#I’m eating the leftovers now because it’s a big poke bowl
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fish roe is the best thing ever… so crunchy
#I got a poke bowl yesterday and tried fish roe for the first time on it#I’m eating the leftovers now because it’s a big poke bowl#Surprisingly even this specialty high quality food costs less than Sonic’s fast food
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A Place Called Home | Chapter 11
Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook
Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.
You wake up and realise that now, you have 7 hybrids living with you. 4 of them are yours, 1 of them is a rehabilitating patient and 2 of them are just here for the upcoming winter. You try your best to bring them together and make sure they stay happy.
You wake up to be greeted by Yoongi’s sleeping face. He had requested to crash in your room and sleep with you in his arms, which you were perfectly fine with. He could stay in your room for as long as he needed to.
“Yoongs, how are you feeling?” You whispered. It took him a few seconds to respond, stirring in his sleep and yawning.
“I’m okay...” He replied sleepily.
“You can stay here and rest if you want. I’m going to work.” You told him and he nodded. Chuckling, you went to wash up and change into your work clothes. When you came out of the bathroom, Yoongi stood there, rubbing his eyes like a lost child.
“I’m hungry.” He said.
“Then go wash up. I’ll see you downstairs.” You patted his shoulder. Once he entered the bathroom, you grabbed your work bag and headed downstairs.
“Good morning!” You were bombarded with hugs from a tiger and calico cat. You stepped back to steady yourself.
“Good morning, Tae and Chim.” You chuckled. Pulling away, you went to the kitchen to see Jungkook and Hoseok awake. For a moment, you had forgotten that two new hybrids came to live with you yesterday. Jungkook’s long ears twitched when you entered the kitchen. The brothers watched as you went to greet Namjoon and Jin with hugs and pets.
“Are you working a long shift today?” Taehyung asked. You took your phone out to check your schedule.
“Doesn’t seem like it... I only have two surgeries scheduled today. Then it’s consultations all the way... I’ll end around 8pm. If you guys are keen, we can go for a late dinner together.” You smiled.
“That’s sounds great.” Jin smiled and Jimin nodded in agreement.
“You two can come too, if you’d like.” You looked at the two brothers. Hoseok nodded his head excitedly while Jungkook shrugged, looking away as he poked at his breakfast.
“Go where?” Yoongi appeared in the doorway.
“For dinner tonight. My shift ends at 8.” You relayed and Yoongi nodded.
“I’ll be practicing from home for a while so I’m free.” He wrapped his arms and tail around you. You had to leave soon so you sat down and ate breakfast with them. Jungkook remained aloof, not really participating in the conversation but Hoseok was chatting non-stop with the others.
“Where are you going?” Hoseok asked you.
“I’m a doctor, remember? I work at a hospital.” You smiled as you slipped your shoes on.
“I forgot I promised to bring you and Jungkook shopping for necessities today. I’m sorry about that. But we can go on my next day off, I promise.” You said apologetically.
“Don’t worry about it!” Hoseok assured.
“You guys can come and pick me up tonight then we’ll go. Don’t forget your tags.” You reminded and they all came to bid you goodbye. Instead of collars, you got all of them dog tag necklaces, which looked more like accessories.
Everyone go their unique colour. Namjoon chose blue, Yoongi chose black, Jin chose pink, Taehyung chose green and Jimin chose yellow.
“Jungkook and Hoseok, I know you’re not officially under my care but just so you wouldn’t get in trouble when we go out, I would like to get tags for you as well. If you’re okay with that.” You told them the two nodded in agreement. Both of them wouldn’t want to be separated or taken away since they were strays with no papers.
“What are your favourite colours?” You asked.
“Red!” Hoseok replied.
“Purple...” Jungkook said. You nodded and gave Taehyung one last hug before getting into the van and driving to the hospital. Indeed, today was less hectic. It was mainly consultations and lots of paper work.
‘Don’t forget to eat. - Yoongs’
You smiled at the message and went to the staff lounge to heat your food up (leftovers from dinner). The other nurses and doctors there smiled at you as you sat with them to eat.
“(y/n), you have a lot of hybrids staying with you right?” One of the nurses asked. You nodded your head as you chewed your rice.
“How do you provide for all of them?”
“I don’t actually provide everything for them. Most of them have jobs, actually. I don’t treat them as pets or properties. They can do what they want. When they decided what jobs they wanted, I told them to go for it. Two are working at a plant nursery, one is working at a library and you have all met Yoongi, he’s working at a music school.” You explained.
“Are you going to adopt more?” Dr. Lee, who was sitting beside you, asked.
“If they come along and fit well with the others, then why not?” You shrugged, thinking of Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok.
“You’re seriously amazing, (y/n).” The nurse gave you a thumbs up, making you blush.
“You guys are just as amazing because I’m sure we’re all here for one shared reason, right?” You chuckled. They all nodded and you couldn’t be happier with all the staff that you were working with.
After lunch, you performed your scheduled surgeries and finished your consultations for the day. You sat in your office as the nurses brought in all the files that you needed to fill in or update the charts. You checked all the x-ray films for your patients.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Who is it?” You asked, not looking up from your table.
“Head buried in paperwork again?” Dr Yu teased as she walked in. You threw your head back in laughter.
“When I’m this tired, I prefer paperwork than 6 hour long surgeries.” You smiled, looking back down at your reports. Even if you didn’t look up, you knew she was still standing there.
“Can I help you, sunbae?”
“I brought in visitors for you. Can you at least look at them?” She said and you finally lifted your head. Your eyes widened as you saw all 7 hybrids standing there. Suddenly, your office felt so crowded. Seeing you, Jimin immediately ran over to give you a big hug, nuzzling his cheek against yours.
“Hey, Chim. What are you guys doing here?” You asked, pulling away slightly and opting to stroke Jimin’s head instead.
“You said you end at 8. It’s 8:30.” Namjoon raised an eyebrow.
“Oh no! I’m so sorry, I lost track of time.” You facepalmed when you saw the clock. Indeed, you were half an hour late. Dr Yu came over and held your arms, making you stand up.
“Sunbae-”
“You made your hybrids wait long enough. Any longer and they might sue you for starving them. Your shift is over. No more work!” She closed your files.
“Alright, alright. I just need to hand these in to the nurses’ station and we can go.” You smiled and Dr Yu saluted to you. As she walked past your hybrids, they all bowed to her respectfully. You sighed and gathered your things. Files in one hand, the other holding Jimin’s, you headed to the nurses’ station. You knew that everyone was staring at your group.
“Wow, did the entourage get bigger?” Head nurse Park teased.
“This is Hoseok and Jungkook. They’re just staying with us for a while. This is Jimin.” You ruffled Jimin’s head. This time, he didn’t shy awake from strangers but his cheeks did turn pink.
“Hello.” Yoongi, Taehyung, Jin and Namjoon greeted the nurse with familiarity. She smiled at them as you sorted out your files on the counter.
“I’ll do the rest. Have a good night doctor. See you, boys.” Head nurse Park waved you off. You bowed to her and all of you walked to the van that the boys came in.
“Hoseok, Jungkook. These are for you.” You gave them their tags.
“Wow! Cool! Thanks!” Hoseok grinned, slipping his over his head. Jungkook stared at his for a few seconds before wordlessly putting his on. You sat in the passenger seat while Jin drove.
“Where are we eating?” Yoongi asked.
“How about some Korean beef?” You suggested. Judging by the loud cheers that erupted from everyone, Jin took that as the consensus and drove towards your family’s favourite Korean beef barbecue place. The restaurant gave your large group 2 grills to cook with.
“Here, Jungkook. I know you eat meat but prefer vegetables.” You handed Jungkook a bowl of stewed vegetables.
Jungkook was shocked that you noticed that. He generally went with the flow of just eating meat but being a bunny hybrid, he was still part herbivore and still preferred to eat more vegetables over meat.
“T-Thanks.” He mumbled.
“Eat up boys.” You began cooking the beef. You gave them out to the boys, who gobbled it up deliciously.
“You’re doing all the cooking and not even feeding yourself.” Yoongi held out a lettuce wrap to you. You smiled sheepishly, leaning forward to eat the wrap from his hand. The boys were all chatting happily during dinner. Even Jungkook lightened up and Jimin was able to comfortably participate in some of the conversations that took place.
“Do you work everyday, (y/n)?” Hoseok asked.
“Hmm... Not everyday... I mean my schedule is never the same. I do have my days off but sometimes, I can be called for 36 hours shifts or 20 hour shifts.” You explained.
“Isn’t it tiring?”
“It is but when you think of the cause, it doesn’t seem so tiring anymore. If I can use my skills to save as many hybrids as I can, I will. Even if I don’t get to sleep or eat.” You shrugged with a smile.
“Actually, Yoongi, Namjoon and Jimin were my patients before they joined the family. But they only listened to me when I was their doctor.” You chuckled, nudging Yoongi, who was beside you. He rolled his eyes while Namjoon laughed and Jimin blushed.
“Why should I listen to a doctor that can’t even take care of her own health?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow and you scrunched your nose at him.
“Yah. Min Yoongi.” You threatened to put his tail on the grill.
“(y/n) allows Yoongi to speak to her like that?” Jungkook asked Taehyung, who nodded his head.
“(y/n)’s chill with these things. She hates formality and wanted everyone to be comfortable around each other. But that being said, her and Yoongi hyung... they’re the closest since he’s her first hybrid.” Taehyung explained.
“You all didn’t come together?”
“Nope. Yoongi hyung first. Then Jin hyung, followed by me. Once Namjoon hyung woke up from his coma, he joined. Lastly, we have Jimin then you two. But I guess since we met Hoseok hyung first... Hoseok hyung comes before you.” Taehyung grinned. Jungkook looked at the tiger.
“Well, we don’t count because we’re only here for the winter.” Jungkook snorted.
“I’m sure if after this winter, you want to stay longer, (y/n) will be more than happy to accept you and Hoseok hyung.” Taehyung said before turning to join Namjoon and Yoongi’s conversation.
“I have the morning off tomorrow. Shall we go to the fields?” You asked.
“The fields?”
“Kitten, no of them knows what and where the fields are except for Jin hyung and I. It’s been that long since we’ve been. Have you forgotten?” Yoongi ruffled your hair. You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment, remembering just how long ago it has been.
“The fields is this big open place for hybrids to go and run. They can mingle and meet other hybrids too. Basically, a hybrid park.” Jin explained and everyone nodded.
“Why haven’t you been in such a long time?” Namjoon asked.
“Because Jinnie wasn’t around and there’s no point bringing Yoongi. His lazy ass just sits there and sleeps or he sits next to me and sleeps. I guess with Taehyung and Namjoon coming, it’s just been hectic that it slipped my mind to bring you guys there. But I’m sure you’ll like it.” You smiled.
“Can I go, (y/n)?”
“Of course, you can, Chim. Whatever you feel comfortable with.” You patted his head. After dinner, you brought the boys for ice cream.
The boys all chose their flavours and of course, they each got two scoops. Jimin just blinked at all the different flavours through the glass, not even sure what this was.
“Haven’t you had ice cream before?” Hoseok tilted his head. Jimin shrunk back and shook his head in embarrassment.
“It’s okay! There’s a first time for everything. What do you want to try?” You held Jimin’s hand. He tried the flavours that appealed the most to him. In the end, he chose strawberry only. You took the cup from the shopkeeper and handed it to him with a ruffle of his head.
“What’s your favourite flavour?” Jimin asked you.
“Honey comb and cookies and cream.” You said. Your colleagues even teased you about adopting Yoongi and Jin as your hybrids because they remind you of cookies and cream ice cream.
“Here. Have some.” You held out your spoon to him. He leaned in for a cautious sniff before eating the ice cream off your spoon.
“It’s good.” Jimin’s eyes sparkled, making you laugh. Taehyung grinned as he took his ice cream cone, licking the cold treat and letting out purrs of happiness.
“Namjoon? Aren’t you going to have some ice cream?” You asked him. He shook his head and just continued looking out the window.
When you all arrived home, everyone split to their rooms. You couldn’t help but feel bothered by Namjoon’s sudden change in attitude. He was fine during dinner but at the ice cream parlour and during the drive home, he was oddly quiet and distanced. Slipping out of bed, you went out to see Namjoon’s door open. He wasn’t inside.
“Namjoon?” You whispered out. Namjoon stood in the backyard, his arms wrapped around himself. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice your presence.
“Namjoon?” You called. He jumped slightly and turned around.
“What are you doing awake? And why are you out here? It’s so cold and you’re only wearing a cardigan.” Namjoon stressed.
“Relax, Namjoon. I’m okay.” You placed a hand on his arm with a small smile. You sat down on the bench and patted the space beside you. Namjoon slowly plopped down.
“What’s wrong, Namjoon?”
“It’s nothing.” He sighed, looking away.
“It’s not nothing. You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge. I want to be able to help you in any way that I can. If you don’t tell me, there’s no way I can help you, hmm?” You giggled. Just hearing your precious giggles made Namjoon seize up.
“(y/n), I think you’re my mate.” He said quickly, closing his eyes in a wince. He was afraid of your reaction.
“I see.” Was all you could say.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. Seeing Namjoon all shy made you feel like laughing but you didn’t want to embarrass him further. Holding his cheeks your hands, you made him face you. You leaned in a gave him a peck.
“Huh?” Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I can do that, right? Aren’t I your mate?” You teased.
“O-Of course! I just didn’t think you would accept me...” Namjoon coughed, his cheeks turning a darker red.
“Well, if you’re okay with Yoongi and Jin already claiming me as their mate too.” You laughed. That was the reason why Namjoon was afraid. Mates were a huge deal, especially to wolves like him. He knew that Yoongi and Jin have both claimed you as their mates and he assumed you wouldn’t want to have another hybrid mate.
“I’m fine with that if you are and they are.” Namjoon nuzzled your cheek.
“We did discuss the possibility of it.” You nodded.
“But you do know what happens what we become mates...” He trailed off. You nodded your head. Once you accept him as a mate, his heat will start to kick in.
“Namjoon, did you forget that I’m a doctor? I know my role as a mate. Yes, I do help Yoongi and Jin with their heat but some times when it gets too much for me, they try to take care of it on their own or learn to share.” Of course you would openly talk about that without any reservations.
“It’s only a natural thing. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” It was like you read Namjoon’s mind.
“You’re seriously such an amusing human.” He chuckled.
“If that’s your way of calling me weird. I’m going to start rethinking accepting you as my mate.” You poked his side.
“Alright, alright. Let’s get you in first. I don’t want you getting sick.” Namjoon wrapped his arm around you and you nodded. He led you back into the house.
“(y/n)... Can you stay beside me tonight?” He squeezed your hands. You nodded again. As you laid down beside him, you yawned, making Namjoon chuckle. He pushed your hair away from your face.
“My mate, can I scent you?” Namjoon murmured. You hummed in reply, blushing slightly. Namjoon’s arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he leaned into your neck. He let out soft growls and you giggled as you felt his hair tickle your jaw. You could hear his tail softly thump against the mattress. Your arms wound around him and you stroked the back of his head.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“Namjoon, don’t thank me. You fought with your own will to live. That was all you.” You whispered.
“Yoongi told me everything. How you took over my surgery from that other doctor, how affected you were when you came home and how you kept checking up on me.” Namjoon confessed.
“Well, you deserved a fighting chance to live.” You giggled. Namjoon pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Rest, my mate.” He said softly. Slowly, your eyes fluttered close and you fell asleep in his embrace. Finally, Namjoon felt like he could get a good night’s sleep as well.
“Hyung? Jin hyung?” Taehyung pawed at the oldest’s door in panic. Jin got up, poking his head out from behind the door, one eye opened. Taehyung thought of going to Yoongi but everyone knew that only you and Jin could wake Yoongi without getting mauled by the grumpy panther.
“What’s up Tae?” Jin yawned.
“(y/n) not in her room.” Taehyung whimpered. Hearing that woke Jin up. He followed the tiger to your room. Indeed, the door was open and it was empty.
“She’s not working until later today though.” Jin scratched his head. Your scent was still there, signalling that you were still in the house. Jin went to Yoongi’s room. Of course, Yoongi woke up immediately.
“What’s going on?” Namjoon came out.
“Do you, by any chance, know where (y/n) is? She’s not in her room, the kitchen, the backyard or the living room.” Yoongi asked.
“She-”
“Namjoon hyung smells like (y/n)!” Taehyung pointed an accusing finger at him. As Namjoon saw them approaching his door, he quickly jumped in front. Instinctively, he growled at them and they stepped back. Jin and Yoongi have seen this before. They were like this too when they first claimed you as their mate. The two smirked, looking at each other.
“Come on, Tae. It’s early and we should all sleep for a few more hours.” Yoongi pulled the tiger along with him.
“But (y/n)...” Taehyung pouted.
“He’s not gonna let you see her. For now, at least.” Jin smirked.
“Why?! He can’t hog (y/n)! She’s ours to share.” Taehyung whined. The two laughed but also knew that no amount of whining would make Namjoon let them through.
“Let’s go downstairs. I’ll explain it to you. (y/n) is okay, let Namjoon take care of her.” Jin pulled the younger downstairs.
You woke up a few hours later. After brushing your teeth in your room and changing, you headed downstairs to see the 7 hybrids gathered around the kitchen island. Yoongi was serving up the breakfast that he cooked. They all turned to you when you entered.
“Good morning.” You greeted.
“Morning.” Everyone replied. You missed the teasing smiles Yoongi and Jin were sending you as you grabbed your coffee.
“So, (y/n), when can I make you my mate?” Taehyung asked. Well, that led to you choking on your coffee and becoming a coughing mess, needing Jin to come and help you.
#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop series#bts#bts scenarios#bts series#poly!bts#bts poly#poly!bts x reader#bts x reader#hybrid!au#hybrid bts#bts hybrid au#bts hybrid series#hybrid au#bts hybrid x reader#bts hybrid#ot7#ot7 x reader#ot7 bts#ot7 hybrid#hybrid x reader#hybrid
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Fortune Cookie ~ MYG [Request]
↱↱↱Word Count: 1.7k
↱↱↱Genre: FLUFFY!
↱↱↱Pairing: Yoongi x reader
↱↱↱A/N: Hope this is alright for you love!!!
You hit the bell outside the genius lab and waited, you knew the passcode since Yoongi had been your boyfriend for the past four years but you never entered his studio without permission. It was just something you'd always done over the years of dating him,
"It's open!" He called out already knowing it was you, you'd planned to come by and see him with some food to make sure he was taking regular breaks and stayed well fed while he was working on his new mixtape.
"How's Agust D doing?" You joked walking into the room with bags full of taking out food for him, he moaned at the smell of food. He'd been waiting all morning for you to show up and rescue him from his insatiable hunger that could only be cured by Mr Wong's takeout menu, you'd introduced it to him years ago and take out had never been the same since. The man takes one look at you and knows instantly what you need, you don't order he orders for you.
"What's on the menu?" He asked rubbing his hands together and stepping away from his desk, you started laughing at him as you laid the containers out on the table.
"He gave us ten spring rolls, hot & sour soup for me, chicken and noodle soup for you - He says you're getting a cold and he can tell the signs." Yoongi stared at you as you relayed the message from Mr Wong to him before continuing with the food.
"Then two chicken chow mein orders and some fortune cookies." Yoongi was about to sit down and eat when he heard Namjoon screaming his name from down the hall,
"Don't open it, it'll go cold." He warned you and you agreed not to eat anything until he was back. You got up from the floor looking around the studio for the chopsticks you knew he kept around, he'd had them since you first started dating. He kept everything in this studio, you found plates once so you knew he was always well prepared.
"What are you working on Mr Agust D?" You whispered to yourself when you noticed some of the backing tracks were empty, no lyrics with them. You hit play and sat down in the big leather chair that he used all of the time. The beat was good, it had you nodding your head along to it until you got to the part which you assumed would be a chorus, it slowed down. He was writing a ballad but hadn't come up with any of the words just yet, you smiled closing your eyes and restarting the beat again. The chorus built up and you began to sing a soft string of words out to it oblivious to the fact that Yoongi's microphone was recording every single word you were singing. You just sang lyrics that reminded you of your relationship with him, how in love you were with everything he said or did with you.
"Ready to eat now?" You giggled when Yoongi came back half an hour later, the food was starting to go cold and you were sure if Mr Wong found out you were eating his food cold he'd stop you from ordering. He hated you eating leftovers the next day, he insisted everything to be eaten at once.
"Starving," Yoongi groaned dropping onto the floor beside you and taking a spoon from your hand, he started eating his soup and hummed at how nice it was.
"You never eat hot and sour," He commented when he watched you practically drinking soup from the small bowl you'd gotten,
"If Mr Wong tells me I have to eat it, I have to eat it...You never argue with the man." You said before taking some chopsticks and picking up a spring roll, they were his own creation. He'd come up with the recipe with his great grandfather and it was being passed down through his family.
"So if he told you that you had to eat a worm?" Yoongi teased as he added some noodles to his mouth and stared at you, you started laughing and said he looked like Davy Jones before looking at him seriously.
"Yes. If Mr Wong told me it would make me feel better, or it was what I needed I would eat one." You both stared at one another in silence before laughing.
"Fuck no," You giggled drinking some water and going back to your food.
"Before you go!" Yoongi called out looking at the two fortune cookies you left unopened,
"Left or right?" He questioned hiding the cookies behind his back and shuffling them so you couldn't tell which was which and so it would be a complete surprise.
"Middle." You said sarcastically and he handed you the one from his right hand and shook his head at you,
"You're always so sarcastic," You poked your tongue out at him as you opened up the fortune cookie and looked at the paper,
"Your fondest dream will come true within the year." You said in a mocking tone before putting the piece of paper down onto the table and eating the cookie,
"Have fun baby," You went to walk away but he pulled you back and kissed you softly on the lips making you melt on the spot, your body relaxing into his and smiling against his lips as you kissed.
"What's your fondest dream?" He questioned as you pulled away you smiled,
"You." He faked a gag and you walked out of the room holding up your middle finger. That was the kind of relationship you shared though, one where you could be romantic one second and filled with banter the next. It was fantastic, Yoongi cleared up the food and took the fortune cookie paper into his hand, he smiled at it before taking it over to his desk and sitting it down. That was when he noticed that his laptop had been recording the whole time you were there, nothing bad. He usually used your laugh or sometimes you moans as backing vocals - so low in volume no one would know though. Hitting play he sat back to listen to what had been recorded and was shocked to hear you singing. He smiled to himself listening to the way you sang, you'd never had a lesson before in your life and yet it still sounded as though you'd been singing professionally for years, hitting notes as the pitch in the beat changed. Yoongi took the piece of fortune cookie paper into his hands and smirked to himself once you stopped singing, then he started taking the chorus you'd sung and making it round again for the second chorus, he was just messing around at first but then he started coming up with lyrics for the verses and the song took off just like that.
~ Four months later~
"What's the big deal?" You giggled looking at Hoseok who'd practically dragged you from your car towards Yoongi's studio.
"I heard the mixtape already," You giggled but Hoseok was insisting you hurry up and get there,
"You haven't heard this one, it's the main single and the video will be filmed sometime this week." You frowned, Yoongi told you he'd shown you all of the songs including the main single so what was Hoseok even talking about. The door to the studio opened and Yoongi smiled over at you,
"First open this." You giggled as he handed you a small present that was wrapped in pink wrapping paper, a bow on the top.
"It's not my birthday,"
"Open it," Yoongi whined and you giggled at him once again, you loved how cute he would get with you and no one else. You opened up the paper to see a photo frame with you and Yoongi inside, both of you holding Holy in a phone, then in the middle connecting the two photos was your fortune cookie note from four months ago,
"Yoongi what-" You were cut short when the song you'd listened to came through the speakers only this time it had Yoongi rapping along slowly to it and he stared at you the whole time. The lyrics were about your relationship together you knew instantly because you could hear backing tracks of you both laughing together, and then you heard the Davy Jones comment and you started tearing up. That was when your voice filled the room and you almost dropped the photo frame, you'd forgotten you'd started singing but as soon as you heard the beat and the words everything came flooding back and you started singing along to it thinking nothing of it until you remembered that Hobi said it was the main single.
"Your fondest dream will come true within the year," Yoongi said with a giant smile on his face,
"T-This is the main song?" You stuttered and he nodded, worried about what you were going to say. He was usually great at reading your facial expressions but this time he couldn't,
"Yoongi!" You cried out wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into him as you thought about it,
"I checked with Bang PD and he said it's fine, he loves it, the managers all love it and Hoseok- It's been a struggle getting him to shut up singing it." You laughed as you cried into his arms and he pulled away wiping the tears away from your cheek, all happy tears as he told you your dream of singing was going to come true. You didn't want to be famous, you'd told him this a million times, you just wanted the opportunity to work on a song and feature on an album with someone, even if no one ever heard it but now millions of people were going to hear it.
"Yoongi how can I even thank you for it?" He took in a sharp breath as he pretended to think about it, he wrapped his arms around your waist and smirked down at you.
"I'm sure I can think of a few things." He winked making you giggle at him and shake your head,
"But you have to appear in the music video, it's a given." You nodded promising him that you would, he smiled and kissed your lips softly.
#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts imagine#bts imagines#seokjin#kim seokjin#jin#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#yoongi#yoongi x reader#suga#suga x reader#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#kim namjoon#namjoon#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung#jeon jungkook#jungkook
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day 30 - magic au (thor/tony)
Tony has never taken a familiar. It’s not that he does or doesn’t need one, it’s just unusual that at nearly forty years of age it hasn’t really crossed his mind. He’s never met a familiar he felt particularly attached to, and he’s gotten along with his work just fine without the assistance. The other witches and wizards and magic folk he’s come across all inquire about it, but he never has anything interesting to say in response. He lives in his little cottage on the edge of town and does his work as a healer perfectly well and that is that.
He’s in the forest one morning gathering fresh ingredients for his spells and potions when he hears the sound of a monster yowling in the distance. These are mostly peaceful woods, so if something dangerous has gotten too close to town, someone needs to take care of it. And that someone will just have to be him.
So with his basket full of flowers and mushrooms and other assorted foraged items he goes deeper into the woods, searching for the source of that eerie sound.
He finds it a few minutes later, trapped amongst the trees and bushes of the forest--a great beast of a lion, larger than any creature that normally roams these woods. Its front paw is caught in a trap, and even from a distance he can see the trap is bespelled so that any creature caught within it cannot escape on its own. Tony narrows his eyes at it, ready to have words with whoever would put such a thing in these woods.
But first he has to deal with the creature caught inside it.
He sets down his basket and approaches slowly, hands open to show he’s unarmed. The lion smells him coming--or perhaps hears him--before it sees him, and it swings around toward him with a mighty roar. The lion lunges and swipes with one free paw, but with the other stuck in the trap it can’t go far.
“How dare you attempt to trap me here, human?” the lion says in a deep voice, and Tony doesn’t even bat an eye. “Release me at once so I may tear the flesh from your bones.”
“I didn’t set this trap, but I’m going to try and get you out of it,” Tony says as calmingly as he can, hands still up as he moves closer. “Though if I had, threatening to eat me wouldn’t make me too keen to release you.”
“Oh, I would not eat a human,” the lion says, and Tony swears he can see it wrinkle its nose up. “They would taste abysmal.”
“Good to know,” Tony murmurs, and he slowly crouches down near the lion to inspect his paw in the trap. He tenses up as he tears his gaze away from the lion’s teeth and claws, but his trust is rewarded with no tearing of flesh from bone and he slowly relaxes.
“I think I can trace the magic back to its creator,” he says as he pokes at the energy surrounding the trap.
“Good. Tell me who set this foul trap so I may--”
“Yes, I know, tear the flesh and all that. The person who made the spell may not have been the one who laid the trap.”
He ignores the magic for now and begins to work on opening up the trap. The lion shifts restlessly for a few minutes, eventually settling down and watching Tony. Finally Tony is able to pull back the top half of the trap and release the lion’s paw, the lion growling lowly to mask the pain.
“No, don’t stand up,” Tony says to it, holding out a hand. “Wait here.”
He gets up and brushes dirt from his pants before going back to retrieve his basket of supplies. Then he returns to the lion and kneels back down with the basket at his side. Surprisingly, the lion sits patiently while Tony works, watching him with a piercing stare, one eye ice blue and the other a piercing gold.
Eventually Tony has a poultice made, and with a few quietly spoken words he imbues it with his healing magic. Ever so gently he puts the poultice over the lion’s injured paw, smiling when the lion squirms but doesn’t say anything.
“There. Give it a few minutes and you’ll be good enough to walk,” he says, sitting back on his heels and putting the rest of his supplies back in the basket.
The lion stays still and continues watching him, but Tony doesn’t pay any mind. He goes back to inspecting the trap, looking for any magical signatures on it, until those few minutes have passed and he turns his attention back to the lion’s paw.
“You are a very trusting human,” the lion says, muscles flexing beneath its sinewy skin.
“You don’t strike me as someone I shouldn’t trust,” Tony replies.
The lion cocks its head. “How do you figure?”
“You haven’t eaten me yet, have you?”
“I don’t--”
“Eat humans, yes,” Tony says with a smile. “Look. The bleeding stopped.”
He gestures to the lion’s paw, where the poultice has healed the worst of the lion’s injury. It will take a while longer to be fully healed, but he doubts the lion wants to sit here in the woods that long.
Tony takes a moment then to disable the trap so it can��t hurt anyone else, then looks back up at the lion.
“If you come back to my cottage I can make something stronger to move the healing along faster,” he offers, standing back up with his basket. The lion watches him warily and he adds, “You don’t have to. You should be able to walk now.”
Growling, the lion moves to stand on all four paws, only to wince and lift his injured paw from the ground. After a long moment of consideration, the lion looks back at Tony and says, “I will come with you.”
With a smile, Tony turns and leads the way back through the woods to his cottage, unconcerned with having such a large, dangerous creature trailing behind him. After a few moments, however, he doesn’t hear the rustling of a lion moving through the underbrush behind him, but of something else. Turning back, he sees not a lion but a man, tall and broad like a lion, with long golden hair and the same mismatched eyes. He’s holding his injured hand to his chest and isn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing.
“Okay,” Tony says calmly, like this happens to him every day. “It’s this way.”
He continues on toward his cottage in silence, reminding himself to be polite and not ogle the mystical creature following him home. The lion hasn’t hurt him yet but when it comes to magical creatures one can never be too careful. It really would be foolish to make it this far only to mess up because he wanted a peek.
Thankfully there is no one waiting for Tony at his cottage and he’s able to get the naked shapeshifter inside without anyone seeing.
“Have a seat,” he says, setting down the basket and going to fetch a blanket from his bed. He delicately drapes it over the lion for some modesty, then turns toward his workbench, which is currently a mess of bottles and beakers and scraps of paper covered in notes.
“This might take a while. Are you hungry?” he asks. The lion hesitates a moment, then nods. “Do you have a name?”
More hesitation, but then-- “Thor.”
Tony smiles and goes to quickly put together something for Thor to eat while he works on a spell to hasten the healing of his paw. Er, hand.
“I’m Tony,” he tells him, finding some leftover stew that should be fine to eat cold and ladling it into a bowl. When he brings it over to Thor, he takes a moment to look him over more openly, wondering if this is just what he naturally looks like or if he’s purposely making himself so attractive.
“Don’t worry, it’s not human,” he jokes, and Thor rolls his eyes but takes the bowl from him.
“I would be worried about you if it was,” Thor says as he carefully balances the bowl in his lap and uses his good hand to hold the spoon.
Now that Thor’s settled, Tony starts making something stronger for Thor’s injury. He gets out the right ingredients, finds the right page in his book, and gets to work. Thor is mostly quiet, setting aside the empty bowl once he’s finished eating and just watching Tony while he works. Eventually he gets up and goes over to Tony’s bed instead, lying down with a yawn. Tony glances over but doesn’t stop him, letting him sleep if he needs to.
When the potion is finished, Tony leaves it to simmer and lets Thor keep sleeping, puttering around the cottage in the meantime and cleaning up a bit before he sits down with a book in the rocking chair by the hearth. He reads for a bit until he dozes off too, the book sliding out of his hands and into his lap.
He wakes a little while later to find his book on the floor and Thor staring at him from across the room. Tony smiles at him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and bending down to pick up the book he dropped.
“Did you see the potion I left for you?” he asks, not concerned that Thor was apparently watching him sleep.
Thor nods and holds up his previously injured hand. “I took it. It’s a lot better now.”
“Good,” Tony says with a sigh, sitting back in his chair. “I’m glad. You’re free to stay the night if you’d like before you move on.”
Thor is silent for a long time--long enough that Tony starts to think he’s said something terribly wrong--but then Thor finally speaks up to say,
“I think I’ll stay.”
Caught by surprise, Tony just says, “What?”
“You don’t have a familiar,” Thor says with confidence. “I’ll stay.”
“You want to be my familiar?” Tony asks, not sure he’s understanding this correctly. He’s never had any kind of spirit or creature or what have you just decide it wants to be his familiar before. “I can’t just-- You’re a lion. I don’t have the space.”
Surprising him once again, Thor gets up without saying a word, the blanket slipping off him. Tony politely averts his eyes, and the next thing he knows a golden-brown cat is padding quietly over to him and hopping up into his lap.
Startled, Tony sets aside the book and rubs a hand over the cat’s back, listening to Thor purr at his touch. Thor looks up at him with those same gold and blue eyes, and Tony scratches under his chin, smiling.
“I suppose you can stay, if you’d like,” Tony says. “I still have to find out who set that trap in the woods. You can help. But you can’t--”
“I know, I know,” Thor says with a sigh, and Tony holds back a laugh at that big lion voice coming from this small cat. “No tearing of flesh.”
“And no eating,” Tony adds, laughing out loud this time as Thor nips at his fingers with his little cat teeth.
He pulls his hand away and goes back to petting Thor instead, soothing him until he’s a loudly purring, relaxed ball of fluff in Tony’s lap. Tony smiles and thinks that maybe having a familiar won’t be so bad after all.
#thunderiron#thortony#tonythor#thor odinson#tony stark#thor x tony#alternate universe#my fic#mcu#2020 nano challenge#and with one last delay i've finally finished!!#well after nano is over lol#but thank you so much to everyone who's read and left comments and reblogged!!#you've all been amazing <3
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No Harm List | Pt. 6
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 7,500
Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is one of the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.
Warnings: cussing, mentions of drugs, description of stalking/being fallowed
Genre: Gang/mafia AU, romance, angst, violence, fluff
Rating: 17 N/C
Banner Credit: @mindays
Beta Reader: @punkisnotdead2318
Big fat shout out to Katie for being my beta reader, and standing by me during the making of this chapter. I’m not joking when I say I wrote this chapter about 3 times. As well as completely rewrote my outline for the entier story and Katie read every dang word as well as gave me wonderful feedback and some brilliant ideas. I love and appreciate her so much <3
A/n: I ended up splitting the chapter in half again. I apologize in advance for the ending.
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Suga sighed in annoyance when he opened the garage door and spotted J-Hope underneath the hood of yet another car. The sound of clanging tools and revving engines finally drove him to the brink of his patience. He came down to investigate, thinking it was maybe some annoying underling who was excited to see the collection of cars for the first time.
But of course, it wasn't, and now he can't even yell at them to be quiet.
Hoseok has been working non-stop for the past two weeks, both at the mechanic shop and for BTS.
At first, RM and Suga were thrilled, he took on two jobs in the past week, actually asked for the assignments. But now that it was his day off at the mechanic shop and he was out of work to do for BTS, so J-Hope has been busying himself working on every car in BTS's garage. And it was driving Yoongi crazy.
"J-Hope, you're going to break something if you don't stop poking around," Suga offered as a greeting, making his way over to him.
J-Hope looked up from the engine and flashed a brilliant smile. Suga used to wonder what he did to deserve being on the receiving end of one so bright.
"I'll fix it if I do." J-Hope teased before turning back to the vehicle.
Suga sighed again in frustration, he wanted to order the man to go home and take a proper day off, but he could see now that J-Hope was at his wit's end. J-Hope always avoided his problems by drowning himself in his work.
He's like a shark. If he stopped swimming, he'd sink.
Why can't he just drink like the rest of us?
Suga thought to himself begrudgingly as he made his way into the carport. Instead, Hoseok had to tinker and fix every little thing in the garage.
Suga knew he should probably let his friend be, leave him to cope and process whatever it was that was bugging him. Still, he couldn't stand the thought of J-Hope test driving another car around the property. All week he's heard nothing but engines revving.
"C'mon, we need to talk," Suga said, nodding his head towards the house. J-Hope froze, looking up from his tinkering with a slight frown, the one that flashed his dimples.
"What's up, you never wanna talk," J-Hope questioned hesitantly. Suga rolled his eyes, ignoring the small jab.
"I got a job that we can look at, and you need to eat something," Yoongi said simply as he headed for the door.
Work, of course.
Hoseok willed his face to stay neutral, to conceal his disappointment as he grabbed the towel over his shoulder and wiped at his hands and face of any moter oil.
It was always just business with Yoongi.
They stayed in a comfortable silence as they made their way into the kitchen. J-Hope sat on a bar stool, feeling too grimey from the motor oil stains on his shirt to sit in one of Jin's nice dining chairs.
Suga quickly pulled some leftovers out of the fridge, piling the plate with generous servings for J-Hope before popping it in the microwave. He decided, last minute, to make a quick serving for himself since he couldn't remember consuming anything but coffee since last night.
"Alright, so what's up?" Yoongi finally asked once they both had their food, and he took his seat next to Hoseok.
"Nothing, why?" Hoseok questioned, surprised. Yoongi shot him a look calling him out on his bullshit.
"You're avoiding something. I don't know if it's one of the guys, or yourself or what, but you only get like this when something's bothering you," Yoongi said, laying out all of Hoseok's feelings and vulnerabilities in front of his meal.
Hoseok's dimples flashed as he pouted and tried to force down his meal over the growing lump in his throat, but he struggled to quell the emotion in his chest.
Only you and Yoongi know him this well.
Know how to read the small tells that slip out when he tries to hide his feelings.
But Yoongi is Yoongi, and once things picked up for BTS, Hoseok assumed he had lost the ability to know when he was struggling. He felt like Yoongi was too busy to care.
After you walked out of his apartment, he's felt so lost and alone. He never thought someone would bother to read or check in on him again.
With a sigh, Hoseok finally gave in, "It's Y/N, we haven't talked in over two weeks. I'm worried she won't ever speak to me again now that she knows about..." Hoseok let his words trail off, and Yoongi leaned a little closer, pressing his knee against his friends in nonverbal understanding.
"I get it, but I also don't think she's mad at you...well," Yoongi hesitated, then stressed, "I don't think she'll be mad at you forever. She seems like she misses you too." he amended quietly, and it was true.
Yoongi sometimes spends the afternoon in the bakery for a change of scenery. He's heard the way your voice changes tone when you tell Jimin a story about Hoseok. Yoongi honestly felt a little jealous that he had no idea who you were, but the two were obviously important to each other.
"Maybe it's time you just reach out. Ya know, talk?" Yoongi suggested, taking another bite of food.
Hobi grinned at him, "Min Yoongi, did you just tell me to go talk about my feelings?" he asked teasingly. Yoongi grunted, waving a hand in dismissal.
"It's obvious you're both miserable, and you're both unbearably sappy. I'll suggest anything to stop seeing the two of you mope around and to get you out of my garage," he grumbled.
Hoseok smiled at him as he took another bite.
Yoongi waited until he finished his meal and busied himself with cleaning up before he finally asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me about her?"
Hoseok looked at his elder, surprised, a bit of his lunch nearly slipping out of his mouth. "Pardon?"
"Ella, you guys have history, how come I never heard about her?" he clarified.
"You don't need to know every person I spend time with," Hoseok started, but Yoongi shot him a look that argued otherwise. "If you did, you would already know," Hoseok challenged. Yoongi shrugged as he busied himself with wiping down his bowl,
"I don't want to pry in your personal life too much, you deserve space," Yoongi muttered.
Funny, because the only thing Hoseok ever wanted from Yoongi was a lack of space.
"Didn't realize you respected me that much," Hoseok said, a little surprised.
"You're one of the six people I'll ever trust in this lifetime," Suga pushed, a little hurt that Hoseok was so willingly blind to how much he cared about him.
J-Hope again worked to keep his face neutral. Of course, he was, they were the inner circle, the inner circle would be nothing if they didn't have trust. They could accomplish nothing. And in the end, that's what connected Suga and J-hope, BTS, their family, their brotherhood, nothing else. It seemed the only feelings they would ever share with each other was mutual respect.
"I didn't want her to know about BTS, and it was easier to draw that line if you guys didn't know about her either." J-Hope offered simply, poking at the last of his lunch with his fork.
Suga paused to look at him, and J-Hope could see the hesitation on his face as he asked, "How long have you two been together?"
He nearly spits out his food, "What? We're not-"
"Obviously not right now, but I think you'll work it out. You seem to be really good for each other,"
"Yoongi, she's my dead sister's best friend, she's my best friend. I could never- WE could never. There are no feelings", Hoseok said, scrambling to recover.
Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, "Hobi, I know you want to keep this part of your life a secret. And I'm sorry BTS is taking that from you. But Jungkook has feeling for her, the dumb ass isn't even trying to hide it. If you guys have a history or a future, we need to shut it down before this little crush, ya know, crushes him."
Yoongi let his sentence fizzle off awkwardly as he heard the front door open then close. Immediately regretting starting such an emotional discussion in such a public part of the house.
Hoseok blinked, his mind had blanked after hearing Yoongi call him Hobi, the elder rarely used such endearing terms, but slowly the buzzing in his ears lifted, and he processed what he was saying.
Yoongi really doesn't care if he was single or not, the little bubble of hope that crawled up his chat popped before it could even surface.
He was worried about Jungkook. And the protege child's feelings.
Feelings he got after dragging Y/N into the dangerous world, Hoseok tried so hard to keep her from.
Hoseok balled his hands into fists.
"I don't have love for Ella beyond seeing her as a sister. I see her the same way I see Jungkook. I care about her safety and feelings, too." Hoseok growled as all his emotion surfaced, it was too much at once. Yoongi blanched as he saw the mountain he unearthed.
"And so what if Jungkook gets feelings for her, maybe we should tell him he doesn't need to fall in love with the first girl he has a conversation with. Maybe we shouldn't get her fired from her old job, and get her a new job so she can be more a part of his daily life. Maybe we should teach him he can't get everything he wants. Have you ever considered that perhaps she'll reject him even if I'm not an obstacle? "
"Hoseok-" Yoongi started quietly.
"Don't," Hoseok hated how he felt the knot form in his throat, hated how he could feel the emotions getting the best of him.
You hated him.
Yoogi was indifferent to him.
Hell, he couldn't stand himself right now.
And yet, Jungkook was coming out on top overall of the mess he made. And Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to resent the boy too much. He loved his little brother and wanted the best for him. He just hated that the best was everything he wanted.
But that didn't keep the fire out of his words.
"I did everything I could to protect her. I lied to you and Namjoon and Jin. She doesn't deserve to be a part of this, Suga, she's too good for any of us. I don't want him to have her. I don't deserve to have her,"
"J-Hope," Suga hissed, cutting him off as a tear rolled down the younger's cheek. Hoseok watched Yoogi's eyes soften in what could have been concern if they weren't also wide with panic as they flicked between him and the door.
"Hyung?" Jungkook's voice asked softly.
Hoseok felt his body go cold as he turned and saw Jungkook standing in the doorway, looking like he'd been hit.
"Jungkookie,"
--------------------------------
It was a mostly quiet afternoon at the bakery. Which gave you plenty of time to let your mind wander.
Hoseok had text you last night, after Jungkook had left, asking if you guys could meet up and maybe grab a meal. It was the first direct text of wanting to make amends between the two of you so far.
You hadn't replied yet. Because you still had no clue what to expect when you finally saw each other again. Should you guys talk about everything, should you avoid it and try to go back to normal? You missed him, and you wanted to be able to forgive him.
But the wound left from his lies was still tender, and you didn't know if it was one that would heal over time.
You tried not to dwell too hard on the thought that he was a killer. That he might have taken mothers and fathers and children from loving families. You try to tell yourself anyone who crossed BTS must truly be bad.
After getting to know the other members of the inner circle, you could make yourself believe they were good people. Maybe there was some good in taking a little evil out of this world.
You laughed at yourself in disgust. You were a doctor, what did you believe in other than the moral foundation that life was priceless. It should never be taken. You wanted to give people as many chances as they could in this world.
You lost your mother at a young age to a sickness similar to Hoseok's mom. While your memories of her were starting to get foggy with time, you do remember watching her fight.
She fought until the day her doctor told her it was a lost cause, and then you watched her slowly fade away. That doctor sapped your mother of her hope. And while you had no way of knowing if your mom could have maybe beaten the sickness, hearing those doctor's words almost hurt more than losing her.
You always wondered, what would have happened if you had a doctor that believed in her? If your mom was still a part of your life? You dad remarried, and while your stepmom wasn't inherently a bad person, she was pretty supportive of you at times, you always wondered if your life would have been different if your mom stayed in the picture. If you would be different.
You were so lost in the swirl of your consciousness that you didn't even hear the ring of the bell when Taehyung entered the store.
You didn't even notice when he slipped past you behind the counter where, you were busying yourself with mindlessly stacking coffee cups at the coffee station. Until he walked up to you, strawberry tart in hand and said, "Earth to Dorito Breath," as he waved his hand in front of you.
You blinked rapidly before grunting in displeasure at the name.
You 'earned' the name Dorito Breath your first week of work. You were running a little late for your shift but didn't have time to grab a meal, so you settled with a bag of chips to munch on as you walked to work.
Only it was the family-sized kind, not the little singlets that would probably be more appropriate for an on-the-go setting. Taehyung and Jimin didn't let you hear the end of it when you entered the bakery, fingertips coated thoroughly in sweet chili dust.
When you tried to defend yourself saying you were hungry, their only response was you worked at a bakery, and Jin let you snack on most of the pastries and sandwiches for free. Jimin gave you a long lecture on how you could have fed yourself something with nutrition instead of dusty cardboard for lunch.
Since then, Tae had dubbed you Dorito Breath, claiming your potent air would scare off the customers when you took their order.
His comment had been effective enough for you to self-continuously munch on a few mint leaves throughout your shift.
"What do you want?" You grumbled, watching as he picked every strawberry from the tart before slipping it back into the display.
Unsanitary asshole.
"Ahh, did your mother teach you those manners?" You hissed as you grabbed the tart from the case before a customer walked in.
Taehyung smirked at you, "My mother gave up on teaching me pretty early in life."
You rolled your eyes, "I think I would too if you were my child,"
A change in emotion flashed across his face too quickly for you to identify. You decided to change the topic before you risked hitting a sore spot. You and Hobi weren't the only ones with family issues in this city. In fact, it was a running theme in Alcorn.
"What do you want, V? Jimin isn't even here," you sighed, leaning against the countertop.
"I can't just come by to get a cup of coffee?" Taehyung asked in a mocked, hurt tone. Your eyes rolled again.
"No, because you don't even like coffee, you put so much cream and sugar in it, it looks white," you teased.
"I'm sorry for not enjoying your bitter bean juice, it's a mockery to my delicate taste buds. But at the end of the day, I need to stay awake as long as possible," he added profoundly with a shrug.
"Why don't you just drink energy drinks?" you asked, and Taehyung fixed you with a look, the predatory kind that made you freeze in place and made your heart beat flutter. He chewed his gum a little obnoxiously, smirking as your eyes fell to his lips.
"Because my dear Ella, you don't sell energy drinks here, and I need every excuse to see you," he replied in his deep baritone.
You huffed, turning your back at him to effectively break from his trance, "You're so full of shit," your murmur as you continue stacking the cups. He chuckled as he made his way beside you, standing so close you could feel the heat radiate off his arms, helping you make the stacks even.
After a moment, he asked softly, "Have you talked to Hobi recently?"
You looked to him, taken a little off guard by the personal question, "Not recently," you hesitated for a moment before adding, "I don't know what to say."
Tae studied you for a moment, you could see the conflict in his eyes as he said, "He cares about you, and in the end, he did what he did to protect you."
"It's not just the lying," you sighed, leaning against the counter. "I just, I don't know what to think. He's killed people Tae," you said softly, worried that saying it too loud would somehow trigger another loss of life. Taehyung's eyes darkened at your comment.
"Ella, you have a right to need time to process everything, but I must remind you, it's Alcorn. This city is corrupt and filled with terrible people. If you're not made of money, you have to kill to survive."
He took in your shocked silence as his cue to continue, "Look, I would like to tell you that not everyone in BTS is a killer, I would like to tell you that the people we do kill are the bad ones that deserve to die. We strive for that, but at the end of the day, we have our motives and family to protect. I would like to tell you any kind of good news that might make you feel safe and help your moral compass see true North, but I can't because that would make me a liar."
You shook your head in disbelief, "That's terrible,"
He smiled a feral grin, "We are terrible sweet, Ella. Alcorn and everything in it is terrible."
He took in your fearful expression, and he sighed as he found himself caught up in the moment and the bitter disdain for this city.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when he opened them, they were soft. His whole expression changed to a more comforting one.
In the back of your mind, you remember Jimin telling you how on top of drug dealing, Tae was an excellent spy, he could change faces like someone changes their clothes. Knowing that did nothing to prepare you for the whiplash you got from experiencing it up close.
"I'm sorry I don't want to scare you. I just want you to understand that killing isn't the worst thing you can do to people in this wretched city. I want to let you know that even in gang standards, Hoseok is as good as they come. You're both miserable without the other, and it's super annoying for everyone else, so please just give him a chance." Tae said, and despite the harsh words, his tone was honeyed, and there was warmth in his eyes.
"I just can't accept that killing people is a normal thing because you tell me it is. He's taken lives, and I'm not okay with that," you argued. V's expression soured.
"Yeah, well, it's really hypocritical of you to turn you back on one gangster only to cozy up with another. I'm sure it's fun, working at our bakery and asking us all about our little gang. It must seem exciting since we censor anything that might upset you. Jungkook and Jimin can sell you the Robin Hood narrative all they want, but at the end of the day, we're a gang." V hissed.
You steeled your expression, "If you want me to forgive Hobi, why are you trying to scare me away?"
Taehyung faltered, not expecting your reaction, and you smiled slightly as you saw his mask slip.
"Hoseok deserves to be forgiven, he's made sacrifices for you, and just wants you safe. You two are family. It's a mockery for you to be mad at him and then prance around with the rest of us when we're guilty of the same sins," he explained.
Taehyung made a mistake, he didn't even know why he said anything to you.
It's true he wanted you to talk to Hoseok; his brother was miserable and driving everyone insane. But Taehyung would rather things go back to the way they were before you met Jungkook.
Jungkook, who spent the whole morning sulking, and won't talk to anyone after skipping two classes and spending the entire evening with you. It was obviously dangerous for you to get involved with BTS, they hadn't known you for a month, and you were already stirring up trouble.
But V did know you.
He's seen the hunger in your eyes when you slip into the alley behind the Mexican restaurant off-campus. So desperate to claw your way to success, you would turn to some back alley stimulants to give you an upper hand.
He's seen you at parties too. He gets invited to frat row often and always packs the good stuff. You don't go there anymore, but he's seen the way you acted when you did. You never fully let loose, you were smart and kept your wits about you. You were so good at seeming like you drank or smoked more than you did, it was almost practiced. You always sat back and watched as drunk guys fell over themselves trying to get you to go upstairs with them. And you would string them along all night, dancing and dodging before you went home early.
You liked to feel desired, but most importantly, you liked to feel in control.
Tae understood because he was the same way. He wonders what you would do to BTS, what you would do for BTS if you fell a little deeper into their world. You were motivated and had ambition. If you could only get off your righteous high horse, RM could probably give that ambition a lethal direction.
Or you could wreck them from the inside out, and that wasn't a gamble he was willing to take despite how easily the other members have warmed up to you.
You smiled at him sweetly, but there was a challenge in your eye, "I'm confused, do you want me to forgive Hoseok or be scared of you?" you asked.
In a perfect world, Taehyung could have both.
"Or," you added quickly, "you want me to forgive Hoseok, but you don't want me to hang out with Jungkook. I'm sorry I didn't know he was taken." you mocked pressing a delicate hand to your chest in astonishment.
Again, in a perfect world...
"That's not it," Taehyung huffed, "I just want you to understand what you're getting into by asking all these questions."
Neither of you believed his excuse.
You open your mouth to deliver your retort, but the chime of the bell as the front door opens cut you off. Tae watched curiously as your whole demeanor immediately changed, a sweet smile plastering itself on your face.
"Welcome to Sugar Daddy, what can I get for you?" You greeted in a chipper voice as the customer made his way to the counter.
You recognized the man to be named Marcus, he was a usual at the bakery, known to sometimes sit at one of the tables up front for hours at a time. Just watching the people on the street pass by or watch you work. It was odd because he didn't even bring a computer with him to pretend to do some work. He just came here to people-watch, you assumed.
At first, it made you uncomfortable, but you've grown used to it by now. Marcus was polite, tipped decently, and never attempted to flirt with you. So now you've grown used to his presence in the shop.
But today something seemed off, Marcus seemed off. He was stiff as he rambled his order, followed by giving you the wrong amount of change. You noticed the man wasn't really looking at you. His eyes were focused on V, who was lingering behind you during the interaction.
You glanced over curiously as you turned to make his coffee, surprised to see V was glowering at him as well. The two were fixed in some kind of staring match, and the tension in the air was beginning to grow thick.
You cleared your throat casually as you passed V to get to the creamer, kicking him in the shin to break his stare.
"Hey, what's your problem?" He demanded under his breath, turning to you but not breaking his stare from Marcus,
"What's your problem?" You hissed back as you put a lid on the to-go cup.
You forced a smile on your face as you turned back to your customer, handing him his drink, and wishing him a good day. He nodded, not breaking his stare at the gangster behind you before turning and making his way out the shop instead of taking a seat at his usual table.
"What the hell was that?" You demanded as soon as the man cleared the store, "I thought the two of you were about to whip it out and have a pissing contest, he's a customer, you can't just glare at him like that!"
Taehyung looked at you with mild disinterest, unphased by your accusations.
"Does he come here often? You know his name?" he asked, nodding his head at the door where Marcus let himself out.
"Yeah, we have a lot of usuals," you replied, confused.
"Does Jimin or Jin know he comes here a lot, do they see him?" he asked.
You shifted your weight from foot to foot, and Taehyung's eyes followed your movement, reading your tells of discomfort as you grew uneasy by his questions, "I assume so?" you answered unsurely, "I mean, if I'm here they're usually in the back, but I assume he comes here every day, they must see him when they're working the front."
"Interesting." Was all Taehyung gave as a response.
You immediately put your guard up, "Why, do you know him or something? Is he.. Bad?" You asked hesitantly, not quite sure what you were implying.
Taehyung chucked, "Bad? Everyone is bad sweet Ella,"
You rolled your eyes at the non-answer. He's been toying with you since he got here, and you were getting fed up by it. He scared one of your customers away for christ sakes.
"Why are you really here, V? To try and be my therapist for the day? I know you're not here to be my friend and ask about my feelings." You huffed.
Tae raised an eyebrow at you in response to the fed-up tone in your voice. You looked at him unamused and tightened your arms across your chest to stand your ground.
Finally, he sighed in defeat, "I'm here to send you home. But I will say, I asked about your feelings because you mean a lot to Hoseok, so by association, I guess you kind of mean something to me, and I just wanted to check and make sure you were good. I'm sorry if I spoke too harshly," his voice trailed off, and in the back of his mind, he wondered why he apologized, and why did he mean it?
You tried not to dwell on the 'I care about you' bit, and how the thought of it warmed your insides a little.
You were still recovering from the cold eyes and harsh words he gave you earlier, but you didn't hold it against him. You saw his attempt to scare you, to let you know scarier and darker people than Hoseok roamed these streets, and perhaps you shouldn't hold your best friend's sins against him.
"Why are you sending me home?" You forced yourself to ask through the fog of thoughts.
"I'm here to relieve you of your shift. I have business to attend to with some customers this afternoon, and I think it best if we were alone," Taehyung explained.
Your brows furrowed, Jin warned you that your hours could be unstable from time to time, that members of the inner circle may send you home so they could use the store for business.
"Don't worry, you'll be compensated for working the entire shift," he assured, although the thought never occurred to you. You had a burning curiosity to ask what he could possibly be up to. If he was using the bakery to deal drugs, were some of the pastries maybe edibles?
Your thoughts swirled, you opened your mouth to ask, maybe argue, for him to let you stay, but he quickly sent you a slicing look that silenced any protest.
"Don't get it confused, just because I told you nicely, doesn't mean that this is an offer, It's an order," Taehyung clarifies coolly.
You stood in shock for a moment before nodding obediently, "I have a test I should probably study for anyways," you offered to maintain your pride.
"Good girl," he encouraged softly as you slipped off your apron and moved to gather your things from the back. Your cheeks burned slightly in embarrassment, and you shocked yourself with the submissive attitude.
They wanted you out of the loop for a reason, it was probably best you didn't know what went on when they wanted you gone.
You shouldn't pry.
You told yourself as you made your way back to the front.
Still, you couldn't stop yourself from "Are you sure you don't need any help?" You offered hesitantly as you passed the counter.
Tae smiled at you, "It's safest for you to go, Princess. In fact, why don't you get out of the 7th ward for a bit, maybe go study at the library for a few hours? Things might get a little rowdy on this side of town pretty soon," his tone was pleasant, but you saw the mischief in his eye and the warning came across clearly. You suddenly found yourself very flustered as you realized just how out of depth you were by spending time with these men.
"Yeah… I'll, uhh, go and study… cause, ya know, my test, tomorrow." You murmured in agreement under your breath as you started backing towards the shop entrance.
Taehyung flashed you a shit-eating grin as he dug his way under your skin, "Study hard, Princess," he offered in farewell as you turned and made your way out of the bakery.
You had four hours until your shift was supposed to end, and you decided that it probably was best to put in some time studying. You caught the next bus to your university, and headed for the library, trying your hardest to settle the unease in your stomach. You watched out the window the whole ride, wondering if you could see if there was anything off about the people roaming the streets.
You made it to the library and b-lined it right for the 5th floor- your haven of silence on campus. But for the first time in a while, you found it too quiet compared to the volume of your thoughts.
You told yourself you were caving for the sake of your test tomorrow. Hopefully, after responding, you'll be able to concentrate and finally study.
You reasoned as you slipped your phone out your backpack and opened your message to Hoseok, reading his offer over three more times, as if you could find some hidden meaning.
Finally, you responded saying you would grab dinner with him later today, and turned back to your textbook desperate to get something done.
You didn't make it an hour into studying before you were ready to give up, totally unfocused.
You sighed as you packed your things, deciding you needed a shower to clear your head before you talked to Hoseok. Ignoring Taehyung's previous warning to stay out of the 7th ward, you decided he was just trying to scare you as you rode the bus back to your apartment.
Luckily, the bus stop was right outside your complex, so within twenty minutes of mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you were back home.
You made your way upstairs, eyes still glued to your screen as you scrolled through your social media feeds, and nearly ran straight into your neighbor.
"Watch it!" You heard him hiss as he dodged you.
You shrunk back and looked up, frozen to see Dawson sneering at you; he held a trash bag in either hand, and you smiled apologetically for your distracted walking offense.
"Sorry," You said sheepishly, and he only scoffed as he pushed passed.
You watched him walk off, shocked. Dawson was typically super friendly to you. He was one of your more social neighbors, but something felt off about him today.
He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face looked like he was exhausted.
You are in no position to judge someone for letting themselves go when they're stressed.
You reminded yourself, and it was true.
You had barely made an effort to put on makeup since you and Hobi got in a fight. Your eyes were perpetually puffy from all the crying you were doing during your self made pity parties, where you made yourself watch cheesy Hallmark movies, unironically.
Dawson was probably just going through a hard time. And he has no reason to be kind to you when you almost made him spill trash juice all over himself.
Pushing the encounter out of your head, you unlocked your door and made your way into the apartment. Jeremy was there to greet you immediately, demanding attention.
And who were you to deny him?
You indulged in a few minutes of cuddles and pets with your new kitty, eager for comfort as you mentally prepared yourself for tonight's dinner with Hoseok.
After a while, you decided you needed a shower to clear your thoughts; you always did your best planning and emotional navigation in the shower. Not to mention, it's been a few days since your last one. You eyed the oily roots with a frown. You had tried to hide them with a cute bucket hat at work today, but you were painfully aware of the filth under your cap all day.
You let the hot water rain down your body and help your muscles unwind before you reached for the soap, pausing as you inspected the small green and yellow bar in your hand.
Hoseok always bought you boujee essential oil soap from the hipster soap shop down the street from Sugar Daddy, and soon the bathroom was filled with the scent of lemongrass and eucalyptus.
The two of you always bought 'gender-neutral' smelling soap so that there was never a problem with using each other's showers when you stayed the night. You had relatively sensitive skin and always complained about the soap in his bathroom, telling him it was practically dish soap before you finally caved one day and showed up with your own products.
That didn't go over well, Hoseok immediately complained about having too many bottles cluttering his bathroom.
Not to mention, any overnight guest he might have had in his downtime quickly went on high alert when they saw your expensive bath products. But you also smelled the sharp scent of your favorite apple and pear shampoo in his hair, and the next time you came over, your new bottle was half empty, and his hair looked glossy and voluminous.
The two of you have since found a compromise at the hipster soap shop. You liked neutral scents like eucalyptus and lemongrass or bergamot and lime and agreed to use the same products.
Now any time you showered, you smiled at the memory and little connection. Hoseok really did worm his way into every part of your life down to the way you smell.
Breaking yourself out of your reminiscent sob story, you washed off quickly before moving to wash your hair.
By the time you toweled off and got dressed, it was still a little too early to go to the Diner, but you felt a restless energy nagging at you—a need for action. A need for movement, and you decided you could walk to the Diner, instead of taking the bus to kill some time.
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It wasn't quite 5p.m. when you left, but the sky was dark grey, and the humidity in the port city was so thick you felt like you were breathing equal parts water and air.
The gloomy sky warned you of the coming storm, and by the time you were three blocks out, you debated turning around and grabbing your umbrella. But you couldn't even remember where you left it after the last big storm. You knew you didn't see it on your key rack on your way out.
You were confident you could beat the storm if you hustle a little faster to make it, and you were in your rain boots if you did get caught in the downpour. You knew if you veered off the main streets a bit and cut through a few allies between the businesses, you could make it to the Diner faster.
It wasn't late enough for anything spooky to be hiding in corners. Alcorn was a shameless and troubled city, but even here, only so much could take place before nightfall. The worst that could happen is you stumbling upon a homeless man, but that was an encounter you were willing to risk if it got you to the Diner before the sky bottomed out.
Not to mention, the alternate route would keep you from passing by Sugar Daddy, and you didn't want V to think you were trying to poke your nose into any of BTS's business.
You brought a few flashcards with you as a last attempt to study on your walk, and you flipped through them, quizzing yourself as you made your way through the town. You took extra care to look forward as you tested your memory, not wanting to risk running into someone. Especially, after your almost run-in with Dawson.
His rude attitude plus Taehyung's warning from earlier had you a bit on edge.
When you turn into the sliver of space between two buildings on the main road, you try to tell yourself it's your paranoia that's making you feel like you're being watched. That you're just letting V get in your head.
You fiddled with the thick paper of your flashcards, admiring how the corners of them curled slightly in the heavy humidity. Your hair was probably doing the same, despite taking the time to blow dry it and put a straightening product in it.
Coming out of the mouth of the alleyway, you stopped in front of the tinted windows of a random shop, head-turning to try and inspect your hair. As your eyes narrowed and focused on your locks, you froze when you saw a hooded figure behind you.
You glanced over your shoulder to see a man in a black hoodie, with a ball cap pulled low to cover his eyes trailing behind you at what felt like an intentionally casual pace.
This is a popular part of town, a lot of people probably use this shortcut.
You told yourself as you exited the alley and made your way back onto the main street. You crossed the road at the next crosswalk, even though it wasn't the best route for the Diner.
The hooded man crossed as well.
That's okay. Just cross again at the next intersection.
Again, your thoughts tried to comfort you as you decided that navigating the crosswalks was the best way to know if he was blatantly following you.
Unfortunately, with the route you took, there was no efficient way to get to the Diner from this road without cutting through another alleyway or backtracking and going back up the alley you just came from. You didn't want to backtrack at the risk that the Hoodie might have a few more friends.
You walked a few more blocks, checking over your shoulder every few steps to see if the man was still on your trail. You tried to be discrete, not wanting your paranoia to feed his agenda. You knew some sick people in this world enjoyed the chase.
You turned at the next crosswalk, pressing the button furiously as if that would give you the signal to cross any sooner when you heard a pair of leisurely footsteps come to a stop right next to you. You looked over your shoulder and gasped as you saw the hooded man standing right beside you.
His mouth curled into a cocky smile as he leaned towards you, tilting his head, so the bill of his hat still concealed his eyes, "Are you alright? You seem a little spooked," his gruff voice taunted.
You leaned away from him, taking a step towards the curb of the street, your clunky rubber boots almost causing you to trip. Your mind blanked, unable to form any response as you felt your heart start to pound in your chest.
Your eyes flashed to the road and saw the traffic was surprisingly sparse and decided, j-walking be damned, you'd risk the fine and on an impulse, ran across the street.
You knew staying on the main road was the safest option, but you genuinely didn't know the town very well once you passed the flower shop around the corner. The next block would take you into the 6th ward.
So you turned down the alleyway by the flower shop, falling into a pace that was closer to a steady jog, your rain boots creaked under your fast pace steps.
You looked over your shoulder as you turned the corner to see the hooded figure trailing at a short distance. You cursed under your breath as you willed your steps to go faster.
You waited until you cleared the corner of the alleyway before you broke out into a full run. The top of your rain boots rubbed at your calves as you ran, and you cursed yourself for not wearing sneakers.
Was out running him your best option? Could you even do so in your clunky footwear? Should you face him?
If you let him catch and grab you, you knew Jungkook's training would help you get yourself out of his hold, but you couldn't take that risk.
Maybe sending Hoseok a pin and dropping your location and hoping to God he knew you were in trouble and was willing to come to find you, would be best.
You reached in your pocket, your pace faltering slightly, as you felt the can of pepper spray you still had on your keys. You smiled, a new thought coming to your mind.
He would have a hard time fallowing you with a face full of mace.
Behind you, you heard footsteps punding against the rough concrete, and maybe it was your heart pounding in your ears, but you swore it sounded like two sets of feet.
A holler from the man who spoke to you earlier confirmed your fear.
Could you take two guys?
With surprise on your side, maybe.
You pulled yourself into a little alcove as you turned the corner again, trying your best to steady your breathing as you heard footsteps come closer.
Your keys rattled softly as you gripped the pepper spray tight in your trembling hand.
You strained your ears waiting for you aggressors to approach, and heard the sound of sneakers scraping across the concrete as if someone slipped and a shout before silence fell over the alleyway.
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A/n: Sorry for that 'cliff hanger', and I'm sorry I keep pushing Hobi and Ella talking it out further and further back. Please let me know your thoughts or theories of how you think Ella is getting out of this mess. ;)
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@curryshesus @mel-gonzalez07 @atomickokorox @pfannkuchen07
#bts fic#jungkook x reader#bts gang au#btsghostie#bangtanhq#bangtanscenery#btsbookclub#btsguild#bts mafia au#taehyung x reader#soap#pining
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This dadspy au is really making me feel things here, this is incredible, thank you for doing this!!! I wanted to ask for maybe a small scene in which teen or little jeremy had to console his papa/dad (depending on his age) if he ever catches him looking sad.
jeremy tf2 the sweet sweet lad, coming right up. (no warnings)
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Papa had his head in his hands, there at their little table.
Jeremy, for one, thought that it was a pretty great day overall. They were staying in a little house instead of a hotel, for one—they didn’t do that a lot, not unless they were staying somewhere for ages, maybe even weeks. And he hadn’t gotten to go out with Papa for the groceries when they’d gotten there the previous night, but when he got back he’d picked up some stuff to make a real, actual sit-down dinner, and they ate it and they watched a movie and he had a whole room all to himself.
But by the time Jeremy got up the next morning, Papa already looked a little upset. He said he just had a bad phone call, and apologized for the sour face, and made them a whole sit-down breakfast and headed into the little office room and shut the door so he could work.
And Jeremy spent most of the day in the kitchen drawing, and Papa came out again a little bit later and made them both a little lunch and thanked him for being so quiet and patient, and then went back to work again.
He got bored a little later and knocked on the door and asked to play outside, and Papa said it was okay as long as he only played in the back yard, and he poked at bugs and dug little holes and practiced letters in the dirt until it started to get dark and Papa asked him to come back inside, and then they ate the leftovers and then usually Papa sat down in the big chair by the window and looked out of it and smoked and listened to the radio, but today he just kept sitting at the little table, staring down at his plate for a long time before eventually pushing it forward out of his way and putting his head in his hands.
He decided to help out and pulled a stool over so he could reach high enough to put their dishes in the sink, and filled it up some of the way with water like he usually saw on TV. It didn’t look quite right, so he also had to scrub soap between his hands so there were bubbles in it, and then he wasn’t really sure what else he was supposed to do so he just left them there like that to figure it out a little later.
He peeked back out into the little eating area. Papa still had his head in his hands.
He went back in the kitchen, thinking hard. Papa wasn’t usually sad like this, and he really didn’t like it. Whenever Jeremy was sad, Papa would usually give him a big hug and then pick him up and spin him around a bunch until he forgot what he was sad about. And if it was because of a hurt spot, he would kiss it better and give him a band-aid and a pat on the head and he would feel better.
But he didn’t have a hurt spot and Jeremy didn’t think he was big enough to spin Papa around, so he’d need to think of something else.
He pulled the stool over to the cabinet as quiet as he could, climbing up and standing on the counter to look at the shelves. This one had cups and plates, and then up above that were bowls and mugs. He had to stand all the way up on his toes to reach, but he managed to get a mug safely back down to the counter.
Back across the kitchen again to the other cabinet and up on his toes to see what was on the way up high shelf. There was a little tin there that he recognized and managed to pull down, as well as a big bottle of chocolate syrup and some chocolate bars and some shakers that he didn’t really know what was in them but Papa always used them so he’d figure it out.
He didn’t exactly know how to use the kettle, so he just pulled the stool up to the sink and ran the water and tried to wait until it got really hot.
The problem was that he couldn’t see in the sink super well and he got a little distracted waiting and went to go try to figure out what was in the little shakers, and then he heard a dripping noise and he turned around and the sink was overflowing so he had to run back and climb up and turn it off again.
Aw, sheesh.
He went into the bathroom and grabbed an armful of towels, dropping them on the ground in front of the sink and very carefully running the hot water just long enough to fill the mug with it.
Okay. Got it.
He went back to the tin with the mug and stood on his toes to get a spoon from the drawer, only to be left vaguely confused and perplexed at the fact that there were two different spoons of different sizes.
Which was the one Papa usually used, again?
Oh, well. He was a little kid, and Papa was bigger than him. He’d use a big spoon.
He took a scoop (and a little more for good measure) from the tin and plopped it into the mug, only missing some of it, then plopped in a healthy dollop of chocolate syrup and a chocolate bar for good measure. He figured that one of the shakers was cinnamon, and so shook that into the mug for a little bit, and did the same with the sugar, and only just barely remembered that sometimes Papa used honey too, and stirred it a few times to mix it all in.
It smelled great! He’d totally nailed this!!
He carefully (carefully!) took the mug down from the counter and brought it out to the table, mindful not to spill his concoction. Papa looked up when the mug clunked onto the table next to his elbow, brows all furrowed together.
“Mon lapin, what is this?” he asked, voice a mumble.
“Um,” Jeremy said, rocking on his heels a little nervously, “I thought you seemed like you were sad, and every time I’m really sad you um, make me hot cocoa, and it makes me feel better, so I thought I’d make it for you now,” he shrugged.
Papa blinked, looked at him for a few seconds, then at the mug. “Did you, now?” he asked, seeming a little confused. He picked the mug up tentatively, looked into it, back at Jeremy again. “...This is very thoughtful and sweet of you to do.”
“Um,” Jeremy said, looking down at his toes, voice trailing quieter and quieter, “it’s not a big deal or whatever I just love you and stuff is all.”
Papa was silent for a long moment, and when he looked up, he had a little smile on, and his eyes were wet. Before he knew it he was being pulled up into a big hug, which he was quick to return. “What am I ever going to do with you, ma puce?” he sighed, sounding exasperated but proud. “You are far too sweet for your own good.”
Then he was being put back down, and Papa picked up the mug, looking at it again. He took a tentative sip.
And froze up, and lowered the mug, and gingerly cleared his throat.
“Ah, I see you’re... a fan of the cinnamon,” he said, smile crooked, movements stiff.
“Yeah!” Jeremy agreed, watching as he took the smallest of sips, and made an odd noise, blinking strangely.
“And it is very sweet. And very rich. Have you... used honey and sugar? And the syrup, and...”
He took another sip, brows furrowing just before he pulled away, and he looked down into the mug.
“...An entire candy bar?”
“Yeah!” he nodded cheerfully. “Great, right?”
“Yes, yes, oui, of course,” Papa agreed quickly, and flashed a tight grin at him and gulped down more to demonstrate, and his free hand curled tight around the spoon and his face scrunched up a little. “Wonderful job. Excellent. Perhaps you would enjoy some hot chocolate as well? Why don’t you go get just about ready to go to sleep and I will make you a cup as well?”
“Okay!” he agreed cheerfully, running off to do as requested.
Once in the kitchen, his Papa poured half of his own mug into a different one, diluting both with hot water until they were a more reasonable level of sweet, and quietly cleaned up the mess his son left behind in the kitchen, taking note to teach him how to wipe down a counter at some point in the future. But silently repairing Jeremy’s mess was a much more preferable form of espionage than the one he spent the rest of his time on—just enough to keep him going, those days.
He had no idea what he’d do without Jeremy. Really, he didn’t.
(Even if he had no idea how much cinnamon should go in a drink.)
#tf2#team fortress 2#dad!spy#my fanfiction#shut up me#everybody talks#i think scout is about four or five in this#just a sweet little rascal#father-son bonding AU#tf2 AU
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Simply, yours (9)
Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU
Word count: 3.7K
Warnings: none
A/N: hi! Finally, the next part is here! Sorry it took so long. I can say we are starting the second half of the story so my most anticipated part is also coming up! And that is hapkido baek and some drama woo! ^^ please enjoy and I am always open to comments in any form! 🙏❤️
Tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)
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MASTERLIST
1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7. 8 . 9
“Can I ask you something?” you asked gently as you sat down on the floor at your small table on Sunday.
The question had been gnawing at you ever since Friday and the dinner that didn't go so well. You decided you wanted a break from talking about that day yesterday, when you made up with your boyfriend and shared a peaceful Saturday, but you couldn't sit calmly anymore. Also, in a way, the possibilities of his answer were making you feel uneasy but this was your relationship you were talking about.
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply as he kept typing away on his phone, glancing up at you only momentarily, not catching the hesitation in your voice or your stance.
“Erm-”
“Wait, just a moment, honey, I will finish up this message and I'm all yours.”
You shut your mouth, nodding but at the same time trying not to get hurt.
Ah, yes.
The good old rollercoaster of emotions.
You had been so stuck in your dilemma with your work and lying to Baekhyun, you didn't address the pent-up frustrations and mood changes anymore. It became a constant, but now having most of your issues resolved and Baekhyun knowing the truth, you felt like you would cry at anything that came off even slightly negative - despite the fact that Baekhyun didn't mean any harm, nor his response was negative. It was just a mind game. You found it negative, so you would take the hurt.
Easy as that. Pregnancy really wasn't a rocket science.
Or was it?
You stood back up and took your steel rice bowl that had some leftover rice you couldn't swallow anymore. Putting it in the sink, you let some water sit in it so the sticky rice would detach, when you heard movement.
“What was it you wanted to ask?” Baekhyun quirped, putting down the phone on the table.
You turned around, and slowly walked back. “So on Friday,” you started without playing around the bush before the emotions would take the better of you. You sat back down and saw Baekhyun nodding. “You said that… you can't get me to say yes. To marry you.”
You were expecting him to get taken aback or shocked, but his face kept calm. “Yes.”
You frowned. “But you never…” you hesitated,trying to hint what you were about to say, except Baekhyun was not playing along, instead patiently waiting for you to finish your thought. You sighed. “You never asked me, you know? You never proposed.”
“I always wanted to discuss it together,” he admitted, searching your face. “Before your pregnancy we didn't plan on marrying, on that we agreed,” he stated and you nodded to confirm. Baekhyun went silent and nodded to himself as well. After a couple of seconds, he said: “And would you? Would you marry me now?”
You scoffed, throwing the small pillow that was next to you that you usually hugged to yourself when eating. “Is this a proposal, darling?”
He laughed, his ears turning a lovely pink and you relished in the sigh of him like that. He was gorgeous. “Of course not,” he said reaching out for you but just then his phone started to vibrate. Thinking it was just a message, he grabbed your arm and shuffled himself closer, but you saw that a caller's ID popped up on the screen. Jiyoung, it said. “Would you, though?” he asked breathily, gazing into your eyes but he heard the constant vibration and broke the eye contact, checking the phone. He was surprised for a moment and seemed he was about to pick up but then he just shrugged and grabbed your other hand. “You wouldn't answer to me?”
You giggled, satisfied he considered you and the current talk more important than this Jiyoung lady, may it whoever be. “Baekhyun,” you murmured and when the vibrating wouldn't stop, Baekhyun sighed and quickly reached for the phone, silencing it before throwing it back on the table and turning with expectation in his eyes as you took his cheeks in your hands. “Yes,” he murmured breathily. He wanted you to say it already.
You nodded. “Exactly that. Yes. I would. Any time.”
He let out a breathy laugh, a hot puff on your face before he engulfed you in a warm embrace making sure he wasn't squishing you like he wanted to so badly. “Then, let's do just that. Let's get married.”
Returning the embrace for a little longer, you leaned back just enough so you could see his face. “But you realise I still want a proper proposal, master Baekhyun?”
You tried hard not to think about money and all it could cost, just as you promised him on Friday.
Affectionately, he combed some of your hair back, humming. “Master Baekhyun, you say? Well, if my little hapkido student wants that, who am I to refuse?”
You burst out into little giggles and hid your face in his neck, hearing his chest rumbling with his laughter. “Gosh, you're crazy!”
“You started!” he defended, still giggling and caressing your back.
It took you fifteen minutes to disattach from each other, as Baekhyun said what you were suspicious about. “I'm gonna have to call back,” he trailed off.
You nodded and untangled yourself from him. “Right, you go do that. Is it work?”
“Yeah,” he said, already grabbing his phone and unlocking it.
“On Sunday, though?”
“It is some stuff that… need immediate action,” he said, the words sitting unsure on his tongue.
Immediate action?
It's not like he was a doctor working in a hospital.
Deciding not to pester him, you collected all the dishes and nodded when Baekhyun murmured a quick thanks while he waited for that Jiyoung to pick up the phone. And just when that happened, he abruptly stood up, and left for your bedroom where he closed the door.
-
Monday came fast and the dreaded visit to work came up as well. You weren't sure what was worse: going to work and knowing you would get immediate sack or going in unknowingly?
Well the current feeling was not sitting well with you, but on the good note, morning sickness was interestingly gone (for today at least), despite your stomach making nervous flips.
You decided to wear a pretty dark pink dress with an A skirt that would only gently reveal the baby bump which also seemed to grow in an inhumane speed given three babies were growing inside.
Baekhyun growled upon seeing you all finished up and ready to leave. Out of all the days, today you decided to wear a dress like this? He stepped closer to you, your winter jacket, a huge knitted scarf and a big beanie hanging on his arm. With his free hand he lustfully squeezed your backside as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, making you giggle. “Please promise me I will be the one taking this dress off tonight,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning over your erratic pulse. His actions were affecting you too much, but this was not the right time.
Moaning softly, you let out: “Yes, I promise. If I survive today.”
At that, Baekhyun huffed and leaned away, not happy with the uttered words. “I am coming with you anyway, so no need to worry, angel.” And with that he grabbed the scarf and threw it around you while he proceeded to put the beanie on the top of your head, making it almost fall to the ground. He threw the huge jacket around your shoulders, the pretty dress getting swollen up by the thick material.
“You don't have to,” you retorted looking up at his focused gaze as he circled and adjusted the scarf so that not an inch of your neck was poking out. “I can handle this on my own. I made the mess, and I will face him just like that.”
Baekhyun met your gaze for a second, his tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. “I don't care. He is an asshole. What if he will do something?”
“He can't do that,” you said, “it's an office, not a jail without CCTV cameras.”
He sighed and zipped the jacket all the way up, proceeding to properly look at you, his hands hanging next to his sides. “I just don't feel good about this.”
“This isn't anything huge. I will do just what you told me on Friday, hm?” you said gently, and combed his hair back. Baekhyun kept observing your actions, but interestingly, you really weren't scared. “I will accept what he gives and come back home. To you. And, I will call you as soon as I'm done with him.”
At that, he smiled and took the hand that was playing with his hair, giving it a kiss before bringing you closer so he could give you a peck. “Alright. But it isn't you who persuaded me,” he added, raising an index finger, “it's the fact that you listened to me well on Friday. Good girl,” and he gave you a loud smooch on the lips.
-
Just like that, you were standing in your boss's office, your head lowered in front of him but you weren't even sure why. Ah, right. Because Baekhyun punched him. It was obvious. Boss had a red splotch of a bruise on his lip and you tried not to wince because, damn. Master Baekhyun.
“As stated in the contract conditions, you are to stop working here with an immediate effect,” he said, trying hard not to snarl at you. Now that he could see the protruding bump, it was difficult for him to keep calm in your presence. He was truly disgusted. “Regardless of,” he continued and frowned harshly, “your co-workers begging me to keep you. I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY SAY, I'M THE BOSS HERE!” he shouted suddenly, looking behind you at the co-workers hiding behind the window and observing with held breaths. Your heartbeat became erratic, but you tried to calm yourself down at his sudden outburst, knowing you stressing like this could have a negative effect on you and the babies.
You weren't aware your co-workers were fighting for you. In fact, you were so embarrassed upon your arrival to work you almost didn't meet their gaze. But thankfully, you only received encouraging smiles. Especially Sukyoung was so supportive you felt like crying out of thankfulness.
“Anyway,” re-started your boss now piercing you with his cold stare. “Make sure you return your laptop to the IT, and lanyard to HR. Otherwise, you may go. You are free,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Sir,” you started. “You do realise that-”
“What,” he snapped angrily.
“Don't interrupt me. I am trying to talk after letting you rant,” you said, giving him a stern gaze which made him freeze. He never heard you talk back like that. But you had nothing to lose anymore. “Me getting pregnant doesn't say anything about me and my competency. You need to change your old beliefs because nobody will want to work with someone like you. If you think it is a privileged work, I will have you know it is not. You knew I was in dire need of money and bribed me into this position making me promise nonsense. It is my fault for accepting, but you should be ashamed for even thinking in such manner.” You paused to take a breath, feeling your knees becoming wobbly from the intense tension. “I am pregnant with three. So in case I do not make it, I will be able to at least die in peace for telling you finally what I thought. You act like what you do is important and look down on women but the reality is different, sir,” you said, your face relaxed unlike your passionate words. “Because you aren't sacrificing life. You are merely profiting. Meanwhile, I am sacrificing everything just to survive pregnancy and then safely give birth.” You shrugged and turned, making your way towards the door to his office. “I wish you lots of health in the upcoming years. That is what you need the most.”
You made sure to close the door gently behind you, not wanting to send signals of how actually annoyed you were if you were to slam the door shut but wow! Was it a good feeling to voice your piece of mind?
Proceeding to do everything he asked of you, you said bye to all your co-workers (it ended up taking more time than you anticipated, given how everyone was interested in you and the pregnancy) and Sukyoung was the one who came out of the office building, slowly walking with you to the nearest bus stop.
“I'm so proud of you,” she said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She was hugging herself, the chilly weather still strong enough to get in through her jacket. “You told him well. He deserved every single word you said. And, I don't want you to believe that you lost your job and now it is the end of the world. You are pregnant with triplets, so… listen to Baekhyun and try to stay home, hm?”
You smiled at her affectionately. “I will think about it. I have to go see the doctor every two weeks for regular check-ups but… I don't want to stay inactive, you know?”
She took your hand and squeezed it, returning your smile. “I understand you. I really do. But just try to think of your health first, okay?” she waited until you nodded. “I made some research, and triplet pregnancy is a high-risk one, dear. Please, be careful.”
Nodding again, you gave her a reassuring smile. “But we will meet soon, right?”
“Of course!” she exclaimed, jumping a bit out of excitement. “I want to use you while I can before you will be drowned in babies. Literally.”
That made you giggle and you hugged her one last time before saying bye. You were texting with Baekhyun and you decided you would surprise him at the university since you knew he had classes and afternoon work with his hapkido team.
As much as you felt down about your whole situation, you couldn't help feeling relieved. There wouldn't be any more nagging, pressure of the workplace and your terrible, terrible boss that obviously didn't appreciate women in any way or form. Certainly, you just lost a crucial monetary intake opportunity but you even thought about that while talking to Seokyeong just now. A way you could earn money.
The bus ride was terrible, packed till the ceiling of the loud vehicle, so you didn't get to sit down as you were hoping. The stress of the day has caught up to you and you slowly started to despise this ridiculous city of Seoul - there wouldn't be a place without a single person. Crowds everywhere.
You finally took a deep breath as you leisurely made your way through the pretty campus of the Sungkyunkwan university. Students were roaming outside, happy laughters here and there, nagging of the boys and girls blushing and smacking them playfully in the arm which would make them erupt into bigger giggles.
It made you smile, because it reminded you of your high school days - well, the beginning of them - as Baekhyun was trying to pursue you and you totally let him. All the moments before he left for the military and then after when he came back as a grown man.
Knowing well where to go, having already visited multiple times in the past, you crossed the park and headed for the sports department building. You checked your phone to find his latest reply:
when you get home write me ❤
It took you almost another ten minutes and finally you found the doors that led to the big gymnasium wide open, laughter and squeals coming out of there. It perked your interest because you always knew hapkido practice was anything but full of laughters and fooling around.
Taking hesitant steps towards the door, you carefully peeked in, not wanting to be spotted in case there would be someone you didn't know.
There were tens of students, working out, doing splits, jumping around and competing against each other. Spotting even some foreign students, you were reminded how you wanted Baekhyun to learn more English so he would get better chances of communication with them. You weren't seeing your boyfriend, though.
Just then, you heard his laughter. He was the one who was about to race with the row next to him.
“Can't wait to show who's the boss, master Baekhyun!” said the girl challengingly. They were all turnt with their backs to you, which made it difficult to make out any faces.
“You wish!” retorted Baekhyun loudly but with a playfulness tinting his voice and suddenly, they were both sprinting for their lives. Loud cheers erupted, chanting the names. Baekhyun! Jiyoung!
Jiyoung.
So she was the one calling him yesterday?
They both reached the finish line almost on time, Baekhyun winning by a split second which made him shout out loud, proud joy taking over his features. “I guess it's my team that wins!”
Jiyoung laughed, both of them turning to walk back which now helped you see them better. Interestingly, she had beautiful thick eyebrows, so unusual for a Korean. They were not arched, just having a natural curve that already stole your breath because… goals. Her eyes were big, almost exotic with a small, narrow nose and red lips that aren't thin, nor thick either. Her face was the perfect egg shape. Even her smile was enchanting.
“We will see for how long, master,” she was walking back, high-fiving her team when her eyes landed on you, a startled expression. “Oh? May I help you?”
All bodies turned, numerous pairs of eyes focused on you. You swallowed on a dry mouth when your boyfriend called out your name, surprised.
“What are you doing here?” he asked jogging towards you.
You quickly took a step back and out of the doorway so to avoid the curious eyes. You still overheard someone explaining: “It's master Baekhyun's girlfriend!”
“Oh is it?” Jiyoung asked with an undertone you couldn't quite pinpoint, but by then Baekhyun was standing in front of you, his wide frame taking up almost the entire doorway. He was out of breath but he smiled at you adoringly.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again and took in your shy face, a soft hue of pink on your cheekbones from all the attention. “So cute,” he murmured, ruffling your hair.
“I wanted to surprise you,” you admitted.
“Well, that worked,” he laughed cheerfully, obviously running on high energy levels due to the previous activities. He paused for a moment. “How did it go? Are you alright?” he asked, suddenly worried and stepping even closer to you.
“Yeah, everything is closed and finished,” you replied rather quietly, suddenly feeling an impending headache and tiredness. “I am not going back anymore.”
And there went the burning in your eyes that you had no clue you needed until that moment. Baekhyun meant always home to you, and at home was where you felt the most comfortable. Naturally, he would bring out all the pressed down emotions, except you had an inkling feeling this wasn't about you getting kicked out.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered and reached for the back of your head, bringing it to his chest while his other hand rested on your waist. “Sweetie, don't cry. I know it is hard, but it's for better.”
Fighting with the overwhelming need to just start a whole crying session, you gritted your teeth, and with all your willpower pushed away from him, flashbacks of him racing with that woman somehow tattooed even behind your eyelids. “It's fine. I-I will go home. Just,” you swallowed the painful bump, “just wanted to surprise you.” But you ended up surprising me. I shouldn't have come.
“What? Nonsense, stay until the practice is done.”
WHAT PRACTICE?! Did he mean that foolish competition?
“No-”
“Darling, you aren't feeling well and you are crying. I can't let you go home in this state.”
This just made you want to cry even more because he was being persistent and you didn't want to stay. Since when was he making you do things that made you uncomfortable? “No, I don't want to stay.”
That seemed to make him go quiet and hurt flashed across his face before it was replaced by confusion. “Did something happen? Did he do something to you?”
Shaking your head was a better option, feeling how your throat was getting restricted.
Baekhyun was silent, carefully watching your face and the glistening eyes. He didn't understand you - your sudden refusal when you usually enjoyed watching him lead his class.
Taking a deep breath, you quickly stood on your tiptoes, kissing his hot cheek. “I'll see you at home.”
“Baby,” he murmured, voice low. You knew what that meant; he was not happy with you. “Just tell me what's wr-”
“Master Baekhyun!” Few seconds later, Jiyoung appeared, and you were able to see her features up close that seemed to be even more beautiful. Her skin was on a darker side, you took notice. She was looking at his back when her eyes fell on you and she said: “We are about to start. Hi!”
Giving her a weak smile, you nodded at her before looking up at the strict gaze of Baekhyun. Without even looking back, he said: “I'll be there in a minute.”
Jiyoung not expecting a cold shoulder, froze ever so slightly, before acknowledging and leaving hesitantly.
“You should go,” you said, happy your blurry vision cleared up. “I'll see you at home, hm?”
Scrutinizing you a little longer, he sighed eventually. “Okay, fine. I am trusting you on this,” he emphasized, giving you a narrow-eyed stare that seemed to contradict his statement.
You tried hard not to scoff, still unsure where were these emotions coming from. “Sure. Bye.”
Baekhyun stood speechless when you turned around and just left. Your walking was stiff and a bit heavy, definitely a sign that you were pregnant and most probably tired. But he knew you all too well, and he knew something was up.
When he returned back to his team and to Jiyoung, he offered an apologetic smile and stood right in the middle in front of his students and next to Jiyoung. “Attention!” he shouted and just like that he immersed himself into his work and passion, an uneasy feeling simmering in his stomach.
#baekhyun fanfiction#baekhyun angst#baekhyun fic#baekhyun fluff#baekhyun scenario#baekhyun imagine#exo fanfiction#exo au#kpop fanfiction#kpop au#kpop fanfic#kpop imagine#exo imagine
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New Beginnings
Summary: Mingi and Yunho go to her house for New Years to have a little time with her over the holidays. Friendly competition and and affection mark the day with a mix of old and new traditions.
Wordcount: 2.9k
Content warnings: This is basically pure family fluff. There is kissing, board games, and a little bit of good natured competition.
“Welcome, boys,” her mother said, greeting them at the door when they arrived. “I’m so glad to have you here.”
“Thanks for letting us come over,” Mingi smiled at her mother as she pulled him into a hug as he stepped inside. She then did the same to Yunho as he stepped inside behind him.
“You both look wonderful,” Her mother beamed at them. “Have you gotten bigger since Thanksgiving?”
“They probably have,” She replied to her mother from her seat on the couch near the Christmas tree. “They eat enough at home they have to still be growing or else they would be three hundred pounds.”
“That’s how it is with boys,” her mother laughed. “Just make sure they have enough to eat and they will sprout like weeds.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m getting chubby,” Mingi sighed, poking a finger at his imagined belly.
“Mmm, sure honey,” she gave him a skeptical look from her seat.
“No, look,” he protested, coming to sit himself down beside her. Taking her hand in his, he put it on his stomach, just below the belly button. “See?” He moved her hand so she could feel the jiggle he was sure he was developing there.
“I feel skin,” she blinked at him. “And muscle.”
“No one believes me,” Mingi sighed and made a pouty face.
“Well, you look good chubby,” San placated from where he was stretched out in the big armchair across the room.
“Thank you!” Mingi said with a forceful gratitude. “I hate being skinny.”
“Okay, I don’t think you are getting a pooch or something,” she said from beside him, moving her hand from his stomach to cover one of his own. “But you are getting cuter as you get older.”
“Really?” Mingi looked at her hopefully. She nodded at him and gave a chuckle.
“What about me?” Yunho asked, sitting at her feet and putting his open hands under his chin to frame and present his face to her.
“You too,” she agreed. “You both are getting ever cuter and more handsome, right mom?”
“It’s true,” her mother agreed, amused by the strange dynamic her daughter had with the boys in her life. Again she was forced to wonder why she had never picked one as a boyfriend. Now it wasn’t just those two boys, but San as well. She sighed and shook her head. Maybe she just didn’t understand kids these days.
“Okay, who is ready to play a game?” Her father asked as he came into the room. “We have hours and this is the only time of year I have a captive audience.”
“Sure I’m down,” she agreed, taking her hand off of Mingi. Yunho, San, Mingi, and her mother all agreed as well. Her father was well pleased to have a full set of people to play with. They agreed to start with a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit, a favorite game of both father and daughter.
“You all might regret agreeing to this game,” her mother warned the boys as they all picked their empty circular pie game piece.
“Why?” San asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Those two get competitive,” her mother answered as she indicated her two family members with some decidedly enthusiastic pointing.
“I’m only like that with him,” she said defensively. “Someone has to stand up to him.”
“Ha, you only beat me last year because I was having an off day,” her father scoffed and sent her a challenging look.
“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” She raised a challenging eyebrow to him. The game started with San rolling the highest and winning the chance to be the first player in the game. He successfully answered one question, but failed the second, neither of which were yet in a space where he could earn a wedge. Her father went next and missed his first question, something that made him grumble quietly as the next few people went.
Finally it was her turn. She rolled and landed on a spot for Sports and leisure, leaving Yunho to ask her the question. He pulled the card out, hiding the back with his large hand as he found the question corresponding to the color and subject.
“What goo—“ was all he got out before she sat up straight and interrupted to answer.
“Silly Putty.” She said eagerly.
Yunho stopped, looked at her, then turned the card in his hand, careful to keep the answer hidden. “That...that is correct. How did...just how?”
“No, no way,” Her dad protested. “You cheated. You must have shown her the answer.”
“How? When?” She pointed out with a confident sass.
“You can’t...HE GOT OUT TWO WORDS!?!” He sputtered.
“And I got the right answer,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “So then I get to roll again.”
“You...you…” her father gestured at the board a couple of times before he wilted and gave up his protests. “Just roll again.”
“Thank you, I will,” she jutted out her chin and picked up the die to throw it again. On her second roll she landed on a spot with the possibility of getting a wedge with a correct answer. She did, much to her father’s grumbling, being the first of the players to get a wedge, at least partially due to luck. With the correct answer she had another roll and lucked into a roll again spot, then to another spot where she could win a wedge. Her father insisted on being the one to ask her the question
“How many states border the Gulf of Mexico?” He asked, being very careful to hide the back of the card from her.
“Well Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas...so five,” she reasoned out.
“Correct,” Her father pursed his lips. “That was too easy for a wedge.” He grumped even as he pulled a blue one out for her to put in. She rolled again and landed on a square for arts and literature.
“This French artist became known for his lithographic posters.” Her father read out and Yunho felt a surge of pride when he heard the question. He knew she knew the answer to that, heck, he knew the answer to that because of her.
“Seurat,” she answered after a pause and a look that Yunho couldn’t quite read.
“Ha, no, Toulouse-Lautrec,” Her father gave a satisfied smile and encouraged San to pick up the die and take his turn. Yunho looked down at her, trying to read her expression again.
“Can you help me get a drink?” He asked her, giving her a little elbow and a look. She nodded and stood up, following him the short distance to the kitchen. He let her pull a cup from the cabinet, which put her out of sight of everyone in the living room, before he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I know you knew the answer to that question.”
“It’s no fun if the game ends too fast,” she shrugged and answered back.
“How long has it been since this game was a challenge for you?” Yunho asked, gently caressing her arm.
“A couple of years,” she admitted, looking up at him with a smile. “But it’s still fun to play.”
“Just...don’t let him win to be nice,” he told her gently. “I think he’ll be proud of you really.”
“I know, but no one will play with you if you win in like two turns,” she pointed out.
“It’s so hot that you’re smart,” he groaned.
“Mmmm, sexy big brain,” she joked back before heading to the fridge to pull out the soda to pour some for him.
“Hell yeah,” he whispered from behind her, sneaking a squeeze of her butt just before they would enter the view of everyone else. They returned to the game as her mother took her turn. Rounds passed and it was, as predicted, mostly a battle between father and daughter, with everyone else doing their best but really thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of the battle between the two of them. It took, or perhaps she let it last, an hour and a half before she landed in the center spot again and answered a final question of her choice to win the game. Her father sighed and extended a hand of congratulations to her. He had managed to gather five of six wedges, leaving him in second place with San and Mingi one behind him. Yunho and her mother had three each and were plenty pleased with the results, having had fun both playing and watching everyone else play the game.
With hours to kill still, her father suggested a game of monopoly which was met with a chorus of groans and flat out no from her mother. He protested, saying it would be fun and they had plenty of time before the New Years Extravaganza show even started. He finally settled for playing a game of backgammon with his daughter, which was really what he wanted most. He would never have asked her to stay at home or to go somewhere closer, but he missed having her around. Playing games with the whole family was great, her friends were wonderful, but he missed spending time with her.
While they played, everyone else hung out, socialized, and showed off the things they had gotten for Christmas. Jacob showed San and Mingi his new games and they played a couple of rounds with him on the little portable player. San and Mingi mostly had fun sabotaging each other as they went around the little race track, primarily focusing on making sure the other person didn’t finish ahead of them.
Dinner was a mix of the last of the leftovers along with a mix of anything quick and easy people wanted to make for themselves. Mingi made himself a bowl of ramen and shared it with her as she played a second game of backgammon with her father. Mingi had to admit, not knowing the rules of the game, it mostly seemed like an incomprehensible jumble of rolling and moving things around in strange ways. Mingi sat and watched, feeding her an occasional slurp of noodles.
By the time the second game ended the New Year’s Extravaganza was beginning on TV and her mother had switched it on in the background. Everyone settled in to relax and watch the series of performers and over excited hosts as they talked with various famous people who came and went on the Times Square stage. They recognized some of the people, but not all. It didn’t really matter though, they were there for the spectacle of the crowds all stuffed in together cheering whenever the camera panned their way. Their collective breaths clung in the still, cold air as they breathed, chatted, and shouted excitedly, waiting for midnight.
At home they watched all the buzz of the excitement in a lazy comfort. Having finished the last game with her father, she was stretched out on the couch, her feet resting on San’s lap with her boys sitting near her on the floor, leaning against the couch. Her brother was still glued to his new game and handheld player, his face a mask of concentration as he played. Her parents were seated together in the armchair watching the program and talking quietly.
When it was quarter to midnight her mother got out a couple of bottles of sparkling juice and champagne flutes for everyone so they could all toast and ring in the New Year. Everyone was given a glass and poured a little of the champagne stand in and the program on the TV was turned up to listen to the last few hyped minutes of the program.
“Oh I almost forgot!” Her mother exclaimed suddenly.
“Mom, you’re not getting the herring,” her daughter cringed.
“It’s good luck,” her mother responded as she passed her on the way into the kitchen.
“Awww mom,” Jacob shook his head and made a face.
“It’s just a bite,” her mother scolded, coming back with the jar of pickled herring and a small fork. “And if it brings you good luck then it’s worth it isn’t it?”
“It’s a superstition, mom,” she pointed out. “There is no evidence for, like, any of that.”
“And it does you no harm to have a bite...just in case,” her mother wagged her finger at her. Her daughter rolled her eyes and huffed, but let it go.
Finally the time came and everyone counted down to midnight. On the TV, the people on the stage shouted the countdown loudly as the numbers flashed on some of the huge screens across Time Square and the large ball flashed brightly in various patterns as it prepared to drop. Midnight hit, the ball fell, and cheers rose both from the crowd in and inside the warm living room. Everyone toasted each other and took a sip as the strains of Auld Lang Syne played on the television. The camera pulled back and eventually faded to a shot of the city from the water, showing the colorful burst of fireworks happening against the iconic New York City skyline.
Her mother and father gave each other a quick kiss and her brother sipped his drink and made a little oh brother face. Mingi’s eyes flashed to Yunho and then to their girl. Yunho flashed him a small, understanding smile back, communicating I know, me too. He wanted to kiss them, to celebrate that moment with them like any other couple could. But they couldn’t, not here, not with her parents.
Behind them San caught the look they shared, understanding the emotions behind it. An idea struck him, it was weird, it might not go over well, but hell, it was worth a try. San sat up straight, cleared his throat and gave Mingi’s shoulder a tap. Sitting in front of him on the floor, Mingi turned to look at San with a questioning expression on his face. San took his cheeks between his hands and angled his head slightly before pressing a close-lipped kiss to him.
To say that Mingi was surprised was perhaps an understatement. Mingi froze under the kiss, not quite sure how he was supposed to react. San pulled back then scooted closer to her on the couch, pulling her into a close mouthed kiss as well. When he had left her well and truly surprised, he moved on to Yunho. When he pulled back, he paused near Yunho’s ear and whispered. “Now you can kiss them and all they are going to remember is that I started this.”
A surprised expression spread across Yunho’s face as he realized what exactly San had just managed to do. He had given them cover for a New Year’s kiss, even though it was probably at the expense of a good amount of his dignity, but he still did it. Yunho turned where he sat and pulled her into a soft and innocent kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek for a moment as he did. He pulled back before he wanted to, but knowing that he couldn’t take too much license. He leaned over to Mingi and shared a kiss with him as well. Mingi crawled over to get his kiss in with their girl, sneaking in a squeeze to her hand as he brushed his lips over hers.
“You know,” her father observed, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his neck. “Friendship has really changed since I was a kid.”
“No, they’re all just weird,” Jacob said, blinking at them for a couple more seconds before he went back to his game.
By quarter to one the boys were bid good night and sent home with hugs and warm wishes. She promised to come over in the next couple of days and see Yunho and his mother. It had been too long since she had been able to see her, she admitted. Yunho and Mingi were sad to go and wanted more than anything a moment alone with her, but it was not to be.
In her house everyone shuffled off to bed after brushing their teeth and washing up. Work would start in another day or two for her parents and it was only a week until they all went back to school. She couldn’t wait. She ended up in the bathroom with San, brushing her teeth at the same time as they got ready to bed.
“So, I guess I owe you something,” she said quietly after spitting.
“Nah,” San told her after rinsing his mouth out. “What is a big brother for except helping you outwit the parents for a good cause?”
“You… are a sneaky bastard and I am going to remember this,” she laughed. “I look forward to you using my IOU for a visit.”
“Yeah?” San asked, pulling her into a hug.
“Yeah,” she nodded her head where it rested against his chest. “Best big brother, ever.”
“So you’re gonna keep me?” He teased, leaning his head on top of hers.
“Looks like,” she laughed. “Happy New Year and welcome to the family, like for real.”
“Thank you, Chipmunk,” he nuzzled into her hair, happy to have had such a wonderful place and wonderful people to start fresh with.
Masterlist
#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez smut#song mingi#jeong yunho#ateez imagines#kpop imagines#kpop fluff#mingi#yunho#choi san#mingi x reader#yunho x reader
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the sugar bowl
author’s note: hello friends! the wonderful @guaxinimraccoon has let me use their equally wonderful characters, Brad, Toby, and Siri, to write a fic! please go check them out-- their art is super awesome. i ended up writing a lot more than i expected, but i still love it! this was super fun to make and i’m excited to see what you guys think :). enjoy!
warnings: mild panic & mild swearing but that’s about it
word count: 2.4k
part one | part two
“TOBY? ARE YOU READY?”
After a fitful sleep, Tobias could barely stand to listen to the noise around him. It wasn’t much: the water rushing through the pipes, the skitter of the mice outside his home in the walls. And now, Siri tugging on his leg as he struggled to relax on his hacky-sack chair.
“C’mon, man,” she said, huffing a laugh. “You promised you’d grab some more paper and bread like, yesterday. And that you would get sugar.” Toby didn’t know why she even had the time to pick up a hobby as boring as drawing. There wasn’t much to draw in their little home. He’d rather just try and continue his eventful dream instead of getting dressed just for some scraps.
But he had to. It was his duty as a borrower and as Siri’s best friend.
“Alright, alright.” He got to his feet and ran his hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “But this means you’re making dinner tonight, right?” Before she could protest, he added, “Better start cooking that soup now.”
Siri put on a pouty glare, but her pointed ears twitched with amusement. “Yeah. Whatever,” she mumbled. But she couldn’t keep her face up long. Soon, it disappeared into a grin. He wasn’t prepared when she threw her arms around his neck in an excited hug. “You’re the best, Toby.”
Tobias couldn’t stop himself from smiling, too. “Yeah. I know.”
She waved as he disappeared down the corridor. Neither of them could’ve known what was waiting for him.
***
Ever since Brad moved out of his parents’ place, he knew only one thing: solitary. Not that he necessarily minded — he wasn’t the most extroverted person. Even in college, he would stay in his dorm with a pizza and Netflix while his roommate hit frat parties. In the two years they lived together, they must’ve only spoken a total of eleven words to each other.
But what he did mind was the endless, repetitive schedule. Wake up, check his phone. Have breakfast, take a shower, brush his teeth, pop an aspirin for his morning headache. Head to work and return to boxed mac-n-cheese dinner (or, if he was feeling adventurous, spaghetti). He wanted something exciting, even if excitement, for him, meant taking a different route to work. But he was too afraid of change.
What he found on Saturday evening really threw a wrench into the gears of his brain.
He got home to an empty apartment. Nothing special: a hand-me-down couch next in front of a 90s TV. He contemplated just napping on the couch for a bit before dinner, but he never did that. So instead, Brad took off his shoes, hung up his coat, and headed to the kitchen. There was some leftover tuna salad that he could munch on if he didn’t feel like cooking.
Nothing special.
That is, until he stood up.
He probably wouldn’t have heard it if he was distracted, but it was real and oh-so-soft. A rustle from deep inside his cabinet. Brad could feel his heart stop. Did he have mice? No, that couldn’t be. He cleaned out his cupboard pretty frequently. Bugs? That would be even worse.
Shff. There it was again. It sounded too… heavy to be a roach. Whatever the little thing was, it rattled his cereal boxes. And then, the telltale clatter of the sugar bowl top falling onto the shelf.
Wait, what? Okay. That was weird. Brad took a deep breath. His interest had piqued. He had to see what this thing was.
With a silent prayer, he opened the cabinet.
***
Paper? Check. Bread? Check. Toby was still dusting his knees off as he remembered that he was still missing something: sugar. With a groan, he got to his feet and shuffled over to his hook. “Damn Siri and her sweet tooth,” he muttered (though he’d never admit to her that he enjoyed something sweet every now and then).
He didn’t notice the front door open and the giant enter. He was distracted by the looming jar in front of him. It was difficult getting the lid off, but with a sharp tug and a grunt, it fell to the floor of the cabinet and he prepared to dive in to get a cube.
But before he could get very far, the cabinet door swung open, and light invaded.
And Toby was face-to-face with the human of the apartment.
Brad wasn’t sure what he was looking at. A little man…? A four-inch-tall person, not much bigger than his finger, was standing by his sugar bowl. Pointed ears, wild, electric blue hair, and even wilder eyes stared him down. A patchy bag sat at his feet, and patchy clothing hung off of his thin frame. Was he drunk? High? Did someone roofie his coffee?
Whatever composure Brad had left him. “Wow,” he whispered. Just a breath seemed like enough to knock the little guy over. “Hey, there, du—”
Toby didn’t hesitate to whip his needle out. “Back!” he tried to snap, though it was more like a squeak. God, he must’ve looked pathetic. His legs were jelly. Every bit of him trembled. “St-stay back!”
The giant blinked. He shook his head of shaggy black hair, rubbed his eyes with unfathomably huge fists. Toby did his best to suppress a lame whimper when those hands appeared. “So I’m not dreaming,” he said, more to himself than to Toby. It took every ounce of courage not to cry.
The bean, however, seemed to notice his fear. “Wait, little dude, hey…” He eyed the needle warily. “You don’t hafta be afraid.” Toby didn’t believe him for a second.
The borrower looked suspicious. “Back up,” the little guy growled, and surprisingly, Brad obliged. He took a step away so he didn’t tower over him (and so he didn’t suffer the wrath of his needle).
How did Brad look right now? He wasn’t the biggest person around, but he certainly wasn’t the smallest in his family. Even so, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He couldn’t even bring himself to squish spiders. He’d always trap them in a cup and usher them onto the balcony. This little person, though, didn’t know that. He held his needle-sword up high, his toothpick arms shaking all the while. It practically broke Brad’s heart.
What’s this guy doing? Toby thought. Nothing was stopping him from snatching him up in a fist and stuffing him in a jar or a shoebox. Was he luring him into a false sense of safety just so his experiments would hurt more? Was he p—
“Hey, man, you okay?” The bean’s thick brows were knit together with concern. “You’re looking a little pale.”
“Wouldn’t y-you be?” Toby scoffed before he could stop himself. Man, I’m so dead. “I-I-I mean, someone as big as you is a little Goddamn terrifying! God knows what the hell you’re gonna do to me! ” He snapped his mouth shut. He’s gonna fucking kill me for real now.
“What I’m gonna d— No, buddy, I swear I’m n—”
“Stay. Back.” Holy fuck, what am I doing?! Toby thought. The most he could do was poke the bean’s finger with his needle, but that would only make him angry. He contemplated running, but his thought dissipated when he realized the giant would have plenty of time to stop him.
Brad’s jaw went slack. For such a little guy, he sure was brave. But after a beat, his words finally sunk in. “Wait. C’mon, man. I’m not— I’m not gonna do anything to you. I’m just. I’m just surprised. I mean, it’s not every day you find a little man in your cabinet.” With a chuckle, he asked, “So are you gonna start paying me rent, or what?” It didn’t immediately dawn on him that this tiny person probably didn’t know what rent even was.
Toby frowned. What the hell is this guy talking about? More to the point, what game is he playing?
With a frown, Brad took another small step back so he didn’t smother the little guy and held up his palms. “Okay, okay, look. I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. Cool?” He didn’t respond, but his shaking arm did lower the needle a bit. That’s a start.
Brad heaved a sigh that ruffled Toby’s wild hair. “Right. Uhm. I’m… I’m sorry for scaring you, dude. I didn’t mean it. I swear.” He fiddled with his thumbs. A shy look crept over his face. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Brad. What’s your name?”
For a moment, Brad was afraid that the guy was too terrified to answer. But then came the timid voice, so quiet compared to the man’s earlier jab. “Toby.”
Just play it cool, Toby thought. Do what he wants and maybe he’ll let you live.
“Toby. That’s a cool name.” A set of teeth that could snap Toby in half without a second thought were bared at him in a wide smile. Toby could barely hold his ground without flinching. “Wait… You were here for food, right?”
Toby’s heart skipped a beat. “You… You’re not mad, a-are you?”
“No!” Brad said, maybe a little too quickly, because the little guy— Toby — flinched. “I promise I’m not mad,” he added. “Y’know, I was, uh. I was gonna have dinner, anyway. How ‘bout you eat with me? You look like you could use a hot meal.”
“Oh,” Toby said lamely. His head was going a million miles an hour. Was this Brad guy serious? He just found a tiny creature going through his food, and he’s offering him dinner? It’s gotta be a joke, right? Some weird, fucked-up joke. But instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Uh. S-sure.”
Brad couldn’t stop a grin from crossing his face. “Cool. Cool, cool cool. How does pasta sound?”
“P-pasta sounds great.” My God, Siri’s gonna kill me if this guy doesn’t.
“Awesome. Wait here.” The bean ducked out of sight, his footsteps rattling Toby’s entire world.
Is this a trick? Is he gonna put something in the pasta? Why, why did I say yes?! God, Toby, you fuckin’— It took him a while, but Toby finally came to his senses: the giant was gone.
The giant was gone!
He’d left him to his own devices. Never, in all of his years, had Toby heard of a human who would do that. His parents had always told him that humans were malevolent giants that wouldn’t let you go the minute they got their hands on you. Clearly, they were wrong. At least Brad wasn’t like that.
In spite of that, Toby was scared shitless. Every cell in his body begged him to leave, but his feet were rooted to the spot. But did he want to leave? After all, the giant did just offer him a free meal. And he was nice. He didn’t grab Toby, or even talk too loud. And he listened.
One thought trumped all of that: Siri. God, she was probably terrified, wondering where her friend was. On the other hand, she might’ve been ready to jump him when he returned after a talk with a human. Should he go home, or risk it all for some pasta and the chance that he might not die?
Toby was at a crossroads.
***
Brad was over-the-moon. Who would’ve thought that he’d be making dinner for a little, blue-haired guy? An unknown roommate, a potential friend? This was the kind of change he needed.
With a triumphant hiss, he pulled exactly what he needed from his desk drawer: a spool of stiff art wire from his more creative days. He could bend together a little set of utensils so the guy didn’t have to eat with his hands.
“Alright, buddy!” he called as he returned to his kitchen. “It won’t be much, but I promise it’ll be ta— Oh.”
The cupboard was empty. All that was left was the tiny patchwork bag near the sugar bowl. Somewhere, deep inside his chest, Brad’s heart broke just a little bit. Why am I feeling like this? For some tiny dude I met ten minutes ago?
He let out a defeated sigh. Not that he could blame him. Brad couldn’t imagine how terrifying he must’ve seemed to a four inch tall man. Toby wasn’t even the size of his hand. It’s not your fault. With that in mind, he grabbed a pot from under the sink and started boiling water for his dinner. A pasta dinner just for him. Not for two.
At least he knew he wasn’t dreaming.
***
Toby was out of breath when he finally reached his door.
It was late, but Siri was definitely still up and waiting impatiently. How was he going to explain his borrowing run to her? If he told her he was spotted, they would without a doubt have to pack up and leave, which was tedious. That, and they probably would have to live with a human that didn’t have good snacks.
He took a deep breath. He would be honest. Yeah, honest. Brad wasn’t murderous or enraged when he found Toby looting for sugar. He was good, and nice. Siri would understand. He pushed the door aside and entered his home.
Sure enough, Siri was waiting on his hacky-sack chair. But when she spotted him, she looked relieved, not angry. “Good grief!” she cried, charging into him. Her hands shook from where they rested on his arms. “Shit, Toby, were you gone a long time. I thought you were dead!” Toby didn’t have the energy to respond as she looked him up and down. “Where’s your bag?”
Fuck. My bag. He must’ve left it by the sugar bowl in his desperation to leave. “Rats,” he said blankly. What happened to being honest? “I ran into a couple of extra territorial ones on my way back. I gave them my bag to distract them so I could get away.” He feigned an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Siri. I’ll go again tomorrow. Promise.”
He prayed and prayed that Siri would believe him. With a sigh, she shook her head.
“No, Toby, it’s okay.” His friend patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve had quite a day already. Go on and sit down, I’ll fix you a bowl.” As she turned away, every muscle in his body relaxed. He could’ve died twice today and still he managed to come out unhurt.
Still. He flopped down in his hacky-sack chair and blew his bangs out of his face. There was something missing, and it wasn’t his borrowing bag.
Why did he feel so bad?
#giant/tiny#g/t#g/t writing#brad#toby#siri#not my characters#fluff#i am definitely gonna make a part 2#this is so fun!!!#:)#mustard writes
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The Lighthouse (8/??)
Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upsidedown when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.
A/N: I know it won’t be enough, but questions will be fully answered soon enough! But until I can get around to that, please have this! A couple of idiots and more Loki
Pairing: ThorxReader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: None
Part 7
“How did you know where he was?”
I shrug and grab the cereal from the cupboard. “I heard a voice that told me to get up and when to stop driving. Everything else was just a gut feeling.”
“Was it Heimdall?” Thor asks.
“No, he said as much last night. But he heard the voice too.”
Thor sets bowls on the table and moves to get spoons. “Did he feel the same pull?”
“I don’t think so.” I grab the milk and take a seat at the table. “He didn’t seem to feel any compulsion.”
“But he was much further away from Loki’s location than you were.” Thor sits and pours himself a bowl of cereal. “It would make sense that you were the one guided to Loki’s location.”
I laugh. “I don’t know if I’d say I was guided. It was more like being dragged along behind a horse. I didn’t know exactly what was going to happen until the end. Even then, it wasn’t exactly pretty.”
He hums. “You did scare me half to death.”
I nodded. “I know, and I really am sorry about that.”
“I know you are.” He shoots me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to apologize anymore, (Y/N). I understand why you kept it from me.”
“I know. I just still feel bad about the whole thing.”
“I know.”
We eat in silence and I nearly doze off at one point, but Thor reaches across the table and takes my hand. I shake my head and squeeze his hand before going back to my cereal. Thor finishes before me and waits till I’m done before taking my bowl and doing the dishes.
“When do you think he’ll wake?” Thor muses.
“I’m not sure. It took him weeks to crash land, and even then he showed up weeks after I found you.” I shrug. “I’m not even sure he showed up in the same fashion as you did.”
“Oh?”
“Heimdall and I were talking about why he bounced around so much while we were looking for him. My guess is that, whatever it was that messed with your memories, might’ve knocked him off course when Heimdall sent him away.”
“What does Heimdall think?”
“Heimdall doesn’t really have much to go off either. Everyone that I’m in contact with is just as informed as I am, which is to say, we know jack shit about the situation right now. But, if this is anything like when I found you, then it might be a few days till he starts to wake up. I had you here two before you woke up, but I don’t know how long you were out in those woods before I found you.”
Thor nods. “Then we can only hope that he’ll wake soon.”
“Mhm.”
“Do you have any plans for the day?”
“Just working. New assignments have come in and we slept through most of the day, so I’m getting a late start.”
“Ah, sorry.”
“It’s no big deal, we both needed the rest.” I get up from the table and move across the room to kiss his cheek. “If you’ve got any ideas for dinner, let me know, okay?”
“Of course.” He smiles and gestures for me to go. “I’ll come get you for a break in a few hours.”
I grin and head for the stairs. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Thor quietly slips into my office and slits on the floor beside me. Daisy trails in shortly after and plops down beside him. She huffs when he doesn’t immediately scratch her ears.
“I take it you checked on Loki, then?” I ask, not looking away from my work.
“Yes.”
“Any updates?”
He shakes his head and rests his forehead on my thigh. He sighs when I comb my fingers through his hair. “Nothing so far.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He hasn’t even moved.” His shoulders slump and he leans a little more heavily against me. “It’s only been two days, but I can’t help being impatient.”
“I know. You’re worried about your brother. It’s only natural.”
“It’s strange, though,” he says. “He and I have always been at odds. We’ve fought countless times, but I’ve watched him die twice. I’ve had to mourn his loss twice. I’m not sure that I can go through that a third time.”
I push away from the desk slightly and take his face in my hands. “I’m sure that everything will be fine. He was out there for a long time, and we don’t know what kind of energy he expended.”
“Right.” He covers one of my hands with his. “I’m sure he just needs to rest.”
“He’s strong, Thor. I’m sure he’ll be up before we know it.”
“Thank you, (Y/N).”
“It’s nothing to thank me for.”
“You sell yourself so short,” he says softly. “I’ll make you recognize how wonderful you are one day.”
“Thor…”
He smiles. “But that won’t be today.” He hauls himself up from the floor. “I’ve distracted you for long enough, I’ll let you get back to work.”
“I’ll be done in half an hour. We can talk more then, if you want?”
He stoops down and kisses my forehead. “I’d like that.”
Thor pats his leg to get Daisy’s attention and gestures for her to follow him out of the room. She shoots me a tired look and I laugh as she trots out to the stairs after Thor. I do my best to finish with work, but it takes fifteen minutes longer than I initially expected. When I finally manage to make it downstairs, I collapse on the couch beside Thor.
“I had to talk them out of concussion induced pyrokinesis,” I mutter.
“I have no idea what that means,” Thor says.
I scrub my hands over my face and curl into his side. “Because it’s something that shouldn’t reasonably exist, even in fiction.”
He laughs. “Did you succeed?”
“Eventually. I just have to hope they don’t try to sneak it in somewhere else later on.”
“I’m sure you’ll prevail in the end.”
I shake my head. “I appreciate your optimism.”
He hums and kisses the top of my head. “We should talk.”
“I agree.”
“I don’t want to force anything on you,” he says. “We kissed two nights ago, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“I think it should. After the time we’ve spent together and what we’ve been through, I know that it’s not just some schoolgirl crush. I actually like you. Especially when I get to think for myself about it.” His brow furrows. “Heimdall likes to meddle sometimes. But no one’s had to convince me that I like you.”
He smiles. “It looks like our roles have switched, doesn’t it?”
“It certainly does.” I take his hand. “But I meant what I said that night. My feelings for you are real. I’m not going to be shy about it, especially when I’m this comfortable with you.”
He sighs softly. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
I reach up and brush my fingers over his cheek. “You said I was wonderful earlier, but I don’t get how you can’t see how much light you put out into the world.”
“Maybe it’s just reflected back at me,” he offers.
“If that’s the case, then maybe I need to put you in front of a mirror. Reflect some of that energy directly back into you.” I push myself up from the couch and attempt to drag Thor up with me. “Come on. I’m hungry and I think we’ve still got stroganoff leftovers in the fridge.”
He laughs and allows himself to be led into the kitchen. “Do you always think with your stomach?”
“Not always, but you’re certainly one to talk!” Thor tries to look offended, but only succeeds in making himself laugh harder. “Your appetite is astounding.”
“I am a big man, (Y/N),” he says. “And beyond that, I am a god. Sometimes I need to eat more than a human does.”
“I know,” I dig around in the fridge for the leftovers. “I’m just poking a little fun.”
I glance back and find him leaning against the counter, arms folded, small smile playing at his lips. “I know you are.”
I pull the leftovers from the fridge. “You wanna try this the way my grandfather liked to eat it?”
Walking past Loki’s room a couple of days later, I heard a quiet shuffling. Thor hadn’t mentioned any kind of change in his brother when we talked earlier, so I open the door just a crack and peek inside.
Loki is sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. I almost step into the room, but I stop myself short, realizing that he doesn’t know me. I don’t want him to panic and not have any way to calm him down.
Instead, I run out to the back yard to let Thor know that Loki is awake.
“What?” he yells back.
“He’s awake!” I holler. “Come inside, I’m gonna need your help!”
He calls out his confirmation and I head back inside. I grab a glass of water for Loki before I go back upstairs and very, very slowly open the door.
He sits with his head in his hands, and I can’t tell if he’s heard me come in. I gently knock on the door to get his attention and his head jerks up at the sound. I wave and step into the room.
“It’s good to see you awake,” I say. “We were starting to think you’d be out forever.”
“What?”
“We found you almost five days ago.” I cross the room to hand him the glass of water. “You didn’t even move until today, I don’t think.”
“Who is ‘we’?” he asks.
“It’s just Thor and I.”
“Thor?” He perks up slightly.
“Yeah, he should be here soon.”
“Where is he?” He shoots up from the bed and I stumble back when he reaches out for me. “Tell me, woman!”
I drop the water and throw my hands up to shield myself. Loki never makes contact, and it takes a moment for me to realize that there’s a semi-visible barrier between us. I stare at my hands, surprised.
“Where is my Brother!” Loki yells.
He pounds against the shield and I stumble over my own feet and fall to the floor. The shield flickers briefly, but I manage to hold it steady. This only serves to further infuriate him and I cringe each time he slams his fists against the shield.
“Heimdall, what do I do?!”
“Hold the shield and wait for Thor.”
“That’s it?!”
“What is it that you expect me to do, (Y/N)?”
“I don’t know, I’m freaking out, here!” I yell for Thor, and hope that he can hear me. “Stop punching the shield, you’re just gonna wind up hurting yourself!”
“Drop the shield, and I’ll show you just what the meaning of hurt is,” Loki hisses.
“You know what, I don’t really like the sound of that.”
He pushes harder, and I can feel the shield straining under my hold. I can faintly hear Thor’s heavy footsteps in the stairwell, and I push all that I can into maintaining the shield. Just as cracks start to spiderweb across the surface,Thor steps into the room. Loki sees him and stops his assault against my magic, relaxing enough that I can let the shield go. I lie back on the floor, one arm flung over my face, taking deep heaving breaths.
“(Y/N), are you alright?” Thor asks.
I nod and point at Loki. “Put him in a bubble till you could get here.”
“You put him in a bubble?!”
“He moved faster than I expected. It was the first thing that popped into my head.”
“Why are you on the floor?”
“He punched the shield and startled me.”
I hear him shift towards his brother. “You tried to attack her?!”
“You say that as if I’m supposed to know who she is or where I am.”
“You shouldn’t have to know someone to know not to attack them.” Thor crouches down beside me and helps me sit up. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”
“It’s fine, he doesn’t know where he is.” I feel Loki’s eyes on me and I glance up at him. “What?”
Loki snorts and turns his attention to Thor. “Really, brother? Another human?”
“Excuse me? You’re in my house, in my bed. If it weren’t for this human, you’d probably be choking on sand right about now.”
Loki’s brows pull together and he looks to his brother for confirmation. Thor just nods.
He looks at me with an almost pained expression. “Well then. I apologize.”
“Good.”
He nods and immediately frowns when his hand makes contact with his chest. He pinches the fabric between his fingers and pulls it away from his body.
“What in Odin’s name am I wearing?”
“My clothes,” Thor says.
“Your clothes?”
I lift my hand. “I made them smaller. They’re clean, I promise.”
“You?”
“Yeah, the magic was relatively easy compared to what I was doing to track you down.”
He blinks rapidly, looking genuinely surprised. “And how did you learn this magic?”
“It’s a bit convoluted,” I explain. “Heimdall did what he could to help, but I essentially just had to force the magic to do what I wanted.”
"And you've been privy to this training with Heimdall, have you, brother?"
"As much as I can be," Thor says. "I've only been able to speak with Heimdall once since I arrived, and it's solely because (Y/N) acted as a bridge."
Loki scowls, unsatisfied with the answer. "Explain. Now."
Thor obliges and explains everything. I occasionally interject, filling in anything that Thor misses.
“Why would you spend all that energy on finding me, though?”
“(Y/N) believes that you may hold the key to understanding what happened to us,” Thor says. “Our memories were tampered with, and you’re the only person I can think of who wasn’t accounted for.”
“I see...” Loki stroked his chin. “And you truly remember nothing?”
“Have I any reason to lie to you, brother?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you remember anything?” I ask.
“Everything, actually.”
“I-really?”
“Yes. I believe that I can restore Thor’s memories as well, but it won’t be pleasant.”
“Do it,” Thor says. “I need to know what happened.”
“Hold on a moment,” I say. “How do we know you won’t just make things worse?”
“Why would I do that? He’s dumb enough as is. If anything, this would be an improvement.” I glare at him and he lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t want to make things worse. Just to share the knowledge.”
“Fine.”
Loki shuffles closer to Thor and places his hands on either side of his face. Only when Thor nods does he close his eyes. The familiar hum of magic fills the room, but it's different from when I cast. The sound is concentrated near Loki's hands, and I can only assume that it's because he's far more skilled than I am that the sound doesn't fill the entire room.
The magic courses through Thor's body and I nearly lurch forward when his spine goes rigid. I stop myself halfway when I realize that whatever Loki's doing to restore his memories will most likely drain him of whatever energy he previously had. I sit back and fold my hands in my lap and force myself to just sit and watch. I have to remind myself to stay put when Thor begins to make small pained noises. He wanted to go through with it, and interrupting the spell could be dangerous.
Loki's eyes snap open with a flash of green light before his hands fall away from Thor's face. Thor's shoulders relax momentarily as he slowly remembers where he is, and he recoils and scrambles away from his brother. My first instinct is to move to help him, but when I reach out to him and he flinches away from my touch, I start to worry.
"He's in shock," Loki says. "Barely anything that he saw was happy. In spite of how optimistic he is most of the time, he’s experienced many hardships, as of late."
"Tell me what happened on that ship." He hesitates and I frown. "How am I supposed to help if I don't know what happened?"
"You truly want to help?"
"Of course I do."
"You know what we are. Do you understand the dangers that follow us?"
"I'm well aware of the trouble you get yourselves into."
"I see." He sighs and shifts uncomfortably on the carpet. "I'll tell you what happened, then."
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Part 9
Okay, concrete answers next chapter, I promise. But hey! Loki’s back and he’s actually awake this time, so that’s progress!
As always, if you liked this chapter, please let me know! LIke, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about that shit, because I always wanna know what you guys are thinking!
If you’d like to be tagged in future chapter, please let me know!
Tag list:
@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @princess-unicorn124, @hermionie-is-my-queen, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark, @avengerscompound
This fic:
@chelzwwefan, @claire-of-the-country, @sunflowers-and-swear-words, @heystucky, @annathewitch, @thebdelliumlady, @myfuturisticallysteadycollector, @inumorph, @slitherysneke, @bojabee, @givemethatgold, @shynara51, @lokis-high-priestess/ @bluestaratsunrise
#thor odinsonxreader#readerxthor odinson#thor odinson x reader#reader x thor odinson#thorxreader#readerxthor#thor x reader#reader x thor#thor odinson#thor#the golden boi#reader insert marvel fic
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Revali rolls his wing back as he comes in for a landing, the ache in his shoulder a prime example of why he should pay attention to how he’s taking off. He walks across the platform, ready to dive into his hammock and get another early start at the Flight Range, (it is just outside, why wouldn’t he wake up early train), and jumps in surprise when he realizes he isn’t alone.
Link looks up at him with big blue eyes glowing in the firelight, expressionless and red from the cold underneath a blue hood. He’s stirring something in that big pot over the fire, and it reminds Revali of just how starving he is.
They watch each other for a long moment, waiting for something. A cue- a word maybe. Link continues to stir whatever is in that pot, brown and meaty and...some kind of soup maybe?
Revali breaks the silence first.
“You look freezing.”
Link doesn’t respond.
“Might I ask what on earth you think you’re doing here at this hour?” He continues, pulling off his bow to set aside, “I’m sure the Princess will be concerned of your absence.”
Again, nothing. No noise but the scraping of the ladle against the pot.
Revali moves across the room to stand next to the Hylian, (and in front of his hammock), and notices the pile of pillows and blankets underneath his hammock is untouched.
“Well,” Revali reaches up to remove his scarf, pulling from his neck and wrapping it carefully around the ropes holding up his hammock, “Perhaps now is a good time for me to take your job from you then, seeing as you clearly aren’t doing it.”
Then behind him, the Hylian laughs, gentle but attention grabbing, and it startles Revali into looking at him.
Link looks up at him, hood shifting so he can see him better, cheeks red from the cold and eyes shining in the firelight, “You don’t want my job.”
Revali blinks at him.
“What?”
Link shrugs, and the hood falls back into place over his bangs, “I don’t know you that well,” blue eyes flicker back to the pot as he stirs, “but I know for a fact you wouldn’t enjoy my job at all.”
“Oh?” Revali puffs up a little, “Well then, chosen hero, if you know me so well, then what, exactly, would I not enjoy about the fame and glory of being the chosen hero?”
Link looks at him again, eyes sad and voice quiet, “People don’t really care that I’m the chosen hero.”
Revali arches a feathered brow, “Explain.”
“Well,” Link scrapes one edge of the pot with his ladle, “for one thing, I don’t actually interact with others much.”
He pokes at whatever is floating in the broth, “Zelda usually makes me wait outside whatever meetings she’s in, and people find me too intimidating to talk to, so I don’t exactly have...friends. Aside from the other Champions.”
Revali says nothing.
“Which is the opposite of what you want, isn’t it?” Link asks him then, with eyes that are far to calm for the claims he just made, “You want fame and glory- you don’t want to be yelled at by a princess who hates you for doing your job.”
Revali hums.
“I suppose you’re right,” he elaborates after a moment, “I certainly wouldn’t enjoy babysitting the princess.”
“It’s not really babysitting,” Link shrugs, “Just more of...making sure she doesn’t die while she wanders around.”
“How is that any different from babysitting?”
Link says noting for a long moment.
“I guess you’re right.”
They fall into a silence after that, as the pot boils. Link watches it, no longer stirring.
Revali turns to fiddle with his hammock, not sure if he should sit or climb into it or fix his pillows or what, but this is the first time he’s ever heard Link speak. His voice really isn’t what Revali was expecting. It was a lot quieter, for one, a little on the mumbly side, but also soft like a secret.
“Would you like some?”
Revali turns at the question, and finds Link pulling off his hood, the tips of his pointed ears as red and cold as his cheeks, “I made to much for only me.”
Link’s eyes are soft, hopeful even, and Revali can’t bring himself to refuse.
“Fine, but you need a blanket,” He bends to search through the pile, deciding that pillows might also be a good idea, if Link is going to stay the night here, and comes up with one large enough for the both of them, big and blue- almost black- not as scratchy as some of his other ones, and deems it good enough.
He takes an armful of pillows as well, and when he turns around with eveything, Link is spooning whatever it is into bowls of rice.
“What is it?” Revali asks as he dumps the pillows behind the Hylian, eventually deciding to just kick all of them behind both of them as somewhat makeshift chairs.
“I don’t really know,” Link answers, “But it’s a lot of meat and sauce, and even Zelda thinks it’s good.”
Revali sits next to him and tosses the blanket around both of their shoulders. Luckily he was right- it’s big enough for both of them to share, but they don’t have to be touching to have enough blanket.
“Here,” Link passes off a bowl and some chopsticks, then goes to spoon himself some.
Revali examines the chopsticks, “Where did you get these?”
“My bag,” Link answers. “They’re clean, I promise.”
They eat together quietly- Revali asks an occasional question and Link gives him quiet answers. Link goes back for seconds, and offers some to Revali, who accepts. They shift closer together as twilight turns to night, and Link looks less freezing the longer they stay under the blanket.
When they finish, Link takes the now empty pot off the fire for a few minutes to rinse out, but says he’ll clean their bowls and chopsticks tomorrow.
“Do you always cook for yourself?” Revali asks, gathering the blanket and gently kicking pillows into a better bed shape so they can sleep more comfortably.
“Yeah,” Link answers, adjusting the pot to sit right, “I think my cooking is the only thing Zelda likes about me.”
Revali hums.
They lay together on the pillows, and almost immediately Link is asleep, his hood pulled up and his boots still on, curled around one of the smaller pillows.
Revali reaches out to get the two blankets in the leftovers of his pile- an orange one and a green one, both equally scratchy, but good for keeping in heat.
He spreads the black-blue one over them first, then covers Link the best he can in the orange one, and spreads the green over himself.
For a long while, he listens to the updrafts of the flight range and tries to get comfortable on the floor. The moon is already high in the sky by the time he nods off, and even then he wakes several times in the night and has to adjust his pillows-
When Revali wakes for the fifth time, the sun is up, and judging by its position, sunrise was two or three hours ago.
So much for early training.
His gaze shifts to the boy at his side, clinging to one of his wings and still deep in whatever dream he’s having, and Revali does nothing to disturb him.
What are we? Revali wonders, as Link’s hood flutters up in the slight breeze. He doesn’t know if they’re friends yet, but after everything last night...
He reaches out with his other hand to gently brush a few loose strands of hair out of Link’s mouth, and Link reacts with a sharp breath and a shift in position.
He can probably learn to hate Link a little less, he decides, as the boy shifts even closer under the blanket. He really isn’t as bad as Revali thought, and whatever they ate last night was something he would eat again, if Link made it for him.
He closes his eyes again. So not quite friends but not enemies either.
Hours of dozing in and out of sleep later, comes a messenger with white feathers looking for Link.
The Princess wants to leave, they say, but the king’s orders are she can’t leave without her knight.
So Link gets up and Revali tells the messenger they can leave as he starts to gather up pillows and blankets.
“Can we do this again?” Link asks in his quiet voice that’s now a little rough from sleeping in so late.
“I don’t see why not,” Revali answers, kicking the pillows back under his hammock, “Unless, of course, Calamity Ganon decides to show up in the next month.”
Link hums as he washes his bowls and tucks them away in his apparently bottomless bag, “This was nice. Thanks for letting me cling to you.”
“Don’t expect me to let you do that all the time,” Revali answers, “I only let you because you looked freezing.”
Link laughs again, gentle and cute as he picks up the Master Sword from...somewhere. Where did that come from?
“Thanks again,” Link says softly as he refastens his cloak, “I better get to Zelda.”
Revali nods as Link climbs onto the ladder, “Have a safe trip.”
#breath of the wild#revalink#revali#link#zelda drabble#i still don't really know how to write revali lol#this wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are
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What Baking Can Do
@arcana-echoes
Mixed together the ‘Holidays’ and ‘Cuisine’ prompts for a bit of pre-holiday fluff between my sibling duo, Zelda and Tamryn. I hope you enjoy!
2.4k words
For as long as she could remember, Zelda had always found a certain comfort in food. Especially making it - somehow, it was the first thing she completed on her own after she lost her memories, entirely without Asra’s help, and it felt...so natural, like she’d connected with a part of herself that she didn’t know was there.
She supposed that’s why it felt so fitting that much of her reconnection with Tamryn revolved around food.
One of the first things he’d given her, when they both started to get comfortable with one another, was their family’s box of recipe cards. They were yellowing, edges worn and some of them stained, but she nearly cried at the aching familiarity of the swooping handwriting on each and every one of them even if she still couldn’t remember Evalina’s face.
So every week, at the end of the week, Tamryn came to her home, and they picked another card - making dinner or dessert as he quietly told her anything he could think of from the life they’d shared together as children.
That was how they ended up at her kitchen counter that night, jostling and ribbing each other as they did their dishes, laughing together as if they’d never been apart for a moment in time.
Tamryn cracked his knuckles as he put the last plate away, listening as Zelda rummaged around in the cabinets for the newly treasured box
“You didn’t lose it, did you, Zelly?”
“No, I didn’t lose it, I just put it somewhere safe.”
“Behind what sounds like an armada of pots and pans doesn’t feel ‘safe’.”
“Yeah, well, who’s going to look back there without making a ton of noise? Natural security system.”
Tamryn quirked a brow in her direction, his lips pulling up into a grin. “You have an actual safe, don’t you?”
Zelda paused for a moment before she blew a raspberry at him, pulling out the box in question. “Don’t make me get the spoon.”
Tamryn laughed at that, raising his arms to pull his hair up into a little bun when Zelda passed him a tie. “You sound just like mom. She used to wave this old wooden one at us both when we stole bits of food while she was making dinner. ‘You act like you’ve never been fed’, she’d say, but then she’d slip us a spoonful of batter or a bite of cookie dough while dad wasn’t looking while he was baking.”
“Did dad say anything about it?” Zelda flipped through the recipe cards as Tamryn scoffed, shaking his head with a grin before he reached for her hair.
“No, he’d slip us another and tell us not to tell mom. Which we never did, but I’m pretty sure they knew and just let us have it. Tie?”
She passed him one off her wrist, and he started to braid her hair back, the tie in question caught between his teeth. Zelda hummed idly as she read off a few recipes for him, most of them rejected by one of them for not being what they were in the mood for. It was only when Zelda paused at one to try and read the name on the card that Tamryn spoke up, setting his chin on her head and giving her braid a tug.
“I can hear the gears in your head turning. Which one is that?”
“Suf...sufganiyot? Is that right?”
“Yeah, you got it. Mom and dad used to make those at Hanukkah...I haven’t had them in ages. I’d be willing to give those a shot.”
After taking a few minutes to read over the card, Zelda eventually nodded, shutting the box and pushing it to the back of the counter. “Okay...yeah, I think I’ve got all the ingredients here. I’m not sure if I have enough jam but we could maybe do half with it and half with chocolate?”
Tamryn groaned, laughing as he stepped back and ruffled Zelda’s hair. “Yes, fine, you and your chocolate sufganiyot. I still believe jam is better.”
“You’re entitled to your wrong opinion, but chocolate will always be better than jam in any context. Now shush and get my mixing bowl since you can reach it without climbing on the counter.”
* * * * *
The process of making the dough was easy enough - though the yeast took an extra try or two to get right, much to Zelda’s chagrin - though she got Tamryn back for his teasing by making him do the kneading when it came down to it. It gave her the space to think, seated on the counter next to him and her legs swinging idly in the air in front of her.
“You said mom and dad made these for Hanukkah?”
Tamryn nodded, gaze loosely fallen on the light beaming in through the window as he kneaded. “Every year. I haven’t told you about Hanukkah, have I?”
“I know a little from the books I’ve found - the one day’s oil supply lasting eight days, lighting the candles in the hanukkiah...a lot of latke recipes. Why are there so many ways to eat potato pancakes?”
“Mom always explained it as a symbol of the oil - that’s why the sufganiyot and latkes are cooked in it as well.” Tamryn chuckled, elbowing her playfully as he worked. “You and I used to bicker about what was better to put on latkes. Mom always gave you applesauce because you hated sour cream. You had to have been six years old the first time you tried sour cream on them, and you scrunched your nose up so much that dad told you it was going to get stuck like that.”
Zelda snorted, leaning back to rest her head against the cabinets. “I still don’t like sour cream.”
“A couple years ago, mom showed me how she and dad used to eat them - smoked salmon, sour cream, and a bit of dill. It’s actually quite good, if you want to try it one day.”
“I’d literally rather die than eat sour cream.”
The blonde barked out a laugh, shaking his head and blowing a few pieces of hair out of his face as they tickled his lashes. “Yeah, I don’t think that would have changed much from when you were a kid.”
He was quiet for a moment, expression pensive, before Zelda reached out and gently tugged his sleeve.
“Tam? Are you alright?”
Tamryn blinked a few times before he paused mid knead, reaching out to pat her hand lightly where it rested on her arm. “I’m fine. Sorry, just...it’s weird, thinking about the holidays now. I haven’t really celebrated any of them since mom died. It didn’t feel right being alone, like…”
“...like everything that made it special was missing?” Zelda finished, and Tamryn nodded slowly, sighing as Zelda leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder. “Tell me about what it was like for us, Tam. When we were all together.”
She waited for a few long moments, patient as she stepped in when Tamryn was finished kneading, rolling the dough out as he gathered his thoughts and rummaged through her cabinets for a wide enough glass.
“We traveled a lot, so we didn’t always go to service during Hanukkah.” He began, the two of them cutting circles in the dough with the tops of a set of wine glasses he’d found somewhere. “But I remember mom would always make way more food than we could eat throughout the entire eight days and ended up giving leftovers away after Hanukkah ended. Usually to her colleagues, when she went to work, but eventually we both just became latke fiends as we got older and leftovers just became breakfast for as long as we had them. Sufganiyot were never around for more than three days, so dad always made another batch during Hanukkah and another at the end because he’d end up promising some to his friends and realizing he didn’t have any left. Which, by the way, he agreed with you that chocolate was better than jam in them.”
Zelda grinned as she placed a piece of chocolate inside one of the rounds, sandwiching it together with another as Tamryn prepped the oil. “It’s because we have good taste.”
“Mm, no, not in the slightest.” Tamryn laughed as Zelda elbowed his side, joining her in filling some of the sufganiyot with the raspberry jam in question. “We used to sit on the kitchen floor and play with the dreidel while dad was making the second batch. You were so competitive, but you ended up eating some of the chocolate gelt as soon as you got it, and by the time one of us won the pot we’d only have half of what we even started with in the first place. Not that I minded, we’d end up sharing anyway because I didn’t like them nearly as much as you did when I won. And I remember…”
Tamryn paused for a moment, swearing softly as he squeezed some of the jelly out of the dough he’d been pinching together and all over his hands. Zelda slapped a hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle her laugh, helping him clean up before he tried to refill the pastry itself.
“Where was I? Oh, right. Mom and dad used to let me light the candles each night, but there was one year you wanted to help - I was eleven, so you couldn’t have been more than five years old - but you were too afraid of the candles to light it on your own. So I used to pick you up and show you how to light them, every night, and we just never stopped. Eventually you got too big for me to hold you like that, but we always insisted we lit them together, even if it made it harder. I think we only stopped because we nearly set the curtains on fire one year and mom told us we had to alternate nights.”
Zelda laughed, shaking her head slightly as she dropped the first of the sufganiyot into the sizzling oil. “From what you’ve told me, singed curtains seem...unfortunately in character.”
“Oh, we were hellions.” Tamryn snickered, folding his arms across his chest. “Dad used to tell us that a bull in a china shop would be impressed by the amount of damage we caused in the house. It got to a point where we had to play outside because we’d knocked too many vases or knick knacks of his over from tumbling into every surface that wasn’t nailed to the wall or floor.”
The blond hissed quietly as he juggled a hot sufganiyah, rolling it in sugar, and grinning as he poked at it with the tip of his nail.
“Hey, these feel like dad’s! Hopefully they taste as good, too, he always was tweaking recipes. Never seemed to write them down either.”
“Oh, that drives Asra up a wall.” Zelda chuckled. “Aisha and I cook together sometimes, but we both adjust as we go, and whenever he tries to help he can’t rely on the cards we have.”
“Like father, like daughter.” Tamryn snorted, and the pair fell into a steady rhythm, Zelda assuring the sufganiyot cooked properly and Tamryn finishing them off with their sugar dusting. By the time they finished the batch, the sun had long since set, leaving them cleaning up and chatting idly in the comfortable warmth of the lights strung up around the kitchen.
It was only while they were drying everything that Tamryn reached out, gently grasping Zelda’s arm to get her attention. When she turned her attention toward him, Tamryn released her, instead offering his open palms to her as he spoke.
“Zel, I want to celebrate again this year. With you, like we used to. I know you haven’t in a long time, and it won’t be exactly the same, but...I miss it. And I know I’ll have to teach you the specifics, I don’t mind.” Tamryn felt Zelda set her hand in his and gave hers a squeeze, a light smile on his face. “But only if you want to. I know it’s been a lot to learn, and Hanukkah is fairly tame, so...I thought it’d be a good place to start since it’s coming up.”
Zelda beamed at that, throwing her arms around her brother’s shoulders and giving him a squeeze.
“More than anything, Tam.” She murmured, planting a cheerful kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to celebrate again. Maybe we can invite some of my friends, too? It won’t be the same as having mom and dad, I know, but…”
“Found family is still family, Zelda.” Tamryn reached out and plucked up a sufganiyah, taking a bite out of it over her head and talking through the mouthful of dough. “Oh, shit, these really are like dad’s. We should make these again for Hanukkah.”
With a sound of indignation, Zelda shoved against his stomach, groaning as he squeezed her closer. “If you get jelly in my hair, you won’t make it to Hanukkah, now let me go so I can taste how much better the chocolate one is than the jam.”
“It’s not going to be.” Tamryn sang playfully, and Zelda rolled her eyes,
“We’ll have Asra taste them when he gets back. He can be the tie breaker.”
“Given that he eats skink, and you two are dating, I’m not sure that’s a fair judgment call.”
“Why do you think I’m suggesting it?”
Tamryn laughed again, wrapping an arm around Zelda and giving her a playful squeeze as she too took a bite of her sufganiyah -
Only to groan in dismay and cause an outburst of laughter as she realized she’d gotten one full of jam, not the chocolate she’d expected - but she couldn’t seem to mind as she looked up at the brilliant, bright smile on her brother’s face, and couldn’t help but feel like she’d found that something that’d been missing all this time.
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Movie Morning
TXT AU: 6th member
Sara x TXT
Sara makes plans for the group...which they kind of don’t know about.
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Sara finished laying out the pyjamas on the boys beds, beaming in satisfaction. They’d been out all day, at school and then they’d gone to an arcade. She’d gone out for coffee with Sumi, and then hurried home to finish her plan.
A few weeks ago, Kai had dropped a hint that he wanted to watch Christmas movies as a group. And when they’d told her that they’d all be back together at six o’clock today, Sara had set her plan in motion.
She’d bought them all matching Christmas onesies, ordered chicken (which she never let them do), made popcorn, and downloaded ten Christmas movies so they could pick which ones she wanted to watch.
She’d already pulled on her own onesie, and went and sat herself down on the couch. They should be home in about fifteen minutes, and she couldn’t wait to see their faces.
It wasn’t like Sara to plan a surprise. The boys would never say it to her face (well, maybe Yeonjun would), but she wasn’t exactly known for being the fun older sister. Even this morning, when they’d mentioned they were all going to an arcade, none of them had bothered to invite her.
She probably wouldn’t even have wanted to go. She didn’t like video games at all. But they’d all left with a short ‘we’ll see you tonight, noona’. No questions asked about if she wanted to join, or if she had her own plans, because she was boring, and would always just be at home waiting for them. It hadn’t hurt her, but it didn’t escape her notice how she was never really included in any fun plans.
Sara hugged her knees excitedly. Wait until they saw her surprise, because she would prove that she could be fun, and that she could be cool too.
It was half past ten when the boys finally stumbled through the door, shaking off snow and kicking their boots onto the ground.
Taehyun collected them, setting them on the mat. “Soo-ji will kill us if we get snow everywhere.”
“Do you think she left us dinner?” Beomgyu asked.
“She might’ve left leftovers in the fridge.” Yeonjun said. “I hope that .... woah, did she order food without us?”
“Soo-ji ordered food?” Soobin walked into the living room, spotting the boxes of chicken. “Woah, is she sick or something?”
“It’s cold.” Kai confirmed, pulling a piece out of the bucket. “Should I check her room?”
“Yeah, see if she’s okay.” Soobin nodded, the younger boy taking off.
The leader turned to Yeonjun. “It’s not like her to order food. Was she too sick to cook something?”
“Maybe she had a friend over?” Yeonjun suggested. “Sumi was here, and then they went out for their secret project or whatever.”
A tiny sigh came from the other side of the couch.
“Huh?” Beomgyu peered over. “I found her.”
“She’s not in her-”
“We found her.” Taehyun interruped Kai as they all headed over to the couch.
“There’s onesies on all of our beds.” Kai said, holding up his. “Did she leave them there?”
Sara was passed out on the couch, completely wrapped up in a blanket. Her lipstick was smeared all over her face, and when Soobin peeled back the blanket, he revealed a onesie identical to the one Kai was holding.
“Noona?” Soobin poked her shoulder. “Are you sick?”
She rolled over to look up at him, blinking slowly as she took in the five boys peering down at her.
“Hey, you’re home!” She smiled. “Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Were you waiting up?” Yeonjun asked. “And why did you order food?”
Sara looked over at the cold buckets of chicken. “I thought we could have a movie night. But..what time is it?”
“Almost eleven.” Soobin answered.
Sara sighed. “We can just watch the movies another night. You guys can eat the chicken, I’m going to bed.”
She pushed herself up, standing up from the couch and stretching. Her onesie hung too big on her frame, making her look even tinier than usual.
“Wait!” Taehyun protested. “We can watch a movie now!”
“It’s too late.” She shook her head. “Eat up, we’ll watch tomorrow.”
“If you’re sure.” Yeonjun said uncertainly.
Sara just nodded, heading towards her bedroom and falling directly into bed.
The first thing she was aware of in the morning was someone pulling on the top of her bun.
Her eyes cracked open, looking up at Yeonjun. “What is wrong with you?”
He snapped the elastic on her bun. “Get up. We have a surprise.”
She let him pull her out of her bed, and only once she was on her feet did she take stock of what he was wearing.
He held out the fabric of his red patterned Christmas onesie. “You like it? You’d better, since you picked it out.”
“Looks great.” She rubbed her eyes. “Can I go eat breakfast now?”
“No.” Yeonjun pushed her out towards the living room. “Surprise, remember?”
“Noona!” Taehyun called as soon as she entered the room.
Him, Kai and Beomgyu were all sitting on the couch. The blinds were drawn shut, and a carton of milk and a bowl of cereal was sitting in the only empty spot.
“What’s this?” Sara asked, heading over to the couch. “It’s...what...nine in the morning?”
“No, it’s movie night.” Soobin corrected, coming out of the kitchen, holding a tray full of mugs. “I can’t make tea as good as you, so I went with hot chocolate.”
Sara blinked. “What is going on?”
“We felt bad.” Kai said, reaching and pulling her around the couch. “We told you we’d be home and you made plans, and we let you down. So we’re having a movie night now.”
“At nine in the morning?” Sara raised an eyebrow.
Yeonjun smacked the back of her head. “Just enjoy it. Family time, or whatever.”
Sara glared at him, but wrapped her arms around Beomgyu. “Family time, then. What are we watching?”
“ELF!” Kai shouted. “I want to watch Elf!”
“Elf, it is.” Soobin took a seat on the floor, grabbing a blanket. “Everyone ready?”
“Ready!” Sara tucked her feet behind the leader’s back to keep them warm. “We should do this more often.”
“Sure, just let us know first.” Yeonjun told her. “Because I really wish we had ice cream right now.”
She threw a piece of popcorn at him. “It’s breakfast. You can’t have ice cream for breakfast.”
He snorted. “Try and stop me.”
“Jun!”
“PRESSING PLAY!” Soobin interrupted. “Shut up and watch.”
#txt#txt imagines#txt reactions#txt au#txt 6th member#female!kpop#female member kpop#yeonjun#soobin#hueningkai#beomgyu#taehyun#requests open#au#kpop#imagines#imagine#kpop au#kpop imagine#kpop imagines
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A Babysitter’s Job
Fandom: Marvel (Babysitter AU)
Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You look after Bucky's 6 year old son, Grant and Bucky has quite the liking to you.
Warning: smut ;)
A/N: as always, i’m tagging @cametobuyplums since it’s a chubby!bucky fic
Bucky was anxious to get home. His body was yelling at him to go to sleep, but another part of him was yelling even louder to stay awake and get home to see them.
Ever since the divorce, things haven't been great with Bucky. He's been working nonstop to pay off the lawyers as well as to have enough money to provide for his son, Grant. It was tough work being a single parent, but he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, because Grant Barnes was his world.
Bucky's body was buzzing as he rolled up into the driveway and put his car in park. He grabbed his things and rushed to the door. His keys jingling as he inserted the key and the door swung open with ease.
"Daddy!!" pitter patters of feet echoed through the house as a small boy of six, the exact replica of Bucky, came running towards him.
Bucky knelt down, catching his son, "Hey, buddy! Whatcha up to?"
"Y/N and I are making dinner!"
"Oh yeah? What's for dinner?"
"Pasghetti!"
Bucky chuckled at his son's mispronunciation, ruffling the chestnut locks that matched his own, "Sounds delicious, Grant. Can you lead me to the kitchen?" Grant nodded and pulled on Bucky's hand down the hall and to the right.
Grant stepped into the kitchen while Bucky remained in the threshold watching as you sway your hips to the music coming from your phone, your hand stirring what Bucky assumes to be the spaghetti sauce.
Grant walks over to you, tugs at your shirt and points towards Bucky, "Look, Y/N! Daddy's home!"
You look over your should, a soft smile on your lips that renders Bucky speechless and frozen, "Good evening, James."
Bucky holds back a groan, not one of distaste, but one of pleasure. He usually hates when people call him James, but hearing it from you? It's so sensual. He loves it. You’re a pretty, young thing, ten years younger than him and he tried to fight his feelings for you, but you make it so easy to fall for you.
He clears his throat and finally steps forward into the kitchen, "Evening, Y/N. I told you you didn't have to make dinner."
You shrugged, "I know, but Grant was getting hungry and I also figured you'd be too tired from work to make something."
His heart warmed at the sweet gesture, "Thank you, Y/N. You're a real peach, ya know that?"
You giggle as you give him a shrug, "It's no big deal, James. Really. Anyway, I'm just about done. I'll let you guys eat and I'll be on my way." You turn off the stove and move over to Grant, squatting down to give him a hug, "I'll see you tomorrow, G-man."
Bucky cleared his throat and stepped forward, "You could stay...have dinner with us? I-I don't mind." He nervously flattens down his button up shirt, his hands running down the roundness of his stomach. After having Grant and the divorce, Bucky hates that he lost his figure and can't seem to find the time to get back into shape. Maybe-
"I don't want to be a bother." You say to Bucky.
He softly smiles at you, "You're never a bother, Y/N."
Grant tugs at your arms pleading, "Please stay for dinner, Y/N!"
You giggled and scooped Grant up into his arms, "Well, how can I say no to you, G-man?"
____________________________________
Throughout dinner, Bucky kept his eyes on you and Grant. He absolutely adored how you interacted with his son. You were so loving and caring it was as if Grant was your own.
“Right, daddy?”
Bucky was caught like a deer in headlights, his eyes wide and he look slightly startled as you and Grant looked back at him, “Wh-huh?”
You giggled and Bucky could feel a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks, “Looks like your dad was busy daydreaming, sweetheart.” you moved some of Grant’s locks out of his face.
Grant giggled, “It’s okay, daddy. I daydream lots too.”
Bucky continued to watch you and Grant bond as dinner progressed.
Within thirty minutes, Grant was nearly falling asleep in his bowl of spaghetti. While you cleaned up, Bucky picked up his son and took him to bed. After you put the leftovers into a tupperware, you moved to the sink to do the dishes.
Your mind was so focused on scrubbing off the stains of the red, tomato sauce, do you didn’t hear Bucky creep up behind you. You gasped when his arms circled around your waist.
He chuckled, “Sorry, sweetheart.”
You splashed some water back at him, “Jerk. Is Grant in bed?”
Bucky nodded, “Fast asleep,” he mumbled as he leaned in and kissed your neck, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day at work. How beautiful you look under me, begging for me to make you cum,” he groans as he grinds his crotch into your back, his fingers digging into your waist.
You giggle, “Down, boy, At least let me finish the dishes.”
“Leave ‘em. I’ll do them...after I do you.”
You grab the hand towel to dry your hands, tossing it onto the counter and turning around in Bucky’s arms, “It’s a deal.”
Bucky immediately pulls you towards him, his lips against yours in a heated kiss. What you two have...it’s new. It all started when you walked in on Bucky in the bathroom, jerking himself off, your name falling from his lips. He made you see stars right there in that bathroom.
That was a month ago and you two have been sleeping with each other ever since. You wanted more, both of you wanted more, but you didn’t know how Grant would feel, his babysitter and dad dating, being together. So you two kept it a secret from him for now, enjoying your time together after the six year old was put to bed.
Your hands worked quickly on undoing Bucky’s belt and slacks, pushing them down only far enough to free his hardening cock. You slid to your knees, kneeling before the man who appeared to be so shy and soft on the outside, but was really a complete and total beast in bed.
“Fuck, princess,” Bucky groaned as your tongue swirled along his tip, his dick growing harder and harder until he was full erect in your hands, “I know you can take more of me, you lil’ tease.”
You winked and lowered your mouth further onto his cock, your nose hitting his round belly, one hand fondling his balls while the other gripped his thigh. You loved watching Bucky like this, coming completely undone by your mouth and hands.
“Goddammit, your mouth is so fucking good, baby girl,” he growled, “So hungry for my cock, huh?” he grips your hair by the roots, making your head still, and he thrusts hard into your mouth. You relax your jaw and breath through your nose so you wouldn’t gag. Bucky grits his teeth together when he feels himself poke at the back of your throat.
“So good for me, princess. Want my cum down your throat, huh? That what you want?”
You nod, while his dick was still inside you and he chuckles, “Don’t worry, sweetness, you’ll get my cum. I’m nearly there. Oh shit, Y/N.” he closes his eyes and lets his head hang back in pleasure while he continues to fuck your face.
Like when you found him in the bathroom, your name is falling from his lips.
“Y/N, oh fuck, Y/N. Baby, that’s it. Gonna cum. Agh fuck! Y/N! Y/N!” he gives three sharp thrusts as his cum spurts onto your tongue and down your throat. He holds you there for a minute, making sure that no drop is wasted, and then pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva following.
You hum as you swallow every last bit of him, opening your mouth and showing proof.
“Mmmm. That’s my good girl.”
“Daddy?” Bucky and you freeze when you hear Grant’s voice. He’s rubbing his eyes and standing at the kitchen’s threshold, “What’re you doing?”
You quickly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and look over at Grant, “Your, uh, dad hit his leg on the chair and I was kissing it better.”
Grant sleepily nods, “You okay now, daddy?”
Bucky gulps and nervously smiles at his son over his shoulder, “Yeah, buddy. Um, did you have a bad dream?”
“No. I don’t know where Captain A-bear-ica is.”
You stand up, helping Bucky tuck himself back in and fix up his pants, “Daddy will help you look for him upstairs and I’ll look for him down here, okay, G-man?”
Bucky checked himself one last time and then gave you a nod as he led Grant back upstairs. You let out a breath of relief and walked over to the living room, immediately spotting Captain A-bear-ica by the tv. You grab it and head upstairs towards Grant’s room.
You knock on the door, stepping inside, “Hey, looks like Captain A-bear-ica wanted to watch some tv before bed, but I told him it was time to sleep. So here ya go, honey.”
Grant takes the bear and hugs your legs, “Thank you, Y/N.”
You ruffle his hair before he heads back to his bed, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Goodnight.”
Bucky gives you a nod and mouths to you, “I’ll see you downstairs.” You nod back and head down there.
Twenty minutes go by and you’re ready to leave. You grab your jacket, slipping it on, and slinging your purse over your shoulder. You then put on your shoes and as soon as you look up, Bucky’s walking over to you.
He chuckled, “That was close.”
“I’ll say.”
Bucky pulls you in and pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he grabs your hand and hands you some cash.
You shake your head, “James, I told you you don’t have to-”
“I know, but...this is for you to buy something nice to wear. I..I’m gonna take you out on a date. I talked with Steve at work, Grant will sleepover the night there and we,” his hands slide up and down your sides, “are gonna have the entire night to ourselves.”
“Now that I can’t refuse.” you peck his lips one last time and open the door, stepping out, “Oh, and I also finished those dishes.”
Bucky shakes his head and chuckles, “You’re too good for me, ya know that?”
You gave him a shrug and a wink and you were out to your car. You gave him one last wave before hopping in and driving away. Bucky is really glad he hired you to be his babysitter.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#chubby!bucky#marvel#au#babysitter au#smut
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let’s dream in reverse
title: let’s dream in reverse
pairing: wong kun hang/reader
genre: olympic archer!au/best friends to lovers!au
summary: best friends last forever, some say, and love does, too. kun hang shows her that there is nothing bigger than that lie, when he breaks those two concepts for her.
type: angst/fluff
word count: 21,054 (remind me next time that my writing should be shorter jesus christ)
Archery. Her love, and the reason why she fell in love. A curse, her gold medal, her bedazzled cane, but also her biggest regret.
Why is it that happy endings always come in reverse?
One day, she woke up with the need of becoming a real version of Robin Hood—a girl, for starters, pretty young and that didn’t know how to hold a bow and an arrow, but opportunities come to life like a thunder. It was unexpected, how she practiced every single day with the need to get better, to the point she was only eleven years old when she was asked to take part of a training camp of sorts. Other individuals, just like her, that had grown with the desire of being part of a real-life royal fantasy. Nothing felt better than the weight of an arrow slipping through your fingertips to graze the air with its existence. It’s speed, but not physical, it includes thought and precision, dedication, a nice touch to the eye to hit a target. Some think that it is a representation of Cupid, of mythical goodness, but some simply see it as a way of showing that they can aim at whichever dream they have, and get it.
One day, in that training camp for archers, she decided to aim for a dream that she had never thought possible. Being an archer in real life wasn’t like movies; she was definitely not Robin Hood or Cupid, not even something alike, but she was her own version of the task. An athlete of sorts that learned the art of portraying archery as something more than just a sports. One of the many instructors in the training camp told them on the first moment that they entered the place, field gleaming with greeneries and flowers, that archery was the elegance of history in a sport. So, with a bow and an arrow at hand, she tried being a sportsperson.
It was not easy. What they paint in commercials about sports is not actually what it is. There are plenty of competitive fields in the world, but she would say that top two differ in two parts, complete opposites of the world that can only connect on how toxic people are in that environment. In the medicine field, because everyone wants to shine in their own light, and, of course, in sports themselves because they want to do that, as well…just in a different way. Less guts, more moving.
In the training camp, there were hundreds of kids trying to perfect their already good skills in their sports. It was not her fault that soccer players and archer students had to eat lunch together. With her sandwich in between her lips, she looked up to the sky when she wondered if a big cloud had covered the sun just for her or someone tall was standing in front of her. His black hair, cut like almost every guy at the time, looked particularly like a bowl and his wide eyes and plush lips were absolutely different from the occasional standard of beauty. Not that she understood this yet, she was only eleven, but the soccer player was far from her taste even when she could tell that most girls were cooing over him.
“Where’s your diaper?” He asked, laughing at his own joke as if he was the reincarnation of a comedian. News flash: He was not. She frowned deeply and the boy, young and stupid as ever, had to point to the bow and arrow resting by her side of her body. After all, she planned to practice some more after eating. “You bring those everywhere. It’s like you’re trying to get someone to fall in love with you. We’re just kids, relax!”
She chewed on her sandwich, swallowing it quickly before standing up. “I don’t wear diapers, and archery is a valid sport, doofus.”
“Yukhei. My name is not doofus, doofus.” Yukhei frowned before a smile creeped up his face once again. Of course, the guy was half an idiot—or an idiot and a half, whatever suited him best, but the instructors around the area loved him. Let alone students, if the training camp had a class president, Yukhei would be the equivalent of it. “But…you don’t run, you don’t…you don’t do any preparation? How is that a sport? It’s the same as chess. It’s not a sport.”
After scoffing, she answered. “Plenty of your team run and run and run and can’t even score a goal. Now, at least archers—we get our stuff done.” She pointed at her sandwich before taking a seat once again. The day was gorgeous, with the blossoming flowers of spring and the crisp air that touched her skin. Her sandwich tasted better than ever, she had aimed at the target properly and hit the bullseye. Life was good, only a child…what else could she ask for? “Can I eat my sandwich now? I don’t like my cheese when it’s cold.”
But maybe, Yukhei was young and he didn’t know the meaning of personal space or people not wanting his presence altogether. He pushed his backpack off, leaving it around his feet, taking the arrow and bow in between his fingers to inspect it. She jumped on her seat, feeling slightly off at the mere presence of the soccer player there, and she tried to take the elements of her art from him, but Yukhei kept them away from her reach. “This is an aggressive sport, though. Look at this thing, it’s pointy—” Yukhei’s finger slowly poked at the edge of her bow, his eyes almost crossed as he kept the arrow in between them.
“Of course. Now, give me that—”
“Why would you want to hit someone with this?”
“Well, I don’t aim at people…”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yukhei, leave her alone.” She did not know who said it, but it took one look over her shoulder to see a skinny, visibly shorter guy. His voice was higher than Yukhei’s holding a bow and arrow to his chest, something that would have been representative of him if only she had not seen him before. Highlight on seen him, because Kun Hang is possibly the most talented archer in that entire place. Around her age, of course, but still heavily talented—to the point people are even painting the Olympics in his future. With short hair and an innocent look on his wide eyes, quite different from what could be perceived in Yukhei’s ones, he seemed to be there in good fun. “Stop bothering people. You are so annoying whenever you want to be.”
Yukhei shrugged his shoulders, raising his hands in the air. “It’s not my fault she can’t take a joke, man.” He insisted, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to leave that spot without having at least a percentage of happiness from his outcome in the conversation. “You’re also a Cupid guy, and you take it lightly, you’re normal—”
Maybe, she should have stopped seeing so many action movies at the time, but when she raised her fist up in the air to hit Yukhei in the face, she felt someone tugging at her arm, softly, like he did not want to make her even angrier. And of course, once she turned around she was met with the stoic expression of a prince-like young boy. Kun Hang may not have been the tallest or the most outspoken, if anything he was that weird kid that hung out with people from all sports, always doing something to make his friends laugh—but he was nice. More than nice. Instructors loved him. Students praised him. Archers looked up to him. “It’s not worth to hit Yukhei. He is just trying to mess with you.” A smile grazed his features and perhaps, she was young. She should not have looked for longer than she did, she should not have thought of how Kun Hang was a god in archery and she had always dreamed of a kingdom whenever holding a bow and an arrow. Of course, he had to look like a prince. Like a damned prince. “H—He’s just mean sometimes, but he’s nice!”
Yukhei widened his eyes when he realized that her knuckles were too close to his face and he nodded his head quickly. “Yep. Nicest guy out here. Just…Just talks too much?”
Lowering her hand, she decided that Kun Hang was right…but there was a decision to be made there. He would stop holding her arm and the tickling sensation would leave, which was the worst scenario, but she also felt suffocated by the touch. What was such thing? “Okay, forgiven.” Yukhei nodded his head, lifting two fingers up in the air in the form of a thumbs-up before going over to his group of friends, probably not ready for the amount of teasing that was going to go his way. Kun Hang let his hands rest behind his back, smiling softly at her.
“Your arrow is cute. Where did you get it? Is it part of a collection?” Nerdy talk about archery, now that she did not expect from anyone in the world. She clutched the last bit of her sandwich that was left in her hands to her chest.
“…Uh…Y-Yes! I saved my lunch money for two years to buy them.”
Kun Hang seemed impressed by that and in her head, that was a green light. Cute guy was surprised, so that was something. “I’m an archer, too—”
She laughed at that, putting the leftovers of her sandwich down on her lunch-box before speaking up. “I know, I know. I have seen you…you know, around the archers.”
“I’ve seen you too.” Kun Hang pressed, confessing it with a smile on his face. It seemed all too good, her first friend in that training camp and an archer at that. Someone that probably loved aiming more than a lot of things, that had a sight as sharp as it needed to be. “I think you’re good.”
“You think?” At the time, insecurities were gone completely. Young and innocent, she didn’t even think that there would be moments in her life, particularly in the future, when she would hate exactly what she loved the most.
“I’m sure.” Kun Hang twisted her arrow in between his fingers before it dropped to the floor dumbly. She cackled at his actions, trying to hide the sound and the sight behind her hand and even then, he joined in the laughter. There was no way she would ever know that there would be a million laughs shared in between the two, best friend necklaces bought at some cheap store in the corner of a street, secrets to be spilled through text when they were young and the world felt like it was falling to their feet. Back then, they were only two kids finally meeting each other. “Sorry.” He whispered, giving her the arrow before taking off his backpack, as well. “I have two apples with me. Want one?”
Apples and sweet conversations are the start of a blossoming friendship. One that should have gone in reverse.
💘
Some dreams come true in a school with a degree in something you enjoy or not, others come true the moment she steps inside the hotel that welcomes her to another stage of her life. The Olympics, the name sounds huge and that is because it is. Her dreams that she had packed in arrows and bows now set on her shoulders, catching her in fire but letting the faint breeze keep her alive. Passion is what runs on the blood of the people in such a spot, along with competitiveness, and part of her thinks that her hard-work is how she got to the place she is right now, but there must be more to it. Luck. Fate. Destiny. Just plain out life rolling some dices and seeing what comes up.
The Olympics had never crossed her head, that’s for sure.
It had not come easily; her dream, that is. One day, she woke up and Kun Hang had spoken about his dream of wanting to go to the Olympics with her, and it took an entire year of competitions, tough work, barely a few hours of sleep every day and a lot of competitiveness to get to where she is at the moment. There is tension in the air in the form of fear, like she is afraid her dream will slip away from her hands. It is something everyone tells her, to cherish her dreams and the people she loves while she has them, because nothing lasts forever…but at that moment, she thinks she recognizes the concept of forever.
Forever is just a second. Forever is a smile. Forever is a promise with pinkies that never leaves you. Forever is Kun Hang as he drags his body to her hotel room because he can’t sleep, and neither can she. It’s late and they should be sleeping as much as possible, getting rid of the jet-lag to finally have one last practice before the Olympics and then, be met by the big day—and while she is tired, she is never too tired for Kun Hang. His smile is bright, just like it was when they met nine years before that moment, but his hair is longer, even reaching his earlobes and he looks more mature. Definitely has that gleam of childishness within him, but to her, he is more of a King right now…not so much of a Prince anymore.
Laying down on the white covers, she always wonders why Kun Hang never notices how much she likes him. It started a month after they became friends and it had never stopped from then on. She could not say that she dated, that she tried to forget him because she didn’t. One night, she decided that she couldn’t—that a kiss would never feel right if it wasn’t with Kun Hang, that life would always fall in line and she would get him on the end. Life consists of happy endings to her, and while she waits around, Kun Hang has taken the time to actually live his life. Just like how she spent two years in entire bitterness because he decided to date a gymnast and of course, his first relationship was successful and the other one after that was also remotely successful, although shorter.
Forever is what it takes her to say that she likes him. Heck, she would not say love him because when you’re young, you don’t know the meaning of love…but it damn right feels like it. He doesn’t realize, though, or maybe he decides to keep it a secret, as he rests on his stomach and munches on a bowl filled with chopped fruits as they talk about what they expect from the Olympics. Kun Hang can’t shut up about it, not in the plane ride, not in the ride to the hotel, not when they arrived, not when he texted her to say that there was a gift from the Olympics team in the hotel room, not now. It fuels her, it brings that fire that every sportsperson should have within them, and part of her thinks that is the main reason why she is excited, as well.
If the Olympics spent some money on having Kun Hang as their publicist, they would get far more views, probably.
And he does this thing, where he tries to pretend that he is not excited but it is as clear as a summer day. He’s beaming with happiness, and she thrives off his happiness. This is the type of love she tells herself not to have, because someone’s happiness should never be your own—she should seek for her own happiness, but the excuse is always there. Kun Hang is an archer and so is she, they kind of have the same dream…only that he has always taken the lead. Some people are leaders, some are followers…and some are in love with their best friends. Some say it, some never do. It’s the cycle of life.
“Ah, just imagine how happy my sisters will be.” Kun Hang says, plucking the seeds out of a piece of watermelon before plopping it inside his mouth. His gaze is dreamy, his cheek presses against his forearm and his eyes end up looking at her. She’s laying on her back, near the headrest and basically admiring the beauty of his successful self. “Okay, okay, I’m talking too much about myself.” But the man recomposes and it’s when he sits up on his elbows, smiles at her sweetly and talks to her softly that she says that maybe, they have a chance. Perhaps, Kun Hang just wants to have experience…or he has not realized that they are meant to be, yet. His instructors always said that they’d end up married, but they also said the same thing about Yukhei when the three of them became official friends, a year after she found her best-friend and he basically obligated her to hang out with the soccer player. “Imagine you in that spot. You and your arrow, you look like a whole goddess and then, bam. Bullseye and a gold medal. How about that?”
She puckers up her lips at that, taking a slice of banana in between her fingers and then, she eats it. “I love the idea, but you’ll also get a gold medal, dude. We are in this together.”
“Isn’t that a High School Musical song?”
Frowning at that, she sighs. “Maybe…shit, I can’t remember.” He laughs at that, like he always laughs at her jokes. Sometime in between what she would call The Kun Hang Era—in which she had fallen in love with him, of course—she decided to take a few tests about love, read articles about ‘ways to know if he’s secretly loving you!’ and plenty of other things. They all describe how Kun Hang acts with her; kind, tender, sweet, lively and lovely. Laughs at her jokes, takes care of her, would wash her hair if she asked him to, basically tells her she’s beautiful even when she looks her worst. What’s the difference between a best-friend and a lover, anymore? She sure as hell feels confused.
Well, not really. Lovers are all up themselves, more at the age they are in, and they are definitely not like that. Lovers don’t talk about another person they crush on, because lovers should like each other. Lovers touch, kiss and hug each other in most situation; there is physical affection that transitions past that, but Kun Hang’s hugs to her are as usual as breathing, and they don’t hold much meaning to him. “You look so badass whenever you’re in practice. I’m going to be your hype-man by the bleachers, taking pictures of your every move.”
That alone is enough to have her heart racing, and she’s not that type of athlete. She’s an archer, she should be Cupid when she needs it, like Yukhei told her from the day she started feeling like Kun Hang was more than just a talented guy, but she can’t. She can’t make Kun Hang fall in love with her if he doesn’t feel it. It never works like that. “Creep.”
“Fuck, then, no pictures for you.” He jokes around, but he always smiles—albeit lazily, because he is sleepy and all he wants to do is wrap himself up in blankets and finally go to sleep, excitement be long dead until the morning, or afternoon, or whenever he’s going to wake up. The weight of his cheek against her arm has her fingers moving up to run through his hair and that alone is enough to make him close his eyes. “Our trainer will be mad…if…if…mhm…” He hums in approval, his cheeks lifting up as a tight-lipped grin makes its way into his face. It suits him, it makes him look at peace, even when her heart is doing push-ups over and over again. “If I fall asleep here…”
The click of her camera, a polaroid that she brought exactly for this trip, has Kun Hang opening his eyes and staring at her. He always does that: take pictures of her. Sometimes, they match her Instagram feed and she ends up getting more likes thanks to his photography skills, good enough but not perfect. Other times, he pulls the camera towards the two and she ends up posting those pictures in her social media, too, because there is nothing better than lying to herself. She thinks that it’s her own way of trying to get him to open his eyes, for there are countless comments about how ‘they should date already’ and ‘oof’s—’ to answer to, but it always comes down to Kun Hang laughing them off. He’ll always laugh everything off.
He lives with glee, that is good, and it shows by the way he takes the picture she had just taken of him and he lets it fall on the soft white covers. He straightens his back, takes the camera and pulls it up to hover over them. “Let’s take a picture. This is the picture everyone is going to see online when they search up our names once we become famous.”
But that is Kun Hang’s dream. The dream that he crafted with his own hands when he turned six years old, to be in the Olympics, to be a country representative, to smile with a gold medal in his hand as he hears chants of his name. Kun Hang is the type of athlete that thrives off screams, while she is more of a sportsperson that does it because…because it is her getaway. Surely, she also loves having a medal or two, but she doesn’t know if dreams can be rubbed on people. Like attitudes, if you spend a lot of time with someone, it’s bound to happen that you end up sounding or talking like them. The catch in here is that she doesn’t know the difference between Kun Hang’s dreams and hers. Maybe, he is just her dream and to be by his side far longer than she should—all thanks to their archery skills and her ever-growing crush on him—keeps that dream alive. Whatever he dreams, she thinks of, as well. “Promise me something, Kun Hang.” She tells him, softly, raising her gaze only to meet his. Kun Hang looks at her like he can read her, and sometimes she wants to close away from him. This kind of love that she feels for him remains unknown to him, and that’s scary. He nods at her words, however, always a pleaser to fuel that fantasy of hers that they’ll end together. “We’re…doing this together. Even if one of us wins, we’ll keep being friends.”
His gaze softens and of course, he utters somewhat of a lie. “No matter who loses or wins or does well…or bad, whatever. What matters is that we got here together and we’ll leave as a team, together.” It sounds so true, like the words a drunken man tells you in the middle of a bar in the form of a confession, like that one compliment someone gives you when you’re in elementary school and the world is far too naïve. Kun Hang has always stayed there, so why wouldn’t he stay now? “Let’s take the picture, okay?”
She wraps an arm around Kun Hang’s shoulder, pushing their faces together and smiling to the camera after she said: “A picture with my biggest fan.”
But it is the other way around. She thinks there is no one that adores Kun Hang as a person and an athlete more than her. Even after all those years, piled in pictures, tears, stories to tell in the future when they are older, she is still into him. And she holds onto the hope that he’ll fall, too, and she’ll catch him. “Ha-ha, good joke.” Kun Hang adds, his face stoic and straight and she hits his arm with her extended palm.
“Ass-wipe.”
“You’re the shit that I wipe, then.”
“Ew, dude—!”
What matters is that they are together.
💘
Go figure, being at the Olympics is not easy. It is competitive, it smells like sweat, people are constantly giving her deadly stares and she does not even know what she has done to them. Life was easier when all she had to do was laugh at Yukhei from the bleachers to get him distracted, only to get a middle finger up in the air as a response. When she read books that, looking back, were no good. But now, she was the representation of a country in a competition that everyone watched. Whether they were into sports or because ‘athletes are hot’, it is highly popular. Even so, some people reach stardom thanks to the Olympics…some don’t make it, and she doesn’t know what’s worse. Losing and having everyone see her lose; or winning, but also have everyone criticizing her because an athlete is never good enough.
Maybe, she is too into her head and she should simply follow after the words that she heard in the presentation they were given earlier. As it turns out, Kun Hang, herself and a hundred more sportspeople had to listen through a chat with one of the most well-known Olympic athletes in the world right now, and everything sounded easy when it came to a professional’s lips. It is not like she has this constant weight on her shoulders that tells her that it is not only her bow, arrow and herself…but also a million people watching her, from their TV screens as they say whatever they please in between munches of their food.
Is this how celebrities feel like?
A shaky breath leaves her, watching the aquatics members chatting with each other lightly, but she can see that they basically hate each other at that point. Only after aquatics, came the archery stand and she doesn’t know what to do at that point. Perhaps run, but there is already a sport for that. Maybe, she should cry it out and help fill the pool for the aquatics team, or she is just being dramatic. When she feels a pair of fingers gliding across her shoulder-blades, softly taking the skin there and pressing it in between said fingers, rolling, molding and rubbing, she gets a tiny bit scared. Then, she remembers who exactly is there with her and she cannot help but lean back a bit, feeling Kun Hang’s warm chest pressed to her back, his heartbeat seeping through his shirt.
There is something medical about Kun Hang—and it is not the fact that he had once thought of trying for Med School (and later on swerved because “Dr. House did not tell me that I would be seeing blood, so…no thanks.”)—but the mere presence of him is enough to make her feel at ease. He has something within him that brings a sense of joy to her life, the type that has only grown with time. He knows this, he senses this like he does with almost everything that she feels, thinks or lives. Cue point on almost, because Kun Hang might be ignorant to the feelings she has towards him.
With a soft breath, she finally speaks up what has been eating her alive since the moment she got there, because she has always seen her sport as just that. No cameras, no television, no nothing. It is only the nature that surrounds her, the target and herself. It is the reason why she has been her happiest lately, and also the meaning behind her stress. The perfect athlete becomes a competitor who thrives to be the only and the best. She could not imagine how embarrassing it would be to be the last, or even remotely close to that. “I’m scared, Kun Hang. If I die right now, I want you to know that the hamster you had when you were twelve did not actually get lost, but Yukhei accidentally let it escape.” The confession is highlighted with her dramatics, making Kun Hang laugh because he imagined it. Sure, he did not know such thing—but what else could he expect from Yukhei?
“I’m going to kill that bitch.” He whispers before turning her around, his fingers rubbing over her arms before grabbing her hands. Sometimes, when he looks at her like he loves her—perhaps, just as a friend—she thinks there is something else. Kun Hang is peaceful, like the sound of the air conditioner when she stays up late at night watching movies and she feels that, for a second, the world is hers. She is the only one awake. He makes her feel like that, like they are the only two people coexisting in that world. “Joking. But man, liven up! We are in the Olympics.”
She scoffs at that, twirling a strand of Kun Hang’s hair in between her fingers. “That’s exactly the problem, dude.”
“Why?”
“Because these are The Olympics. People are going to see me and imagine if I do bad. Imagine if everyone ends up being disappointed by how I do—” The involvement of a sixth sense is important here, and she trusts her sixth sense widely. When someone tried to break into her house when she was younger, she could barely sleep at night. When she moved alone for the first time, she just knew she was not going to get along with her roommate—and guess what, she had to move out a month after due to having to hear her roommate moaning more than she should have ever done, all thanks to her macho-man of a boyfriend. This is probably another case of her sixth sense telling her ‘hey, I know how you are. This is not a good idea.’. “I would cry. I would physically turn into a puddle and never get out of my apartment.”
“Imagine if you do good.” He whispers, raising both eyebrows in surprise at her train of thought. “You are an excellent archer. And I am not telling you this just because I am your friend, but there is a reason why you got here, you know? Most people dream of going to the Olympics, but they never go.”
“Okay, thanks for putting the dreams of a lot of athletes on my shoulders.”
Kun Hang’s face stiffens with a frown before he pulls at her ear, earning a hiss from the woman. “Stop acting up. I am trying to make you feel better.”
“But Kun Hang—”
“No. This is not about the outcome of this situation, it’s about how hard you worked to get here. That is all that matters.” What he says resembles going out for a walk and not knowing where you’re going. She would be absolutely terrified of the idea, but Kun Hang is always more of a lively soul when alone or with her. “Got it?”
“I guess…”
Only that her sixth sense was not wrong.
When she first picked up a bow and an arrow, they felt like they were part of her body but the concoction that is in between her hands from the moment she gets up to participate on her own behalf does not feel like it is even a cell in her body. She feels sick, maybe of the people watching her or how blurry her gaze is and she knows it’s stress playing with her, the fear of not being enough or ruining an opportunity for herself, but it is there. What can a person do when their nervousness overtakes them? Sweaty palms, eyes blaring on her when she misses by a few points. In her eyes, everyone is doing far better but there is someone that chants her name in the far distance…or maybe, it’s a whisper. She knows it is Kun Hang, watching her dreams fall to her feet all thanks to her own wrongdoings.
A soft sigh leaves her lips when she hears the clapping of people and another name being called in a foreign language. In the blink of an eye, she is backstage and everyone seems to be happy—they chat, they play with their own hands in nervousness but they are beaming with excitement, as well, and she is there…thinking that she has ruined her own opportunity to shine. She feels like crying, tears making a home out of her eyes as she tries to look for her jacket to pull it over her shoulders to hide in the bathroom and perhaps, cry like she feels to.
Until she hears shouting and clapping.
It takes her a few seconds to process that Kun Hang is also in another part of the field and that he is, indeed, fighting for his own dream, too. With the little power that is left inside her body, she gets out of the changing rooms and goes to where Kun Hang would be standing. Looking as ethereal as always, she finds that her dream lives within him, as well. Maybe, because she loves him—or because they share a soul that is in love with sports, but Kun Hang is doing as excellently as expected, making her clutch the fabric of clothing tighter over her body. Things may not be okay for her, but she is happy that they are going good for him.
By the time he is finished, he receives a few hand-shakes from foreign athletes and he catches her gaze almost immediately. His smile is apologetic, like he saw exactly what she did in the field—and of course he did, he was always paying attention to her—, so he opens his eyes and welcomes her in a tight hug. It smells like his perfume, the warmth of his body making her close her eyes as she fights the urge she has to cry in front of everyone, because Kun Hang is once again the light through her hard days.
“I’m sorry—” He apologizes, pulling away from her only to hear someone calling his name. She recognizes the voice, it’s one of their instructors, and he is waving his hand happily as he points to a woman that is holding a microphone.
“Kun Hang, someone wants to interview you.” The young man looks at her, raising his eyebrows with happiness and a smile appears on her face, albeit tiredly. But this is the man she loves finally getting the success he deserves.
“I have to go, okay?”
“It’s all good.”
“We’ll talk after this.”
“We will.”
And he does talk to her, rub her back and tell her all that she is worth. Moments like those, she feels like she doesn’t want to fall in love with anyone if it’s not Kun Hang, and that is the type of reality that she has to live with. She aimed at herself with an arrow and got herself to fall in love for him.
💘
She knows she hasn’t earned a medal, and strangely enough, it doesn’t kill her.
Of course, she cried, yelled and left mascara stain’s on her hotel’s pillow because she had worked so hard to get there, only to have the worst outcome that could have happened—she tried not to cry on camera, for that would be too embarrassing, but anyone who knew a little bit of human interaction could have guessed that she was not happy.
The air is crisp, cold, enough to have her moving her body the slightest just to keep the heat of her body. Somewhere, she can hear members of the running team talking about some supposed man that is Adonis reincarnated, but there is not much interest from her part. One day, she started seeing other people as something more than attractive, because they could never make her feel like Kun Hang does. They would never make her squeal when she’s in the shower getting ready to meet up with him. Someone, out there, is wishing to get her attention while she can only think of every word that Kun Hang has told her; the times he reassured her that she was beautiful, those moments when he tells her she’s talented, when he asks her what they are going to do on Saturday because every weekend is for them and them only.
Her time at the Olympics is highlighted after every record that Kun Hang breaks. People are pleasantly surprised, everyone wanting to have an interview with one of the few people that have gathered a nice amount of individuals to be interested in the sport, most of the time ignored by the media. She has read articles about him and while she has barely seen him in the past few days, she is incredibly proud of him. Some people teach you that happiness is not always about yourself, and Kun Hang is that for her.
A miniscule light that keeps her dream alive after a big failure.
Speaking of which, she finally gets to see him, making his way through the seas of people as he fixes his hair with his fingers. His expression is stoic but judging by the way his jaw is tightening, he is definitely a step away from breaking down into a set of squeals. She has heard the news—that Kun Hang is probably going to get a gold medal and that is all she wants for him. He catches her gaze and, for a moment, she thinks he is going to walk past her, but instead his face merges into something that is vulnerability.
How is she supposed to stop loving him when Kun Hang has shown her everything about him? Not physically, of course, but mentally. He has talked about his worst nights, the moments where he felt like life had won over him, that one time that he almost gave up on his dream…and she can read him like the palm of her hand. Most men would be interested in making themselves seem strong, much more in a field like sports, but Kun Hang shows his weakest side to her. The moments he feels like staying in bed and wrapping himself up in blankets. He is not often scared of things, but when he is, it paralyzes him.
“Hey,” She speaks softly and the man looks around, blinking quickly before opening his mind out to her.
“I feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t—I can’t believe I’ve gotten this far.” His eyes are a mix between happiness and confusion, jumping a little bit in his own spot, perhaps because he is cold or maybe, nervousness has made a home out of him. “Everyone is calling me…Universities, commercials, brands…And I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.” His voice raises funnily, to the point of breaking, and she chuckles at him. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him down to his height to simply caress him and make him feel better His hands end up over her waist and the man continues rambling. “Sorry…you probably don’t want to talk about that, right?” While they had not talked that much, she is sure that Kun Hang knew about her loss. Of a dream. Of a sport. Of her pride. Whatever it is.
But there is something stupid about love, that’s why so many people are against it and it is that someone’s happiness can make you feel even the slightest bit more relieved if you love them. “No, no. I’m proud of you, dude!” She tells him, pulling away slightly to take his hands in hers, like she always does as an excuse to hold him but now, she is welcomed by a pair of sweaty palms. “Hey…No sweating, you’ll be fine.”
Kun Hang laughs at his antics, dragging his palms over his shirt before sighing. “What if I lose every opportunity that I have been given?”
“You won’t.” She reassures.
“What if I get hate?”
“What? Kun Hang—You’re the most loved archer around the world and you’re asking something so stupid? Use your head.” Her index finger taps his temple, although he could never tell that the reason behind her words is because she actually thinks it is impossible to hate a part of him. “And you will do fine. Like you said, we are in this together and now you’re the talented representative of our friendship.”
Kun Hang’s eyes get filled with what seems to be thankfulness and he presses a kiss to the top of her head, warm and soft, like he means to make her feel better and he does. “Hey, you tried your best and you can say that you were talented enough to go to the Olympics. That’s a big deal.” She wishes words could be shown in pictures, for that she would use them for her benefit—when she feels her worst, she would hear Kun Hang making her feel like her dream is still worth it, that they share one single soul in love with the art of archery.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“Of course, but I also mean it.” Kun Hang replies, looking back to see that people are starting to gather by the fake green field. He rubs his hands together, placing them over her cheeks as he looks into her eyes. Sometimes, she wonders if they just need to touch each other to comfort the other or they do it because they try to send a message across. Everybody could hate us but I still love you, is what she is trying to say. “I kind of have to go up there. See you later at the hotel?”
She raises an eyebrow at that. “Will you have time?” One foot in the water, she tries to test if Kun Hang is still up to spending some time with her after being so busy. Kun Hang chuckles, a smile appearing over his face.
“I always have time for you.”
With the flutter of her heart, she answers: “Yeah right.”
“It’s true!”
Only that it isn’t and she realizes it when she is scrolling through her Instagram feed, watching the plenty of stories Kun Hang is posting of the party some of the athletes held in celebration for everyone’s good job. He looks happy, but he is not with her. The snacks she bought and the movie she was planning on seeing mock her, grinning at the way she keeps daydreaming of him. She hates the night, the plane ticket on her bedside table that indicates that she is going to have to sit next to Kun Hang the next day and she hates that she likes the picture he posts late at night. She hates that she loves him, that she thinks that they are on the same page when Kun Hang has always been a few steps ahead—dating, living, loving, breathing the air of life with purity while she kept waiting for him to go down the clouds and meet her in the floor. Had she fallen in love with a butterfly, only to see it fly away from her.
💘
“Come on, do it for Kun Hang! Help me out with his surprise birthday party.”
Yukhei is one hell of a manipulative person without realizing—or maybe that is too much of an exaggeration, but adding Kun Hang’s name two weeks after she has been trying her hardest not to talk to him was a rough play. She knows that Kun Hang’s birthday is coming soon, the calendar on her phone and on her wall reads it with hearts all over it, and she is embarrassed that she puts so much effort into his gifts since the moment they became friends. She does her best at baking, simply to make his favorite macaroons every year, the ones that has him basically downing them in one go with a glass of milk. On his thirteen birthday, she gifted him one of those cheap skateboards that she had to save for, and he used it for two years to no end. Kun Hang still keeps in the depth of his closet the little friendship bracelets that they bought but no longer fit, and even after that, he is still an asshole.
Years of friendship go down the drain for new friends, and even when she should have expected an apology from him, she never got it. Kun Hang fell asleep most of the plane ride and the few times that he has texted her—because he is trying to take up on a scholarship that he was offered—, she just completely ignores him. The thing is, Yukhei plans things four days before Kun Hang’s actual birthday…and he is not that good of a planner. So she ends up doing what is the best and worst decision at the same time: she buys a package of Oreo cookies, almond power, perhaps some sugar and whatever ingredient is needed for his favorite macaroons.
Yukhei still lives with his family…he spent a year away from them, but just like her, he does not do well with roommates. His problem is not how charismatic or helpful he could be, that is not exactly it, because he could be both…but it ranges in between his boisterous laughter and his height. At least, in his parents’ house, he doesn’t have to kneel to go past the doors. His mother always welcomes her with a kiss on the cheek and for that moment, she refrains from asking how the Olympics did. Everyone treats her like she is made of glass now, because it is common knowledge that she ruined her own opportunity, months of training and years of learning long lost in just one moment.
While using her plastic spatula, she hits Yukhei in the cheek softly, a little bit of the batter she just whisked and mixed falling on top of his skin. “Don’t eat the Oreos before I use them, Yukhei.” The man uses his finger to catch the little bit of batter on his cheek, shaking his head.
“I wasn’t doing anything!” His deep voice says, although she can tell that he is much happier than he was the time he called her four days prior to that moment. Yukhei had planned a surprise party…only that he had not done anything, so she spent the last few days looking for a place to have the party done, the balloons, ordering the cake, the food, the activities, the people that were going to go and everything else in between. Without her, Kun Hang’s birthday party would have been a disaster. “I am just surprised you get this…petty when it comes to Kun Hang’s gifts. You take your time…do things so slowly…you’re so whipped.”
Okay, so maybe in her fourteenth birthday party, when Kun Hang was with his girlfriend at the time, she had kind of—but not totally—admitted that she found Kun Hang cute. The conversation comes back to life every once in a while, but it is never explicitly told. Yukhei thinks she is in love and he is not wrong, but she always denies it…saying that she is talking to other people, that she likes someone else. Yukhei is gullible, but he would never be stupid enough to believe her. “I am still mad at him. I’m doing this for you, but I don’t even think I am attending this party we’re preparing.” Although, she can’t imagine what it would be like spending his birthday away from him. Would Kun Hang be saddened? Most certainly, or at least she hopes he misses her as much as she misses him.
“Are you mad at him because he won a gold medal and you didn’t?”
“No, no. God, no!” She says, checking on the oven to take out the baked macaroons, throwing her kitchen glove somewhere over the counter. “I fucked my opportunity up big time, I know that. It just made me mad that instead of spending one day, just one fucking night with me to celebrate, he decided to celebrate it with everyone else. With people he only met in that place!” The rage that she feels towards him seeps through her as she mixes the Oreo crumbs with the mixture that is going to go inside the macaroons. Her mind is only concentrated on how Kun Hang did not give importance to their friendship—he could have easily told her that he was not going to be available, but leaving her hanging and sending her a half-assed text after was not the correct solution.
“And it hurt you.” Yukhei says, wiping the counter with a cloth as she nods her head.
“Of course,” Her voice is softer, coated in all the secrets she has kept from Kun Hang. She would like to say that she has never gotten tired of him, but he must think differently nowadays: he could have a wider range of friends if he hangs out with the Olympic athletes, she thinks. “My best friend did excellently in something that he loves, I am happy for that, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that it felt like he was abandoning me.”
Yukhei’s bottom lips quivers the slightest at the sound of her voice and he sighs. “Don’t say it like that, you know I don’t like to see you sad.” The thought brings a smile to her face. Surely, Yukhei had been annoying the moment they met and he was the one at fault for making her meet—and fall for—Wong Kun Hang, but now he is one of her closest friends. “Besides, you shouldn’t let his dreams come first. It’s okay that you’re mad at him, because he’s not a God that you should ask forgiveness to. Liking him doesn’t mean that you should always forgive him, you know?”
Taking one of the baked macaroons out of the tray, she scoffs. “I don’t like Kun Hang, dumbass.” She lies, trying her hardest to keep her heart intact, but how could she do such thing…after all, Kun Hang already has it on the palm of his hands, ready to break it at any given moment. Albeit innocently, Kun Hang would never do her wrong in any way. “His dreams are mine in my dumb, ass-fucked head. We share the same passion and if he’s happy, I’m equally as happy.”
Yukhei’s big eyes are both emotionless and full of emotion. It’s a weird mixture, how he blinks at the mere thought of someone loving anyone as much. “That…That’s so sweet.” He adds seriously, his big palms spreading on top of the counter as he stares at her profile. She can feel his gaze but she doesn’t dare to look at him, in fear that he further realizes that yes, she does like Kun Hang and yes, at this point in life…she has a hard time hiding it. “That’s why you should go to the birthday party! You guys are like…I can’t think of a metaphor, but you guys are so close. It would be weird to not have you there—”
“Maybe, he’ll bring his new friends.”
“It’s not bad that your best friend gets some new friends of his own. I would tell you to do the same, actually.” The bitter truth hits her, because Kun Hang is not moving on from her—he’s moving accordingly to his phases in life, while she patiently waits for him to go through all of them. Sometime, she needs to learn the importance of growth apart from a best friend, as an individual whose traits were different from everyone else’s. “But you’re still his best friend, and I am sure he wants to have you there.”
Her confidence vanishes. “Do you think so?”
“Come on, of course I do!” Yukhei hypes her up, pointing at the macaroons she is preparing. “Which makes me jealous. You never do these things for me!”
The comment is laughable.
The problem is, of course, that to make a dish, there need to be enough of this and enough of that; a taste should never overpower the other. Sadly, for her, that is how it works with Kun Hang, there is too much coming from her and too little coming from him. Noticing, she does, but she decides to ignore it, opting to get ready for his birthday party when the 28th arrives. Gathered by the living room of one of their friend’s houses, she kneels down beside Yukhei, resting her arm over his shoulder to keep her balance, a smile plastered on her face like it always belonged there. The atmosphere is sweet, basked in love for Kun Hang who is going to be brought there by Minseo, one of the exchange students from an athlete program that goes to their practices.
The lights flicker on and they all jump from their spots, surprising Kun Hang who immediately lets a squeal escape his lips, his hand resting over his chest to calm down his racing heart. The moment is in slow motion, his hair moving like there is wind inside the room but maybe it is her imagination. His shirt is aquamarine, reading some simplistic text in the middle and too white and small to be read, topped with a black denim jacket and matching jeans. His hair is half-wet, signal that he had taken a shower before getting there and Minseo clapping lovingly from the back, her sweater-paws hitting one another with happiness.
“You guys!” Kun Hang says, a raspy tone in his voice that has her wondering how she did it. How in the world did she spend two entire weeks without talking to Kun Hang, she asks herself. The sound of his laughter is dulcet, immediately being hugged by some of his friends before he asks in between caresses with his closest ones. “Who planned this?!” Over the noise and the music—some trap song that has been played on the radio all too much—, Kun Hang screams, only to have the answer from the equally as loud Wong Yukhei.
With one arm wrapped around Kun Hang’s best friend, he answers: “The two of us did this!” But Yukhei wouldn’t actually mention that he was a mess before she joined him in the preparations, but she decides to grin shyly and softly, because now Kun Hang is looking directly at her like he doesn’t need an affirmation or a conformation. He knows she was the one who did this.
His steps are quick as he reaches his friends, speaking along the way. “Nah, nah, I know you weren’t the one to do this, Yukhei.” The man starts, only to have Yukhei interrupting him.
“I was the one with the idea! You two didn’t even talk to each other for, like, two weeks—” And there it is, Yukhei spilling her secrets out to Kun Hang. Some people take secrets to the grave and people like Yukhei leave it open. Kun Hang’s expression turns somber from that, turning to look at her with his eyes filled with seriousness. She doesn’t know if she wants to hug him, say ‘happy birthday’ to him because she is itching to do so or she wants to keep silent. “Hey…can you two hug already? I’m getting anxious.”
“Sorry.” Kun Hang says, his lips barely lifting up slightly to show what she thinks is a small smile. “You’re amazing, really.” He nods his head slowly. “And I should have told you that I was going to that party…and yeah, that’s that. I didn’t think—I mean, I should have supposed—It was stupid of me.”
With the finalization of his speech, she sighs. “It was.”
“But I didn’t know you weren’t invited!” Kun Hang excuses himself quickly, going over to her side and looking around the room to see that some were looking at them, but others were too occupied with getting the party started. His arm drags across her shoulders, soft and tender and leaving a mark on her—not literally, but in sensation. It feels like he is burning her with the kind of touch that a lover would leave on their loved one. “I would have invited you if that was the case.”
“What if they didn’t let you take me there?”
“I wouldn’t have gone.” His white teeth are shown the moment he grins at her, shaking her shoulder slightly. “It’s my birthday. Please, don’t be mad.”
With a huff, she answers: “Let me be mad for like three more seconds. It’s the first time I’ve gotten mad at you.”
And of course, he does that thing where he starts laughing and a squeak leaves his lips, making her beam with happiness. There is a switch button in her, one that makes her feel so much better once Kun Hang is around and that power is gorgeous, but it also scares her deadly. “I’m surprised it’s the first time.”
“Me too.”
“Hey!”
She wraps her arm around his waist and with a soft voice, she tells him what she is aching to say. It’s not a confession, but it’s something. “Happy birthday to my favorite man in the world.”
“Thank you to my favorite girl in the world.”
It is at moments like those that she thinks there is a chance, although small, that something might bloom. She just needs to try, be more open, talk it out and flirt and wait for the moment Kun Hang realizes that what he has wanted all along has been sitting right beside him. The evening goes smoothly for the first two hours, talking to Kun Hang and trying every single snack that is in there. He basically takes all the macaroons to a room to keep them safe, saying that he wants them all for himself—much more when they have Oreos in them—, but she stops him from doing so, telling him that she has baked a few treats for him to have once he gets home. His smile is shining and he holds her arm when she gets too far away from him, dragging her from one side to the other of the party, talking to everyone and including her in the conversation. Two weeks of the silence treatment did that to Kun Hang and she is surprised.
What is surprising, as well, is when Kun Hang gets a call on his phone, looking at the ID as they talk in the kitchen. There is a Pringles dangling from between his lips when he tells her quickly. “It’s someone from the university I am trying to get into!”
She widens her eyes, gasping at his words. “Pick up!”
“You don’t mind me leaving you here alone?”
He is considering her, but she shakes her head, thinking that accompanying Kun Hang through another phase is what a good friend would do, and she wants to be even that for him. “Go, go, go.”
“Hello?” He asks, putting the phone up to his ear before looking over his shoulder, watching as she puts two thumbs up in the air to give him some sort of support. He smiles, going over his way and moments after, he is back, saying that he needs to study for a test that is the following day. At moments like those, she realizes that Kun Hang would be big, and her chest blossoms in the prettiest of flowers that she dares to call happiness…hopefully, he doesn’t forget her.
💘
In the bathroom of the archery club she attends to, people can find everything. The mirror introduces the sight of white linoleum walls, some written with messages of lovers that must have passed their time there in the early two-thousands. The bathroom does not smell bad, per say, but it has smelled even better…and she thinks that maybe bringing a group of children to visit the place—all thanks to the club owner—wasn’t the best idea. Maybe, it’s vomit that she smelling or another thing, but what she knows is that she needs to mop the floor, clean the bathrooms, make sure that the mirror is spotless and then, she’ll earn some money.
It is the usual case of life paralysis, and normally individuals don’t know what the term means, but almost everyone goes through it. Think about that moment when you didn’t know where your life was going or where to step to move forward, so you remained in a stand-by position, watching as everyone moved on with their lives but you ruined your only opportunity—or it was ruined for you—so you can choose to do something with your life or not, but the monotony overtakes you. Suddenly, she doesn’t feel like herself and it is this exact case. No universities called her, leaving her to having to opt for them and work while she waits for an answer to earn some money, apart from what she has saved in all these years, and just hope that life settles down.
Part of her day is spent behind the counter of a music store. Elton John, The Eagles, The Beatles and plenty of others is what she hears on a daily, organizing vinyl’s, instruments, learning what brand is better than other and which one is cheaper. Most of the time, she meets up with punk-rock wannabes or with old people that want to remember the good, old times of rock. Yet, she can’t say that she dislikes her job—it’s just not her. Sometimes, she gets one or two people that ask her if she was in the Olympics just two months ago, and she answers with a smile or a nod. Luckily for her, not enough people in the world are sport experts to know what exactly she had done wrong, but everyone would recognize a golden medalist.
To earn more money, she has agreed to stay after hours in the archery club to clean the bathrooms. At first, she thought that it would only be the women’s bathroom, but she had to go to the men’s bathroom as well, making sure that the white tiles are squeaky clean (“like the teeth of a Hollywood superstar, darling.” The owner of the club had said and she would have begged to differ, if only she would not have needed the money). Two hours would be spent every single day, surrounded by the air of vanilla disinfectant, sighing deeply when she has to scrub on the floor and most of the time, she enters the place hoping that the toilets are clean.
That day is not one of those days.
White noise fills the air as she leans over the counter to get to the spacious mirror, wiping with a few pieces of newspaper to get it to be its cleanest. It’s a technique her neighbor told her when they drowned in conversation about her job. The sun is setting and through the tall and small windows, she can see the rays of violet and pink melting together. The air is cold, catching her off guard as she wears her oversized white t-shirt—the usual uniform that she uses for practice, but she hasn’t even had time for doing such thing—. After all, she is not the only one that is busy.
Kun Hang has been part of the Nutrition and Health Sciences field, taking plenty of pictures of his notes and the coffee cups he has and sending them to her, but most of his texts come four hours after she has written to him, if not more. The way she misses him could be easily described by a person that has tried to reach the moon, only to figure out that their arms are too short to reach them—he has become more of a nightly memory than a friend of hers, wondering if the friendship they had for nine years has turned into complete dust. Some nights, she surprises herself when she realizes she doesn’t think about him…and that feels weird. When the longing hits her again, it feels like the night is eating her alive. Cold. Nostalgic. Unloving and unforgiving.
The sound of the door opening doesn’t surprise her, but she turns around to see that Minseo is standing by the door, her short hair covered by a beret as usual. She lifts her hand to greet the, now, worker of the place and friend of hers. “Hello!” Minseok utters softly before opening the door wider, showing a person that she didn’t expect. From the spot he is standing, she can tell that his hair is shorter—perhaps, he got tired of the long hair or he just wants a new start in his life—and he is wearing his uniform, his dark and old backpack behind his back while he holds two see-through bags on his hands. She can see that he has brought sandwiches. “Kun Hang was asking about you, so I brought him here. Although, I don’t think you should be eating sandwiches in a bathroom…”
“I’ll wait until she finishes so we can eat outside, Seo. Don’t worry.” Kun Hang says, looking down at the remotely smaller young woman that simply nods her head.
“Minseo, I’m leaving you here if you don’t hurry the hell up!” Yukhei—and Minseo’s driver for a month thanks to a bet he lost—screams from the end of the hall and the adorable looking woman gasps from her spot.
“Coming!” She yells before waving with both hands enthusiastically at her friends. “Bye guys!”
“See you.”
“Bye.”
Kun Hang immediately smiles and that is the best thing about him: he shows his happiness like it is the thing he is proudest of, and that is exactly what he is. With quick steps, he closes the door of the bathroom and sits down on the counter that she has been leaning on, resting the sandwich bags on his lap before sighing deeply. “I missed you so much. I didn’t even know you were working here. You should have told me.” Deep in her mind, she tries to recall if she has told Kun Hang about her second job…and he is right, she hasn’t. The distance between the two mixes with terror; this is not how she imagined the two to be in the same year that they were going to the Olympics. He said this was going to unite them more, and now they are polar opposites of the same dream. “I brought you your favorite sandwich. I made them myself because my class got cancelled.”
“Oh, really? You get to rest for a bit, then.” She replies, putting down the wrinkled sheet of the newspaper before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “What’s up? How are those grades? You’ve been studying a lot.”
“Fine. I had to get some help from a friend to get the hang of it, but university is so much better than high school. I would recommend—” Kun Hang stops his words immediately, physically hissing at what he just said and soon after, he continues with his speech. “How are those replies from universities? Are you doing great?”
“My e-mail is as empty as my heart, that’s for sure.” She jokes around, earning a laugh from Kun Hang…but if only he knew that he is the exact person that has filled that empty heart, and that no one has been able to replace him.
“You’ll get something. I’m sure.” He tries to reason with her before pinching her cheek with two of his fingers. “Am I forgiven for ignoring you lately? I’ve just been so busy—!”
“I haven’t practiced my aim in a while and I would love to put an apple on top of your head and coincidentally miss, just to hit that pretty face of yours.” Flirting slightly, Kun Hang chuckles at her words, although he gains his composure to whine.
“Listen—I really am sorry!”
“Yeah, I’m also sorry.”
He looks confusedly at her, his tongue poking out of his mouth to lick the corner of his lips. “What for?”
“For not being as busy as you, Mr. Gold Medal.” She says, gathering all the newspapers she used and putting them in the trashcan. Kun Hang gets off the counter, walking outside. “I’m done here.”
“I’m glad. I was getting bored.”
“It was only like three minutes, stop being a drama queen.”
Every dream of hers used to be filled with him, and even now it continues to be that way. She looks to his profile to see that Kun Hang has the same hairstyle he had when he was around sixteen years old, and back then he was trying to get a girl to fall for him—of course, that indeed happened. Part of her wonders how many people are interested in him in university, mainly because his personality and good looks were a pair that wouldn’t be missed by anyone.
The man in question decides to destroy her dreams by saying: “One of participants of the Olympics is in one of my classes. You know, a basketball player…and he is head over heels for you. Hasn’t stopped asking me for your number.” But the man that she wants has her number already and he doesn’t use it for anything that isn’t talking to her as a best friend. Tragic, really. Cupid is mocking her with his bow and arrow somewhere, taunting her with a ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ game.
With a push of her hands against the entrance of the hall that leads to the bathrooms, she is welcomed by the greeneries of the archery club, half empty at this point. “I am not into basketball players.”
Kun Hang snaps his fingers at that…and maybe, he is innocent or that brain of his is not used for anything remotely logical. He doesn’t realize that she is not into basketball players because she is in love with one archer, beside her, wearing almost the same clothes as her, looking at her like she is the whole world but he doesn’t mean it. “That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t give it to him…but I don’t really know your type.” The man shrugs his shoulders and she wants to be a boxer for once, just to slap him straight in the face to knock some sense into him. “What kind of guys are you into, then?”
“Easy.”
He opens one of the bags to give it to her, watching as she grabs the meal. “Drop it on me, baby.” The name makes her smile sweetly.
As if it was normal, she drops a soft bomb on him: “Guys who are not into me.”
Rolling his eyes, he nudges her. “Hey, don’t be like that!” They sit down by one of the tables nearby, near the lunch place in the club. “So…” After taking a bite of his sandwich, he continues. “You like someone already?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs, watching as the man widens his eyes.
“What?! You didn’t tell me that!”
She chuckles, trying to hide the reality of all…because she doesn’t want to lose her best friend, not when she is one step away from losing him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Let’s just talk about your university life, I think that’s more interesting than anything else.”
“We haven’t finished talking about this—”
“Oh yes, we have.”
Kun Hang never pushes the subject and she hates it. It smells like the end of their story every time they meet and she is afraid that it has never started. Was Kun Hang just a dream inside a dream?
💘
Yukhei is a good planner after all, and December is their month of spending, at the very least, one week together. Most of the time, festivities get in between the gatherings the group of friends should have together, so they settle down for as many days as they can spend with one another, whether it is in some hotel somewhere in the country, or perhaps a camp where they can all complain and leave as soon as possible. This time around, Jia is the one that gets to pick their meeting spot and her aunt lets her have her lake house for three days straight. This sound like an excellent idea, much more coming from Jia…an expert in picking the best movies in the entire world.
The downside comes fairly quick. Her mind had made out the figure of Kun Hang and herself laying on the couch, making fun of whatever rom-com plot would appear on the screen (“Love is never like that”, he would say, but she kind of hoped it is. That he would magically fall for her, like he had just found out the secret to life.), with a big bowl of popcorn and their friends to accompany them. Nonetheless, Kun Hang says that he wants to study for an exam he has on the very first week of January and with his family’s celebrations, this was the only time he could get some relaxation. By the lake, he sat down on their first morning there to read his textbook, his notebook by one side.
She’s proud of him. The man he has become doesn’t fall short on what he had imagined as his future; he’s studious, given and driven to a career that has to do with what he loves the most, sports. For that, she looks at him from afar, brings him food whenever he needs a snack and sometimes, she hypes him up to keep going. That is something people learn when they become athletes: to always root for your partner, so it would have been idiotic of her to ask for his attention selfishly.
On their second morning there, Jia is preparing what smells like the most put-together breakfast ever. It is no wonder that Jia is the daughter of a franchise’s owner, considering her cooking skills are to be envied. In her part, she is helping with washing the dishes, the two other males in the cabin—Sicheng and Yukhei, the first one being a swimmer—were tucking the sheets on its places, fluffing the pillows and making sure the beds looked intact. Minseo was moping the floor and from the window in the kitchen, she could tell that Kun Hang was peacefully studying by the river. “Go ask your boyfriend to come here and eat with us.” Jia does look like the type of person who is nosy, and she is. Yukhei and herself get along so well for a reason, and that is because she is not actually the most discreet of people. Her bleached blonde hair was tied up on top of her head messily, wearing what seems to be a signed band t-shirt. Quite obviously wealthy, she is.
Minseo, however, gasps from her spot. “D—Don’t say stuff like that! What happened to sweet, innocent boy-and-girl friendships? We are in the twenty-first century, Jia.”
The story of how the group met started with Yukhei, Kun Hang and herself. The encounter was the most well-known, but the next person that was added into their little picture was Sicheng. Turns out that Yukhei had stopped teasing the archers to get a reaction out of the newest swimmer in the training camp, two years after she met Kun Hang. The laughter that left her lips when Sicheng pushed Yukhei into the water, leaving the lanky and tall boy in a surprised daze, had her basically high-fiving the man from the moment they met. Not to be confused with the fact that Yukhei wasn’t so fond of him at the beginning, but with how much she hung out with him whenever she passed by the pools, he started to accept him. To this day, Kun Hang still thinks that there was something in between the two and she wishes she could say it was a reality, just to see if his reaction would change to something beneficial.
Jia’s story is short and they realize it on Sicheng’s fifteenth birthday. She is just his cousin, the one that put bubblegum on his hair when he was a kid and the same one that pushed him into learning how to swim, slightly older than the group, she had always been the pride of their crew. As it turns out, Jia can have any man that she desires…but she still stays with the same guy that she met when she was thirteen years old, even going as far as moving together once they were off to college. He could not be there for the trip, but he was also widely accepted in the group.
And Minseo is Minseo. The one unlucky photography enthusiast that ended up being a cheerleader for Yukhei’s high school team, and she had sparked conversation with the tall—and annoying man—in a rapid motion.
“Seo, you’re so innocent sometimes.” Jia giggles from her spot and she sighs deeply, washing the last plate before pointing at the woman in question with her index finger.
“Minseo is right. I don’t like Kun Hang.”
That is the lie that she always tells everyone…but she thinks that almost everyone in the group believes her. Sicheng couldn’t give two shits about everyone’s love life, Yukhei just doesn’t push on the subject and Minseo is too innocent for her own good. Jia is the only one that is certain there is something going on from her part towards Kun Hang, but even the man himself is unaware of this information. With a waltz in her step, she basks in the moody atmosphere by the lake. Green trees surrounded them, the breeze moving the water rather softly, she thinks she hears the sound of a Joji song in the background, all thanks to Kun Hang’s phone.
With her feet hovering over Kun Hang’s book, she announces: “What if I kicked your book into the lake.”
Kun Hang’s eyes widen, taking her feet in between his hand before grasping it softly. “I think you could be fully capable, but please don’t. This book is worth more than my life.”
“I will do it.”
“No.” Kun Hang pouts, his hand going up her calf to near his mouth to it. He actually bites her, making her squeal as she pulls away from him, hitting him on the shoulder immediately. His laughter heightens by then.
“You’re a fucking ass! That hurt!”
“S—Sorry.” He adds in between laughter, closing his textbook to concentrate on her fully. “Why are you here?”
Her hand extends to put him up his feet, their chests end up pressed together by the time he is in front of her. Kun Hang looks different, more radiant—and she never thought that would be possible—like the smile he uses on his face has made a home of his cheeks and will never leave. “Jia said that you should come eat with us.”
Like he always does, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, not before picking up his phone and shutting the music down. “Lead the way. I’m starving.”
“That’s because you ate dinner too early yesterday.”
“I was tired!”
“And for a reason. You should take breaks in between studying!”
“If I take a break, I will end up napping all evening and getting nothing done.”
“…Well, true.”
Bad ideas introduce themselves in beautiful, white dresses, regarding themselves as nothing less of an angelic being. She should have known that, eventually, Kun Hang would have moved on from the life that he had, since it’s part of growing up. Seated by the table, she sees Jia’s decorative plates holding the waffles she prepared, with scoops of what seems to be honey and strawberries, sweet to the taste from the moment she takes a bite. Yukhei is the one that talks the most, followed by Jia, indicating that they should do something other than watch movies, perhaps take a walk somewhere. Kun Hang begs to differ, saying that he won’t be tagging along, for he needs to keep studying. Thriving for success he must be, so she deems it as necessary and casual.
Until Yukhei speaks up, like the god of destructing beautiful moments that he is. His smile widens from the spot he is in, taking a bit of his second waffle in his fork to throw it at Kun Hang’s face, immediately erasing the grin from his features. “That’s because you’re trying to get that nerdy girl to fall in love with you, huh? That one exchange student.”
The world falls on top of her head, clouds taking over what had previously been the Sun for her. Her eyes fall upon Kun Hang, waiting for him to say something—anything, but he only manages to blush. Huh, funny, she has always wanted to take that reaction out of him but it has not happened. “Shut up.”
Sicheng’s smile widens at that. “Does our little Kun Hang like someone? That’s new.”
Jia is the only one aware of the situation, of how she wants to run away and leave immediately. Her stomach is churning, her forehead is sweating coldly and she thinks she is unable to move. Pushing the food to the front slightly, she hears Kun Hang speak. “Yeah…I guess. She’s so great. I met her in the campus—”
A gag leaves her, standing up from her spot even though she knows she is being the slightest bit dramatic. It feels like betrayal, not from Kun Hang but from life. Is this what she is willing to live for the rest of it? “I—I don’t feel so good. I’m going to lay down for a bit.”
Silence is what she hears, even though she knows people are asking for her. Kun Hang keeps knocking on her door, passing little notes and candies from under her door as it remained locked. She wouldn’t answer, staring into the distance as she cries herself to sleep, only to wake up and realize that she is still in love with the one man who would never love her. Had he not realized that she would give anything just to be seen like a woman in his eyes, or had she been delusional for wishing for something more? By the time the night arrives, she has already packed her things, luggage after luggage standing by the door when she calls a taxi to pick her up in the early morning. She doesn’t want to look back, for she has settled her mind into an idea. Getting over Kun Hang, cutting ties with him, letting go.
If he is able to move on, so is she.
💘
“What is even going on with you?!”
From the reflection in her mirror, she can see Jia take what she would consider ‘The Mom Pose’. Her hands are resting over her hips, her left leg is shaking as she taps her foot and Jia just has this frown on her face that reads both disappointment and confusion. Not that she should feel that way, really, it’s January and what she is doing is something like a resolution. She wishes to be more open to dating, to answer to whatever direct messages she can get on social media as long as she is attracted and of course, all those things will eventually lead to getting over Kun Hang. The part that she doesn’t speak about is that, if Kun Hang wanted it that way, she would be willing to just do this until he is ready to go back to her arms. Pathetic is how it sounds, so she keeps this idea to herself.
No man should be worth her dating life, for she should be able to pick who to be with…but that is the exact same reason why she stays in love with Kun Hang. She has yet to meet a man that makes her feel like he does, with the comfort that he brings her and the liveliness that seeps through him and goes over to her. What man would turn her cloudy days into a festival more than Kun Hang himself?
Yet, he changed for an exchange student in his classes…so why shouldn’t she change for him, too? To better herself, to finally realize that a person shouldn’t a dream. She shouldn’t have fantasized about Kun Hang, ever.
Taking her phone in between her hands, she realizes that this one guy that she is talking to on Instagram hasn’t replied to her, and sure, she is not actually interested in him but having someone else to concentrate on is a magical way to think about Kun Hang much less. Once again, she doesn’t reply to his texts, deciding to silence their chat until further notice and maybe, that is the reason why Jia is in there.
“You have stopped hanging out with Kun Hang just to date around and—that breaks friendship code, or all the codes in the world!” Jia explains, but she should know better than what she is saying. In reality, she is not dating around, for talking to someone is just that…if flirting is included, that is just part of the conversation, but she hasn’t gone out with any of the people she has talked to for the past month. Secondly, liking Kun Hang from the very beginning also broke friendship code and she doesn’t know if that makes her a bad friend at all, but things happened to fast and before she realized, Kun Hang already had her heart in his hands.
“I don’t see what I’m doing wrong.” She argues for herself.
“Everything!” Jia exclaims, taking her phone from her hand before she can keep checking on it. “Kun Hang is confused, out of nowhere you just get mad at him and stop talking to him and I don’t know what is going on with you anymore! I don’t know if you’re still sad about the Olympics, or if you have actually gone insane—!”
Standing up from her spot, she shakes her head quickly, but her blood is boiling to the point she puts her hands in fists. “I want to pull away from a reason. This isn’t any easier on me!”
Jia scoffs. “There is no valid reason for what you’re doing—”
With a dark chuckle, she responds. “There is. I love him and he’s in love with someone else. And this hasn’t happened once or twice, it’s the third time and I am fucking tired of crying for him.” Although Jia had suspected that something was going on in between the two, she never realized just how deep it could be. Love, love, love, why is it that when that word is included, everyone goes crazy? With the rapidness of her breathing, her chest rises and falls consequently. “You’re not going to say a word about this, but I need time. I need space. I need to heal, fuck, I don’t even know what to do anymore!” Jia falls silent, blinking softly as she stares at her friend that has finally broken down that wall that she has kept for almost a decade. “So…just…keep the secret and let me be.”
“I—Uh, this is not the right solution.”
“It’s what’s best for me.”
As it turns out, Jia doesn’t say a word to Kun Hang about her palpitating love for him, but the silence that comes from Jia leads the man to visit her in her apartment.
The apartment itself holds memories of their friendship. Kun Hang was the person that helped her look for an apartment in the first place, hearing her complain about how much of a fuck-girl her previous roommate was and providing the necessary head-nod and the jokes that she needed for such a stressful time in her life. Soon after, he was the same one that helped her unpack and tape the pictures that they had together to her bedroom wall; the vast majority includes pictures of them as they grew up, two with Yukhei, three with Jia and Minseo and still none with Sicheng. She always complains about the matter, of course (“Sicheng, how is it that we go out all the time and yet, we never take a picture together?” “Half of the time I’m taking care of Yukhei, that’s why.” “Touché.”). He would come over almost every day before the Olympics, but then drama filled their lives and she was met with her empty apartment.
So when she sees the man that she is trying to forget right in front of her, she thinks it is time to simply close the door on his face and tell him to never see her again, but she obviously can’t do such thing. For instance, it’s the first time she sees Kun Hang without a textbook in the last four months and he looks extremely apologetic. His eyebrows are scrunched down in what seems to be an apology, wearing that green sweater that she has always loved to snuggle against whenever they were sharing a couch together in their movies rendezvouses. His hair is still short, an indication of this new, more careful persona that he is trying to portray. More put-together, more grown up.
Had she grown up, too?
“I—”
“You’re in my doorstep and I don’t think I invited you.”
Kun Hang’s expression turns somber, taking one step forward before sighing deeply. “I don’t know what I did. I don’t know if it was what Yukhei told everyone about me having a crush and maybe, you felt betrayed.” For a moment, her heart picks up with the idea of Kun Hang knowing. Maybe, that is why he had been so secretive all along. She opens the door wider, as if welcoming him in, but he doesn’t push the subject. “I should have told you. After all, you’re my best friend and you must have thought that I trust Yukhei more than you. Which is not the case, at all!” With a groan of her own, she takes Kun Hang by his arm, pulling him inside her apartment and closing the door behind her.
“The neighbors are going to gossip about us if you stay there.” She whispers, placing her hands inside the pockets of her baggy shorts before looking up into his eyes. Kun Hang is expecting her to say something and she doesn’t know what to say. She hasn’t thought of the excuse that was going to cover up the fact that she was just bitter about Kun Hang having a dating life when she loves him, much more than just a friend. Instead, she hisses slightly, pursing her lips with the action. “I just needed some time. I guess…with you dating…I needed to see what it was like to date, too. I have figured out that you’re like a million steps ahead from me and I felt…excluded.”
Kun Hang’s eyes widen at that, taking a seat on her sofa as if he was just told the secret to life. She follows after his footsteps soon after, figuring out that communication must be what would save this friendship. “You are never going to be excluded from my life.” If only he realized how much he had excluded her for the past few months. The lack of texts wasn’t what was important, but the amount of times he cancelled their plans to hang out with his new friends was worrisome. He didn’t talk as much as he used to in their friends’ group-chat, but whenever they went out he was always on his phone. His profile picture on Instagram is no longer a picture of the two, but now he has one of him posing somewhere in the campus of his university. The people that comment on his social media accounts have inside jokes with him, while she is still waiting for a text. It’s infuriating at its maximum expression. “I love you. You’re my best friend.” How many times is he going to say that?! Enough to compose a song about being friend-zoned, as it seems. “And that will never change. I’m here for you whenever. You don’t need to look for people to date if it’s not your time or place to do it.”
Her forehead wrinkles at that. “What do you mean?”
“Everything should be at your pace.” Kun Hang indicates before leaning back on the couch. “And you shouldn’t just be dating anyone. Like, basketball dude still asks me about you and I say that you are just not prepared for it. That’s the type of vibes I get from you right now.” He always acts like he knows her completely, but Kun Hang is ignorant when it comes to the most obvious of things. A smile spreads across his face, reaching out to hold her hand. “You only deserve the best of the best.”
But she huffs at that, leaning against his shoulder as she decides to give up. She wants to talk it out, at least have her best friend back…because the past month has been turmoil without him. Jia had said so a week before, that all they needed was a good talk to get back to how they used to be. “I’m tired of looking for the best of the best.” Because, to her, that’s Kun Hang. “I just need a guy to tell me I’m hot or beautiful and just—ugh, just pay attention to me, you know?” Her insecurities are showing, all in the shape of having feelings for Kun Hang but never getting them back.
As always, he wraps his arm around her shoulder and his thumb traces soothing circles on the skin. “Basketball guy is always available, if you want something.” He indicates, pushing his hips up to get his phone out of his back-pocket before unlocking it. She gets to see his lock-screen, then, a picture of his Golden Medal and she can’t help but chuckle slightly at the sight. His fingers hover over the Instagram app, opening it and looking through the search-bar until he opened an account. The name read Jun and he is totally different from Kun Hang, a stubble and puffy eyes, rounded cheeks and plush lips. It’s just not…the person she loves. “These days he was saying about how you deserved a man that took you to Paris itself for a date and how you were…kissable and all this shit.” Kissable, Jun said she was ‘kissable’ and he considered that ‘shit’. She doesn’t know if that is a blow to her ego or something else. “I told him you haven’t ever kissed anyone.”
Partially because she has always been waiting for Kun Hang to be her first kiss, but dreams never do come true, she leans. “And that’s wrong?”
With a laugh, Kun Hang responds. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She pulls away from his arms, only to be tugged back into the spot in his side. “Okay, yes, make fun of your virgin friend—”
“It’s nice that you’re waiting for someone that is special. I don’t think it’s him, and I don’t think it’s anyone you know, but that’s for you to judge. I did the same thing, I waited for someone I trusted a lot.” Kun Hang replies and she can’t help but feel a little bit jealous. He also trusts her, but he never asked her to kiss him. A brief moment of silence follows soon after, only to have the man nudging her ribcage. “Do you really want to get it out of the way?”
“I guess…I’m already an adult and I still haven’t kissed anyone.”
“Like I said: There is nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Says the guy who has kissed before.”
Kun Hang clears his throat, pulling away from her before resting both of his hands on her knees. Her eyes look up at him, realizing that his irises are glistening and his lips are half parted. They are closer, perhaps not closer than they have ever been, but it feels entirely different, much more when he says: “We could get it out of the way. I—I need practice because I’m like a five out of ten when kissing…and you want to have your first kiss with someone special.” Finally, she feels like there is some light in them. To kiss someone, there needs to be some attraction, and maybe Kun Hang finds her attractive to certain extent, in her crazily hopeful mind she thinks that a kiss could be all it would take to have him falling for her. Fairytales paint them like that, so why wouldn’t it come true? “Sure, I’m not Prince Eric, but I’m pretty close…”
She laughs awkwardly. “You’re like Donkey from Shrek, I think.”
“Ruin the mood from the first moment, that’s good.” Kun Hang says, one of his hands raising up to rest over her cheek before his fingertips leave a trail of fire down her skin, caressing her jaw and her neck before grabbing her nape. His eyes look down at her lips and she thinks it’s a sight that she wants to remember a minute before her death, for it to replay on her head over and over again. “Are you okay with it?”
“Yes.” She breathes out, rather too quickly, and she is surprised when Kun Hang takes her by the waist to place her over one of his legs. The fabric of his jeans glides against the naked skin of the back of her thighs, her body resting sideways with their chests pressed together. “I, uh, mhm—”
“Couch kisses are always awkward.” Kun Hang adds, biting down on his bottom lip before giggling at his own antics. “I would tell you to straddle me but I don’t know how I will look you in the eyes after this.” He says, a smile appearing over his face before clearing his throat. “God, I must seem like such a kid—”
“And me?” She asks, trying to join in the laughter. “What if I’m not a good kisser and you end up looking at me badly.”
“I would never.” The man confesses before wrapping his hands around her waist. She leans forward into him, closing her eyes and waiting for him to kiss her. His lips hover over hers, his nose touching the side of her cheek when he whispers. “I—I am going to go soft at first and then, I’ll use tongue, okay?”
She tries not to laugh at his antics, perhaps because she is nervous, but anything that she could have said is immediately silenced by the weight of his lips. Kun Hang describes himself like a ‘five out of ten’ in the kissing scale, but the softness and tenderness that comes with him is the epitome of what a fairytale kiss should feel like. His arms are strong around her waist, bringing her closer as he molds his lips against hers, opening and closing them softly, dragging the skin together before opening his mouth slightly. She repeats his actions, trying to keep up with his pace and she gets to do so, all thanks to his slow steps. When she feels the kiss deepening, her heart is beating so quickly that she thinks she is going to die and god, what a way to die in his arms—it would be ridiculous. The man sighs deeply against her lips, caressing her tongue with his before sucking on it slightly. For a moment, he lets her breathe and bites down on her bottom lip, pulling himself back in to steal another soft kiss before trailing them down to her jaw, softly, peppered like fairy-dust to add to the magic. By the time he reaches her neck, he stops himself and pulls away, his eyelids fluttering when he looks up.
“That’s your first kiss.” Kun Hang indicates and the only thing she wants is to pull him back in for another kiss, learn every single thing that she needed to know about romance and all with him. Much to her surprise, however, the man clears his throat. “You’re a nice learner, I have to say.” His fingers pat her thigh softly, almost like the type of pat he would give to someone’s back when comforting them. “Use that second kiss on someone who deserves it.”
What if she thinks he is the only one who is able to deserve love from her?
💘
“Am I late? I just realized before I got here that I didn’t have any clean clothes in my closet—”
Yukhei opens the door wider for her, watching as she enters the living room with rapid steps. There are beautiful moments in life and unusual ones at that, like the time that Kun Hang tells her—two weeks after their first and only kiss—that he is going to take part in an energy drink commercial. Their friendship had grown into its common routine after they talked everything out that evening and maybe, she is driving herself towards a cliff with all the hope that she has been given thanks to just one caress of two best friends in one beautiful, enchanting way, but she is okay with it. Kun Hang seems genuine and in the back of her head she thinks that there is a chance. A small spark that comes in the moments where Kun Hang’s eyes would look down at her lips seeking for another taste.
“You’re just on time. Kun Hang is in the living room.” Yukhei indicates, leading her through the hallway as she crosses her arms over her chest. So, quite sincerely, she had hoped to wear something more put-together for Kun Hang’s big day. The day in which his commercial would be released, showing his talent and hard work as a gold medalist and country representative. However, she had completely forgotten to do her laundry, to the point she had arrived in a white tank-top and a pair of old leggings. Quite the visual, really. Nonetheless, Kun Hang has seen her at her worse, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Freezing, actually.” Her teeth tatter against one another, making Yukhei laugh as they reach the living room. The man lifts one finger up in the air, but she wouldn’t have noticed quickly if only she had not tried to hide her lingering stares towards Kun Hang, saying something rather quickly: “I’m going to look for a sweater in my room, stay here.” She nods her head, smelling popcorn with butter and soda almost immediately. By the couch, there is a nervous-yet-excited looking Kun Hang, munching on popcorn one by one, shaking his leg as his eyes trail from his phone to the screen and finally, at her. “Good night to you, too, star-boy. Haven’t seen you in so long.”
“Recording was tough on me, I guess.” Kun Hang explains, making room for her in the couch not before taking his phone from the spot she is going to take to put it on his lap. His dark eyes look at her for a moment, smiling before looking forward once again. “Imagine if I have a booger on that video-clip. Like, I would be the joke of the entire…continent.”
“Boogers are natural, though.” She replies, taking a handful of popcorn in her hand before putting it up her lips and eating some. “Dude, but you’ll be in TV! Just last year, we were celebrating because we were going to the Olympics and now you’re going to be all cool, the face of a brand.”
“…Yeah.” Kun Hang’s squeals slightly, throwing his head back in delight before his smile erases. “I hope I get big opportunities from this.”
“You will.” Always with certainty, she answers. Something is hidden deep within her, but she is not afraid to let it show, in the way her eyes practically throw arrows of love at him in hopes of getting what she has always wanted from him. Perhaps, it’s selfish—she loves him as a friend, too, but isn’t she worthy of Kun Hang? “Kun—” When she tries to speak up on this, her words are cut off by the sound of Kun Hang’s phone, the man lifts it up quickly and picks up the call. If her eyes are filled with love, his are full of adoration but they don’t belong to her. They don’t even meet her gaze as she calls out someone’s name, the same name of the woman that Yukhei said he was crushing on.
With her word shattered in her hand, she realizes the reason behind Kun Hang’s words when he opted to kiss her. His practice meant that he was going to use it on someone else, that he wanted to be good enough for a woman that isn’t her. His body relaxes against the couch, playing with two popcorns in his fingers before speaking up once again. “You’re excited? I thought you’d be too busy studying to watch my commercial…” His voice is lower, like he wants to entice this woman into something, and she notices just how miniscule she is to him in the romantic environment. He loves her as a friend and she has a hard time understanding that there is a huge fence that she is unable to cross just to get to his heart. “Yeah, I’m with my friends right now.” He comments and then, he bites down on his bottom lip. “I would have loved to watch this commercial with you, too.”
Her interest in the situation is cut short when she feels the weight of a sweater falling on top of her head, clouding her vision as Yukhei says. “There you go. I’m going to look for some more snacks.” The host indicates before going over to the kitchen. She feels like she is unable to move, taking the fabric in her hands with her lips pushed together not to say anything. This is the type of love Kun Hang is always going to give her, one-sided and for friends. She should stop trying, but she can’t…whenever she is around him, she feels like there might be a possibility that she will never stop loving him. Perhaps, she has never appeared in Kun Hang’s dreams, while for her, he is the concept of the word itself.
💘
Bow. Arrow. Target. Shoot and you have art. Shoot and feel like you have control, poise and power. She shoots the arrow and remembers who is the person that accompanied her throughout her journey in archery. It’s Kun Hang, the same person that is in almost every picture she has of her birthdays, the same one that fills files in her computer with screenshots of conversations they had, pictures of when they were younger, documents in which she would write down what she felt about him—back when she was cringy-er and hoping to someday confess to him. The day never came and Kun Hang fell in love with people, he continues to fall in love to the point he posts a picture of himself with this ‘Grace’ girl, her light brown tied behind her back, wearing a matching outfit with him as they study in the library. Grace is so studious, and she has yet to get an acceptance letter from a university.
Just how wrong it is to feel jealous. It’s the worst feeling in the world, because you hate someone that usually you don’t know and for a reason that doesn’t have to do with their personality altogether. In some moments of her life, she has found herself looking through this girl’s social media accounts, wondering in what way she would be able to compete against her. Such a toxic mentality has taken home of her and when she got a rejection letter from Kun Hang’s university, she thought it was a sign. Maybe, Kun Hang is just not for her…life knows what it is doing, perhaps they wouldn’t have worked, but she keeps trying anyway.
When people tell you to never let go of your dreams…you try again. It’s the athlete mentality.
But all she can think about is the picture of Kun Hang, the hearts in the caption and when she shoots the arrow, she thinks that is the only thing that connects them. Grace would not be able to take that away from them, she believes. Waiting she is, in the depths of the archery club, because she has tried to continue with her real dream. Not the romantic one, at least. She needs to reconnect with her passion, try again for the Olympics…maybe, or do something that would take her to a nice road in her life. However, when she hears people nearing her, only five minutes before their meeting time, she realizes that Kun Hang’s voice is accompanied by a much softer one, incredibly sweet, high in its tone and its breathiness.
Once she turns around, she sees that Kun Hang is close to this girl, leaning down so she can talk to his ear. She giggles at whatever he says and soon after, he is joining in the laughter. His skin is coated by the sweetest color of pink, something that she would have wished to cause on him and the moment he catches her gaze, he trots over to her, lifting a hand to indicate Grace to wait over where she is standing. “Hey,” He greets her, making her raise one of her eyebrows in confusion. “I—”
“You brought Grace here.”
“I did, yeah.” Kun Hang’s smile falters slightly and she feels bad for being this way with him. He deserved to love someone and she had never been open enough for him to know her love for him. Would it have been easier if only she had confessed what she felt? “Are you okay with it? I wanted the three of us to be here, you know.”
“Oh no, no, no. I should leave.” She says, putting her bow and arrow down before clearing her throat. “Listen, Kun Hang…I know…You should have told me. This is a thing that…you know, both of us do together. I thought—Well, normally we don’t bring people along.” Her excuses fall in stuttered words, watching as Kun Hang’s face contorts in something that looks like confusion.
“You know I like her. I wanted to show her my talent—”
He likes her, he adores her, his eyes are only set on Grace. Like the name says, what a graceful moment. “Yeah, it’s okay. It’s not like our practices are important at all.” The bitterness on her tone is clear, pressing her lips together to stop from telling her that she is in love with him, but this would be a bad time. She has always waited and life is about taking the chance to reach your dreams immediately, if you wait…your dream runs away to someone else. It is right when they say to never dream of people, but only to dream of yourself reaching goals that should only be emotional or mental. “You go around and replace me like I am worth a pile of shit. I have to be your third wheel because you don’t even trust me to tell me these things—”
“What?” Kun Hang asks, lowering his voice slightly. “What are you even saying? I thought you’d be fine. Besides, you’re already good at this—”
“It’s not about how good I am. This is our time together. We are a duo.”
“This will make me stand out. Don’t let me die like this.” The spitefulness in his words lets her know just how much of a weight she is being. She needs to let go, she realizes at that moment, but how wrong it is of her to miss him when she hasn’t had him. Perhaps, this friendship has always been one-sided and it has been more of a crush than anything else. Should she stop a friendship just because she can’t stop the ache of her heart, or should she just help herself and stay with Kun Hang, getting over him slowly and surely? “We…we still are a duo, but with someone else. She could be of your liking.”
She shakes her head, smiling bitterly. “You never really…realize why I like…why I like practicing with you alone so much?”
He scoffs, his prince-like nature covered with anger. “I don’t know. Should I know? I never got the memo that you’re this attached to our friendship.”
“Yeah, yeah. Attached. That’s it. I’m fucking attached.” She nods her head quickly, picking up her backpack from the floor and tossing it over her shoulder before sighing. “It’s my fault, you know. Everything that has happened these past few months is my fault.” The sarcasm in her tone is palpable and she gets close to him, looking into his eyes before muttering softly. “Because it’s not your fault that you kissed me and then, you bring this girl here and—”
“We were practicing!”
“Of course.” She tells him, blinking away any tears that could appear. She doesn’t want to show her pride shattering on his own hands. “I’m sure she’d think it is totally normal that we were practicing, with each other and it totally didn’t mean anything because you have never opened your fucking eyes and—”
“Hi!” Grace says as she jogs over to where they are, raising her hand with a wave before looking in between the two. “You’re Kun Hang’s best friend, right? I’ve heard plenty about you.”
“So have I about you.” She says, a fake smile appearing on her face as she bows delicately. “Sorry that I can’t stay right now. I just realized that I have something to do.”
After saying her greetings, she walks out of the archery club, finally coming to the conclusion that it has always been her fault. Communication was where she fell wrong, or perhaps she had thought the impossible would happen. She had linked her passion with the only man that she has ever loved, only to realize that he had always seen the world as a bigger place. Sometimes, she wishes she could rewrite everything, from the introduction to the end, because this one sounds like it is it.
💘
Some goodbyes are harder than others.
Perhaps, Kun Hang is right and Jun is more of a fit for her, which is why she accepts his follow request when he coincidentally asks for it on Instagram days after her fight with her best friend. Speaking of, she tries to close a chapter by sending him a short ‘I am in love with you, and I’m planning to get over you. Goodbye.’ To him. It’s not well received, of course, Kun Hang responds with what seems to be a million questions that he continuously sends for weeks to no end. He wants to know if the kiss meant too much for her, since when she felt this way, why she had never told. Some days, he simply wants to know why she had never told him anything. Other nights, he says he misses her. On one night, Kun Hang says that he wants to talk, and that in any other occasion of his life he would have been down to try it out with her, but for now…Grace is his type of person to date. Perhaps, she should answer at least one of his questions, but she doesn’t find it within her. She doesn’t want to remember just how much of a fool she had been.
Because that is exactly what she had done. One day, she will get him out of her head; tomorrow, tonight, yesterday, today, in two weeks, in two days, in a million years…one day, her day will come where she will fall for someone else, but Kun Hang makes it hard. He doesn’t get the memo that talking to someone as they are trying to get over you is not a good thing, just like how he tries to tag along with her in the archery club, the one that she abandons a month after their argument in the same place to better her abilities in archery while not having to concentrate on a man. After all, it was difficult to have Kun Hang walking behind her as he asks to talk, only to have her closing any door to him. Physical ones and the one in her heart.
But he is a memory, one that is palpable and she finds within the most simplistic things in her life. Her kitchen, her favorite shirt—because he said he adored how it looked on her—, the pictures that she has hanging on her wall and the same ones that she takes out to replace with photographs taken by her polaroid. Minseo is there, so is Jia and Yukhei, Sicheng and even Jun, the new addition to her group of friends, but she is too weak to get rid of the ones that include Kun Hang. In one of the hardest days of the past three months, she tries to burn one of the pictures, only to stop herself soon after. Although the ending was bitter, the friendship they shared on its own was beautiful. Crafted by the gods, ruined by human emotions, destroyed by her lack of conversational skills when it comes to confessing something.
Three months is all it takes for her to go to a championship, with an instructor that believes in her fully and now, after the Olympics, she knows not to get too nervous, just enough to let her reach her dreams. Her hands rub against one another, the coldness of the field surprising her entirely. She is getting ready to be called, perhaps thirty minutes from there and in the bleachers, she sees three of her friends—Yukhei, Sicheng and Jun. Jun holds a sign that reads her name, written in pink and sparkly letters. Sometimes, she wonders if she is leading him on…doing the same thing that Kun Hang had innocently done, but she has always been sincere to him. She needs to heal, start to love herself before loving anyone else, finding out that she loves baking not because she bakes for a man, but because she loves stealing a little taste of the whisk when she is mixing. Finding out that she loves her friends and she has a lot in common with Sicheng—contrary to what she used to believe, that she was going to be just like Jia because she had fallen in love with her best friend. Also, Jia is getting married soon and she has to learn that there are faces that you just need to look at. She is not going to cut her friends off just to get a man out of her head.
The moment comes oh-too-fast. It doesn’t happen in Jia’s wedding, when she is going to wear a bridesmaid dress and she is going to have Minseo by her side, but it happens when she is in the middle of a championship, set on earning a gold medal for herself, to hang it in the room that had been once cladded by memories of the man that made her realize that she is more important than anyone else in her life. First, she realizes that Yukhei and Sicheng have two signs, one with Kun Hang’s name and one with hers. Soon after, she feels a tap on her shoulder and what comes next is not something she expected.
She imagined that when they were going to meet again, because life is a bitch and it always brings you back to the beginning, he was going to say something along the lines of ‘long time no see’. Instead, he greets her with:
“I’m so glad to see you here.” Those words should have weighted more and perhaps, in the past, a few months back, they would have made her cycle back into the little house that she had crafted in her head to purely think about the man. Now, close to starting her semester and basically reaching for a better version of herself, she just thinks of this as a greeting. Nostalgic, heavy, but it doesn’t mean that much. “I—I have wanted to apologize for so long.”
She chuckles at that, the corners of her mouth lifting up as she speaks out a small: “Excuse me? Why are you going to apologize?” She has forgiven him by now. It is not his fault to fall in love with someone, just like it wasn’t her fault to fall in love with him. They were the same, just not with one another.
“Because…because I was a dick. I—I want to confess that I…I did lead you on.” The words are also ones that she wouldn’t have ever thought of, and she doesn’t say anything because she wants to hear what he is trying to say. In the past, she would have said that Kun Hang was leading her on innocently, but now that she is a little bit clearer in her mind, she thinks they were just being…childhood friends, the closest ones, people that had gotten so used to one another and their warmth that they didn’t mind hugging, holding each other, as long as they showed their love. Albeit, very different in their minds. “It’s not the right place to tell you this, but I have thought about this for these three months that we haven’t talked to each other,” His words fall quieter the more he talks. “And I—Don’t get me wrong, I knew you liked me…but I didn’t actually think it would be that strong. I didn’t know you had fallen in love with me.”
“Because I didn’t tell you.” She clears up.
“No. I…I understand why you didn’t tell me.” Kun Hang says, looking at her uniform and then, smiling. “You’re competing, that’s good.”
“I am.” The clarification makes her happy about herself, about how hard she has worked lately. “You are still studying, right? How’s Grace?”
“We broke up. You didn’t know?”
“I unfollowed you on Instagram. I felt like it was needed.” She replies, nodding her head slowly as she remembers the night she did and how she deleted all her pictures with him from her feed, too. “So, how did you know I was in love with you? I never told you.”
“Ah…I figured it out.” Kun Hang replies, looking over her shoulder to see that Jun is waiting in the bleachers, trying to convince the much shorter Yukhei and Sicheng to sing a song to inspire her. A sad smile appears on his face, as if he has just realized something and now, he can’t say a thing. “Uh…Jun and you…?”
“Just friends. Like us. He likes me, I’m still figuring it out. I feel…” She looks back, seeing the happy expression of the crooked smile man. The sweetness that comes from him, along with awkwardness, is nothing like how Kun Hang is…and that is new. “I feel like we could work it out.”
“That’s nice.”
When the conversation starts to get awkward, she notices that it is the moment that she has been waiting for since she was eleven. The time where she would tell Kun Hang everything, but this time it is not a love confession—even though, her dreams late at night betray her and show him—, this time, she wants to give closure to a moment in her life. “I…I wish everything would have happened in reverse. Me figuring my life out and then, falling in love with you. Me being honest with myself and my feelings and then, telling them to you. I wish I wouldn’t have been so stupid as I was and maybe, we could have had such a good friendship…or even something more, I don’t know. I don’t play with fate anymore.” She laughs, imagining the times that she used to believe that fate was always going to do what she wanted. It’s not what she wants, but what she needs that life does. “Right now, I don’t think I am in a position to be your friend. Perhaps, in the future…I will be able to come to terms that I don’t love you anymore, but I have to…to know how it feels like to have friends that you don’t feel romantically attracted to. I have to know what it feels like to have a kiss that is romantic from both sides. To have a dream that is not shared, a career that is not based on what another person wants. Someday, I will be strong enough to do this with you by my side…but for now, I feel like it is better if we stay away from each other.”
Kun Hang’s expression changes, to the point she thinks she has broken his heart. If her romantic love for him felt strong, then his connection with her was equally as sturdy, just in another mindset. He saw her as a best friend, just that she had painted hearts around the issue. Maybe, the reason behind his break up has to do with her…with his disconnection from a relationship that could have blossomed, but she doesn’t want to think about it. She has to move on, just like how she has done. “Okay…yeah. I love you, okay? I want you to know that.”
And for the first time, she doesn’t wonder if it’s a friendship ‘I love you’ or a romantic one. It feels like the awakening of a dream, where she realizes that maybe along the way, they had felt the same sentiment towards another…love, but if she never reached for her dreams, she has to live with the consequences.
Time will tell, but for now, she is happy with the time she has with herself.
So, that friendship closes with the most beautiful of gifts: “I love you, too, Kun Hang.”
#hendery scenarios#wayv scenarios#nct scenarios#hendery#nct#wayv#writing#kpop scenarios#hendery fluff#hendery angst#hendery au#nct fluff#nct angst#nct au#way v fluff#wayv angst#wayv au#olympic archer!hendery#best friend!au#unrequited love!au#tell me what you think of this pretty please!!!
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FIC: Terms of Engagement ch.7
Summary: Rus is still a kid himself and with his life turned upside-down, he has no idea how he’s going to take care of his baby brother. Having other kid skeletons appear in his world wasn’t exactly the help he was looking for.
Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Undertale Sans, Undertale Papyrus, Babybones, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Possible Past Child Abuse, Skellie Daycare, Growing Up Together, Big Brothers Caring For Their Little Bros, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Violence
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |
Chapter Six
~~*~~
Read Chapter Seven on AO3
or
Read It Here!
~~*~~
The artificial light streaming in through the window was already conspiring to wake Rus when the kicked open door finished the job. He groaned aloud, rolling over and yanking the blanket over his head as he mumbled, “c’mon, bro, five more minutes.”
“Is that how you always greet Blue in the morning? Because if so, you and my brother have a great deal more in common than I thought.”
That deep, raspy voice was nothing like the sweeter, higher version of Blue’s. Rus scrambled to sit up, fighting free of the tangled blankets and choking back a scream as he met a pair of crimson eye lights set in a scarred face.
Memory jolted into place and shame came fast on its heels, fuck, how would that have made Edge feel, that the sight of his face scared the shit out of him? Wasn’t like the scars were the kid’s fault or his LV, if Rus was understanding things right.
Edge’s mouth twisted wryly and Rus’s soul ached guiltily. Might not have hidden that as well as he hoped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. How are you feeling?”
“fine,” Rus croaked, sounding exactly like shit. “better, i mean.”
“Hm.” Edge sat on the side of the bed, his bed, Rus realized, made in the form of a race car like Blue’s was of a Volkswagen beetle. Always those almost similarities, younger brothers instead of older, turn left instead of right, their worlds not the same but still not exactly different.
Edge pulled up the blanket enough to expose his ankle. The testing pressure of his fingers made Rus wince. “Still a little bruised, but you should be all right.” That touch lingered, soothing over the dark spots mottling the bone, until Rus shifted uncomfortably. Then Edge drew away, straightening. “Red wanted to speak with you.”
“yeah, i bet.” Maybe in the time Rus was asleep, he’d come up with some ideas on how the hell he was going to get home. Edge went over to the closet, rummaging through looked like a sparse selection, and finally brought back a neat stack of clothes.
“Here, you’d probably like to change. I’ll wait outside the door if you need help down the stairs.”
“thanks,” Rus said, weakly. Edge only nodded and left, closing the door behind him.
The pants fit at the hips well enough, but Rus had to cuff them to keep from dragging on the floor. That was a novel experience, not too many Monsters back home were taller than him, especially not Blue.
He paused to think of his brother, closing his sockets. Right about now Blue would usually be waking him up to head out to his sentry post. Not today, today he was worried, maybe out searching the woods for him. maybe he’d been searching since last night. There was no way of knowing when Blue discovered he was actually missing and not just slacking off over in one of the Hotland posts, selling hot cats for an extra buck. He knew his brother, so well, and Blue would be frantic by now, Snowdin would have been searched from top to bottom and there was no way to let him know Rus was all right.
Well, mostly all right.
Rus sighed shakily and pulled the shirt Edge gave him over his head. He couldn’t worry about Blue now, worry wasn’t gonna get him home. But as he pulled on the shirt, he could smell the same laundry detergent his brother used, exactly the same, and by the time he yanked it down to his waist, Rus was angrily swiping away tears.
Time to get downstairs and start planning.
He limped his way cautiously to the door and happened to catch sight of himself in the mirror over the dresser. If he sounded like shit, he looked worse, but that wasn’t what froze him. The shirt was plain cotton, worn to softness over many washes, and looked as if once it proclaimed the wearer to be a ‘cool dude’. That was slashed across with red paint and bold penmanship declared overtop, “Bad Ass!”
It made him smile, a little sadly. The Edge he’d met yesterday seemed like the type to wear something like this but it was hard to reconcile that with the sweet kid he’d known, the one who was so awed by his first bisicle.
(I’m going to marry you, Russy.)
Rus shoved that memory back into the mental box at the back of his mind and headed out the door. Edge was waiting and again Rus was struck by how damn tall he was. It was one thing to notice it when he was sitting down, something else entirely when Rus was standing next to him and actually had to look up.
“Let me help you,” Edge said, reaching for him. Rus shied back, almost stumbling as his weak ankle protested.
“no! No, i’m good, thanks, i got it.”
If he didn’t already feel like shit, then the flutter of emotion that crossed Edge’s face would’ve done the job. The briefest flicker of obvious hurt, quickly masked.
Rus swallowed hard, “sorry, i didn’t mean--”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edge said gruffly. He went past Rus, keeping a careful distance between them and headed downstairs.
Well, fuck.
He was feeling raw and unnerved, but there was no reason to take it out on the guy who was only trying to help him. Rus heaved a mental sigh and hobbled down after Edge, following him into the kitchen.
Red was already sitting at the table and the spread of food around him made Rus stare in drooling shock. There was a heaping plate of pancakes, melting butter oozing down the sides from the top of the stack. A plateful of brown sausages next to a bowl of cheery yellow scrambled eggs, golden hash browns, and fluffy biscuits alongside an open jar of bright red jam, a sticky spoon poking out of the top.
“mornin', bean pole,” Red mumbled, shoveling in another bite. “grab a plate and we’ll talk.”
Rus didn’t have a stomach to rumble, but damn if his soul didn’t give a lurch like it was about to hop out and load up a plate of its own. Rus hastily grabbed a plate and filled it, moaning aloud as he scooped up his first bite of syrupy pancake.
“this is so good,” Rus said around the mouthful. The look Edge sent him was so much like Blue, a pointed ‘Really? Those are your manners?’ stare, that he couldn’t help grinning sheepishly, swallowing before he repeated. “it’s great. considering some of the crap you cooked up back in the day, i gotta say, seeing you making decent food is probably the freakiest thing here.”
“nah, this ain't me,” Red said around his chewing. Edge swatted him on the back of the skull. Looked like he was less restrained with challenging his brother’s manners. Red swallowed and gave him an unapologetic grin. “sorry, bro. anyway, i don’t do the cooking, ‘bout all i can handle is reheating and dishes.”
“oh.” Rus managed a smile for Edge, trying not to let his gaze linger on the heavy crack through his socket. There was no good way to explain that it wasn’t the scar that put him off, it was what it meant. That innocent kid suffering and some part of Rus still believed he could’ve stopped it. If only, if only, and yeah, he hated that crack, hated it. But for right now, delicious pancakes were the game. ”edge, this is really amazingly good.”
“Thank you.” To Rus’s delight, his cheek bones went faintly pink. That scarred face was like a mask overtop the kid he’d known and every once in a while, the kid would peek out shyly. “This is somewhat more expansive than we’d normally have, but since we have a guest for breakfast--”
Red interrupted with a loud guffaw, “yeah, he put on the ritz for you. stay as long as you like if it’s gonna get me this kind of spread.”
Delicious as the food was, that reminder made Rus’s appetite wane. He managed a few more bites, not wanting to waste the food when he damn well knew himself how scarce supplies could be from time to time. In the end, Rus had to push his plate away, only half-eaten. Red was already finished, his plate practically licked clean and Edge only began eating after they finished, polishing off the cooling food and, yeah, maybe his manners were a little better but he still ate hungrily.
Red poured out coffee from a carafe, pushing mugs around the table. “okay, rus. now that we’ve got the eats outta the way, we need to figure out how the hell you got here. i’m guessin' you weren’t trying to show up at our door.”
Rus shook his head. “sorry, but no.” He took a sip of the coffee and almost gagged, “what the fuck is that?!”
“Chicory,” Edge said. He didn’t even bother to stifle his amusement and Rus pretended not to see he was finishing off the leftovers from Rus’s plate. “It’s easier to get and cheaper than coffee, but it does take some getting used to. Here.” He went to a tall cupboard and rummaged, bringing back a small jar. It was honey and Rus took it gratefully, stirring in a healthy (or not so much) spoonful. His next sip was still lingering bitter, but not quite that dark-roasted nightmare of the first.
“happy now?” Red asked lazily.
Rus was about to answer when Edge said, stiffly, “Yes.”
“good, then let’s get started.” Red leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees and his crimson gaze intent, “start from the beginning. tell me everythin', every detail, don’t care if you think it’s stupid, got me?”
So Rus did. Every detail, from getting up that morning, the way he’d been thinking about him and Edge, remembering them for no particular reason he could come up with. The way he’d felt agitated, almost urged to head downstairs to check on the machine. Despite what Red said, he still felt stupid describing how the machine made him feel, like it wanted to be used.
But the Fell brothers only listened intently and Edge nodded grimly as Rus haltingly explained how just being around the machine made his bones crawl.
“...and that was when i shortcutted out. i was trying to shortcut out to my sentry station, but--”
“wait,” Red interrupted, latching onto that eagerly, his sockets narrowing. “shortcut?”
With a jolt, Rus realized Red hadn’t been there when Sans taught him and it seemed he hadn’t figured it out on his own. “um, yeah, it’s kinda like teleporting. sans figured it out and he showed me how, before we shut down the machines.”
“Like teleporting?” Edge paused as he was clearing the table with a stack of plates in his hands. He looked a hellava lot more shocked than Red, sockets wide and astonished.
Red waved it off. “not that much of a surprise, bro, we know the docs were tryin' to find a way outta the barrier. okay,” Red said, slowly. “so you usually take a shortcut to your sentry station. you ever shortcut around the machine before?”
“loads of times,” Rus shrugged. “that’s how i got the damn thing to snowdin to begin with, i don’t even know how you two managed to move it.”
“we’ll go back to that. show me how a shortcut works.”
“now?”
Red raised brow bone and asked with sardonic politeness, “you wanna get home to blue?”
“um, yeah.” Guess Red had some asshole left in him. Rus looked around uncertainly. “i’ll go out to the living room?”
“wherever works, try it.”
Rus nodded and took a deep breath. Shortcutting was easy once you knew the trick of it. Drawing on his magic, the picture of where firmly in his mind, and all he needed to do was step through the void and--
Rus choked on a scream, every atom in his body felt like it was tearing itself apart from the inside in agonizing slow motion. The sear of pain blinded him and he nearly fell, saved only by Edge catching his arm and hauling him back upright. Thoughtlessly, Rus lurched into those strong arms, clinging as the pain slowly, slowly ebbed. They slipped around him after a startled moment, then pulled him in close, settling Rus to sit on bony legs as Edge murmured soft, wordless noises of comfort.
“oh, oh fuck,” Rus sobbed. His hands fisted into the shirt beneath his cheek bone. Little aftershocks were still spiking through him, vicious needle jabs of pain. “oh, that hurt so much.”
“easy, easy,” Red said, behind him, clearly upset, “shit, sorry! i thought somethin' might happen but I didn’t expect that!”
Rus barely heard him. He looked up at Edge, his vision blurred with tears as he whispered hoarsely, “i can’t shortcut.”
He’d been able to shortcut for some fifteen years now, it was his escape, his power, and to lose it felt like he really had lost a leg.
“I’m so sorry,” Edge said, softly. Offering gentle sympathy even though his face was proof he’d gone through so much more than Rus could imagine.
Thoughtlessly, Rus raised a hand, tracing that crack through his socket with a timid fingertip. He’d kept it for the effect, Edge said, offered to let Rus kiss it to make it better. That socket widened but Edge didn’t draw away, let him trace the ragged line down his cheek bone.
Then his sense kicked back in and Rus realized he was damn well sitting in Edge’s lap, groping his face like some kind of pervert.
Rus took a deep, shuddery breath and lurched unsteadily to his feet. “can i go outside and smoke here?”
“sure, go ahead,” Red said. His crimson eye lights searched Rus’s face carefully. “don’t wander too far from the house.”
Rus nodded and fled.
He walked slowly upstairs to get his cigarettes, where once he would have simply shortcutted up. Didn’t think about that, only rummaged through his hoodie for his smokes and lighter.
Downstairs, he hesitated at the front door. His shoe was stained with marrow, dried into dark splotches. Rus’s mouth tightened grimly as he shoved his bruised foot into it anyway, not bothering to tie them as he slipped out the door. The artificial light was at its highest, close to simulated noon, damn, he had slept a long time.
Rus dusted off the porch and sat down, shaking out a cigarette and lighting it despite the trembling flame of his lighter. The first rush of nicotine into his magic soothed him and Rus sat there, smoking quietly, but he couldn’t quite relax. He could still feel the low thrum of the shielding magic around the house, essentially checking and rechecking him for Intent, and finally, Rus stood and took a few steps away until the feeling faded.
From here, he could get a pretty good look at the town. If it was maybe a little dingy-er than his version of Snowdin, that wasn’t the only change. Instead of the bright, elegant sign lettering for Muffet’s Bakery, there was bold, plain one declaring itself as Grillby’s. He was too far away to see inside, but the Monster stumbling out the door didn’t look like they’d stopped in for a pastry.
The only Grillbie he knew was a Fire Monster who lived over in Hotland and she wouldn’t have been caught alive in Snowdin, since she was pretty much sure the snow would snuff her out two steps in.
He wondered if this world’s Muffet was in Hotland, if she ran her bakery out there and did she stop at a sentry station sometimes for a hotcat, or whatever they had here? Was Edge friends with this Grillby, did he stop in to get all the gossip? What else was not quite the same, tipped to one side and wrong? He didn’t know, but it was something to think about, wasn’t it. Better than remembering that he was stuck here and the wall surrounding Snowdin was in sight, a magic-soaked barrier to keep out whatever horrors lived in the Woods.
He stood there, lost in his wondering with nothing but miserable time to do it in, and that was how the children found him. The same kids he’d seen yesterday or maybe not, Rus couldn’t be sure.They approached him curiously, warily, all of them in worn clothes showing neat patches and clomping around in an older siblings’ hand-me-down boots. But their cheeks were full and their eyes were bright, interested in this new stranger in their midst. The pack of them were standing around the mailboxes, huddling together as if by sticking close, maybe Rus wouldn’t see them staring.
They almost looked familiar, another sidestep away from his world.
“hey,” Rus called out to them. A half dozen pairs of eyes went wide, one kid muffling a startled shriek and Rus shook his head. Kids. Looked like they were about the same even in different universes. He crouched to put out his cigarette in the snow before shoving the butt into his pocket. “hey, you guys want to see a magic trick?”
That got ‘em. Rus reached into his pocket and pulled out a G coin, weaving it easily through his fingers. It was a cheap trick but it do look impressive to a kid, and soon the boldest of them left the herd, creeping in closer to watch with wide eyes as Rus spun the gold piece through his fingers, walking it across his knuckles in a spin and a dance.
Since he didn’t grab the brave one and eat him or something, the other kids seemed to decide he was safe enough. They all crept closer, a collection of wide eyes and runny noses, watching as he switched hands, staring as that coin pirouetted and twirled across the backs of his fingers.
He ended with a flourish, the coin spinning up high for Rus to snatch out of the air. He bowed grandly and the kids gave him a smattering of applause.
“ah, but i’m not finished! watch this.”
He crouched down next to the bold kid and showed him the coin. “i bet you can blow this coin away. wanna try?”
The kid nodded furiously and Rus went through the whole show of it. Waving it around so all the kids could see, carefully palming it before holding out his empty fist for the kid to blow on. The round of gasps that came when he opened his hand to show the ‘vanished’ coin was better than any applause from doing card tricks at the NTT resort.
“oh, but wait!” Rus reached behind the kid’s head and ‘plucked’ the coin from thin air, showing it to them all. “Didn’t get far, did it? Here, kid.” He flipped the coin and it spun in the air, head over tails. The kid fumbled for it, wide eyes shining almost as much as the coin.
“For me?”
Again, that memory of the bisicle, of Edge’s low, childish whisper as if he couldn’t believe anything so wonderful could be his. This time it was almost paralyzing, Rus standing with his grin frozen even as the child’s smile began to wobble.
“um. yeah.” Rus fumbled for words before that smile could disappear. “yeah, it’s...it’s all yours, big guy.”
The kid didn’t even say thank you and Rus didn’t give a shit. It was all right there, in those wide, wide eyes and all the kids surrounded him as they walked away, chattering excitedly. Rus watched them go, the turmoil of his emotions swerving into a new direction.
“That’s the second time I’ve seen that trick and I’m still not sure how you did it.”
If he wasn’t already a skeleton, Rus would have jumped out of his fucking skin. As it was, he jerked so hard he almost toppled into the snow, his sore ankle raising everloving hell. Edge was a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets and a faint smile playing on his mouth. Maybe Rus was getting used to that scar, he actually relaxed to see it was only Edge.
“a magician never reveals his secrets,” Rus said breezily. Then curiously, “you remember that?”
“Of course. That was the last morning I saw you.”
Edge reached into the front of his shirt and pulled out a chain and Rus blinked when Edge showed him that dangling from it was a G coin, as untarnished and shiny as the day he’d given it away.
“you kept it?” Rus asked, disbelieving. He reached up to touch it without thinking, hesitating inches away, his hand curling into a fist.
Edge didn’t seem to notice. His wry grin was softer, teasing. “Well, I had to. It seems that my world doesn’t take G with the Queen’s face on it.” Then he sobered. “I wouldn’t have used it, anyway. You gave it to me.”
“i…” Rus didn’t know what to say to that. He looked up into Edge’s face, searching for any sign of that kid...kids. He looked around wildly, but all the sprogs were gone. “shit! that means he won’t be able to spend that!”
“I’ll take care of it. It was kind of you, to give him that.”
Rus shrugged uncomfortably. “no big deal, it’s only a g.”
The way Edge studied him, deep crimson eye lights resting on Rus’s face, was unsettling in a way Rus couldn’t quite explain. “You still do that, too.”
“do what?” Rus asked distractedly. Another cigarette sounded great right now and he started rummaging for the crumpled pack, fishing one out.
“Deflect when someone compliments you.”
Rus froze, unlit cigarette clenched in his teeth. No fucking way, Edge was hardly more than a baby bones when they closed off their machine, he didn’t need late-day psychoanalysis from someone who slept with a teddy bear. Rus shook his head, trying not to snap as he said, “i do not! it’s not a big deal, that’s all!”
“You do, but that’s all right, Russy.” Edge smiled and there it was, always in that smile. Little Edge, the kid who sat in his lap for stories. “I don’t mind telling you again. Excuse me, I’d better catch them before they try to use that coin in the shop.”
He strode off and Rus watched him go. Putting this version of Edge on top of his memories was almost exactly like trying to compare this Snowdin to his own. Not quite right, tipped a little to the side, and off.
He still wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.
tbc
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#underswap sans#underfell sans#undertale papyrus#undertale sans#baby bones#terms of engagement
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