her bestfriend, Nicole, a huge Gryffindor supporter in these times, mananged to somehow drag her in this very chaotic and loud crowd. The game haven't even started and their cheers is already so deafening. Her mind was throbbing and she was a centimeter close to punching this random guy beside her who was shouting so hard that the only thing left for him to do is to swallow a microphone. Definitely pushing her at the edge.

The Gryffindor quidditch team now flew into the air and into their position, her eyes immediately settled on his. She was taken by surprised when his eyes are already looking at her.

And it was weird. Not because of the fact that his eyes looked like it was just finding hers, too, but the fact that everything seemed to fade away. The guy beside her suddenly quieted down, the boos of the opposing house also faded away. All she can hear is her heartbeat and the wind passing through. Is this some wandless magic of his? To severely make her hooked on him for so long? For her to not see nor hear anyone but him? She imagined them so suddenly, dancing in the middle of the hall, dancing in circles with their hands intertwined. That delusion suddenly feels so real. He gave a smile that she thinks is a step in making that fantasy real.

Oliver never felt so eager to win. 🏆❤️‍🔥🧹🧣 Alright! Second fic is here! I am so happy with how my first fanfic turned out that I had to make another one. Though I think this can be better so you can message me if you have advices or suggestions, I'll be so happy to receive them! I hope I some how satisfy your imagination, sweeting! Feel free to request similar things or for a whole different character! Your dearest Author, NyxTheDeity

#harry potter #fanfics #hogwarts #gryffindor #author #readers #fem reader #x reader #oliver wood #keeper #quidditch #oliver wood x reader #song inspired #fiction #romance #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses #wizarding world

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mari-alune · 6 months ago

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"You can do it, sweet thing," waiter more Trapper, Keeper brain rot please :9 fic by @tinypandacakes, as always >w<

#call of duty #könig #konig cod #könig cod #cod #trapper keeper #call of duty fanart #cod fanart #cod mw2 #konig x reader #konig x you

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bleedingichorhearts · 26 days ago

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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

“I just changed the titles. The first one is a prologue. This is more set in the future, but that should be clear with how the chapter changes? I mean, last one is prologue. Here’s an continuation after about a year.😭” - Ichor

Summary - “Simply walking the halls of a defective mansion. You are suddenly met with new things.”

“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000.” - Tagged

TW // Neglect, Predator.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Prologue} • {Chapter II}

Your hands are behind your back as you walk straight down one of the mansions corridors. A gleaming white tile glaring at you each time you pass and wide window that brings in a reflective glare of the sun into the home. Something you honestly hate of this modern mansion. Too much white for your tastes, and well the people that lived inside of it, but that couldn’t be clear enough already. Yet, your not one to purely judge people and nature itself- Well… unless those Golden Knights count as something… unnatural.

Its weird though, you have never really addressed them as their original titles: Adeptus Custodes or just Custodes in short. You have just been mentally calling them “Golden Knights.” Your pretty sure it was because you practically grew up under their eyes, and your younger, innocent self couldn’t fathom nor pronounce Adeptus Custodies. So your little mind settled on what was closer: Golden Knights. Knights also had happened to one of the things you admired then and well now. Admittedly, you like to think of a more… characteristic knight now since you figured out how exactly knights where back in the 12th century. It was a very stark contrast between a little fairytale and the real thing. All the more reason to avoid the Golden Knights though. You’re not sure how they act besides being annoying statues, and trying to follow you are despite your inner turmoil.

Maybe you should just settle for a War World II soldier instead? At least they cared for their nurses… Well, in the movies they did. You didn’t have enough information in written history to claim such. Maybe that is something you could figure out in the time being? Learn a bit more about War World II? You know you have heard of the Astarte's being first sighted there… Maybe that will allow you to get more information on the Golden Knights in your home er- household? No, those words don’t seem right to call this false security of a home…

You pause in your steps; in the middle of the hallway. Your head slightly down as you eye the shiny tile. Your mind in a sudden deep thought. What would you even call this household? Certainly not the Last name of the family, the blood is too mixed and… judging. You felt like they didn’t even deserve the honor of a last name. So, what would you call this… corruption?

‘Dysfunctional? Toxic? Tumultuous? Unstable?’ You almost amuse yourself with those definition's.

“Auntie?” A little, childish voice brings you out of your thoughts. Blinking, your back straightens up a bit again at your other- rather only friendly title you’ve been called here. Eyes flickering down to a little girl behind you, no more than 4 years old. Her wavy, strawberry hair stopping at just her shoulders; her sea green eyes innocent of youth. “Little Eden” you like to call her- mentally. Selectively mute you chosen to be. If you can’t talk in the home; voice your opinion's… Why bother talking at all?

You remember the first time you had met little Eden though. How her little fingers, grasped around your pointer finger while she tried to eat at her other hand, slobbering all over it. Her little cheeks chubby with cute fat, and her eyes a bit puffy with the cry’s for attention she desperately needed. Yet, she seemed to calm at your mere presence. Quieting down to soft sounds of nibbles. A few gnawing “yah, yah, yahs” leaving her. It would have been cute sight if it weren’t for the thought of the whys and hows she was crying for attention in the first place.

You were simply wandering the night halls of the mansion again. A routine you usually do to keep yourself and other things in check. Another party being hosted by your father as the walls thrum with vibrations, and through all that noise? You can hear a faint cry of displeasure. A cry of a newborn that you knew that was, and had come into the world, but just was never allowed to the hospital to see the brith of the new addition. So, you had to settle on patiently waiting for the time you would be able to see her without the foul glares and words of the family that might change her perspective of you at day one. It just… wasn’t a risk you were willing to take just to see someone new, but that wasn’t the thing you were most worried about. It was how the child was crying their heart out, wanting, seeking, needing attention. Their parent no where in sight, no doubt joining that damn party, and you’re not sure what scares you. The child’s obvious neglect or how you feel like you would be another failure to someone else. Even if they weren’t supposed to rely on you.

You sigh out, trying to calm your thoughts before your body would start to shake in anxiety. A hum leaving you to acknowledge the little one behind you. Your body turning a bit to give her your attention. Her eyes brightening up at your simple movements after she rubbed her eyes with her palms. Your eyes flickering to the shimmer of gold behind her, ignoring the… What was he again? A Shadow Keeper? Did she just wake up from a nap?

“Hi, auntie!” She greets you again, bounding up to you on her little legs. Her hands coming out to grasp at your pants. A huge smile on her face, and you’re not sure of what to make of it. No one has ever smiled so brightly at you before. Your brain thinks “logically;” to protect yourself, even from a child, thinking this was a trick. While your heart craves for such actions. Yet, you know better to have your heart to lead you, but it doesn’t mean you would neglect anything- anyone that would show you a smidge of kindness in this chaotic world.

Your eyes flicker over to the Shadow Keeper again. His form slow, basking in the shadows that a part of their armor seamlessly absorbs. His red visor softly glowing, even in the brightest areas, and it never fails to pull a shiver down your spine. These beings were so unnerving, but they have shown nothing to… oppose that. Opposite, really? You think? The people just somehow accept these… things that just appear out of no where, didn’t they think that was a bit suspicious? You weren’t at all judgmental of them nor combatant of them. You just wanted to know their origin, their purpose. Everything has it purpose you believe, but you can’t find anything to support your own ideals of them. Not even with the normal Astarte's. You just find they are kind of like different species: Primaris Marines, first-born, Iron Warrior’s to Salamander's…

Ugh, thinking about them just hurts your brain, brings you a massive migraine. You’ve gotten a bloody nose out of it one time, and you really don’t want to experience that again. It was one of the worst ones that you had, and even that, was suspicious to you. It wasn’t hard to notice that something was at play here as a mute watcher. Yet, something stops you from thinking of such. You wonder if you can get your answers from an Alpha Legionnaire or a Thousand Son. You heard it was a bit risky to deal with the mysteries untold, but if you wanted answers…

“Auntie?” Eden calls for you again, a tone of worry, perhaps defensiveness in her voice. Her hands tugging up at you. Wanting your attention again. “Did Mr. Varon offend you? You stare at them quite a lot…”

‘What? ’ You think to yourself, blinking away from the Shadow Keeper; rising your brow as you look back down at the child. Ignoring your own hint of embarrassment that grows inside of you that you were just… staring at things. Though, who's Varon? Wait…

Your head moves back up to the Shadow Keeper, your eyes narrowing at him slightly, judging him. His helmet tilting a centimeter to his right. His visor flashing a bit brighter as if he was… amused. Never in your life have you made on effort to learn the first and last names of the Golden Knights. You didn’t want to, you wanted the favor of your supposed parents then, but now?

You shake your head, ridding of any thoughts that could be driven by your heart. Turning your head back down to the child that was trying to pull you along somewhere. Her hands tightly grasping at you, grunting in… cute effort to try and move you from your spot. A singular twitch of your lips frowning upward, being shown for the trained eye before quickly going stoic again and following where the child wanted you to be. The shadows’ following at a respective distance right after.

She leads you a bit through the mansion, as if she was checking it out with you. Her hand never leaving their spot on your pants to pull you along. Taking you around the kitchen, living room, the outer rim of the mansion before taking you back inside and pulling you up stairs that has a loft near the entry way of the mansion. An honestly good spot to spy on the new people that come and go, and you suppose its one of the things you and Eden like doing together. Sitting in each others presence and watch the drama unfold just at the entry of the mansion.

“Father! I got someone new I want you to meet!” Ah, and so the show begins. A male and feminine figure slamming the front door shut upon entering the mansion. A click of heels echoing through the area as Father and Mother appear from just down the hall. Mother appearing from the laundry room. Something you take note of quickly as her being in the laundry room was suspicious, she never- doesn’t do laundry. Father appeared somewhere further down the hall. The rest of the hallway unseeable with the second story room wall’s in the way, but you would have to guess it was from his office.

Mother, something you don’t even call her anymore nor Father, but she was a rather fine looking woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Good figure that would make her a model until you get to her shitty attitude. Most of the time she's a manipulator. Her tone untrue to others, including family. Seems like she just can’t stop being in a play. A fantasy she puts herself in. Something at least you can feel pity on her **for.

Father was all the dark a broody unless he was hosting his parties. Drinking away his worries. His dark eyes almost distant; black, slicked back hair seemingly always greasy now a days, but at least he occasionally shaved when a beard started to grow. That was something to show he wasn’t a complete failure. At least physically, emotionally? You, and only you knew he was drowning in silent debt. He should really consider rejecting some things… It will only be a matter of time before he breaks. You take a bet that he would even brake before your mother would.

“This is Linton Stokes.” Your stepsister, more like half-sister, but you don’t really even consider her blooded or even a sister. It’s another thing you think that many would need to earn the title of, but she introduces the new male next to her. Her arms wrapping around his neck while this “Linton Stokes” puts his hands on her waist. A sound of hushed disgust coming from the child besides you. “He’s my new boyfriend.”

‘What's the number now for that? The 12th one this year?’ You muse to yourself, shifting your weight as you lean up against the glass railing. That's also not even counting the past years she's had these flings of boyfriend's. Sometimes you feel bad for them because some of them seemed genuinely good material, only to be ruined by Lessas’ habits of being well…. a known whore, to put it boldly. Other times you can tell it was just a game to the men, and this male? Was going to be no different. You can just tell. It’s like a sixth sense.

“Oh! How exiting!” Mother gasps in fake excitement, but it has just enough training that it fools nearly everyone. Her hands clasping together. Her smile too bright, and the bright red lipstick she was wearing wasn’t helping her either. “What do you do, young man?”

“I, uh, I do business.” The guy retorts and immediately, you know that's a lie. If he was business he wouldn’t be dressed like a commoner. He would be more formal. Not only that, but he hesitated his words. He wasn’t confident in his position. So that's all the more reason to think that he was a liar or he just wasn’t doing well at his job that he was most definitely going to get fired sooner or later.

That, or you’re too judgmental.

“What type of business?” Father inquires, raising his brow. His fingers threading through his hair as he sighs out. Seemingly not in the mood to meet anyone else, unless of he was drinking of course. Friendly, deceiving person when drunk. Uncaring, tired man when sober. Pitiful, almost.

“Corporation, sir.” Linton speaks with manners but if he actually had any he wouldn’t be allowing himself the freedom of touching Lessa openly. He would have been respectful and shown promise in front of father, but you know the simple word: Corporation caught your father’s interest. His eyes regained a bit of light to them at the first syllable.

“Corporation, eh?” Father chuckles in a low tone, coming forward to remove Lessa from him and wrap his own arm around his shoulder. His daughter, not even of blood, pouting just a bit with a stomp of her black heels. “Say… I can teach you a thing or two? Hmm?”

“Mother!” Lessa huffs and puffs, never really liking the attention off of her. Another clicking stomp coming from her as she looks over to mother, expecting her to do something when another solid gold came into the room: Aquilan shield if you remember correctly of what type the Golden Knight was that has entered the entry way freely. His golden armor, and what you assume jewels imbedded in it having a bit of a reflex on the tile below. His figure more prominent in the tile reflection than anything else in the damn house. Probably the most expensive thing in the world too. It’s one of the few things why your father just… tolerates them because not only do they look intimidating, but your pretty sure there is dollar bills in your fathers eyes each time he glances over them.

Linton, probably and most likely has never seen an Custodies before, shivers in his spot. His adam apple signaling that he swallowed hard at the Aquilans’ sudden appearance, and man was it always amusing to see the new people crumble at just the sight of them. You had to at least give that to the Golden Knights. They were effective in chasing people off and keeping them off the property. Not they really intend to. It was just how they were built.

Yeah, built. You don’t believe these men or perhaps just things of armor: formed like golden bars were birthed like 1,000+ pounds at the getaway from a woman’s womb. They were definitely created in a lab unless they came from a line of giants or some mythical creature. Exaggerated? Maybe, but what else could you think of without getting a pounding headache that stops you from thinking further?

“Is…i-is that a Astarte's?” Is the first thing Linton says about them, and it’s almost a boring answer. Her eyes flickering over to father before looking back at the Aquilan with clear nervousness. His hands were shaking a little bit as he swallows again. It was a bit of a miracle that he hasn’t excused himself yet. It was a bit strange, but not everyone was the same. Maybe this guy has a bit of a back bone?

“No, that’s Atlas!” Eden speaks up right next to you. Her little mind not taking the disrespect for the Custodies, no matter if it was a simple question, and you… praise her for it, but did it have to be near you? You were just the playing object, perhaps a puppet in their eyes. Not even their child or sibling, just some random that lives in their house, eating their money, and you can just tell with how they look up to you with such disgust. It would sicken you, yourself if you weren’t used to it already.

“What are you doing out?” Your father more like comments up at you. His arm still wrapped around Lintons’ shoulders while they just seem to forget about the new Golden Knight in the room since they noticed you, and not in a good way as an uncomfortable silence stretches through out the area. Your mouth never opening to answer them. You never do as it would come with a cost of your own sanity. You just watch.

“Who is that, sir?” Linton speaks up with a slight waver in his tone. His brown eyes looking up at you in mild curiosity, and it leaves you skeptical. Your eyes tracking every movement that he does. Man should know what not to question around here. Especially with the attitude of your mother and Lessa. They do not do well with your mere presence or of an uttered word of/and/or about you.

“They are no one, honey!” Your mother grins too brightly, gaining the attention of the newcomer for a second and huff from her daughter: who smirks in response as if she won something she never even participated in. Her arms folding over her chest as she shoots a poor attempt of a sinister glare up to you.

‘Was that suppose to remove me from the plains of the Earth?’ You muse to yourself to keep your spirits up despite the prickling anxiety that feels like lightning was roaming across your back. Your form shifting your weight on one leg.

“Come, baby!” Lessa smiles too brightly as well, forcefully taking Linton back from her father, pulling at the mans’ clothes. Her tone so full of under toned venom, and she wasn't even hiding it. She never tries to. Probably one of the reasons she losses relationships so much…You honestly wonder how well she would do if she was paired up with a chaos Emperor Child? For you, you want it to be a form of punishment for her. You know that what you’re thinking of is… dark. You know the difference between chaos and a “holy” marine; have a slight concept of it, and by god you wished something akin to what was going through your mind happened to her. “Let me show you around my mansion!”

Your father face twitches at Lessas’ words, clearly taking in of how she says “my mansion.” Clearly displeased with her. Not only did she take away a potential victim of his… scam’s, but she was pulling a dominance card, and if you didn’t know any better yourself? Certain men don’t like that, like your father. It’s surprising he doesn’t do anything about it just yet. Most likely wanting to try and score some money off the “Linton Stokes” and spend it all in one go. That is if he was even a business man. This guy could be wanting to do the same to him.

“Hold on now,” Linton pauses their attempts to move him further down the mansion. His hands coming up to hold Lessas’ hands to try and stop her from dragging him. Lessas’ eyes giving him a glare that he simply ignores, looking back up at you. “I thought I was supposed to be meeting your whole family?”

‘Whole family, huh?’ You narrow your eyes down at him, meeting his gaze; making sure that you gather any more detail you could about him physically. He knows a lot more than what he leads on… His eyes flickering around briefly: at Eden then back to you, and something about that simple look around irks you. It sends a couple of negative mixed signal’s through your brain. Your form shifting a bit to cover Eden up more with your body, at most your legs. Her hands squeezing at your clothing at the unintended invitation.

Lessa was a absolute fool to bring this one in.

“She’s nobody.” Lessa hisses through her teeth with a happy tone. Her blue eyes sending you another glare up at you before lighting up again once Linton looks back at her. Smiling as if she hasn’t done a single unholy thing in her life before giving a light laugh. “A maid at most! Let me show you around, babe!”

You can see the man hesitate before reluctantly following her. Letting himself be pulled by her hand and lead him further into the mansion. Your parents lingering for a second, giving you a lasting glare before following their steps. You would feel… sorry, but with how many years you put up with their shit? It wasn’t even worth to waste such emotion.

“That guy is weird.” Eden comments up at you, saying whatever pops up into her head. Your figure leaning up from the glass railing while you decided that pinnacle of drama was enough for the both of you. Better things can be done besides being bait to some theatricals.

You nod down at her though: agreeing. This “Linton Stokes” was definitely weird. He knew that you were part of the household even if you weren’t really well… apart of it. His gives off an… strange aura that you can’t pinpoint just yet, but you know it’s negative. It’s not something to just brush off either. Not to mention the random look he gave Eden…

You need to keep an eye on this dude. Yet, you cannot always be there for her, no matter if you want to or not; could or not. The family would get suspicious, and start lies or something that was supposed to ruin your own reputation. She also could get targeted too, and you definitely did not want that to happen. No child deserved to not feel a mother’s love, father’s protection or even a siblings connections, and just because you didn’t have it yourself? It doesn’t mean you would revoke someone else of that… wholesomeness. That was just a low blow, or at least you think it was- is.

You sigh, your shoulders dropping slightly in some form of internal defeat. How would you even protect her? At least until you feel safe that she was safe? It’s not like you could hire a damn mercenary or bodyguard. The spent money would be suspicious too.

…Wait.

Your eyes flicker up to the black and gold Shadow Keeper that kept to the shadows and the gold and royal blue Aquilan Shield below that keeps his own red visors staring up at you. Your mind thinking… There are others that can protect her, but were you willing to take that risk? To finally make request them of something after years of trying to ignore them the best you could?

To finally give them a sliver of your inconclusive trust?

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer40k #second person pov #third person pov #polyamory #adeptus custodes #adeptus custodes x reader #oc: sabinus ventura #emissaries imperatus #oc: celsus varon #shadow keeper #oc: atlas ectorius #aquilan shield #oc: pythios erős #dread host #oc: horos ectorius #solar watch #tw: neglect #tw: predator

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fishermanshook · 2 months ago

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ASK: Yan! Andrew, Matthias, and Luca with a reader that's weak and a people pleaser, please? :')

A PUPPET TO ALL IS A PUPPET TO NONE.

( yandere puppeteer & “prisoner” ) + gn!reader

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🔮⋆ yandere characters , mentions of killing + manipulation , I do not condone any of these actions , useage of pet names , reader is considered “weak” and “easy to manipulate” + an INSANE people pleaser , , Luca x Sock /j , little knowledge of chess ik , this is absolute ASS I’m so sorry , Andrew isn’t here b/c I gave up , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

You've been stepped on and used your entire life, and it didn't help the fact you turned out to be a weak kiss-up either. But that was how you got by. That was how you avoided the worst outcomes and changed your fate for the better.

Your luck ends here though, as the harsh conditions of these "games" leave you feeble, but also delicate. He promises to help you, to keep you safe for as long as he needs to and to only do what feels necessary to protect you from the onslaught of horrors.

꒰wc꒱ 1.7 k

✦— THE PUPPETEER ♟️ | A pawn created to be controlled by the gods above, a loyal piece to be sacrificed for “the greater good”. Although very talented, he is looked down upon by those above him. What happens when this ‘pawn’ grabs at the ropes that bind him to this role?

Matthias Czernin had always been neglected and disregarded as if he was worth nothing his entire life. “Louis” has always taken the spotlight and, even in this wretched manor haunts his every move no matter how many times he tries to abandon him. Fire and ash, he’s watched the puppet's death countless times now. And yet, he always comes back without as much of a scratch on his wooden body.

But then, he gets the chance to meet you, and Matthias doesn’t understand what he’s done to be graced with such a presence. The life he lived before arriving here shouldn’t qualify for this type of privilege. What god had crafted every wrinkle and twitch of your perfect body just to discard you this Alcatraz? It seems he’ll never know, but the Puppeteer will do anything in his power to save you from the wretched forces orchestrating these games. Even if it means getting dirty.

♟️| Matthias Czernin is an introvert at best. He strays away from large crowds and doesn’t start conversations unless needed to. But with you, he finds speaking like second nature. Easy, relaxing, and enjoyable. The Puppeteer likes watching the creases in your eyes appear and the smile you show to him. [He wishes it was only for him.]

↳ It’s not that Matthias couldn’t [communicate], more so he just struggles with the ability to do so. We never get any insight into friends he might’ve had/made, so it’s safe to assume most if not all of his time was devoted to learning the craft of puppetry. Not for his enjoyment, but rather for his fathers as he was seeking acknowledgment and praise from him. [his mother as well, though, it seems Matthias craved it more from his father.]

♟️| Matthias Czernin doesn’t realize why [yet…] he feels this indomitable obligation to keep you entirely to himself. The annoyance he feels when someone comes in between the two of you is unmeasurable to anything he’s ever felt before. So much so that he enjoys keeping a hand on you. It’s almost sweet, whether it be a pinky intertwined with yours or a harsh grip on your wrist.

↳ Either subconsciously or not, Matthias starts to cling to you as if his life depended on it. This tactic seems to work wonderfully for him, as your friends, old and new, start to greatly distance themselves from you. They’re sick of the looming, brooding presence that the Puppeteer gives off, and seemly leave you in the dark about it.

♟️| Matthias Czernin who yearns for your praise above everything else. A puppeteer who’s been controlled with his strings [for his entire life] eventually starts to forget what it means to truly be appreciated. The feeling of want, need, and utter desire sends Matthias spiraling. He needs more, and especially from you.

It’s a quiet, dusk day when it accidentally slips from his mouth. His head in your lap with the two of you alone and away from the world had to be something straight from a rom-com. So when a subtle, yet distinct noise that sounds like a profession of his love is ripped from his throat, he does his best to act like you never heard him. It’s only when you seemingly light up that he starts to think that maybe you reciprocated a bit more than he thought.

The Puppeteer is immediately up and out of your lap, and, from somewhere somehow is filled with the courage to continue where he left off. Yes, he thinks you’re better than everyone here. Yes, he doesn’t care what past actions you’ve committed to land yourself in here, he thinks you’re absolutely perfect. Yes, he would trap you and keep you all to himself if he could. Yes, he loves you. And yes, he absolutely adores you. Albeit, maybe a bit too much.

✦— THE “PRISONER” ♝ | Intelligent, cunning and corrupt, the Bishop is a worthy opponent and is always thinking outside of the box. However, jealousy runs deep through their veins. What’s the next step when they get messy and act on impulse? Breaking their picture-perfect persona in exchange for revealing their true self?

Luca Balsa was destined to be the next big inventor from the get-go. The Balsa prestige was always meant to be written down in history books anyway. So how did he end up here? With the blood of his old mentor on his hands, there’s no erasing what’s already been done.

And yet, a murderer with or without remorse is still just that: a murderer. The stings of electric shock stay as a reminder of the act that has been committed, and the Balsac name that will forever be tarnished. But there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. This time, it’s you.

♝ | Luca Balsa comes face to face with you during your first-ever match. You’re like a baby bird: completely and utterly unaware of the dangers that will soon show their face to you in only the most haunting forms. You’re scared, frightened even. Is this all just a nightmare? Will someone pinch you and bring you back to earth? It isn’t until the “Prisoner” lends you a helping hand that you realize that, no, this isn’t a dream, but a purgatory turned into your new reality. You leave your first match unscathed. At least, physically.

♝ | Luca Balsa isn’t blind to your shaken form, and who could? After a match like that, the tremble in your legs and the quivering in your speech can be excused [especially since it was your first of many!] So, being the kind, “aristocratic” gentleman he is, the “prisoner” lends his arm out to you as an invitation to dinner. You take it, and it’ll probably be the second worst choice you’ve ever in your life up ‘till now. [number one being you coming here, of course.]

↳ It’s almost scary how quickly Luca begins to stick to you. He keeps it concealed from most [including you], but others can see through his facade. They can tell an obsession is forming, and not a healthy one. [to be fair, none of his obsessions are healthy.]

♝ | Luca Balsa who, whenever you’re not looking, sifts through your belongings, keeping little mementos of you when you’ve been stripped away from his side. [It sounds cute at first, but soon you start to notice that some of your items have gone missing.] So far, it seems the “Prisoner” has pilfered a silver bracelet, a shiny stone, and a singular striped sock. You don’t notice it, but the bracelet is on his right arm covered by his black and white sleeve. The stone, in his left pocket [he considers it lucky]. And the sock? Well, um, yeah.

↳ Luca may or may not have been caught coming out of your room before. He plays it off giving an almost actress-worthy performance. He states that he’d “forgotten something and left it in your room.” Most fall for it, but others [more specifically Ganji & Naib] are starting to keep a closer watch on him. Little do they know, Luca may or may not be planning their downfall.

♝ | Luca Balsa who isn’t afraid to pull at the weak strings of your life, to manipulate the events for his desired outcome to be brought to life. And with you, an easy prey and an incredibly naive person makes his job just that much easier. Whether it’s him whispering lies into your ears or sending threats under the [dinner] table, he’s got you wrapped around his finger in no time.

↳ if you haven’t picked up on it yet, this man isn’t above approaching these situations with more serious accusations. He’s already got blood on his hands, what else is new? [don’t ask about the pocket knife he’s started bringing around now.]

♝ | Luca Balsa is anything but the quiet type when it comes to his affection towards you. His undying feelings for you already started strong, and his blabbering mouth won’t shut up about you. It’s beginning to rub others the wrong way.

Luca Balsa is the type to whisk you away [farther than he’s already done before] and to confess his dying feelings for you in a field of meadows, the action beautiful and strange whilst he presents to you a promise ring. The topaz center glistens and gleams in the golden hour, and everything looks straight out of a romance novel. Unless you knew where to look.

The shiny kitchen knife stowed away in the picnic basket speaks as a warning in it, and the glint of something gold—something like your grandmother's bracelet that’s been missing for weeks now— shines underneath his black and white striped sleeves. But the glint of hope, life, and pure adoration in his eyes has you fooled. Your rose-tinted glasses make every red flag seem a playful pink, and you stick out your ring finger as he graciously slides the piece of jewelry on.

The ring shows itself to you as a promise. A promise to always love and cherish you no matter the wrongdoings you commit [even if he believes you can’t do any] and to hold you so close it would bruise the body he worships oh so dearly. The ring shows itself to you as a promise to not let anyone or anything get in the way of this relationship.

—

note: thank GOD they’re weird people out there like me who give chess pieces personalities. thank the people on the 2012 forum at chess.com.

↳ hi and hello everyone! it’s been a minute, hasn’t it. I personally NEVER thought this fic would see the light of day, but then again, here we are. I want to thank everyone for their patience and for all of the support I’ve earned during my time here on this platform. getting to write for people makes me so happy, and the notes make me giddy — especially when people talk about how much they liked the fic in it. I am so, so sorry this came out so late, and I’m ever more apologetic to all of my tumblr friends who had to deal with my…less than communicating ass. To the person who requested this, I’m personally hunting you down and letting you know this has been in the making since APRIL 9TH 2024. YEAH. [im kidding, it’s not your fault.] thank you all again for the unwavering support, and almost for 300 followers. LOVE YOU ALL!! ⸜( ˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́ )⸝ <3

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ohwaitimthewriter · 9 months ago

Text

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 5: Legacy.

Pairing: Noa x human!reader

Warnings: Description of character death. Description of injuries. Some violence.

Words: 5.6k+ (like... how??)

Summarize: A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

A/N: For the love of God, IT IS FINALLY HERE! And don't ask me how he knows about Picasso. He just knows. (Nope, I'm not talking about who you think I'm talking about). I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper Masterlist / Planet of The Apes Masterlist

Narrating wasn't the problem. It never had been. Even if the tears always joined the party and your throat formed such tight knots that it became difficult to form the necessary words. You'd done it before, years ago, you'd done it.

"Where is he?" Noa had asked. "Dead." You had answered, in a whisper.

You were vigorously plucking, blade by blade, the grass you had been sitting on. Each blade pulled from the ground stood for every tear your body wanted to cry, but which you swallowed before they could form.

You didn't really understand why he wanted to know when you had told him you'd found a horse for him, that it would only take a few days, just a few days, and then they could both, he and Raka, go about their business.

So why did he want to know?

At that simple word, you noticed that his eyes were searching for something in the depths of his thoughts, and he suddenly crouched down in front of you, almost waiting for you to unravel the whole story of this Caesar. This Caesar whose name he had already heard through the masks, through Raka, but who made no sense to him when it came to you. This Caesar who had to be someone else. This Caesar who couldn't be the previous two.

Noa watched as you mentally counted the blades of grass you plucked from the ground and tossed a little further. Your eyes were telling a story. And with the short time he'd spent with you, he knew how rare it was. But this Caesar could obviously work miracles, and that made him curious.

You knew that Noa was tilting his head more and more, as you tried to lower yours even further to the ground, almost wishing you could dig a hole and bury yourself in it to prevent him from watching a film you'd like to forget. The heavy images in your head acted like weights, and gravity became a constant struggle not to curl up completely on the ground.

…

Dead.

And those heavy images that kept flashing by. Such heavy images…

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You had seen him fall.

Maurice at his side, one hand desperately stroking Caesar's leg, almost as if for comfort, who had just collapsed on one side. The lifeless body. The soothed face.

The smile you had flashed just a second earlier dropped as your blurred vision took over, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning.

Maurice sang a series of hoots in such distress that it didn't take long for the apes to realize what was happening, as Rocket rushed to Caesar's lifeless body. You had wanted to do the same, running to him, trying something, a cardiac massage, blowing air into his lungs, anything, but your legs wouldn't let you.

Because they knew better.

So they gave up on you. You ignored the pain of your knees hitting the rocky ground. Your eyes searched frantically for his as if he were suddenly going to open them and reassure everyone that he was all right. And the more you tried to see his green eyes again, the more your throat tightened into a knot so intense it hurt. The walls of your throat twisted with such force that swallowing became impossible.

He was going to open them. He had to. He must open them.

But seconds passed like minutes without anything happening, and a stab slowly sank into your chest, forcing you to tighten your arms around it as you refused to take your eyes off Caesar. The sharp pain coursing through your body took its time to twist your stomach, and a sob churned in your mouth, unable to escape.

If his eyes didn't open, maybe you'd see his ribcage rise. Maybe you'd catch a glimpse of his lungs, hidden behind the muscles of his chest, gasping for oxygen. Maybe you'd missed it, so if you lingered long enough, maybe you'd see his chest inflate, if only a little, just a tiny bit… " Inflate, please inflate" you addressed it in silence, wishing that his ribcage would somehow prove to you that he was still there.

But his thorax remained silent.

Then your eyes travelled back to his face. And there was no longer any doubt. His features, so familiarly hardened by a scowl that naturally stuck to him after all those years of fighting, protecting and providing for his clan, had relaxed into a serenity that had belonged only to Cornelia, only to his sons, to behold. A serenity that Caesar, on occasions when you respectfully teased the hell out him, would secretly grant you.

There could be no more doubt as your tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to move in front of Caesar, in front of the one who had decided to keep you safe.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

On the rare days when you were reminded that you'd never see again the green eyes of the ape who had accepted you as one of his own, you wondered if there was anything you could have done. Maybe if you'd pushed harder on your leg muscles, even if it meant straining them, maybe you could have taken action and tried to bring him back to life. If you'd seen the crossbow bolt embedded deep between his ribs earlier, if you could have removed it… And as is often the case, with "ifs" a whole world could be remade.

You kept pecking at the blades of grass with your fingers, and as you didn't seem to want to delve any deeper into the story being told behind your veiled eyes, Noa decided that maybe you needed some help to talk.

"How?"

Noa was careful with his words, lest you shut down entirely and the emotions he could easily read on your face fade back into oblivion. It was easier when he could see your emotions, because he could adjust his attitude accordingly and skillfully get what he wanted.

You signed a single word to him, not finding the heart to pronounce it, "killed."

The wheels of his brain began to spin and Noa suddenly wondered if your Caesar hadn't been killed like his father had been, by the same apes who had plundered his village. The same apes he was trying to find to bring his clan back home, whatever the cost. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together in his head. He wanted to know the story, he was becoming almost impatient, perhaps lacking empathy for the loss you had suffered and which obviously affected you greatly, but he was eager to know if he was right in his train of thought.

His eyes were drawn to your hip, on which you seemed to be leaning less in your cross-legged position. He had the impression that it was higher up, while your posture was slightly tilted to the left, as if your pelvis on the right was raised by an inch or two.

What if you'd been injured when your Caesar died?

Noa moved his arm up, and the movement drew your eyes to follow his hand, slightly folded in on itself, as it pointed to your hip.

"Wounded." he observed. "When your Caesar died?"

Surely, if you confirmed his words, it would be one step closer to the accuracy of his hypothesis.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Screams. Piercing. Human. It didn't take overdeveloped hearing to hear them, and Koba gloated at the thought of a human suffering.

It hadn't been his first intent to go and check. Caesar had asked him to keep an eye on the outer perimeter of the forest to ensure there were no intruders, and that was exactly what he intended to do. At least, until those cries disturbed his watch.

A human female.

The agony that struck his sensitive eardrums was only a few hundred meters away, and he would have liked to have left her where she was, no matter what happened to her, the piercing pain of her groans made it clear that she would eventually lose her life, and consequently she was no threat to the colony.

Koba began to move from branch to branch when a deep voice, this time a male, bellowed angrily, and suddenly the sobs echoing through the valley seemed to be muffled.

This, however, was more annoying.

The leather around your wrists, head and ankles was sticking to your skin. Drops of sweat beaded on your forehead and puddled around the strap that sheared your skull. You felt like your skin was burning under the leather edges and you swore that the moment they took it off, your skin would stick to the torturous object, peeling off like the skin of an orange. You could only grit your teeth at the thought.

Tears mixed freely with sweat and you weren't sure which one was burning your eyes. All you knew was that the drops were tumbling down your temples and pooling in the hollow of your ear before cascading in a tiny waterfall down your lobe and crashing onto the surgical table that supported your body.

You stared up at the blurred ceiling above you, and even if you wanted to look away, the leather strap around your head prevented you from making any movement.

It would soon be over.

You reassured yourself as best you could, the scientists' words still engraved in your mind:

"What if… we combined?" One of them had suggested as if you weren't already there in the room. "Combined?" asked his colleague. "Dislocated knee and fractured hip." Explained the first. "We know about dislocation. The tissues regenerate in 2 days if we put the limb back where it belongs, and in 4 days if we let it hang."

The second explained, laughing as he recalled an experiment that was successful for him, but a disaster for you, "The other day, Weston even had the idea of tying a rope to her dislocated elbow to see if the pull exerted would make healing longer or impossible, and this dumbass almost succeeded in making her lose her elbow!" he sneered. "She must have had a tough time of it!" The first man's eyes widened, but he couldn't help chuckling. "She's being paid for it." The second man shrugged.

Paid for. As if you'd had any choice. That day when the ALZ-113 test came back positive. That day when, to the utter disbelief of everyone in the room, including you, they'd gone ballistic, because how could it be? How could you be positive for this virus without any symptoms? Without degrading yourself mentally? Physically? How could you still stand up and not cough your lungs out?

You were only supposed to be immune. You were part of the group that had been commandeered for several months to try and understand why some people couldn't be infected. This group of people selected after lengthy observation following exposure to the virus.

For 3 months. 3 months with a virus test at the end of each.

1 month of exposure to the virus.

No symptoms. Test. Test negative.

1 additional month.

Still no symptoms. Test negative.

1 last month.

Free of symptoms. Test.

Positive.

And the panic was on.

Human vileness hardly surprised you anymore, but these scientists were bound to receive some awards for their cruelty.

"Okay, here's what I propose, we try the hip dislocation but we're going to offer a bit of a challenge to the body." The second man replied. "A challenge?" The first one asked. "You're new to this program, so you don't know everything yet, but we've taken it to the next level, no longer trying to find out what the virus regenerates or how it does it…"

The second scientist then grabbed a hammer from the makeshift workbench set up earlier, and your pupils suddenly dilated at the sight of the tool swinging at the end of a string, dangling from the scientist's finger. Your blood ran cold and tension began to contract all your muscles, unconsciously preparing for the shock.

"We're looking for the limits." The scientist concluded, gripping the hammer handle firmly. "I… I'll get the anesthetic." The first scientist stated, however the more experienced one stopped him. "It only wastes the product. Remember, the virus regenerates any cell it considers sick or dead."

Oh, and how you wished with all your being that you could just fight back and rip off those straps whose leather had become all too familiar to your skin. Today, it was going to hurt. You knew it, it wasn't new, it always hurt and your only line of defense was to grit your teeth and pray that it would happen quickly. But that hammer. Oh you could only imagine, no, your body already knew how much raw, stabbing pain it would cause. Even a stab was more bearable. Even before the flat of the hammer made contact with the targeted part, you could feel your bones cracking and shattering. Each splinter of bone would sink into your muscles, your inner epidermis, and why not shear off the more protuberant veins running along your thigh and hip.

You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, to the point of twisting the joints of your pelvis, as if your body were trying to hide as far as possible those bones already well protected under the layer of muscle, fat and skin that formed a bulwark between them and the outside world.

The two scientists must have thought you were a ridiculous worm, squirming to get your body away from their painfully intrusive hands, but the straps were doing their job. The tinkling of the straps, as you tried to remove your wrists from their grip, drew the attention of the scientists, who stared at you scornfully. A ridiculous worm that could not escape the boot that would crush it.

The first impact ripped through your flesh and your face contorted into a grimace, a taste of iron spread through your mouth and the pressure you exerted on your jaw to keep it shut sent a shower of needles down your cheeks and up to your temples, where the blood was pounding a beat that made you wish you could bang your head on the floor.

You didn't want to give them the pleasure of hearing your screams. Not now, not on the first blow.

If they wanted to hear them, they'd have to come and get them.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It may have been a long time ago, but the memory remained imperishable. How could it be when it was responsible for your constant limping.

Your body had been through a lot. But it had always been able to repair itself, patch itself up and regenerate every part, every cell, every bone in such an admirable way that you sometimes doubted you'd ever really been harmed.

But there was still this hip. A little wobbly, a little too rigid. And the screams. Oh, the screams, they had finally got them, and the delight on their faces left a bitter, vomit-inducing taste in your mouth.

In your fervent desire to strip the earth of its blades of grass, you had grabbed a flower stem and were working hard to remove each petal. A quick tug, a hammer blow, another quick tug, another hammer blow. Eighteen. You had counted eighteen.

The silent conversation you were having with yourself was mind-boggling to Noa. If he'd known earlier that fixing your frame was going to give him such an outpouring of expression and life from you, he'd have taken it upon himself to break it and fix it in the process much sooner.

If he had done so, maybe he'd never have had to deal with the wave… no, the tsunami of emotions he had never really been ready to receive. It was yet another piece of the puzzle he was missing. How could an Echo be both so unexpressive and yet overflowing with feelings like a river after a big storm?

Noa almost wanted to come closer, still crouching down, wanting to force you to answer his question as if he could pull the wool over your eyes with his mere proximity. "Tell me I'm right." That was what he wanted most when he hadn't even shared his train of thought with you. Because if he was right, your behavior would have found a logic.

The despair of seeing your world crumble helplessly.

The guilt of not having been able to protect.

The shame of not having been strong enough.

Emptiness, faced with the inert body of a loved one.

This would make sense to Noa because he himself had felt them. But his entire pyramid of thought collapsed in a single one of your sentences.

"No, before I even knew him."

If Noa could have cut into your skull to see what was going on inside, you were sure he would have. Noa squinted, trying to make sense of a story for which he had only scraps of words.

"Where's his clan?" Noa attempted another question and to his surprise, your answer was quick to ring in his ears. "I don't know, I left."

Oh.

It would have taken a trained eye to notice, but Noa puffed out his chest slightly, proud to have asked the right question. You'd had a life before living with his clan for a while, at least, long enough to have such feelings when your Caesar died.

And then, his line of thought came to an abrupt end.

OH.

You. An Echo. Living with a clan of apes.

An Echo and apes, sharing the same living space.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Watching you go back and forth between the arms of the conscious and unconscious was quite enthralling for Koba.

Even though he could feel the bile rising in his throat, he had to admit that you had put up a good fight. Your human vanity had been far too great to succumb so quickly to your abusers. If the men in white had come to a tragic end under Koba's murderous fists and fangs, he hadn't been shy about admiring for a while the sadistic game those men had started with you.

There was nothing more delectable than watching a human suffer, and Koba was quite in awe of humans' boundless creativity when it came to torture.

He could just as easily kill you. It would have been easy in such a vulnerable state, but where would the fun be if you didn't see him do it?

The terror he'd been able to read in the eyes of these men dressed in white had only been an appetizer, like the hazelnut that crunches under the tooth to whet the appetite.

The screams. It was a feast he'd relished in. Koba took care of it. He'd wanted to hear them scream like he'd heard you rip your lungs out in pain.

Koba squinted at the thought. No, it had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with seeing your hands and feet bound and pinned to a table the way he had been. It had nothing to do with the fact that the current state of your pelvis looked like a Picasso painting and that the scars, if and only if, he let you survive, would match those scattered across his body.

No.

He'd wanted to hear them scream because they were men wearing white. Humans who had mutilated him. Because they were human.

A whine.

Koba turned his gaze to your face. And what a satisfying sight it was. He could read on your every feature the pain that had circulated through all your cells, a pain he imagined to be so deep that it had left its marks on the skin of your contorted face. Even in the unconscious, he could see the repetitive twitching of your body trying to digest the hammer blows it had repeatedly received.

To him, it was a painting, a work of art, and he might have wished he'd inflicted it on you himself, but not to observe other human beings, your bloodthirsty species, inflicting such suffering on one of their own would have been a real waste.

How ironic. As human as you were, it didn't stop them. No better than a laboratory rat… No better than the ape he was in the eyes of those men wearing white.

How ironic to let you live only to see you realize how insignificant you are to your own species. To the species that claimed to be superior. The idea of you, a human, realizing that even this had been taken away from you by these other humans, no matter who you were, what you had or hadn't done, was so pleasing to Koba's vengeance that he yanked each of the straps that held you to the table.

And Caesar? Oh Caesar will see. He'll understand Koba.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Raka… told me a story."

The hesitation in Noa's voice caught your attention and you slowly began to forget to peck at the blades of grass at your feet. What story? Your gaze, lost in your memories, landed on Noa, curious to hear what he had to tell you.

Noa found himself fascinated by the stubbornness of your irises to continue the story you were telling yourself, while at the same time showing your sudden interest in his words. He felt as if he were observing the depths of a river, its swirls warping the flora and fauna moving beneath the surface, with only the desire to plunge his face underwater and let him see clearly the life that lay there, without filters, without waves, without murky waters.

"Apes and… Echoes" he pointed to you with a wave of his hand. "A very long time ago… would have been like… you and your Caesar."

Noa watched your facial features pull back into a confused scowl. You said nothing. He wondered if you were inviting him to go on with his explanation or if you were silently passing incredulous judgment on a potential distant truth that he himself had felt, when Raka had told him stories of a past older than the elders of his village. After all, even if a clan of apes had shared a part of your life, it was very far from being standard practice in this world, and quite the contrary, you may have been the only Echo in the present world to have lived in such a way. It would come as no surprise to be suspicious of this potential truth, but Noa was sure that you were living proof that Raka might have been right about that distant past.

But to you, something was wrong. And you felt your neurons searching for connections that didn't yet exist, because it was more than obvious from your own experience that apes and humans had lived side by side. It wasn't an unknown story, or even a harebrained one, it was your story.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Perched on the edge of a boulder, your legs dangling in the air above the rest of the colony, you were quietly watching the apes go about their daily lives.

A month had passed.

A month, but it had really only been a week since you'd ventured outside the hut you'd been brought to to help your body heal.

Something was lurking in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you could hardly identify because it was so unstable. It grew inside of you and spread like water from a dam that had just burst, although you didn't know if you should really welcome it and let it settle in your veins so that it could nourish each and every one of your cells. And whatever that feeling was, whether positive, negative or a bit of both, it kept growing and trying to find its true nature.

This feeling had begun to feed on what it saw around you in the three weeks since you had regained awareness of your surroundings.

Distrust, in the green and golden eyes of some of the apes who passed by your hut.

Benevolence, in the leathery hands that took care to check on the progress of your healing.

Curiosity, in the gruff words that asked you questions to which you didn't have all the answers.

Hatred, in the growls that hissed through the sharp teeth shown to you when you dared a glance outside your hut.

And, above all, empathy, in the gentle, patient gestures made to ensure that no more pain would be caused to you as your body worked crudely to create bones and flesh previously ripped to shreds.

Three weeks. That's how long it had taken for you to be able to put one foot on the ground again and for your hip to weld to your pelvis. Your body had done what it could with what it had left. You knew you'd never walk the way you used to. You didn't need an X-ray or a CAT scan to feel the bone plate that had fastened the bone in your pelvis to the bone at the top of your femur.

You wondered what the scientists would call this new bone, their future pride and joy. Maybe Weston would take all the credit, after all, even if he wasn't the designer, he was the head of the program.

And this feeling, which continued its perpetual development, suddenly twisted your stomach. They couldn't give it a name if you didn't come back.

You snapped out of your thoughts when a low, guttural grunt drew your gaze to an ape crouching beside you.

Caesar. That was how he had introduced himself when you had regained consciousness.

You smiled at him before focusing your admiring gaze once again on the goings-on below.

"It's… amazing what you've done."

A low vibration emerged from his chest in a dull chuckle, and you didn't need to see it to know he was proud of the work he'd done.

"Not I, all of us."

You nodded keenly, but couldn't help feeling that he was being too modest, for if it hadn't been for him, all those apes would never have had the life they'd got here.

This plunged you into a form of nostalgia for a time that had not yet arrived, but which was taking shape a little more day by day. A time when humans would die out and the apes would continue to thrive, and you couldn't yet imagine to what extent.

"The world is going to change so much…" Your voice seemed lost in a distant future when the realization hit you. You turned sharply towards him, your right hip screaming insults through your nerve endings, "No, what I mean is…" you rushed to reply while massaging the painful part of your pelvis in a silent apology, "it's really fantastic what's happening to you all and it's a great thing but…" You paused in your clumsy explanation before resuming, your eyes busy looking at your fidgeting hands, resigned, "Sorry, that was stupid."

You suddenly looked up as Caesar took hold of your wrist. Cautiously, he stretched your arm slightly towards him, placing the palm of your open hand skywards. His grip wasn't meant to be aggressive; in fact, he was silently and gently showing you the best way to ask for forgiveness. You felt his leathery fingers glide confidently over your palm and you were so taken aback that Caesar, after accepting your apology, had to gently push your hand towards you to indicate that the exchange was over.

"The world… has already… changed." His baritone voice resonated right into your ribcage, and you observed him place beside you a wristband adorned with what looked like polished white stone. "But you can… learn."

The more you looked at the wristband, the stranger those little white stones seemed to you. You hardly dared to touch it, and you cast a questioning glance at Caesar, who was cautiously observing your reaction.

"Wha… what's this?" "Bones." He replied simply, pointing to your pelvis.

The bones from your pelvis. It took you a minute to digest the information, but that was all it took to understand.

The small pieces of bone had been carefully cleaned and gloriously adorned around this wristband woven from a bamboo stalk. Your bones, which had been bruised and abused in human hands, had been reassembled and treated with respect in the hands of an ape. A form of silent agreement that said: if humans have torn a part of you away, apes, if you were willing, could have it back to you.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Unconsciously, your hand had slipped around your wrist where the bracelet had rested there for years before being lost. Your fingertips remembered the asymmetrical outlines of the polished bones and the way the woven bamboo rods rolled across your skin, and it was hard to forget them after so many years of playing with them between your fingers.

It had been a long time since you'd thought about it, and if it had still been there, maybe you could have shown it to Noa and confessed that Raka was right, that it wasn't "would have been" but simply "was".

The issue wasn't to relate, but…

And you tilted your head to one side. Your eyes crinkled into a thousand questions that you couldn't formulate yourself and that remained on the tip of your tongue as if no words in any language could really translate them into something audible.

"H-How…?" You couldn't finish your question. "That's what Raka said… when I told him about the masks."

Noa was not sure whether he should tell you about the masks, or even why he had brought himself to your doorstep. And you'd never gotten him used to that intense stare of yours in four days. Now it was your turn to want to open his skull like you would open a Tupperware to see what was hidden inside.

You stared at him intently and caught his gaze turning to Raka, who was nearby looking after his horse.

Noa was looking for some form of escape, or even comfort, from Raka, who he felt was best placed to explain these things to you. But Raka wasn't looking at him. He couldn't help him out of the mess Noa had gotten himself into.

Noa stumbled over his words, not knowing where to start, but he sensed that you wouldn't help him collect his thoughts and translate them into words. But if you didn't want to help him make them audible, yourself far too confused and bewildered, he could always sign them to you.

"Long before, another Caesar… A different one from yours, too far away to be yours" And you straightened up, suddenly wanting to get closer to Noa, silently taken aback by his movements that you were slowly deciphering. "Raka said, the masks, they took his name." Noa went on signing, amplifying his gestures to make sure you understood. "To twist his words."

And the signs that followed left you speechless.

"Ape do not kill ape." Noa began, before going on with gestures seeming like an echo from the valleys of a mountain range overshadowing bygone days.

And as you stared at Noa, your irises detailing his every move in their sockets, you finally noticed.

How had you not noticed before? Surely too busy looking away, too busy drowning in lists, sinking into activities that had kept you bodily functional, too busy wanting them both to go away.

The scar on his right pectoral. Your vision blurred a little more at the signs you knew by heart, the signs Caesar had told you over and over again until they became second nature. All you could see were his hands, close to his chest, his scar in the background, and for a fraction of a second you could see him, Caesar.

Caesar signed to you the words he was so proud of, puffing out his chest like an insolent child after getting the top mark in an exam, so proud of the words he'd invented that he let out a confident growl, straight from his ribcage.

"Apes, together, strong." You whispered Caesar's words in the rhythm he was so accustomed to signing them.

And a tear beaded down your cheek as you looked up into Caesar's face, realizing at first glance that it was really only Noa.

Noa observed your cheeks gradually covering with tears, not really understanding what had just gone through your head, but he too was speechless. How did you know his words? And before he could ponder the question any further, your barely audible voice forced him to focus on what you were about to reveal, his first name rolling off your lips.

"Noa… There is no other Caesar."

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#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #noa x human reader #noa x reader #koba #noa #caesar #planet of the apes x reader #the memory keeper

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