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binniesthighs · 3 years

Note

hellooo i have read your Han fic and it's so gooooooood you really know how to portray the one and only Han Jisung omgggg. can i ask for a seventeen smut? if it's okay with you. since I'm into Jeonghan these days i really want to know how will Jeonghan react if you two arw bffs since high school then one day things changed, both of you began being so touchy and flirty then he challenges you if you can resist him omgggg like he is so cocky and confident aaaaaah BYE-

aweee thank you so much! I love love love writing for the one and only Han Jisung!! thank you so much for your patience as well anon I’m soooo sorry that this took me an age to get out, but I hope that ya like the product hehe 💕

yjh was here | reader x jeonghan |

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x yoon jeonghan

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: friends to lovers, bit of a comfort fic, bestfriend!jeonghan, cockyandflirty!jeonghan as we love him, lowkey mutual pining, mingyu, wonwoo, soonyoung side characters, coworkers au, mentions of food and mild food dares, mentions of alcohol+getting drunk, mentions of divorce (past), marking, reach-around teasing (r receiving), fluffy unprotected sex, body praising, spicy truth or dare, cuddles

Word count: 4.4k

Yoon Jeonghan had a habit. It wasn’t the worst of habits, but it was the kind that would clutter up your life. Often, you would wonder why he would do it, and why he hadn’t stopped: not even after you had mentioned it so many times.

It had started in high school. High school, that eternity away now. Luckily, your past was riddled with memories of him, and all of the little things that you had shared together; lunches, late nights studying, throwing littler paper wads at eachother from across the room. He would pull at the tie around your neck that was a part of the school uniform just to get a rise out of you. Jeonghan would nap during class, and you would be the one to wake him up with the flick of your finger. On cold walks to school, he would lend you his scarf, and on hot summer nights you’d stay out searching for snacks until sleep drew your eyes down, and he’d let you lean on him the whole walk home.

yjh was here

He wrote it on the first exam you had ever failed in your whole life.

Conversely, he had gotten nearly a perfect score. He was annoyingly good at everything he did. That, or he was just really good at cheating his way through things. When you thought about it, it was likely the latter that was more accurate.

At first you thought it was a joke. It was as if he was taunting you for failing miserably at mathematics II. You were never good at math anyway.

The second time he wrote it was when you had fallen asleep in class. It wasn’t a common occurrence. He’d call you a baby for being scared to fall asleep during class for fear of being startled awake by the teacher. However, this was the week that had been the longest for you: the week that everything fell apart.

Even into your mid twenties, your mother still would never tell you why your father had left that week and you never saw it fit to prod more.

He had written it on a scrap piece of paper after getting you a strawberry milk and leaving it for you on your desk.

yjh was here

Since then, he had taken the opportunity to write it everywhere he could manage. Suddenly his little scribbles filled up the margins of your notebooks; on post-it notes--he’d even etch it onto the skin on your arm in soft blue pen ink. Later, when the two of you had gone on to college, he would sneak into your dorm to write it everywhere he could find. No matter how many times you would erase it from your little whiteboard by your desk, he’d always manage to write it over, noticing immediately that it was gone.

Today, you had noticed that he had slipped it into your legal folder, among other more boring and business-y things and you had no idea how it had gotten there. It must have been sometime the day before, as he had written it on a napkin from the catering company.

yjh was here.

In all the many years that he had followed you from place to place, you must have amassed hundreds of his little notes. You kept the ones that he would give you at work tucked away in a desk, often forgetting that they were kept there until you would stumble upon them, tugging a little smile at your face. The rest of them you kept at home in a little box in your closet, even deeper away, never really knowing why. The act of simply having them was satisfaction enough, in fact, you never really minded a little clutter.

☆彡

With eyes drooping, you scratched away on your yellow note pad, writing a string of nonsense words that sounded important from the presentation. The red setting setting sun reminded you that it was your least favorite time of day: the time where the last work hour of the day would appear to stretch into twenty. Under the table your scratchy cotton work-pants felt even more scratchy than usual. Somewhere above you, the penetrating white fluorescents buzzed like flies.

With a little tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting next to you as he always was. Compared to him, you felt as if you looked like an utter mess. Just as he was annoyingly good at everything, there was never a day that he came into work looking less than perfection. Today it was a tweed two piece with a pressed shirt underneath as well as a navy tie adorning his beautifully slender neck. Around his face befell his deeply dark strands of hair which pricked the edges of his rounded wire glasses.

“This is so boring.” He had mouthed to you, adding a pout to the end of his sentence.

You formed the sound on your lips, “Shhhhh”

“I’m just saying!”

“Pay attention.”

You turned your head back to pretend to care about what your boss had to say. Every fifteen seconds or so you would nod your head to make it appear as if you were diffusing the information he was giving out.

Another tap on your shoulder and Jeonghan displayed his pen to you to draw your attention to the margin of your quarterly report print out.

you look really beautiful today, he had written

“Stop it!” You accidentally hissed, garnering the attention of your nosy and equally bored coworker sitting across from you.

This time you mouthed out the words, “No I don’t.”

“~yessss~” Jeonghan curled out his words with his tiny creeping smile

Your knee bumped into his under the ginormous desk.

“Pay attention, ‘Han.”

“Is there something you would like to add L/n?” Your supervisor’s voice cracked in the silence of the room.

“N-no sir.” your head bowed in repentance.

He elder man tsked in a little sound with his teeth. “I know that we’re getting to the end of the day folks, but let’s just get through this all so we can get home...”

Jeonghan’s tweed pants made a little screeching sound against the fabric of yours when you bumped him again under the guise of the desk.

“Screw you.”

Your friend met your remark with a wink, biting the cap of his pen while his eyes wandered down to show you another little message:

yjh was here

and I’m excited for tonight

☆彡

Wednesdays were customary somaek nights where each of you and your coworkers would gather in your cruelly tiny apartment with their own separate dishes for all to share and forget about the troubles of the midweek. As the year was winding down, it was these nights that would get you through the week. With the bodies of the five of you in your tiny living room cramped around your low-set table, you had almost forgotten that the heating in there barely worked.

With each of your coworkers entrance, they would bring in the smell of autumn with them, and the chill of the air outside. On each of their long coats, bits of leaves would cling to the edges of the fabric. Each Wednesday there would be a royal mess to clean up after, but it was Jeonghan who would often stay after to help you. The two of you would end up in your cruelly tiny kitchen, throwing soap bubbles at each other’s faces drunkenly with socks sliding all over the wooden floors. Jeonghan would write another note to stick on your refrigerator, then he would take you by the hands to twirl you around to some unbearably cheesy sounding OST.

Perhaps it was the way that your head would get fuzzy from the soju and beer, but you loved the way that he would twirl you; it was almost like a waking dream.

“Nobody worry! Nobody! Worry!” Soonyoung burst through your door, case of beer in hand. “I’m not late, I’m actually early! Don’t you know that it’s trendy to appear an hour into the party?” When Soonyoung spoke, he had a habit of speaking with his whole chest.

“Took you long enough,” Mingyu whined, popping in another strip of galbi.

“You don’t enjoy our presence, ‘Gyu?” Wonwoo’s mouth upturned into a teasing grin.

“N-no,” The biggest man babbled, “It’s just that...Wednesdays are somaek evenings.”

“--Then I am here to help you out my friend.” Soonyoung plopped himself right down on the floor with the poof of his blond hair popping from his beanie. “Ahhhh this all looks so delicious.”

“You better pay me back.” You griped while serving him a plate of the assortment.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you, Y/n?”

“Nearly every time I do something for you? You still owe me from the last time we went to karaoke.

“--And for covering for your ass last week...some hangover that was, huh?” Jeonghan scooched over his leftover rice to you.

Soonyoung scoffed while twirling his bottle of soju in the air, the admiring the little tornado swirling inside. “-Was worth it though. We always have fun don’t we?” In his affection, he threw his arms around you and Wonwoo beside him.

“-Food’s gonna get cold.” Wonwoo poked his finger in the general direction.

With his full glass raised in the air after a minute of preparation, Soonyoung lead you all in a toast, cheeks already rosy. The second that your glasses collided, liquid came downpouring to the table, but none of you seemed to mind. Before you could bring your drink to your lips, you caught yourself having a moments pause, watching all of your friends before you. If you could have, you wished you could fold up little moments like these as well to put in your drawer to see when you would feel down.

Jeonghan caught your wistful sigh, sending you a wink. In many ways, you knew he must have known your thoughts.

Under the table, his hand brushed up to your crossed knee, letting his hand linger. He let his hand rest there for a moment, as if he was soaking up your essence in the moment. He had never done it before, but his thumb gently rubbed at your knee, and it felt like a waking dream.

☆彡

The night had ticked on, and you and grown more tired than you had expected by pass of the clock hand. As the night would normally progress, drinks would be had, then each of you would take turns updating the others on what you had been doing or working on. All of you would gather advice or support if needed. There had even been times when you would even provide a shoulder for one to cry on, although that didn’t happen most times.

Others, like today, the five of you would simply sit and enjoy each other’s presence with the window slightly cracked open to let the autumnal air cool your burning bodies. Jokes would be cracked every once and a while until yawns would escape your mouths. By then, another joke would be made about how you were all getting to old to be staying up that late.

Jeonghan played with your hair as you had leaned into him, swirling your final glass of soju in your wrist. While you were hot yourself, the heat from his body was still calming, and the way that his chest would rise and fall was a bit like a lullaby.

“I’m falling asleep, we should head out,” Mingyu clapped Wonwoo by the back.

“Another one for the books.” Soonyoung sighed, then rose up with a stretch of his arms, wrinkling up his white button up and loose tie.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” You shift off of your best friend, shuddering a little at the lack of contact, to close the door after them.

“I’m looking forward to next Wednesday!” Soonyoung beams with a little salute, then bows before shuffling away.

“What time is it?” You yawn out the words, rubbing your eyes.

“Too late. We still need to go in tomorrow, remember?”

Dirty dishes clink in your hands as you bring them to your sink. “We really should start doing this on Fridays.”

“I don’t wanna start cleaning just yet, can we stay here for a while?” Jeonghan spreads his arms out, beckoning you to fall back into him. You laugh a little at the motion.

“Why so touchy? We haven’t done this in so many years...I can’t remember the last time...”

You oblige him, nuzzling right up to his chest once more. He smells a bit of the somaek, but mostly of his usual scent: that cheap cologne that you had bought him about a year ago. You had mostly gotten it as a gag gift, but he had worn it every day since.

“Must have been in high school.” His words are long and breathy.

“How come we stopped?”

Jeonghan takes a minute to answer you, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Instead, he raises a hand to rub at your arm lightly, just as he had done with your knee.

“Dunno. We got older?”

“What does getting older have to do with it?”

You watch in the silence as his thumb continues to rub over the fabric of your long-sleeved button down.

“--Do you want to play a game?” Jeonghan says at last.

“A game? What do you mean?”

“For fun. I’m trying to find something to do so we don’t have to do the dishes.”

“Okay,” You perk up slightly, still not removing yourself from his encircled arms. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Psh what are we, back in high school?”

“Seeing what we are doing right now, wouldn’t you say so?” The words escape Jeonghan’s mouth with a growing grin.

You ruffled to top of his head, messing up his perfectly primped hair. “...Fineeee. You going first or me?”

“I’ll go. Truth.” Jeonghan pulled you back into him, settling your back flush with his chest.

“Okay, truth: did you really mean it when you said that you liked Minji’s power suit? I know you thought it looked tacky.”

Jeonghan’s breathy laugh miffed up your hair. “I’ll say anything if it keeps me in the supervisor’s good graces.”

“HA. I knew it.”

“Which do you pick?”

“Mmmm-truth.”

“Not dare? You’re no fun.”

“I said truth!!!”

“Fine, fine.” His slender arms squeezed at your body to situate you better in between his legs. “When was the last time that you brought someone over to your place?”

“Yo-you mean like “brought someone” over?”

“You know what I mean.” In his voice you could nearly see his mischievous smile.

“I’ve told you about all of them so I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s been about a year.”

“A year? Really?”

“--Nope! You don’t get to ask any more questions. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeonghan said without a moment’s hesitation.

Your eyes wandered the room for his perfect punishment. “Ah! Take that soy sauce, the one with the wasabi bits in it...and drink it.”

Your friend sighed, but took the tiny cup in his fingers to down it all in one shot. He shivered a little and you could feel his face scrunch up, but he held his reactions back best he could.

“That was such a high school dare. You really haven’t changed.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“Truth or dare Y/n.”

“Truth.”

“Ughhh truth again?”

“ ‘Hannnn--”

“Just say dare! I promise that I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fine then. Dare.”

“I dare you...to take your shirt off.”

“What?!” Your head snapped back to send him your deathly glare. “Are you being serious right now?”

“What? It’s nothing that I haven’t seen? Are you forgetting that we’ve been friends for nearly our whole lives? That and college you were someone who would go to parties and take your shirt off. Remember that?”

“...yes.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Fine then.” In one motion, you pulled your shirt over your head, jumping a little once you felt Jeonghan’s hands help tear it off your arms. You hesitated to lay back, but his arms made a decision before you could, and pulled you back into his chest. Now, it was the skin of his fingers on your bare arms that you were painfully aware of.

“T-truth or dare?” You squeaked out.

“Truth.”

“No fair, you made me do dare!”

“I already did a dare. Truth.”

From the other side of your room, your refrigerator clacked with the sound of ice cubes falling into their tray. On the door, dozens of multi-colored post-it-notes had been suck there with clear tape.

“...Why is it that you’re always writing me those notes? “yjh was here?”“

“Hmm.” He breathed out. “I had a feeling that you might ask me that one.”

“...And?”

“--Because I like to. And...”

Your anticipation hung tangibly in the air. You didn’t quite know it, but you had been waiting for his answer for so many years, you had lost count.

“...And I like seeing them around you. -Reminds me that I’m a part of your life. Kind of like how we exist together. They’re little reminders for you as well...to know that I’m around for you.”

“Jeonghan...” You wouldn’t have expected it, but tears singed the corners of your eyes.

“Truth or dare?” He cooed into your ear.

“D-dare.” Your voice shook, realizations flooding you like rain.

“I dare you to take off your pants. Can you do that?” His voice had dropped, low and gravely.

You nodded your answer, and took to unbuttoning your pants, shimmying them off where you sat on the floor. As soon as your bare legs were exposed, he had found a new place to rest his hands; you never would have guessed for them to be so beautiful-looking there.

“I choose dare.” He breathed onto your bare neck.

“I-I dare you take off our shirt too.” Your face felt furiously warm as you uttered the words and he did exactly as he was told. The sensation of your skin on his skin then sent your head spinning with just how close you had been in that moment, closer than ever before.

Jeonghan’s hands explored your bare legs with a touch as soft as butterfly wings. His light touches sent an aching pain to your sex as it had never felt so needy and neglected.

“Truth or dare my love?”

In an attempt to hide your frustration, you could only form the word, “T-truth?”

“Hmm...truth...” Jeonghan began to kneed into your legs, digging his nails in every so slightly. “Have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Secrets? Why-why would I, I don’t-mmph-have any secrets to keep from you.”

“I think that’s a lie Y/n.”

Indeed it was a lie. You had kept secrets from him. Two secrets to be exact; one of them being near the precipice for the whole universe to see.

“I’ve kept secrets from you, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you dare me to show you?”

Your anxious breath caught in your lungs, full of confusion but even more excitement. Jeonghan’s hands crept slowly up to your hips.

He repeated, “Do you?”

“Ye-yes. I dare you to show me.” Your eyes had closed feeling his hands draw even farther up your body.

Your best friend surveyed your whole chest with his hands, swirling around as much skin as he could touch. He was careful not to tickle you, but rather give every ounce of your being his careful attention. For a moment, his fingers grazed over your nipples, but went to cradle your neck in his hands. He turned it to the side to expose the beating vein there, and placed the slowest and most tender kiss upon it. From the feeling of his fleeting lips, you whimpered at the sensation.

“Dare.” You managed with a dry mouth. “I dare you to touch me...anywhere you want...please...”

Jeonghan chuckled slightly into your neck. “I just had my turn, but...I’m listening.”

Your entire body keened under his fingertips, writhing messily between his legs. This time, he was careful in touching you nearly everywhere: your chest, your nipples--pinching them slightly--and down your legs, to your inner thighs where he traced up to your underwear, now wetting a little with your arousal.

“Tell me the truth.” He bit into your skin. “Am I one of your secrets?”

Your answer was given to him in the form of you forcefully tearing from his grip to push his legs together so that you could straddle them. The way that his shoulder blades flexed under your firm grip was dizzying. Your eyes fell to his lips: your secret.

“I dare you to kiss me,” You breathed onto them.

“I thought that you’d never ask.”

Jeonghan was smiling as he pulled your lips into his, and he never quite seemed to stop. Every bit of your love for him spilled into his mouth where you found the comfort from him that you had craved for years. You had felt first kisses before, but nothing was quite like this one. With Jeonghan who you had known for so long, you were thrilled to get to know him in this new and different way, and you wanted to absorb every little bit of it: the way he would caress the sides of your face so gently, or the way that he would angle your neck to meet his lips. You would never have guessed to feel so complete with him like this, but it also made all the sense in the world. It was you that he wanted, and you that he wanted to stay next to through all those years. He had never let you go, and you had never let him either.

In between kisses, you found both of yourselves giggling hysterically.

“Are we really doing this right now? Are we...?” You bit a laugh into his lip.

“Yes. I think that we are.” He engulfed you in his grasp. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Y/n.

Jeonghan scooped you up, moving both of your bodies to the couch where he clinked with his belt buckle to remove his pants. “You really do look beautiful. Everyday. I’m not just saying that.”

You practically clawed at him to lay his body on top of yours, then wrapped your legs around his waist to align him with your own. In your unadulterated intoxication of him, you hopelessly grinded up into him, seeking some kind of stimulation from the mashing of fabric together. After a little scoff, Jeonghan’s hand cascaded down your body to rub at your throbbing sex, marveling in the way that you had soaked though your underwear just a little.

“Wow. This is how you feel about me?”

“Do you want me to say sorry?”

“No--it’s just...I wish that I had known sooner.”

Your lust brought his lips back to yours as you kissed him over and over and over, trying to make up for all of the times that you wished you had done before. His touch on your sensitive skin sent you mewling onto his tongue.

“Can I make you mine now?”

As for your response, your widened legs told him exactly what he needed to know.

In one swift motion, he had tugged off his own briefs, letting free his deliciously hard cock, sparkling at the head with his pre-cum. Looking at him like this, all for you, was like a walking dream.

Jeonghan gathered spit from his tongue to glide over his dick, then teased your impatient entrance while he watched your face contort into the most beautiful shapes he thought he had ever seen. He entered you slowly, letting each of you take in the moment as if you could forget it the next. Once you were together, his brows twitched a little as his closed eyes focused only on you. He filled you up perfectly, as if you were made for him--which you had convinced yourself that you were. Jeonghan buried his face in your neck to suck into the skin, marking you as his.

Your orgasm built much quicker than you had intended, and soon you were begging him to make you cum--which he gladly did. Your heels dug into his back upon your release which gathered more heat between your two bodies. Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you into your own overstimulation and leaving you to melt under him.

“Jeong-han.” You gasped out his name through your teeth as your body quaked from the snap of his hips.

“oh god,” He uttered, tangling his fingers deep into your hair, then smashing his lips back into yours. “you’re so good for me my love...so good...”

Jeonghan let out little grunts as he came and filled you deeply with the warmth from his cum. As he throbbed within you, you knew it really was him you were made for. He lingered inside your walls as your bodies shook together with the aroma of sex fogging the air. After a while, it didn’t take long for both of you to be laughing contentedly into each other’s mouths once more.

Your best friend reached for your hand to bind all of your fingers to his. "No more secrets.”

☆彡

“Do you want the sweatpants from the top shelf or the rack?” Jeonghan called to you through your cruelly tiny apartment. “Wait...i-is this...?”

Once he had returned, in his hand he held the aged strawberry milk carton with the little cartoon fruit on the side and the scrap piece of paper wrapped around it. In the other was your little box of notes.

yjh was here

“I can’t believe that you’ve kept it this long. Why--”

“--I’ll tell you why...it’s my second secret.”

Your best friend cocked his head. “...Second?”

“Ever since that day, I’ve known, Yoon Jeonghan. I love you.”

☆彡

if you’ve got to this point, hehe hello I’m Ro, I write for skz and svt, and I’d love to write some more svt! If you’d like, you can send me your asks

#bestfriendhannie I didn’t know I needed sooo bad #this one actually made me v v soft 🥺#binniesthighs 💌#asks #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles

250 notes · View notes

patt-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies !! and I really hope you like it!!!

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up. You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks #keigo takami #takami keigo #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #secret santa fic #patt’s creations

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

For the meet-ugly prompts: #13, Indruck, SFW ? 👁️👁️

Here you go!

13: we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

The Phoenix Starport is a labyrinth, while technically made of chrome and touch-screens, is really made of lines.

Duck stands in line to show his ticket, to deposit his bags, to go through three separate security check-points and, when he gets to the section for the shuttle to take him to the Starliner, a fourth one because when your clients are high paying, you don’t want them getting blown to pieces.

He isn’t high-paying, he isn’t a seasoned space traveler, and he isn’t going to spend one second more on his feet than he has to. It’s been two solid hours of that just to get to this point. Unfortunately, every other passenger shares this sentiment. When the shuttle door opens a mass of lifeforms pile in, hunting for seats. Duck spots one, turns to sit, and finds it’s much fuzzier than it looked.

“Excuse me.” The creature whose laps he’s in reminds him of the pictures of Mothman scattered around his home state, “but this seat is taken.”

“Yeah, by me, because I saw it first.”

A click from inside the mothmans chest, “You are wrong. I saw it first, and did not foresee anyone being rude enough to use me in its place.”

Every other seat is filled, and it’s a fifteen minute ride to the Starliner. Duck crosses his arms, “you don’t wanna be a seat, you better get up.”

That earns him an annoyed chirr, “Not a chance.”

The shuttle ride is smooth, but his seat keeps prodding him with a clawed finger whenever he puts his weight on it. When they arrive, the two of them stand one after the other. The mothman shakes out his feathers, tosses a glare over his shoulder, and steps through the doors.

Unsurprisingly, the Sylvain Dream makes opulence seem subdued. There are rare flowers studding the fountain by the concierge desk, art from across the universe on the walls, and a sound dampening, shimmering carpet lining the hall to his room. He’s looking forward to some alone time; while all the suites at this level are technically two person, they’re so expensive that most travelers get their own rooms.

He keys open the door and comes face to chest with the same fucking alien from the shuttle.

“Ah. So we are in this timeline. Lovely.” The mothman says dryly, passing him to greet the bellhop who just finished scurrying up the stairs, “I see you have a message from minister Woodbridge. Kindly have someone reply and tell him that if it’s an emergency, they may contact me directly, but if the matter is anything else, they are to leave me in peace during my journey.”

“Yes, Seer Cold.”

“Thank you.” the seer drops a coin into his hand and brushes past Duck without another word.

Duck finally makes it past the entryway and gasps; when the people paying for his journey asked if he’d prefer forest, city, beach, or desert, he assumed it was some sort of vague theme. Instead, the carpet is lush, soft grass, there are flowers everywhere, and the furniture is all made to be woodsy and rustic. The bath and shower are like a mini water-fall and pool, his bed housed in a mock cabin.

“This is amazing.”

“If you are here purely for a leisure trip.” His suite-mate crosses both sets of arms, “some of us are being transported back to work.”

“Now look, this is a work trip for me too. You gotta admit this is pretty swank.”

“And an attempt to soften the blow.” Mothman mutters.

Duck rolls his eyes, decides this is not his problem to deal with, and goes to unpack for the month-long journey ahead.

-----------------------------------------------------

For the first two days he and Indrid--which is what the aloof, perpetually touchy Sylph likes to be called--do their best to ignore each other. They’re stuck on the same dining schedule, which means Duck accidentally insults the alien by giggling when he sees him lick his dessert up with an absurdly long tongue. He makes it up to the next night by saving the pineapple soda delivered in their lunch basket for the Sylph.

On day three, he’s reading by the holo-fire pit when a white badge with blue writing dangles before him.

“Would you like to accompany me to the spa?”

“Uh….”

“Since I foresee you asking no, we do not have to spend the entire time together.”

“I, uh, I was gonna say sure, but was wonderin’ why you offered it to me.”

“Oh.” His antenna flick in a new way, “I, ah, they gave me two. I have no one else to go with and it seemed silly to let it go to waste.”

“I gotta wear anything special?”

“Since humans require clothes in all but a few scenarios, I suggest wearing your robe.”

The spa is just as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with cushy chairs and complimentary booze. The secretary hands them each a menu of treatments bigger than any Duck’s held at a restaurant.

“Sugar scrub….talon wax….rock massage. Do they mean hot rocks?”

“No, that treatment helps those with scales shed.”

“Huh.” Duck pokes his tongue in his cheek, “wish they said which of these were safe for, uh, squishy human bodies.”

Indrid reaches out a claw, tapping several on the list, “This ful massage would be good; you’re muscular, it will be nice to have those muscles tended to.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. Have been workin out more, nice to have someone else notice.”

The Sylph smiles, “you may also like the hair luxury add-on; I’ve always thought humans with salt and pepper hair should show it off.”

Before Duck can ask how Indrid developed that opinion or learned that slang, they’re ushered off into separate rooms. He’s scrubbed and rubbed until his body surrenders the last of it’s stress, the oils they rub on his skin and into his hair smelling pleasantly of pine and cedar. His session ends with one of the staff leading him to a small room covered in deep green marble, where he can rinse and dry off in his own time.

Indrid is in the same room, reclining in a chair with a sun lamp on his wings. They’ve been groomed, the feather straighter and smoother than this morning. Duck takes his first real look at them, notices how the black is iridescent and that there are two bands of deep grey on the inside close to Indrid’s torso.

He’s really quite stunning.

“I feel” Indrid murmurs, “as if we got off to a bad start.”

“You think?” Duck aims for a genial tone.

Indrid cocks his head, “Yes. That is why I said it. I, ah, I ought to apologize for my temperament over the last few days. I am so very fond of earth, of humans, and I’d hoped to be able to work there indefinitely. But Sylvain is in crisis, and so they need me near. Never mind that we have the capability to transmit messages quickly between planets.”

“What’s the crisis?”

“Our plants are dying or failing to produce the resources we need. The belief is that-”

“-it’s a leftover contamination or mutation from the earth plants that crossed through the gate before it was destroyed.”

Indrid blinks, then grins, “it is novel to be the one having their sentences finished. Yes, Duck Newton; the gate has been gone for over two hundred years, but both our worlds will feel it’s effects for many more years.” His antenna perk up, “you’re the one they’re bringing on to consult.”

“Yep. That’s why they gave me such a sweet deal on the trip; they know it’s gonna be fuckin exhaustin work. Even with all the other perks they’re offerin, I know a lot of folks didn’t wanna apply.”

“Why did you feel differently?”

He pushes to the other side of the little pool so they can be closer, “I spent my whole life in the town I grew up in. I love what I do, I love helpin forests stay healthy and regrow and I...I dunno, how often do you get the chance to go to space and see forests on another planet?”

“Once, if you are me.” Indrid closes his wings, clicks off the light, and offers Duck a hand, “and I am glad you will have the chance to do the same.”

-----------------------------------------------

“You know” Indrid passes Duck the plate of toast, “I am named for Sylph who was the second most recent seer after myself. He and I are the same kind of Sylph, and when my parents learned their mothling-to-be was the next seer, they decided I would be Indrid Cold.”

“Not gonna lie, people actin like your fate is set in stone from birth gives me the creeps.”

“Understandable. I would not admit this to the other ministers, but I am no longer content with reporting on the futures. I try to change fate when I can. In this way, I am also like the first Indrid Cold. He kept trying to intervene in disasters; that’s how he got seen when he should not have been.”

“Holy fuck, there really was a mothman!”

“Indeed. I also learned from his personal notes that he was so fond of humans, he ended up marrying one.”

“Damn” Duck passes him the sweetener for his tea, teases, “you share that habit too?”

Red eyes linger a moment too long on his body before Indrid grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

----------------------------------------------

“You sure you don’t wanna swim?” Duck treads water in the green lagoon of some distant moon. The cruise is docked for an activity day, Duck having selected to spend it snorkeling and Indrid deciding to spend it with Duck.

“The wings are not built for it. Though the water does look pleasant.” Indrid lazily sifts black sand through his claws.

“You could wade in. It stays pretty shallow there” he points to a sand bar.

“If I get in over my head, will you come to my aid?”

“You know it.”

Indrid wades in, chirping as the waves hit his knees. When Duck next glances at him, Indrid is glancing right back. He’s smiling, soft and secretive.

“I am glad you picked this spot. The view is spectacular.”

-----------------------------------------------

They’ve hit turbulence a handful of times, all of which pale in comparison to the jolt that sends him tumbling out of bed. There are stabilizer controls to lighten the gravity in the room so they won’t feel the bumps as badly. But when he wobbles over, he finds it’s already up to the lowest it can be without him floating.

He stumbles to the window, the curtains shut against the vast universe. Is turbulence this severe normal? If the gravity doohickey isn’t able to help, maybe that means they’ve never hit a storm this bad.

Opening the window is a terrible idea; there’s no cause of the turbulence to be seen, and now he’s in a dark room staring into the depths of space, it’s so big, he’s so small, they all are, the forces of nature still have it in them to crack this ship like an egg, killing them all.

“Would it help if I said there are no futures where this storm poses a threat to us?” Indrid whispers from behind him.

“Kinda.”

“Would it help to see something breathtaking?”

“Wh-”

Indrid taps the glass, drawing Ducks attention to two massive, starry shapes, “Celestial whales. At least that’s the human name for them.”

“Holy fuck.” They remind Duck of Whale Sharks, but impossibly bigger, skin coated in thousands of star-spots, “how can they do that? I mean, obviously they ain’t mammals, but fuckin nothin thrives in deep space.”

“No one is certain.” Indrid sighs, happily, “isn’t it wonderful to know there are such things in the universe?”

“Yeah. AHfuck” He hits the wall as the whole ship shudders, “fuck, sorry-”

“It’s alright. It can be alarming when you’re on your first trip through the cosmos. I, ah, I have something that may help, if you’re alright with me touching you some.”

“Fine by me.” Duck follows Indrid to the Sylph’s bed. The seer sits cross-legged with his back against the wall and instructs Duck to rest his head in his lap. The points of his claws begin rubbing his neck and the base of his skull, Indrid humming at a low, steady pitch until Duck’s eyes start to close.

The pressure points are helping, he can tell by his loosening spine. But what soothes him to sleep is the repetitive reminder of Indrid there with him in the dark.

When he wakes up the storm is gone. His body is still moving, rising and falling in time with Indrid’s breath as he sleeps. He pulled Duck atop him in the night, and at some point must have wrapped him in his wings, since once, is still half-flopped on Duck’s back.

Seized with affection, Duck kisses his shoulder. When this earns him a happy chirp, he does it again, then kisses a cheerful path up to Indrid’s cheek. Red eyes open, sleepy and full of tenderness, just in time for the Sylph to turn his head and kiss Duck properly.

“What a lovely thing to awaken to.”

“No kiddin” Duck kisses him again, “fuck, Indrid, this is the weirdest goddamn thing to ever happen to me and I’m thinkin it might also be the best.”

Indrid hugs him close, “We shall have ample time to find out, if you wish to do so.”

“Hell yeah. But we only got a few days before we hit Sylvain.”

“Yes” Indrid kisses his nose, “but I happen to foresee Woodbridge ignoring my request for peace and sending me a message saying I will be working closely with a certain, visiting forestry expert.”

#indrid cold/ duck newton #indruck #taz amnesty #meet ugly #reader request

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sope-and-shine · 3 years

Text

The Right of a King: Pt. 1

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 15.1k -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, Namjoon is kind of a jerk but he gets better...kinda, also a bit of a misogynist, technology abuse RIP the museum equipment, Jimin IS that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money - but will anyone complain? no.

A/N: This whole fic is a BEAST i sWEAR! I am however really excited to share this fic with everyone! This was originally for a collab that never got to happen -RIP - but I liked the idea too much to just throw her away!

I do want to give a huge shout out to @sakuraguks-main for beta reading this as well as my squad for their constant encouragement throughout the writing process.

Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to writing part 2

Masterlist

* * *

“Just the lunch box and the banana milk this time?”

“Uh…” You look up from your wallet to view your items on the counter. It was just one prepackaged lunch and a few banana milks, much less than you usually buy on your routine dinner stop. You don’t want to buy too much, but you’d need something for later in the morning too.

You settle for grabbing a few bags of chips off the rack next to you and set them on the counter, “I’ll take those too.”

He nods and rings them up, bagging them while you pay with your card. He grabs your receipt and tucks it in the bag, handing them to you as you slide your wallet back into your bag, “Have a good evening, (Y/n)!”

You nod, “Thank you! See you tomorrow, Gyu!” You wave to him as you exit the convenience store and step back into the bustling city.

Stopping for food is always a must for you before every shift with it being smack in the middle of your route. If you were to spend 10:00p.m. to 8a.m. by yourself with no food, you would probably go insane. It wasn’t like you couldn’t bring them from home, but it was much more convenient to stop on your way there. Occasionally, you’ll attempt to pull back on your snack intake, but Gyu never makes it easy on you when you do. He just makes it another typical day for you.

Wake up at 2:30, take a shower, do your school work, get ready for work, leave the house, stop to buy food from Gyu, and then arrive at the grand entrance to the Seoul Museum of History and Art.

The building itself is 4 stories high - not including the lower level storage it sits on top of - and 1 city block in length and width. It’s exterior is grand and extravagant with 3 large pillars that encase the 4 doorways that lead into the lobby. A large staircase greets you at the sidewalk, flower beds decorating the front along the brick railing on either side of the stairs. You never take the stairs on your way in, choosing to take the ramp hidden in the flowers up to the entrance instead. You’d have enough problems walking around the entire museum, adding more stairs to the mix would only ruin your mood.

Thankfully, Jin is always there to greet you on your way in. He never fails to brighten your day when you see him. Dressed sharp in a white button down tucked into fitted black dress pants with a grey suit jacket on top, he stands with his hands together in front of him and a large welcoming smile. His hair is parted just off center, not losing shape even as he nods to the patron in front of him.

You wait for him to finish his conversation before you greet him, “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Worldwide Handsome himself.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Jin chuckles. He lets his shoulders relax, moving his neck from side to side before looking at his watch. He looks impressed, “Wow, you’re earlier than usual.”

You shrug, “Yeah, Hoseok said he needed to talk to me about the exhibit pieces that are coming in.”

“Say no more,” Jin raises his hands in front of him and shakes his head, “I’ve heard all I need to.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” You laugh. You shake your head and sigh, “I should get going so I can get ready to clear the last minute rush.”

“Don’t work too hard, night guard.” He gives you a mock salute and you turn away, waving goodbye to him as you continue down the corridor into a sea of people.

Most people would think a museum wouldn’t be so popular, but your crowds never seemed to dwindle. You suppose you’d have Yoongi to thank for that. He ran the museum so smoothly it was almost like clockwork. Doors opened at 9 and they closed at 9, new exhibits rotate in and out every 7 ½ months to the day, and employees were put through severe background checks and training just to make sure they’d be competent enough to work in his museum. Everyone that works in the museum was handpicked by Yoongi himself, and everyone chosen contributes everything they have to be here.

You pass by the gift shop, spying Jimin at the counter helping a few kids pick out candies. He notices you passing and smiles, giving you a quick wave that you return before he gives his attention to the children in front of him.

You continue on down the hall, passing the cafe and the restrooms. The walls begin to lose their decor the farther you go, becoming planer and planer until you reach the break room doors.

“He was like, ‘do you think toys for cavemen were any different from present day? Like that shit must be wild bro’ and then they all started laughing at me when I said they didn’t have a Toys R Us, so yeah, they were different from now.” Jeongguk says as you enter the room. His impeccable timing for ‘strange conversation’ never ceases to amaze you every time you walk through the door.

Jeongguk’s a great guy, always very respectful and eager to learn more, but he’s been working as a tour guide in the museum for about a year now and he still hasn’t seemed to pick up on anything. You’re pretty sure Yoongi only hired him to keep the single ladies coming back. It was hard to correct someone with such a cute, bunny smile and such remarkable enthusiasm in the work place.

“Do you think it was an inside joke?” He proceeds to ask, his attention trained on Johnny who stands at the locker to the right of yours.

The man in question can’t stop himself from giving the younger a disappointed frown, “Dude...you’re the joke…”

Jeongguk tilts his head in confusion and you jump into the conversation, “I’m sure they’re just being teenagers, Guk. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” You turn to briefly glare at your locker mate as you open it, turning your frown into a smile when you face Jeongguk again, “Tomorrow is another day!”

“You’re right!” He closes his locker and throws his bag over his shoulder, his confidence already returning, “I’ll learn everything I can about cavemen toys and come back tomorrow prepared to tell all of my tours about them!”

He leaves before you can say anything back, off to do whatever it is he usually does after work. You don’t mind though, it’s a little hard to understand the college sophomore anyways. At least with him leaving you can relax before your shift starts.

Johnny sighs next to you, “You mother him too much.”

“I don’t mother him. I just don’t want to explain to him what they’re actually talking about.” You argue, placing your bags on the hooks in your locker. You take off your overcoat and replace it with your black security jacket, fixing the collar, “Besides, he’ll figure it out by this weekend and then he won’t make eye contact with either one of us for the next week.”

“Whatever you say.” He pulls out a lint roller and hands it to you before closing his locker, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Waving behind you with the roller in hand, you say, “Have a good night!” You hear the door open and close behind you, leaving you alone in the room to sort yourself out.

You make quick work to de-lint your black work pants, setting the roller at the top of your locker. Then you take the bags you set down and pull them over to the table at the center of the room, leaving your locker open while you take out your food to be refrigerated. When you have everything you need, you place the leftover snacks back on the hook and shut the door.

The door opens on your way to the fridge, Hoseok walking in with a folder in his hands. He looks up from whatever he’s reading and his eyes widen in surprise, “You’re here!”

You open the fridge, “Yeah, you told me to come in a little early.” You set your bag on the top shelf, close the door, and turn to him, “You wanted to talk to me about tomorrow?”

“Right.” He approaches the table and sets his stuff down, sorting through a few papers before he pulls one from his stack. He extends it to you, “This is all the information about who we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. It has times, names, and a manifest.”

“Everything is the same from the texts you sent me, right?” You ask, eyes skimming over the sheet for anything new.

“Yes! Each artifact was individually packed, so we should only have 12 new pieces coming in tomorrow.”

“Okay, so we just need to keep an eye on what they bring in.” You say, more to yourself than to him. You take a moment to let the information sink in, nodding in understanding when you’re sure you have it all down. You look back up to Hoseok who’s already discarding his security jacket, “Did you have any luck on new night guard help?”

“Ah-...no,” Hoseok sets his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him. He’d been searching for new help ever since Chanyeol left, leaving you to run the night shift alone. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t ideal for a museum in the middle of the city. You knew that and so did Hoseok. “I’ve been working on it, but it’s been hard with the new arrivals. Besides, you know how Yoongi is when he’s hiring new employees.”

You nod, knowing exactly how anal the museum director could truly be, “Yeah, I know. Just keep me updated though?”

You don’t really mind working by yourself, but you could only go so many days without a single day off. Thankfully, Hoseok was understanding of this, “I will! I’ll work something out, I promise!”

“Thank you,” You smile. You grab your bag off the table and hoist it over your shoulder, “I’m gonna go clock in and see about ushering the night crowd out.”

“Hyuk should be starting on level 1.” He informs you.

“I’ll take level 4 then.” You bid Hoseok goodbye and head across the hall to the security room, setting your stuff down in your chair and clocking in at the main computer. You take a moment to check the camera’s, looking for the most populated areas to look out for and which exhibits you could close as you go through.

This was something you did everyday. You’d find the unpopulated areas first so you could sweep the rooms and lock the exhibits behind you. One by one, you make sure to clear the floor before you move to the next level.

The third level is much busier than the other levels, having had the most change to it’s layout since the new exhibit was brought in 2 weeks prior. Families make their way to the stairs while couples try to catch one last look at exhibits they missed in favor for another.

Walking into the Ancient Dynasties Exhibit, you nod to the partons that you pass on their way out, stopping by the occasional straggler to let them know it’s time to go. You rarely ever have problems with getting someone to leave - maybe once or twice you’ve had to get physical with someone or call the police to escort them out of the museum - but the number of times is so small you could count them on one hand. There’s only one person you have to repeatedly kick out of the exhibit, and he’s worse than any patron you’ve ever dealt with.

“Taehyung, I need you to leave.” You tell him, approaching him from behind. His green, 3 piece suit is only slightly wrinkled from his work throughout the day, his jacket discarded and set off to his side.

The bubbly curator turns his head over his shoulder, dirty blonde locks still kept in a perfect side-sweep thanks to his “very essential” hair gel. His smile is almost a tease as he says, “Just a few more minutes.”

You cross your arms and sigh, “I’m counting.”

The saying “Just a few more minutes” has lost all meaning with Taehyung. You haven’t believed him since your third day of working together. He’s never been good at leaving his exhibits, wanting to take pride in his work. Despite having the ability to take pictures of the area as it’s curator, he insists on committing them all to memory. In hindsight, it’s very endearing. However, his wants tend to put you behind your own schedule.

He turns back around and you take a seat next to him on the bench. You take an obligatory look around the section he sits in, glancing over each artifact that decorates the walls. From tapestries or writing displays that hang on the walls, to small podiums with items far more fragile encased in glass. In front of you - roped off and on a placed on a small stage - is a large sarcophagus covered in gold with two lit candle placed beside it. Behind it is a wall of flowers, all apparently favorites from when the King was alive.

“Have I told you about Namjoon hyung?” He asks, referencing the mummy in front of you.

King Kim Namjoon of the Kim Dynasty. The only king of Korea to be mummified. Of all the exhibits you’ve been through with Taehyung, this one was his favorite. You could really say he’s obsessed with the dead King! Even with 6 more exhibits to his name. Taehyung spent almost all of his time in this section.

“I think I could talk about this guy in my sleep!” You laugh, nudging his side playfully, “And should you really be calling him ‘hyung’? If anything, he’s an ‘ahjussi’ to you.”

“Yes, but I know so much about him that he feels like a hyung to me!” He argues with a certain admiration in his eyes, “I’ve spent years waiting for this moment to have him in one of my exhibits, and now he’s right at my fingertips!”

He really isn’t exaggerating either. Before the king arrived, Taehyung would show you continuous updates about his uncovering and the updates on how his body was kept. The day his exhibit was approved, you thought he was going to explode. Of all the curators and all of the possible museums, he got King Namjoon. Anyone who didn’t know would’ve thought he won the lottery. In a way, he did.

“His exhibit here is a permanent one, Tae. He’s not going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry about him leaving anytime soon.” You assure him, placing a hand on his arm. Your smile turns into a grin, “What I am worried about is you leaving soon. Get out of my museum before I go find Yoongi.”

“I’m not afraid of Yoongi.” You raise an eyebrow at him and his shoulders drop, “Okay, so maybe I’m terrified of Yoongi, but that’s not important right now!”

You give his shoulder a light nudge, “Go home, Taehyung. The rest of your hyung will be here tomorrow.” You tease.

He sighs and leans his head back, “You say that like he didn’t arrive all put together. He’s a mummy, not Frankenstein.”

You hit his arm, “Get out of here.”

“Okay!” He stands up and turns to you with a boxy grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t work too hard.”

“I never do.” You wave him off, watching him saunter out of the exhibit with a little jump in his step. Even after 14 hours on the clock of rounding the museum to look at his works, he’s still running like he just woke up. Some days you wish you could be as happy with your job as Taehyung is, but how many people truly loved working the night shift in a dark, quiet museum?

* * *

“Alright, let’s make this fast and efficient everyone!” Yoongi barks, walking up to the loading dock where you and Hoseok stand on opposite sides of the doors. He eyes the unloading crew unlocking the truck and sends them a warning glare, “It’s a full moon tonight, and I will not be out at 3am like last time.”

“You need to relax, Yoongi,” Hoseok warns him, still standing across from you, “It’s just a few small pieces and then we’ll be out of here before your ‘witching hour’ is here.”

Hoseok wiggles his fingers for a “spooky emphasis” and you stifle a chuckle. Yoongi is not as amused, “Laugh all you want, but at least I won’t be dead.”

“Is that a threat? Can I file an HR complaint?” Hoseok asks.

Yoongi sighs, “Just do your job while they unload so we can leave.”

You offer a teasing grin and a nod, “Yes sir~”

Yoongi walks away and Taehyung replaces him, standing next to you instead of in the way of the workers. He rolls back and forth on his feet, watching happily as if he were a child at Christmas.

“Did I tell you what’s coming today?” He asks.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure you may have mentioned it here or there.”

Of course, you know what was coming in. Your job is to protect it with your life. Hoseok gave you the run down via text on your last 5 shifts and again today as soon as you walked through the doors. More paintings, a chair, a dusty old book, and the shining jewel of the King’s tomb.

“His lover’s necklace!” Taehyung beams, “According to what we know, this necklace was used by the King to find his soulmate. We believe that because he didn’t take a queen, he never found his other half.”

You shrug, “Maybe he wasn’t really looking.”

“Maybe...maybe not. Most historians believe he mummified himself so when fate brings his soulmate to him, he’d wake again and they’d spend eternity together.” He turns to you and flicks your forehead, “You would know if you actually paid attention to me.”

You push him back, “Well, excuse me if I can’t listen to you talk about his majesty for more than 10 minutes a week.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns back to the movers. His annoyance quickly turns to excitement as he catches sight on the last box being carried in, “Is that the necklace?”

“Uh…” The man carrying the box looks at the label on the side, nodding to Taehyung in confirmation, “Yes sir.”

“Oh! Follow me!” Taehyung grabs your arm and pulls you after him. You turn your head back to Hoseok for help but he’s already waving you off while he closes the loading doors. You both follow the crew member to the table where a few other small items are being opened already, waiting long enough for the man to open the box for you. You can’t see the inside of the crate with Taehyung in your way, but he gets the first look at whatever dingy piece of jewelry is inside. He flails in excitement, “Look at this!”

Taehyung rushes forward, pushing the man helping him out of the way to reach into the box. When he turns around, he holds a smaller box in his hand, “It’s right here!”

“That’s another box…” You point out, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“It’s not just another box!” He argues. He undoes the latch and pulls the lid back towards him, revealing the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. A delicate string of silver stones bedazzled with small fuschia gems all laced together with a golden band weaving under and over. It glistens in the shine of the storage room work lights, drawing you in with every hypnotizing twinkle.

Taehyung smiles knowingly, enjoying your sudden engrossment in the artifact, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

You nod, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch the delicate jewel. It takes a surprising amount of restraint from you just to pull away, “It’s definitely pretty.”

Yoongi claps his hands from the table beside you, “Let’s get these up to the Ancient Dynasties exhibit and in their places so we can get out of here.”

Everyone takes a box and begins to move upstairs, you and Hoseok helping the men with the old chair to ensure it doesn’t get stuck on anything. With the few items left to be brought into the exhibit, it didn’t take long at all for everything to be settled into their rightful places.

“Perfect! It’s all perfect!” Taehyung cheers, clapping his hands and squeezing them together. His excitement for this event was unmatched, and you know that in the morning when you see him next, he’ll be bouncing up and down just as he is now.

Hoseok nods to you, “Let’s lock them up.”

“Right.” You pull out your keyring and begin the process of going case to case while Hoseok sets their alarms after you. You make it all the way around the room until you stand in front of the necklace again. It’s beauty draws you in, having never seen something like this before. Many would think it too bulky and busy for someone to wear everyday, but a part of you could see it’s appeal.

A part of you wouldn’t mind wearing it at all.

Taehyung walks over to where you stand locking the cases and audibly gasps behind you, “Fix it!”

You jump, “Fix what?”

“The necklace! It’s not straight!” He points at the case and you turn your attention back to the object beneath the glass. Staring at with a clearer mind, it is indeed tilted just slightly to the left. If you were to just glance at it, you probably would have never noticed. But nothing could get past a perfectionist like Taehyung, “We have to fix it now!”

“Okay!” To appease the overly attentive curator, you unlock the case and adjust the necklace yourself. You pull the delicate string of stone and gem into place, locking it back up when you’re done. It glimmers in the corner of your eye as you turn back to Taehyung, “Better?”

He grins, knowing fully well that you’re more than annoyed with him, “Perfect.”

“Alright, now that we’re all done, everyone needs to leave so I can go home.” Yoongi announces.

Hoseok chuckles, “You really don’t want to be up past midnight do you?”

“I don’t care about being up past midnight. I don’t want to be out past midnight.” The older man grumbles, most likely cursing the other in the back of his mind, “There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Hoseok teases, making Yoongi glare at him even harder than before. He turns to the movers and waves for them to follow him, “Gentlemen, let me show you back to your truck. We wouldn’t want the grump over here to bite your head off.”

The group follows after Hoseok and so does Yoongi, “You’re so lucky you’re my friend, Hoseok, or I would fire you so fast.”

Hoseok only laughs at his loose threat, “Well, if you’d like to take the bus then be my guest.”

They all leave the exhibit and you turn to Taehyung who still stands in front of the case admiring the necklace inside, “So, I’ll see you early tomorrow, Tae?”

He turns back to you and gives you a large, reassuring smile, “Bright and early.”

“Go and get some rest for your big day then.” You say, placing a hand on his back and nudging him towards the door.

You watch him leave the exhibit, laughing at the way he dances to the music playing in his head. You take the responsibility of closing the gate, glancing over the exhibits contents between the bars before following Taehyung yourself. You say goodbye to Yoongi and Hoseok at the front door, ensuring the door gets locked behind them before getting to your own duties that were halted because of the shipment.

---

It’s later in the evening when you finally get to make your rounds through the empty halls of the museum. You’d checked every camera in the building twice, filling out your night paperwork as well as the visitor log for Hoseok to look over in the morning as you went. All you really had to do was roam the halls every now and then, keeping an eye on the monitors for anything suspicious.

The night shift was never quite as tiring as the day shift. Your interaction with patrons or real people was always far below what Hoseok and the dayshift would have to deal with - that was part of the reason you chose to take over the night shift. It was a bit more time consuming with just you, but hopefully Hoseok will find someone to replace Chanyeol before the New Year.

You hear a faint bang down the corridor and you pause. You’ve heard bumps like this before, mostly when it would rain and the tree by the ramp outside would hit the window. Rain wasn’t on the forecast for the evening, but that had never stopped it before. Not so easily scared, you continue on down the hall, stopping at the end of the hall when you hear it again.

“What the fuck…?” You say to yourself, a slight shake in your voice. The bang sounds again and you reach for your flashlight, it being the only protection against intruders.

In the three years you’ve worked as a security guard, you’ve never had a break in. Even before you, there had never once been an attempt by anyone to steal anything. In reality, the alarms should’ve gone off by now if someone had made their way into the museum. That meant that someone was smart enough to get past the security system, or you were going crazy.

You really hope you’re going crazy.

You make your way down the hallway, following the bumps and bangs into the Ancient Dynasties exhibit. The gate is locked - it hasn’t been unlocked since you left the room at midnight - but the noise isn’t one easily mistaken.

Against your better judgement you unlock the gate, stepping in and leaving the gate cracked behind you. If you needed a quick escape, then you wanted to be able to yank it closed as well. The noises cease as soon as you’re completely past the gate, sending an ominous chill up your spine. At a glance, nothing in the room seems out of place. Nothing looks to have been moved or damaged, but that does little to settle your unease.

“This is normal...everything is normal.” You say to yourself, trying to trick yourself into having the courage to move forward.

You spot the necklace in it’s spot close to the sarcophagus. It’s glass remains intact, just like every other item within the exhibit’s walls. It would make sense for someone to come after it considering it’s value, yet there it remains untouched.

“So where did the banging come fr-Agh!” You scream as the sarcophagus lid bursts open, falling to the floor in front of it and ripping the ropes connected to the wall right out.

Inside the now open casket, the ancient king covered in tattered, dusty cloth rolls his head. You can see his mouth move from underneath the dirt as he yawns. His arms raise to stretch in front of him, the mummy taking one step out of his box.

You can only stand in shock as you watch what happens in front of you. You had to be dreaming. There was no way you were actually awake witnessing a dead king coming to life in front of you. This had to be some sort of sick joke from Yoongi for calling him short. Maybe Johnny for calling him out in front of that group of fourth graders. Someone has to be messing with you.

The mummy turns his head to you and your breath hitches. You’ve never wanted to have seen The Mummy so much in one moment than this one, wishing you knew what exactly to do in this situation. You wish your feet would move, but they’re planted so firmly to the ground that they feel more like cement than limbs.

The monster before you takes a step in your direction, and you scream. You will yourself to move back, but you can’t stop yourself from stumbling over your own feet. You trip and land on your bottom, your body not even registering the pain as you attempt to scoot back away from the danger that continues to follow after you.

Every step he takes is another scream that releases from your lungs, your fear getting the best of you. It isn’t until your back hits the large display case that helps to divide the room that you realize you have nowhere else to go. You turn your head away, preparing yourself for whatever is about to come.

But nothing does.

You take a peek at the tall being before you and notice that he’s stopped moving, towering over your cowering form with his head tilted. His mouth opens and sounds come out, but his speech is muffled by the bandages. He seems to realize this though as his bandaged hands fly to his face.

You watch him pat around his face and neck until he finds a loose cloth, pulling it out and beginning the process of unwrapping his face. You watch in horror, unsure if the image before you will haunt you forever or not. To see what’s left of a 1,000 year old decomposed body that’s been “preserved” was something you never thought you would ever have to bear witness to. Hopefully, your therapist for this experience will understand.

If you get that far.

However, you weren’t expecting to see a full head of healthy brown hair appear as he went, nor did you expect to see healthy, tanned skin be freed from the confines as well. Brown eyes meet yours and a smile is uncovered, “Hello.”

“Hi...” You blink rapidly, hoping if you do it enough times your vision will clear, but the man in front of you still half-covered in gauze doesn’t disappear. You shake your head, “Am I awake?”

“You are as awake as I am.” He says with a pleasant smile.

“That’s not a very reassuring answer...” You can’t help but stare at him in awe and wonder just how this was happening. Of course, Taehyung had told you countless times about this supposed curse or whatever it was, but you thought it was all just a hoax your ancestors believed in. There is no possible way that you are actually awake and experiencing reincarnation or rebirth or whatever this is firsthand.

“Ow!” You feel a pinch on your calf, pulling you from your thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Or more specifically, the person before you.

“Well, did you feel that?” He asks. In your dazed state, you hadn’t noticed the man bend to your level and reach out to pinch you with rag covered fingers. The dust and mold leave a stain on your work pants and you can’t help but frown in disgust, “Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately I did.”

“You must be frightened and confused. Allow me to introduce myself-” He bows his head to you from where he kneels on the floor, “-I am King Kim Namjoon of Korea.” He looks back up and smiles bright, showcasing his dimples, “It is my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

You tilt your head in confusion at his choice of words, “I’m sorry, you’ve been waiting for me? I don’t understand.”

“Are you not aware of our bond?” He asks, tilting his own head to the side.

Of course you know about his bond, it’s all that Taehyung has ever told you about! His necklace was gifted by the moon goddess so that when his soulmate touches it, he’ll wake up and they’l-

It takes you a moment to realize that he believes you to be his long lost soulmate, and you’re ready to spiral into another frenzy when you do, “No…”

Soulmates aren’t real. Nobody just walks around and bumps into their soulmate on the street. They don’t hear their voice in the back of their heads. They don’t wait over 1,000 years to be matched with a fucking dead guy.

“No.” You repeat, more confident in yourself.

“I understand you may be confused as to what this all must mean, but I’ll explain it to you-” Namjoon tries to reach out to you again, but you’re quick to push him away this time.

You stand from the floor in a rush and take two steps towards the center of the room where the two display cases separate and show a clear path to the exhibit’s only exit, “No, you won’t. Please return to your box.”

He stands up after you but stops when he sees you step back again, “But we’re destined to be together!”

“Destiny isn’t real! This-” You gesture with both hands from you to him, “-isn’t real!”

“Our bond is as real as you and I!” He argues. You can feel the want and passion dripping from his voice. It isn’t hard to tell how much he truly believes you’re his soulmate, but he’s dead wrong - no pun intended. “I’ve spent so long waiting for you.”

“Nope.” It didn’t matter how many times he flashes you that lovestruck look. Soulmates weren’t real, and whatever is going on in front of you isn’t real either, “This isn’t happening.” You turn away from him, resorting to pacing out your frustrations instead of voicing them.

Namjoon watches you with a disappointed frown and slumped shoulders, “Well, this isn’t how this was supposed to happen.” He mumbles.

You attempt to calm your breathing, pleading with your rationale to find some way - any way - to explain what’s happening. The whole interaction felt like a crazy fever dream that manifested on the worst day of a cold. They’re always weird, but they’re never this realistic.

You turn back around to address the not-so-dead king and yelp when you see him pulling at his wrap, “What are you doing?!” You ask as he tugs and pulls at the rotten fabric.

Namjoon looks up, pausing his ministrations to give you an answer, “I’m removing these incessant wrappings.”

He returns to his unwrapping, leaving you to watch him as he goes. He wasn’t naked - thankfully - but you weren’t prepared for him to immediately unwrap himself. In all honesty, you wanted him to wrap himself back up and return to his box. Fortunately for you, under his wrappings he wears a loose white shirt and loose tan pants, his shoes long forgotten.

When he finally frees himself, he takes a moment to look around the room. His gaze trails over the walls, “What is this place? Why are we not in my tomb?”

“You’re in a museum.” You explain, watching closely to gauge his reaction. In a way, he wasn’t really that old in retrospect, but you doubt he’d seen a museum before.

He turns to look at you, just as confused as you expected him to be, “What is that?”

You shrug, “It’s a place where people go to see old things and art.”

Namjoon breaks into a smile, a red tint coloring his cheeks, “I wouldn’t say I’m art.”

“I didn’t.” You say, causing Namjoon’s face to drop just the slightest.

He’s quick to mask his disappointment with a polite smile. Turning to the side of the case he stands on, he looks back to the exhibit around him. He looks up and his eyes trail over the lights above him, “What dynasty is this?” He asks.

“Uh...the capitalist dynasty?” You reply, unsure of what you would call this era of time. Namjoon looks confused and you sigh, “You’re in the 21st century.”

“Fascinating…” He takes a long look over the glass case a few feet in front of him - the one that holds the crown made for his queen - before he moves forward, reaches out, and swipes a hand over top of it, collecting a thin sheen of dust on his fingertips.

“Don’t do that!” You rush forward and grab his wrist, pulling it away in fear of the alarm going off. Anybody who even got too close to it should set it off, yet no siren wails at his touch. The alarms had been set by Hoseok himself, so they have to be broken if neither of you were setting it off, “What…?”

“Can I have my arm back, or is this a new rude custom I’m unaware of?” Namjoon asks, staring at the place on his wrist your hand holds hostage.

“No, just-...” You release his arm and take a breath as a poor attempt to remain calm, “-just don’t touch anything.”

“We’ll need to touch the case to get your necklace so we can return to my home together.” He says as if what he suggested was completely normal for him.

You’re once again taken aback by his words, unsure if you heard him correctly or not, “I’m sorry?” You ask.

“We’re soulmates,” He explains, “It’s only natural for you to come live with me, so we can spend our days together.”

“We will not be going anywhere together!” You tell him. You step forward and grab him by the shoulders, turning him around so he faces his sarcophagus. You attempt to push him, “You will be staying here in your box, and you’re going to go back to sleep.”

Namjoon fights against your attempts, digging his feet into the hardwood floor beneath him. He scowls at the realization of what you’re trying to do, “Did you not hear what I said earlier? You are my destined lover. That’s how this is supposed to work!”

“And I told you that destiny isn’t real!” You argue, now using your shoulder to push all of your weight against him.

Namjoon turns to face you, causing you to lose your balance and fall forward. Namjoon grabs your arms before you can fall to the floor, using this opportunity to hold you close, “Is my life not enough proof for you?”

Dark brown eyes bore into your own, his sincerity written all over his features. You can tell he’s hurt, but you can’t help but continue to fight against him, “I don’t know! I’m still trying to process everything that’s happening right now!”

“As soon as we leave, I will explain everything to you in much greater detail.” He says, now offering a smile. However, leaving with him is the last thing you wish to do.

You push away from him and take a few steps back towards the exhibit's entrance, “We are not leaving.”

“I am a king, I have wealth beyond your wildest dreams! I can take care of you and it is my job to do so.” He reaches out and takes you by your wrist, “We’re going!”

“I don’t even know you!” You yell, pulling your arm away from him once more and stepping closer towards the exit behind you.

Namjoon looks annoyed, but he takes a deep breath before he continues to try and pursued you, “Why don’t you allow us to get to know each other then? At least tell me your name.”

“Just-” You pause, unsure of what you should even do. You take a few more steps back and he follows, “Stay there!” You demand, raising a finger to him. He does as told - whether he wishes to or not - and allows you to take a few more steps back until you catch sight of the gate in your peripherals. As long as he stays where he is, you could slip out without him, “Good.”

Namjoon, however, takes offense to you keeping your distance from him. This was no way to treat a king, especially ‘your’ king nonetheless, “Do not speak to me as if I am a child! I am a king, may I remind you.”

“You may. But may I also remind you that your rule ended over 1,000 years ago and you no longer hold any power.” You say, watching the frown on his features deepen into a scowl. With every minute that passes, his calm exterior continues to break, showing you his true nature. You take this moment of weakness against him and reach for his exhibit key on your belt, “I, however, am in charge of this museum after hours, so you have to listen to me.”

“I am a man-” He tries to argue, but you’re quick to shut his misogyny down.

“-And I am a woman,” You retort, thumbing through the labeled keys. Hoseok always made fun of you for trying to organize them, but it looks like the jokes on him. Not that he would really believe you if you told him.

“Your man card doesn’t work in this age, so try something else, your highness~” You tease.

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest and glares, “You have quite the tongue when you’re not screaming.”

“Thank you, I get it from my grandmother. Now-” You slip through the crack you left in the gate and pull it close, pulling his key from it’s retractable clip and locking him in, “-go back to sleep.”

He blinks a few times before he moves towards you. He places his hands on the bars and pulls at them, but they don’t budge under him. His eyes widen in shock and he turns to you, “Did you just lock me in here?”

“I did.” You nod, smug smile and all.

“Unlock it. Now.” He demands, tightening his hold on the bars.

“Hm…” You pretend to contemplate his request, tapping a finger against your chin before you come to a fake decision, “No.”

“You insolent girl!” Namjoon yells, banging his fists against the gate that holds him.

You step back with wide eyes, stunned by his sudden outburst. You knew you were making him angry, but not this angry, “Wow, that’s one way to talk to your apparent soulmate.”

“I’ve been pleasant long enough! It’s time for you to accept the truth and let. Me. Out!” He demands.

You shake your head, “I don’t think I will.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” He huffs.

Staring at him through the bars, you take in his features. He’s angry, that much is clear. But there’s something else about him that just seems more hurt than anything. You don’t want to feel bad for him, but you have to give him credit where it’s due.

You release an exasperated sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This is probably hard for you and...a fever dream for me-” Fever dream is perhaps the most lax way to describe this experience, “-but I think your necklace chose the wrong person.”

Namjoon stiffens and he almost looks offended at your assumption, “The moon goddess is never wrong.”

“Well, this time she is,” You insist.

“So what do you expect me to do?” He asks.

You shrug, “I’d prefer it if you went back into your box.”

“You want me to live my life in a box? After I’ve already spent so much time in it?!” He asks.

“Yes! No...I-” You’re unsure of what to say. On one hand, you feel a bit guilty asking him to return to a box he’s spent 1,000 years in. He died once, believing that when he woke he’d be greeted by his one true love. Instead he woke up to you screaming at him.

But on the other hand, he was supposed to be dead.

You sigh, “I don’t know what I want, but I can’t deal with-...” You raise your hands, grasping at the air before gesturing to him, “-this.”

The king looks offended, but he holds his tongue. Instead he crosses his arms and straightens his posture, “Well, I will not be going back in that box.”

“Wha-?” You cut yourself off, in disbelief of this man’s stubbornness. You huff, “Then go find your palace or wherever you lived before!”

He shakes his head, “I won’t leave if you refuse to leave with me.”

“Then you better get used to your view, because this is all you’ll be seeing!” You state, finally having enough of him. You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, something you should have done when you first came up to the exhibit.

“You’ll come to realize that our intertwined fates will not go away just because you wish them to!” He calls after you, his voice echoing off the walls around you, “And then you’ll be crawling back to me!”

When you continue walking and refuse to answer him, he yells again, “At least let me explore!”

“Not happening!” You call over your shoulder.

“This is humiliating! You can’t do this!” You hear him rattling the gate again, but you pay him no mind. “Come back here, you insolent child!”

You bypass every other exhibit that you were supposed to check, instead rushing back to the safety of your office. Once you’re in you bolt the door behind you, just in case anything else in the building decided it needed to come to life as well. You drop yourself in your office chair and take a moment to yourself, giving yourself time to take in all of the events that just transpired.

The mummy from the new exhibit just came to life, you were somehow able to talk to him without passing out, he thinks you’re his soulmate, and now he’s upset with you because you locked him in his exhibit that he shouldn’t be freely roaming in.

You turn to your monitor and switch through feeds until you find Namjoon’s exhibit. He’s still standing by the closed gate, his hands slipped through the bars to try and fiddle with the lock. His posture that he once held with you is lacking, not as pristine as it was before. You can’t help but watch him with pity as his attempts to get out continue to fail.

But you can’t bring yourself to go back before the night ends.

30 minutes before the morning shift was due to come in, you use the intercom to tell Namjoon he’d have to return to his sarcophagus for the day. You couldn’t hear him, but you didn’t need a microphone to know he was not only confused but also very unhappy about that. You managed to convince him by informing him they would take him away to rot in a cell without you if he didn’t, and that seemed to kick him into gear.

Thankfully, he didn’t need your help making it back to his bed or putting the cover on top. You were not about to go down to his exhibit. Especially when the room itself looked completely untouched on the camera. The ropes that had been torn from the wall were back in their place as if nothing had ever happened, and the wrappings the King decided to discard were nowhere to be seen.

After that, you sat and waited for the morning shift to come and take over for you. You said good morning to all of your coworkers, and then you left. You went home and you went to bed, but waking again didn’t feel like a new experience. The looming feeling of knowing what awaits when you get to work again haunts you until your once again clearing the exhibits for the night.

You make it to the exhibit that has weighed you down for the past 12 hours and you hesitate to step inside. Clearing the room and locking it up will start the night, and then you’re left with the chances of seeing him again. Seeing him again means that everything you saw last night wasn’t a joke, and that you really have a living mummy in your museum.

What’s worse is he thinks you're his true love.

You come across Taehyung, once again sitting on the bench in front of the king’s sarcophagus. He wears a loose white button down and a pair of black dress pants, balancing a sketch pad on his thigh. He attempts to draw the exhibits main attraction with the altar that took weeks to create. If only he knew the object of his affections was alive and well only 15 feet away from him.

“Having fun there?” You ask, sitting next to the fashionable curator.

He takes a moment to answer, defining a line on his paper before he acknowledges you, “I always do when I’m here with Namjoon-hyung.” You roll your eyes at his use of ‘hyung’ and he chuckles. He turns his attention back to his paper, “Did you have a good rest of your night?”

You feel every bone in your body tense at the mention of the previous night. Last night was almost an out of body experience for you, and there was no real way to describe what you went through.

You shrug, “It was okay, same old same old.”

“That’s good! I’m glad you’re doing well here on your own at night.” He looks up from his shading and sets his pencil down, his expression becoming somber, “It must be hard without Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, it can be...” Working without Chanyeol really wasn’t any worse than working together. The only thing is now your new coworker is a 1,000 year old un-dead guy, but that’s a little much to explain, “But it’s fine! It really isn’t that strenuous on me at all.”

He smiles at your response and turns to look at his drawing, “I guess I’m holding you up aren’t I?”

You want to tell him more than anything that today you want him to stay just a little longer. Today is the day you want to hear all about every exhibit in the museum. More than anything, you just don’t want to face Namjoon alone, but no one would believe you if you told them the truth. So instead, you hum in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Once again, you watch him pack up and dance his way out of the exhibit. Only today you follow close behind, locking the king’s exhibit and rushing to the next - much more normal - exhibit.

---

It’s surreal to watch Namjoon through a screen. Sure, seeing him the other night was an experience, but to see that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you is another trip entirely! With Namjoon truly existing, that leads you to really question his claims. You did touch the necklace, but so had plenty of others. Not to mention, it took him almost 3 hours after you’d touched it to wake up, so who’s to say that Taehyung isn’t his true soulmate? Even Yoongi could be!

Anyone but you.

He’s much more different now that he’s ‘chilled out’ from last night’s events. He’s no longer pacing back and forth or banging on his exhibit’s gate - though he has tried to pull it open once or twice. Now, he just sits on the bench where you had sat with Taehyung, only he sits facing away from his final resting place.

He looks to be in deep thought, as if he’s contemplating something as he stares ahead of him. You like him better this way, calm and quiet instead of trying too hard to convince you to run away with him. This king you could babysit until he fell back asleep as he should’ve been in the first place.

With him seemingly content, you allow yourself to work on other things you’d normally do throughout the night. You mainly focus on the online coursework you didn’t get done due to the distraction on the screen in front of you, organizing your office in between assignments. You don’t really pay any mind to your cameras until you catch movement coming from Namjoon’s.

On the screen, he appears to be waving his arms and yelling, resembling those people you see on TV when someone gets injured. You can’t help but sigh. You’ve been putting off your rounds just so you wouldn’t have to go by his exhibit for him to accost you, now you didn’t have a choice but to go see what was troubling him before he broke something.

You grab your flashlight and tuck it into its place on your belt clip, leaving the safety of your office to see what his majesty so desperately needs from you. It must be desperate if he’s yelling for the entire city to hear. You quicken your pace to get there faster, hopefully before anybody besides you has the chance to hear his cries.

“Soulmate!” He yells, his voice clear as day as you reach level 3, “Come here! I demand your presence!”

“If you don’t stop yelling for everyone to hear you, then I’m going to turn around and leave you alone!” You yell back, assuming he hears you when the yelling doesn’t continue. You make it to the gate of his exhibit and find him waiting for you with his arms crossed, no longer as relaxed as he was when the night began.

“What?” You ask, stopping in front of him.

He doesn’t give you the pleasure of knowing right away. Instead, he looks you up and down with a hard glare, “You didn’t bring me food.”

“That’s what you’re yelling about?” You ask in disbelief.

Namjoon takes offense to your indifference, “Yes! For your information, I am very hungry for someone who hasn’t eaten in over 1,000 years.”

In hindsight, you’d most likely be a little angry too if you hadn’t eaten in so long as well - though it’s not really an excuse for his behavior last night. But explaining why an unconscious guy was chilling on the floor of a locked exhibit with security footage showing him coming out of the sarcophagus would not be fun for anyone involved.

“I’ll be right back.” You leave him to run back to the break room, grabbing the prepackaged lunch you had bought for yourself, a pair of disposable chopsticks, and a banana milk that you kept stashed behind Hoseok’s forgotten lunchbox before heading back up.

Namjoon gives you a strange look when you come back, his eyes trained on the box in your hand, “What is that?”

“It was my lunch, but you probably need this more than me.” You look for the key to his exhibit on your belt, sifting through until you find the right label and pull it up to unlock the gate. You pause before turning the lock, “Move back to the case.”

“Really?” Namjoon asks, his eyes narrowed in a glare. You return your own glare until he finally gives in and takes the steps back to the case as you asked him to, “Happy?”

You nod and turn the lock over, opening the gate and slipping inside with the food you brought for him. You hand him the lunchbox and the milk before you reach into your back pocket for the chopsticks, “Sorry if it’s not what you’re used to, but this is all I’ve got-”

“-There’s no need.” He raises a hand to stop you - an action that irks you to no end - and sits on the floor with the food you’ve given him. You watch as he struggles with the tape that holds it together, holding back your laughter when he manages to get it off the box and stuck to his fingers instead. He seems to relax when he rubs it off on the floor, but his next challenge comes when he opens the packet of chopsticks and there’s only one inside, “What this?!”

“I’m going to assume you’ve never seen this before.” You bend down to his level to take the chopsticks from him, holding each one and pulling them apart to create two, perfectly good chopsticks. You bite back a laugh when you see the amazement written across Namjoon’s face, “Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Very…” He says. You hand him the chopsticks, watching with amusement as he tries to fit them back together. One drops and he fumbles to catch it before he realizes you’re still watching him, quickly using the utensils to shove food in his mouth as a distraction.

“Here.” Not wanting him to embarrass himself further, you take his banana milk and open it for him, setting it beside him while he eats. He takes a moment to take a sip and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What is this?” He asks, holding the bottle close to his face to inspect the label.

You shrug, “It’s just banana milk.”

“Well, it tastes fantastic!” He tilts his head back and chugs the rest of it, wiping his mouth before turning back to you with the same expression of a puppy ready to play, “Is there more?”

“Uh…” You hesitate to answer, afraid he’ll try to boss you around again, “Yeah, we do.”

“Bring me-!” He stops when he sees your expression sour. Instead, he clears his throat and bows his head, “If you wouldn’t mind, could I please have another?”

“Sure thing.” You smile, and he smiles back. It wasn’t much, but it felt like an understanding after the fiasco that happened the night before.

So, you rush back while he continues eating, grabbing two more banana milks and a bag of chips for you to munch on yourself. When you come back, you’re not surprised to see that he’s finished his food and left the box laying on the floor with the empty milk container. You want to be upset with him for just leaving his trash lying around, but it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s trying so hard to work the kiosk.

“This infernal contraption doesn’t work!” He yells, hitting the top of it as if that would somehow make it work. Of course, he’s not the only person to try this - you’ve seen many middle aged men try to do the same thing when you close - but it would only prove to break if he didn’t dial it back.

“Don’t do that!” You rush to his side and push his hands away, blocking him from touching the kiosk any more. “You can’t just hit things and expect them to work. That’s not how people solve their problems.”

“Well, it doesn’t have a mouth, so how am I supposed to talk to it?” He questions.

“Okay…” You heave a sigh and grab the headphones that rest on the kiosk’s base, a pair for you and a pair for Namjoon. You place yours on your head and then move to place Namjoon’s over his ears. He flinches away from your touch and you pull back a bit, “It’s okay, I’m just going to show you how this works.”

He relaxes, bowing his head so you can place the headphones over his ears. Once they’re well adjusted, you tap the screen of the kiosk to bring it to life. You read through the options designed for the exhibit, choosing to let it read through information about Namjoon himself.

“The Kim Dynasty-” The woman’s voice fills both of your ears, scaring Namjoon so much that he jumps back and his headphones clang to the floor.

His scared expression is priceless, eyes wide and hands raised to defend himself. You laugh, picking up his headphones and extending them to him, “That’s supposed to happen.”

“How is it doing that? Is there a woman trapped in each of these?” He asks, eyeing the other kiosks that line the wall beside the one you share.

You shake your head, “It’s called a recording. They made a copy of her voice and put it in here so the people that come here can learn more about you.”

“Oh…” He accepts your answer and the headphones in your hand, “I see the moon goddess has been very busy.”

“Here.” You grab his hand and fix it so his pointer finger sticks out, guiding his hand so it presses lightly against the glass to select a different option. A new section of Namjoon’s life begins to play and Namjoon seems impressed by the ‘power’ he holds in one appendage. “This is called a touch-screen. You just have to tap the buttons on the screen and it’ll change.”

He nods, staring intently at the screen before him. He tilts his head and taps the little home button at the top left, surprised when the screen changes from a video to the screen it started on. He smiles, his dimples popping out as he chooses another option, “This is amazing!”

His smile is infectious, as well as his eagerness to learn more about the technology in front of him, “I’ll just leave you to play with that for a bit, I have a job to do.”

“Yes! Okay.” He waves you off, paying more attention to the kiosk than to you.

You lock the gate behind you when you leave, though it doesn’t seem like Namjoon even took notice of either action. Even after you rush through your duties to come back to him sooner, he’s still playing with the same kiosk with a child’s enthusiasm.

“You’re really enjoying yourself.” You muse, standing off to the side behind him.

Namjoon nods, his fingers still dancing across the screen, “This technology is amazing! If only we had this in my dynasty. I can only imagine the advantages we would have had.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, it definitely comes in handy. Though, a lot of people believe it’s made us weaker as a society.”

“I can see why. Everything I could ever want to know about myself is right here at my fingertips,” He says, scrolling through the different options he could look through. He comes across a picture of himself and grimaces, “I wish they would have used a different portrait.”

You chuckle in amusement, “Well, if you’re not having my trouble, then I‘m going to get back to my office.” You go to leave the room again when Namjoon grabs you by the arm.

“Wait!” He yells, pulling you back to him. It takes him a second to realize what he did before he let’s go, “Sorry!”

“It’s fine.” You mumble.

“I just-...” The king pauses, taking a moment to collect himself, “I wanted to know if I could look at more exhibits tomorrow?”

His eyes look down into yours, so hopeful for a good answer. You’re unsure, “I don’t know…” You want to say yes to him, but there’s so much at stake if you were to let him walk around on his own. Granted, he couldn’t trip the alarms, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break anything.

“I won’t touch anything, I swear!” He promises, both of his hands reaching out to take your own. He holds them to his chest, lightly cradling against the fabric of his shirt as he begs you, “I just don’t want to spend the rest of my time sitting in this room when there’s so much more around me.”

That gets you.

If there was one thing you could understand, it was being somewhere new with so much knowledge that you just had to know more. For someone like Namjoon, this was more than that. He had a whole world to try to come to terms with, and he was standing in the best place to do so. If you denied him that, then would you be able to deal with it?

“Tomorrow.” You say, “I’ll let you explore the museum tomorrow.”

Namjoon’s eyes light up and it looks like a weight is lifted right off of his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate to bow to you, “Thank you, soulmate.”

“It’s not the whole museum!” You add quickly, “And my name is (Y/n).” He seems unhappy at first, but he does eventually nod to give his thanks where it was due. You give a polite bow back, “You’re welcome.”

The next night comes all too quickly for you. Leaving him alone to explore was more than nerve wracking. You were probably out of your mind for even considering letting him out on his own, let alone trusting him in the first place. Sitting in your office you’d check the camera’s every few minutes just to be sure he was still in the hall, or you’d pinpoint his last location and make your final round of the museum according to how he’d walk through the halls.

That first night, Namjoon only went through his exhibit and the rest of level 3. Occasionally you’d catch him playing with a water fountain on the camera’s in front of the bathroom. Another time you caught him turning towards a planter and you quickly changed screens, reminding yourself to open a bathroom for him for the next night.

As two more nights pass, you notice his want to get closer to the exhibits than to just sit on the outside. More often than not, you caught him with his face pressed against the metal bars trying to get a closer look at everything. It wasn’t hard to tell that he wanted to be in the room with the art itself, but a part of you is still worried to let him have that extra inch.

It’s only on the 5th night when Taehyung takes notice of your woes that you change your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, leaning over himself on the bench to look at you. You sit with your hands in your lap just staring at Namjoon in front of you, wondering if you can really trust him to continue keeping his word. You don’t notice Taehyung, nor do you hear his question. He rolls his eyes and taps your knee twice, “Hey!”

“Huh?” You blink away your thoughts and turn your attention to him. Unaware of what he asked, you tilt your head in confusion, “What?”

Taehyung hums to himself and nods, “I’m right, something is wrong with you.”

“What do you mean something’s wrong with me?” You ask defensively.

Taehyung sighs and shows you his watch, showing you that it’s 5 minutes past weekday closing time, “This is the longest you’ve let me sit here rambling to myself. 10 minutes past our normal time!”

You shake your head, content to push him away, “I’m just a bit distracted, that’s all.”

“By what? Is it a work problem? Family troubles? You can tell me, I’ll listen!” He assures you.

You have no doubt in your mind that he will listen to you, but how do you explain your situation is the real problem at hand. There were only so many excuses in the world, and if you weren’t careful you might get yourself fired just for using a bad analogy.

You weigh your options and sigh, “My niece - she’s really little and way too rambunctious to come here - really wants to come and see the art on display. I want her to come see where I work because I know she likes the art, but I know my sister is worried about her breaking something or causing a scene.”

“Hmm...I see.” Taehyung hums, not showing any sign of suspicion against you. He really thinks about your ‘concern’ before he comes to a conclusion. “I think she should come and see.”

“Really?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah! It’s best to let children experience art and it’s creativity for themselves! Even young children have an eye for art, and those who truly appreciate it only want to see it up close to see every detail.”

“I guess that does make sense…” Thinking about it, he does have a point. Namjoon may be from a different moment in time, but he’s still a grown adult.

Taehyung seems to sense your uncertainty and places a calming hand on your knee, “Art isn’t meant to be viewed from afar. It’s made to make us feel emotion.” He explains, “Even the most unlikely of patrons can find something that makes them appreciate art.”

Even after your talk is finished and you’ve left Namjoon’s exhibit unlocked for him to let himself out, you’re still debating your next course of action. There’s a big risk in letting him roam through the exhibits, but you can’t in good conscience let him sit around doing nothing forever.

You find Namjoon on level 4, his face pressed against the bars of the Apparel Through the Ages exhibit. You sneak up behind him and clear your throat, “Good evening, your highness.”

Namjoon stumbles back, not expecting you to be there. It’s amusing to watch him scramble into a more respectable position with his hands behind his back. He glances your way, “Have you come around already?”

“No, I haven’t,” You say. You pull at the keys on your belt and jingle them, “I’ve come to open an exhibit for you.”

“What?” He’s surprised, “Will you really?”

“Someone told me that those who appreciate art want to take in all the details they can.” It didn’t take a genius to see that Namjoon wants to see more than he can see at the exhibit’s gates. An old soul like his could probably use some new perspective, “You choose the exhibit and I’ll unlock it.”

“Any of them?” He asks.

You nod, “Just lead the way.”

The light in his eyes that you saw the night before comes back and it relaxes you for some reason. Even as he takes your wrist to lead you down the hall to the exhibit he wants to see, it’s as if he’s two different people. It’s almost confusing how quickly his demeanor changes with you. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he becomes a child. Yet the moment you offer something new - something for him to learn about - it’s as if he’s just a child at heart.

When you open the Animal Kingdom exhibit on level 2 for him you’re thrown for another loop. He only gives you a simple thanks and walks away, leaving you to question if he’s just inherently an asshole or if he’s just petty. Even as you come back around from your rounds to close up for the night, he still seems to flip back and forth with his own personality and his thanks.

You go home that morning confused and on a mission. You throw the notion of sleep out the window and settle onto your couch with a cup of coffee and your laptop, determined to know more about this so-called King that intends to ruin your life little by little.

A simple Google search brings you many results, ranging in portraits and newspaper articles to biographies written by renowned historians. You click on the first link available, taking you to a page drowning in photos and art. It would seem that even in life, Namjoon enjoyed surrounding himself with art.

His portraits were absolutely breathtaking - you could understand his disappointment now that you’ve seen more than just the one - and the pictures they showcase of his palace are surrounded in flowers and gorgeous statement pieces littered across the grounds. It’s surprising to read that they’ve remained there for so long without any disturbances. You would have thought they’d taken one or two lawn pieces like they had taken Namjoon, yet they remain in their home without any signs of distress to them.

You take another long sip of coffee and move onto another page, checking out a more informative website. This one goes into detail about his life as a prince and as a king. You discover that he became king at the young age of 17 when his parents sadly passed away during an ambush to the throne. Apparently, he changed over half of the Kingdom’s laws the very next day and saw to every change in policy himself. It only took him 3 months to get the people of his kingdom to trust in him and his guidance, which - according to the article - was a big feat for his time.

You’re surprised to read about his contributions to his people. He strongly encouraged his people to progress forward and bring him their concerns, he housed over 30 children in his home at one time because they had no homes to go to and he even had a sort of sanctuary for animals to be cared for under his watch. He oversaw their historians writing, ensuring that they put every detail on paper. Even his failures were written down under his careful eye, despite his power to erase them from future generations

This Namjoon was so kind and caring. He was so well educated and well-spoken, and he was loved by all of his people for his generosity and understanding nature. How is it that a man who was known for being so kind, could be the same man who bossed you around and demanded that you spend the rest of your life with him?

How is it that a guy who sounds so sweet on paper can be a total dick in real life?

* * *

After hours of research with no sleep and a cold shower to wake you up, you find yourself standing in front of Namjoon with a copy of The Little Prince tucked on top of the food you’ve brought him for the night.

Namjoon accepts the food, taking the boxed lunch with one hand so he can pick up the book with the other. He inspects it carefully, flipping it over a few times to look it over, “What’s this?”

“I did a little research on you, your highness. According to historians and the internet, you were quite the avid reader.” You’d read a lot about Namjoon, and every website you visited gave you list upon list of books read by him when he was still alive and well. They all spoke of his fascination for fantasy novels and those with deeper meanings behind them. The Little Prince seemed like a no brainer to you when it came to more relevant novels to fit his tastes. “I figured you might get bored sooner or later, so I brought you something to pass the time until you fall asleep again.”

“You know that’s not how the enchantment works, yes?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment before you reply, “No, I don’t know that. Do you?”

“I-” Namjoon is at a loss for your teasing words. Instead he frowns and turns his nose,“It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen it happen! I trust the moon goddess!”

“Mhmm, whatever you say~” You laugh, much to his annoyance. Namjoon sits down to eat his food and you take that as a sign for you to continue doing your job, “Enjoy your book and your food.”

You go to leave, but the king calls after you, “Can’t you stay here? Keep me company?”

You pause. His company wasn’t terrible, but you don’t want to stay and risk giving him a sense of false hope. He was still over 1,000 years old, and you were still a broke college student trying to pay her way through life. You’ve never been the type to play with someone’s emotions, and you weren’t going to start now.

“That’s not in my job description.” You say. You almost regret your choice when you see his sad expression, but you steel yourself, “Have a good night.”

You leave him, not coming back until you’re making a lap on your rounds. And there - sitting against one of the large display cases - sits Namjoon with the book held loosely in his hands, his face holding a look of pure concentration and a ghost of a smile. He looks so peaceful and content sitting cross-legged on the hard wood of his exhibit, you almost feel bad for asking him to return to his sarcophagus. But that night he goes willingly.

And you can’t help but notice the glow of the necklace on your way out.

---

“Hey-!” You turn your head away from the water fountain, hearing Jimin’s voice call down the already noisy hall. You spy him at the entrance of the gift shop, but his attention is on a girl passing by who’s turned to look at him as well. He holds a box in his hand, but you can’t see what’s inside from where you stand. “Have you seen our new merchandise that just came in?”

“Uh...no, I haven’t.” The girl seems slightly uncomfortable. Either from his approach from the gift shop for her to buy something, or just from a guy who looks like Jimin approaching her - you don’t know which.

You walk closer to the gift shop, curious yourself about the mystery box in Jimin’s hands.

“This - my lovely lady - is our newest piece of jewelry.” He opens the box and you catch a glimmer of silver and fuschia, “The necklace of King Kim Namjoon’s lost lover.”

Her face lights up initially when she sees it, but then her face drops and she shakes her head, “Oh, no, thank you.”

“You don’t want to buy it?” He asks. Jimin pouts and you can feel the immediate distress coming off the poor girl he’s talking to.

“It’s pretty, but it’s a little expensive…” She tries to explain her situation - whether it’s true or not - but Jimin is relentless.

He looks around the hall to make sure no one is too close to listen - all but you anyways - and gets closer to her, “But don’t you know the legend behind the necklace?”

“Of course I do! King Kim Namjoon’s soulmate is supposed to wear this necklace.” She says.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Jimin makes a point of string into her eyes, unwilling to break their eye contact, “Legend says he prayed to the moon goddess herself to find his true love and she gifted him with her own special moonstone to guide his other half to him!”

He moves closer, so that the two are almost shoulder to shoulder just so he can give her a closer view of the product, “These pink stones are pieces of the King’s soulmate's heart, and they’ll glow brightest when his lover wears his necklace by his side!”

“Wow...that’s so romantic.” You can see her resolve breaking, and you almost feel bad for her that Jimin is the clerk on duty today.

“Do you want to know the best part?” He asks, his smile reaching his cheeks and his eyes full of mischief that resemble love almost too closely. She nods enthusiastically and Jimin brings the box closer so she can see, “This gold string that holds it altogether represents their connection to each other. It’s a bond that can’t be broken by anything in the universe.”

He carelessly throws an arm over her shoulder, just light enough to be seen as friendly. Though, it would seem the small trick is already working it’s magic on the poor thing. He squeezes her shoulder, “A lot of people believe that wearing this necklace will bring you closer to finding your own true love, so they package them with their own prayers to the moon goddess in hopes she’ll grant them eternal love as well.”

“Really?!” She asks. She looks to him as if he holds the whole universe in his hands, having been swayed by the blonde’s charm.

“Yeah!”

Just like that, you watch him lead her back to the counter and then wave her and her new treasure goodbye, holding a sticky note close to his heart.

“Should you really be lying like that?”You ask from the store’s entrance. You’re more than disappointed to see yet another girl fall for the man’s charms

Jimin shrugs, “I didn’t lie. I just stretched the truth.”

You walk up to the counter and snatch the note out of his hand, “Stretching the truth sounds a lot like lying.”

“Don’t you have a monitor to watch somewhere?” He teases. You hand him the paper back and he sticks it in his pocket, bending below the counter to grab another.

You can’t help but think about what he said, and the legend behind the real necklace. You’ve heard a lot about the real thing, but all of it usually went in one ear and out the other as myth for you. Now that you know it’s real and far from a hoax, you have so much more that you need to know.

Jimin pops back up with a stack of necklaces in his arms and sets them on the counter in front of you, pulling out a sheet of tags that go with them. You take the sheet from his hand and peel one off, handing it to him, “Can I ask you a question? About the necklace?”

“Sure, but Taehyung is the expert around here.” He says, accepting your sticker to place on the box in front of him.

“You think I don’t know that?” You laugh. You look down and peel off another one, “Is all of what you said about the necklace itself true? About the real necklace?”

“According to Taehyung it is!” He nods, not even sparing you a glance, “The moon goddess gave the King a necklace so powerful that only he and his lover could tear the bond if they chose to, but they never got the chance to meet.”

You hand him another sticker, but you stare into space as you do, “That’s...really sad.” You can’t help but think of the pain Namjoon had to go through knowing his soulmate would be by his side, but not knowing it wouldn’t be in his first lifetime. Not only that, but to wake up and then be met with someone who doesn’t even want to be his soulmate? You can’t help but think about how you’d act towards him if the roles were reversed and he were in your shoes.

You’d be devastated.

“It is.” He takes the sticker from you with one hand and flicks your forehead with the other. You flinch and pull back with your hand rubbing the spot he hit while he just smirks at you, “You would know if you ever listened to Taehyung.”

“Yeah.” You don’t even register your response before handing the sticker sheet back to Jimin and pushing off the counter, “Thanks Jimin! Have a good night, okay? Don’t call me at 2am like last week.”

“No promises~” He sings, going back to his work in front of him.

Later that night when you’re handing Namjoon his dinner, you sit with him to eat yours as well. The look Namjoon gives you as you calmly open your dinner across from him is almost too good to ignore.

“What are you doing?” He asks, slowly unboxing his own lunch.

You pay him no mind as you break apart your chopsticks to start eating, “You wanted me to keep you company, remember? Or is my presence no longer appreciated?” You pick up a clump of rice and turn your attention to him, eyebrow raised.

Namjoon is quick to shake his head and get started on his own food, “Of course it is!”

You both eat in awkward silence, neither of you quite sure how to start a normal conversation. You’ve only ever made polite talk with him, and he only ever seemed to anger you no matter what he said. The only time you were ever civil was when you would show him something new.

Namjoon swallows his food and clears his throat, “Where would you like me to escort you tonight, my lady?”

You shake your head, “First of all, don’t call me ‘your lady’ or anything else other than my name.” You warn him, pointing at the tag on your jacket. He nods and you continue with your rant, “Second, I have some rounds to do, so you can join me tonight as long as you don’t bother me too much. Understood?”

“Yes, my la-” You narrow your eyes at him and he corrects himself, “(Y/n).”

The two of you finish your food quickly with some small talk made here and there. When you’ve cleaned up, you allow Namjoon to lead you to another exhibit he’s yet to see. All the way on level 1, he wants to see art he’s more familiar with.

“So, you said you asked the moon goddess for a chance to meet your soulmate?” You ask one you’re inside the museum.

“Indeed,” Namjoon nods, listening to you as he takes in the art around him, “I prayed to her one night on a full moon and I begged her to send me a lover. Someone I could confide in and care for, and would do the same for me.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “And instead she gave you the necklace?”

“No, she gave you a way to find me.” He says, a genuine look of happiness on his face.

“Still-“ You feel a heat rising in your face and you can’t help but turn away from him out of embarrassment. Your eyes land on a painting of a couple and you feel the knife dig just a little deeper, “-you asked her for someone to rule by your side as your equal and she let fate tear you apart.”

He shrugs, “Maybe we weren’t meant to meet before now.”

His calm exterior bothers you. If you had asked for what he had, you’d be livid! He made a promise and that promise was misguided!

“How can you be so calm?” You ask, allowing your thoughts to be heard.

Namjoon stops to look at a picture of a cherry blossom in the winter, it’s petals covered in frost. He smiles, “You said you read about me from one of your current books. The internet? What do they tell you of me?”

You chuckle at his misunderstanding of what the internet truly is, “Well, the internet told me that you were a very generous and beloved king. They said you were intelligent and caring.”

He chuckles, “I’m flattered.” He looks to you with an amused smile and you elbow his side carefully, causing him to laugh, “I’m only joking!”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, sure.”

Moving on to the next painting, he follows after you, “What else did your book tell you?”

“Well, it told me about your love for the arts.” You remember the extensive biography you’d found during your research. You didn’t read it in its entirety, but you did skim through it, “I read that you would host a festival every year?”

“Yes! Just something special during the summer seasons to enlighten everyone.” He has a far away look in his eye as he recalls the fond memories of his past life, and you can only begin to wonder what a day in his life would have been like, “I’d import goods from everywhere just to have the best for my people.”

“It would seem you’re truly generous, your majesty~” You tease.

“Namjoon.” He corrects you. You give him a quizzical stare and he only smiles in return, “If I’m to call you by your more common title, then you should feel free to use mine. I am attempting to woo you after all.”

“Right.” You smile awkwardly, remembering that you were actually trying to give him a chance. You’d actually been comfortable for once, that you hadn’t even noticed just how easy it had become to talk to him.

“And to really answer your question of why I am as calm as I am,” He pauses in front of a portrait of a town under the night sky, his attention trained on the light orb in the background of the painting. “The moon goddess is lonely herself by nature, so separated from our world. Just like this portrait, we see her, but we pay her no mind.”

You stand beside him and take your own, clear look at the picture. If you would have looked at it on your own, your main focus would have been on the town and the people in the foreground. You would have glanced at the moon, but the orb and her stars were painted so faint compared to the rest of the picture.

“She came to me - and perhaps it was out of boredom for her own happiness - but she made me a promise. Promises are something I don’t take lightly.” He says. His words are spoken like a true king, but you can’t help but wonder if he himself truly means what he says.

Namjoon turns to you with a peaceful smile, “Fate works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it’s best for us to wait and see what it brings.”

He’s ready to move on and you both bask in a new found silence as you continue to walk through the exhibit, stopping occasionally at a portrait here and there. Though at every painting you stop, you can’t help but look at the man next to you.

This was the man described in everything you read. This was King Kim Namjoon at his finest, and you were privileged enough to be there.

“Did you really house orphaned children?” You ask out of the blue.

He blinks at first, registering your sudden outburst. Though, when he does realize what you’ve asked, he smiles fondly, “I did. Of all the people we should take care of, our children and our elderly are most important!”

His words are filled with passion, and you can tell he really cares about the people he’s talking about, “Our elders have shaped our generation, and we shape the generations after us. It’s only fair that we see they’re well taken care of.”

There’s a part of you that truly wishes to see what he was like as a ruler for yourself. You smile, “Well, I guess the internet doesn’t lie.”

“I suppose it doesn’t, though I’m probably not the correct person to ask.” He sheepishly admits, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

You nod in understanding. He really didn’t know much about this era or it’s advancements besides the kiosks in his exhibit. It takes you a moment, but you think of the perfect exhibit to introduce him to the 21st century.

You take his hand in yours - effectively catching him off guard - and you pull him in the direction of the exit, “Well, allow me to educate you about the world I live in.”

Namjoon doesn’t even attempt to hide his blush this time around. He only nods and allows himself to follow you, “Please.”

You lead him out of the more classic featured art section and into the Modern Art Exhibit. This exhibit starts very tame, sticking to photography and modern painting styles before it morphs into free form art sculptures in the connecting rooms.

One sculpture is made of metal and it’s shape reminds you of a round mushroom. It's definitely interesting, but you don’t necessarily understand it’s appeal. It would seem Namjoon is confused as well.

“This is art?” He asks, his head tilted to the side as he follows his distorted reflection.

“It is.” You assure him. You had a feeling he wouldn’t get it either, you just wanted to show him what he was missing. You sigh, “I don’t really understand it either so don’t fe-”

“It’s so intriguing.” Namjoon says, cutting you off.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, slightly confused.

“The structure and the colors, they’re so complimentary to the other! I don’t want to look away.” His entire being is completely enraptured with the piece in front of him. It’s so simple, yet his eye contact doesn’t break from his reflection. “I feel as though I am in a trance.”

You squeeze his hand - not even caring that your hands are still connected, “Well, there’s much more of this to see.”

A look of pure joy and elation blossoms on Namjoon’s face and you feel a faint flutter in your heart. You’d never noticed how bright his eyes shine until now, nor did you notice just how cute his dimples really were.

Are you really falling for him?

~ Read: Part 2 ~

149 notes · View notes

angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

desolate (2)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 2.9k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou , @ladymidnightt Part one Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

A sharp tone rips you out of your dreams, your alarm screeching at the top of its lungs to make you get up. You groan, fumbling around before you find your phone to turn it off. You look at your screen through bleary eyes, annoyed that you forgot to turn off your alarm considering it’s a Saturday and you absolutely do not have to wake up at 6.30 am today.

You huff, throwing your phone further down your bed and turning over to go back to sleep. The noise startled you enough that you can still feel your heart racing, and even though you doubt you’ll be able to slip back into the dream you had, you can still take a few minutes more to just rest.

You stare at the sunlight that has started peeking through the gaps in your curtains, everything still a little hazy from the vivid dream you had. But the more you look out in your room, the more the golden eyes and black soft fur you thought was only a dream starts melting away and the day before comes rushing back.

You actually adopted a cat! Your stomach does a funny flip, excitement rushing through your veins as you quickly sit up in bed. The floor is cold as you plant your feet on the ground, and you hurry over to your closet with a grimace.

In a few weeks it’ll become too cold to have the heater off, and you already dread how high your electricity bills are going to become in the following months. But it’s either that or freezing to death, and frankly with your busy schedule, you don’t have time for that. You throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants, happy that the only thing on your agenda today is just lazing around the apartment.

You hurry to your bedroom door after tugging on some thick socks to ward off the cold, only pausing for a short second to take a deep breath before opening it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but finding your kitty lying directly outside of your door definitely wasn’t it.

You freeze, foot caught mid-air as you stare down at the black ball of fur curled up on the floor. You carefully set your foot down again, clutching the doorframe as you slowly slide down to a crouch. He's so fluffy and cute that your legs wobble, and you have to put a hand down on the floor to keep from toppling over your cat.

You wince as the cold seeps into your fingertips, and you don’t like the thought of your kitty sleeping on it. What if he gets sick? Can cats get sick? You’re not sure, but you don’t want to find out either.

“Kitty?” You murmur, watching as one ear twitches in your direction. You reach out slowly, hand hovering over the furry body hesitantly. You want to touch him, but the band-aids along your forearm serves as a reminder of how much he didn’t like that last night.

“Kitty?” You try again, and this time, golden eyes slide open at your voice. You let out a small coo as it blinks slowly, obviously still sleepy. You figure it might be safe to touch it now that it’s awake, but the moment you fingers inch closer it hisses, golden eyes suddenly wide and alarmed before it quickly scampers under the couch again.

You sigh, pushing yourself up to get some breakfast. You desperately want to cuddle and coddle your new cat, but it’s obvious that it needs space and time, and you need to respect that. Owning pets isn’t always sunshine and butterflies and you figure it probably had a rough life on the streets before you picked it up. It was alone in a shelter, after all.

You change out the water in the bowl you put out for your cat the night before, a frown settling on your face as you realize the dry food you got from Yeonjun hasn’t been touched. You sprinkle some more kibble on just in case, hoping that the fresh bits might smell good and entice your cat to eat something.

It’s still early and you’re feeling a little too lazy to make anything, so you decide that today’s breakfast will be yesterday's leftovers. You bring your meal to the couch, placing the plate with rice and chicken on the coffee table in front of it. You hear a low grumble from underneath the couch as you take a step closer, and you decide that maybe delaying getting your feet mauled for another minute is okay as you run back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

You don’t like the thought of being scared of your own cat, but you figure he’s probably way more scared than you are, and so you just need to suck it up for a while. You gasp as you round the corner, shocked to find your cat eating away at a chicken breast on your plate.

“Kitty!” You rush forward, scared that he’s eating something he isn’t supposed to and hoping to stop him, but your cat is back under the couch before you even reach the table. There’s an obvious gap on your plate from the missing chicken your cat brought with it under the couch, but from the sounds of it, it seems like your cat was starving.

You can hear the hurried bites from where you’re standing, and your heart aches a little at the thought of it being so hungry. Despite your better judgement, you quickly grab another breast from your plate before you can second-guess yourself. Placing it close to the edge of the couch on the floor, you snatch your fingers back just as a black paw comes out and swipes the food in.

You tentatively sit down on the couch, perching on the edge so that your legs are as far away as they can be. Your cat seems to be too busy eating to notice your presence, or maybe it just doesn’t care as long as you bring it food, but you’re nearly all the way done with your meal before you hear a soft hiss from underneath you again.

“I’m done soon kitty,” You mutter, shoving the rest of the food into your mouth before you hurry off into the kitchen with your plate. You know you still have a long way to go before your cat starts to like you, but it still feels like a small victory.

“He hates me,” You groan as you slump down in your chair, Jihyo’s bright eyes staring at your over her computer screen.

“Who? Your cat?” She tilts her head, a small frown on her face as she takes in your tired appearance. You didn’t sleep well all weekend.

You felt terrible for making your cat scared, and so you tried to steer clear of the couch as much as possible. But you also realized you needed to make your presence known if he was ever going to get used to you - so you spent the weekend feeling guilty for both staying away and staying close.

“Yeah,” You mutter as you blow a stubborn piece of hair away from your face.

“It probably just needs some time to adjust ..” She trails off, but you can see the words on the tip of her tongue forming already.

“Don’t–” You start, but Jihyo interrupts you.

“This is why you should’ve gotten a hybrid! It would never be so mean to you,” She pouts. You take a deep breath, trying to push down the annoyance that wants to bubble up and explode.

You love Jihyo and she’s one of your closest friends, but she doesn’t really share the same reality as you. She has money, and you don’t. And while it sounds trivial, it’s enough to create a rift in situations like these where she just doesn’t get it. You don’t have money for a hybrid. Period.

“Jihyo. Let it rest,” You grumble, tone serious and eyes narrowed as you stare her down. She opens her mouth, but seems to think twice and clamps it shut instead.

“Fine,” She huffs. She lets you work in peace until lunch, but you can tell she’s practically bursting with the need to say something as she tugs you inside the lunchroom. It’s empty, you two usually taking your break a little earlier than everybody else just to get some privacy when you eat and talk.

You’ve barely taken a bite of your sandwich when Jihyo sighs dramatically, eyes wide as she throws her arms out across the table.

“I know I’ve only had Sana for three days, but if something happens to her I’m going to kill everybody and then myself,” You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile at how fond Jihyo seems to be already.

“Stop being so dramatic,” You snort. A man quietly makes his way inside the break room; you think you vaguely recognize him as being one of the IT guys in your department.

His eyes grow wide as your eyes meet, and he hurries off to the little kitchen in the corner of the room with his head hung low when you give him a small nod as a greeting. Jihyo seems obvious, too busy dreamily staring out of the window behind you as she continues.

“Sana is so cute. She’s so happy and cuddly,” She gushes, quickly bringing out her phone to show you some of the pictures she took over the weekend. You two have been texting of course, but you knew she wanted to talk about it in more detail over lunch.

“She even picked out her own collar! Look!” You see the IT guy slip out the kitchen as you take Jihyo’s phone, paying him no mind as you smile at the picture of her Pomeranian hybrid.

“Aww, how adorable,” You can’t help but grin, happy that your friend found someone she enjoys spending her time with.

“Y/N!” Jihyo suddenly exclaims, “Maybe I can bring Sana over on Friday? She’s been dying to see you again,” You mull it over for a second.

You do really want to see Sana and Jihyo, and since your cat pretty much lives under the couch you’re sure an hour or two will be fine. Sana seems to sweet and quiet that you don’t think it’ll be much of a problem even if she is a dog hybrid.

“Sure!” You agree, happy to spend some more time with your friend.

The moment you step inside your apartment after work, you’re sure you see a black tail hurry around the corner.

“I’m home!” You call out, but the silence that greets you feels heavy and uninviting, and you suddenly feel more alone than what you did before when you were actually by yourself. You quickly shed your shoes and your coat, briefly slipping into your bedroom to pull on some more comfortable clothes.

You’re hungry; the lunch you brought today definitely wasn’t enough to keep you sated until work was over. You quickly fry up some vegetables and meat, mindful to keep away from any seasoning. Your cat has made it clear it’s not eating the cat food Yeonjun gave you, and so you’ve been letting it eat some of your own food until you can get him something else.

Once you’re sure the meat has cooled down enough, you slip some on to a plate, bringing it into the living room. You’re about to place it down under the couch when you hesitate. If you keep doing this you’re sure it’s only going to get harder to get to know your cat, and that’s not what you want to happen.

So you carefully place it a little further away, so that your cat needs to take a few steps out to eat it. You hurry out to the kitchen to grab your own plate, and when you return, you find your cat halfway out from under the couch, golden eyes trained on you as he eats.

“I’ll stay over here kitty. Take your time,” You make sure to sit on the other side of the couch, giving you cat some space while still being close. You turn on the TV, getting more and more absorbed in the show as your dinner grows colder.

You eat absentmindedly, the plot too interesting to tear your eyes away from. So it comes as a surprise when you move your hand to pick up your fork, but your fingers come into contact with soft fluffy fur instead.

You eyes snap down in panic as you find your cat looking up at you with wide eyes, a piece of meat caught between its teeth. Your fingers twitch involuntarily at the feel of fur against them, and the motion seems to remind your cat suddenly as to why it doesn’t like you.

Its ears flatten against its skull, and you can practically see the murder written in his eyes before he jumps down and crawls under the couch again. You don’t realize you were even holding your breath until your lungs start burning, and you drop your outstretched hand into your lap as you gulp down air.

You stay in the living room for a little while more, ignoring the disgruntled noises coming from the floor as you finish your show.

“Night kitty,” You say as you turn off the lights, hurrying down the hallway to your room and closing the door behind you. You can still feel the brush of fur against your fingers even after you’ve gone to bed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Even if touching him was an accident, he has still started to feel comfortable enough around you to take the risk to steal your food, and that has to count for something.

Nothing really changes between you and your black menace until Thursday evening. You have been tiptoeing around your apartment all week, apparently the cat’s mood has only soured after you accidentally touched it, and you have no idea how to make it better.

It’s grown colder outside as well, and you can only hope that your cat at least sleeps on top of the couch when you’re not there. You’ve taken to laying out some blankets on the floor, just in case. Work today was particularly exhausting, and curling up on the couch with a blanket and some mindless television watching sounds like dream come true. So that’s exactly what you do as soon as you get home and finish dinner.

You’re skipping through channels until you find something mildly interesting - a documentary on hybrids. The narrators voice is soothing, and it doesn’t take long before you start drifting off, feeling comfortable and full after your dinner. You vaguely listen as the soft-spoken voice tells you about hybrids habits, almost lulled completely to sleep before you feel the slight dip in the cushion near your feet.

You’re so far gone that you barely pay it any notice, not even when you feel the presence getting closer and closer. You’re on your back, head tilted to the side as you watch the TV through half-lidded eyes as something steps on your stomach.

The blanket you have over you is so thick you can barely feel it, but you catch a dark mass out of the corner of your eye. He thinks I’m asleep, you realize, just as you suddenly feel a weight drop down on your body.

You don’t move, afraid that you’ll scare him now that he finally seems to have gained some confidence and trust in you. Your neck is starting to cramp from the awkward position, but you refuse to move, opting to just watch him get comfortable out of the corner of your eye.

You count to two hundred in your head after the moving stops, and turn your head the slightest bit just to make some of the pain go away. Golden eyes blink open immediately, staring you down as you look back at your cat.

“Comfy?” You ask, slowly reaching your hand to see if he'll let you pet him. You feel claws digging into the fabric despite the thickness when he notices your hand, a hiss rumbling in his chest until you drop it back down.

“No touching. Got it,” You mumble, somehow feeling a little chastised. You almost feel shy having him so close, especially when your cat won’t stop looking at your face, almost as if he’s scrutinizing it. But that’s ridiculous, you decide, he’s just a cat.

Any trace of sleep is long gone by now, but you cat however, seems to be growing tired of his staring game, eyes slowly slipping closed with each breath you take. You can still see that he’s a little tense, but just the fact that he’s here, on top of you, warms your heart.

You watch him rest until you feel your own eyelids become heavy again. You know your back will kill you tomorrow if you sleep here, but you don’t want to wake up your kitty, not when you can provide him with some warmth. So, you fall asleep with a lighter heart than you have had in days, hopeful that maybe this will turn out better than you first thought.

Oh, if only you knew what you really had gotten yourself into.

- - - - Hello! Hope you enjoyed the second chapter of desolate! Next chapter will be Jihyo and Sana coming over to visit you and your kitty, which said black fluffball might not be so happy about .. Not when he’s just starting to warm up to you.

OT7 version is coming soon as well, so keep your eyes peeled for that :) Thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first chapter, it made me really excited to continue working on this! My inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon!

#bts #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #yoongi #cat hybrid yoongi #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #romance #fluff #angst #hybrid!bts #desolate masterlist #jihyo #sana #yeonjun

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sophrosyneadrift · 2 years

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SOUP TIME, Party Edition: Minestrone

Monday is my birthday (!!!!!), and as such I thought it would be excellent to post PARTY SOUP. This, of course, means soup that makes enough for a party--not that most of us are doing very much partying, at this juncture, unfortunately. But one can dream of a future time when such a thing might be more advisable.

Minestrone is one of those extremely versatile soups that everybody makes slightly differently. This particular recipe, from the Bakery Lane Soup Bowl cookbook, is one I am VERY fond of, and can only make when feeding a crowd. Even halving it produces more minestrone than one can feasibly eat in a week--even myself, battle-hardened leftovers-for-lunch veteran that I am--and unfortunately it doesn’t freeze very well. Once, memorably, one large-ish batch of this soup and a loaf of bread fed four hungry college students for a week straight.

Alas, I will stop reminiscing. Recipe for minestrone under the cut. Warning: it’s a long one. Party soup involves Many Ingredients.

- 1/2 pound (8 oz) great northern beans. You can use canned or dry. If you’re using dry keep in mind that you’ll need to 1) soak them overnight and then 2) cook them just covered in FRESH water until they’re tender. I just use canned, because that’s a lot of mind load for a soup that also includes so many other ingredients.

- 1/4 cup olive oil. You can sub butter for this

- 1/4 cup butter (half a stick, in the US). You can sub olive oil for this.

- 1 1/4 cups chopped carrots (I recommend chopping baby carrots. One of the half-sized packages will give you enough for this. You can also use regular-sized carrots but they require peeling, and...again, a lot of mind load)

- 2 1/2 cups chopped celery. This will be the equivalent of 4-5 stalks. WASH YOUR CELERY WELL, MY CHILDREN.

- 1 1/12 cups chopped onion (1 large onion should work for this. Again, watch out for onions at this point in time. You’re going to be cooking the shit out of these but there’s no use tempting fate.)

(At this juncture, may I make a suggestion?? If you have a food processor or a blender, this is its time to shine. Cut your baby carrots in half, cut your celery into 2-3 inch sections, and quarter your onions. Throw them all into your chopper of choice. Pulse until they’re as small as you like. Et voila.)

- 3-4 cloves garlic, crushed or chopped very finely

- 16 oz can chopped tomatoes

- 4 quarts beef/chicken/veggie stock, or equivalent water&bouillon combo of your choice

- 2 cups diced potatoes. This is usually about 2 large potatoes.

- 1 1/2 tbsp salt

- 1/4 cup roughly-chopped parsley, or 2 tbsp dried parsley

1 tbsp dried basil leaves

1/2 tsp dried oregano

1/2 pound diced cooked ham. You can use deli ham, which often comes in a handy dandy pre-apportioned container, or honestly any other ham you like. You could also use chicken or turkey in this, although if you do this you’ll probs want to add another 1/2 tsp or so of salt at the end. You can also use a 1/4 pound prosciutto if you’re feeling Decadent.

- 1 pound frozen green beans (or, like, fresh!!! I make this in fall & winter when there’s No Fresh Produce so frozen it is.)

- 1 pound zucchini or other summer squash (or eggplant), diced

- 1/2 cup dried elbow macaroni. The original recipe specifies macaroni, but you could use any type of sufficiently small noodles. Wheels would be SUPER fun in this.

- 2 cups shredded cabbage (coleslaw mix is *chef’s kiss* for this)

- Black pepper to taste

Grated parmesan cheese, for garnish

Heat your fat/oil combo in a medium saucepan over medium heat until it’s JUST hot enough to not want to hold your hand near. Add all your veggies & cook until the onions are translucent. Add garlic and toss around a little until it’s toasty.

Add tomatoes and bring to a boil. Simmer 10 min.

In a BIG soup pot (I once used a lobster pot for this and it filled it 1/3 of the way full) combine stock and potatoes over high heat. Bring to a boil, turn down the heat to medium and simmer until potatoes are just tender.

Add your simmering vegetables, beans, seasonings, ham, and green beans. Bring to a boil and simmer 20 minutes.

Add zucchini, macaroni, cabbage, and pepper. Simmer another 15 minutes.

Serve garnished with grated parmesan cheese. You can also eat this with grilled cheese, if you like, or put croutons in your bowl or dip crusty bread into it. Or just eat it plain. It is a VERY substantial meal on its own so no need to worry about getting extra food groups in there.

Makes 24-ish cups of soup. PARTY TIME.

#the wonderful world of food #soup season #soup #minestrone #news now: local cryptid chirps info the void

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statticscribbles · 3 years

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Glow

Summary: Malachai/Plus Sized!Reader Request: Soulmate au! Your heart/chest glows when you’re close to each other; angst at first.

FP assured you there wasn’t going to be any confrontation on the job. He just wanted you to track the Ghoulies movement and so far that meant a lot of lounging behind the car pretending to be waiting for someone. “You lost?” You turn scowling towards the Ghoulie who grins. “I didn’t think snakes were native to these parts.” You can feel his arm clamp down on your shoulder as he drags you closer towards the house. “Let me-“ “Don’t bother.” His laugh is the last thing you hear before you feel another Ghoulie coming up and hitting the back of your head.You’re not unconscious; you can half hear; you can’t see, they must have blindfolded you or it’s too dark where ever you are. You wonder what they could possibly want with you. You’re not particularly high in the Serpent Ranks.

“Just toss her in the back room. We’ll wait for Boss to get back.” Fuck; you think groaning as you’re literally tossed onto a bed. One of them removes the blindfold and you realize they also tied your arms. You glare sitting yourself up and resigning yourself to waiting god knows how long. You cringe at the lights; your headache growing worse; you sigh closing your eyes figuring you’re at least safe until Malachai comes back. You can hear the door opening and you’re about to glare when instead of a face all you see is a bright green glow.

“Mother fucker.” You can’t actually see who it is and the voices are overlapping thanks to the hit on the head, you resign yourself to slumping on the bed watching as the glow from your chest fades and flickers as whoever your soulmate is leaves. You frown when FP Jones appears. “Come on.” “What’re you doing here.” “You hurt your head; you’re going to the hospital. The ghouls don’t want to be responsible for your death.” “Not gonna die. Won’t let it-“ FP sighs as your chest glows again when he moves you closer to the door. “Well that makes sense. Come on; hospital. I’m not giving it away you get to find out on your own.” “My own soulmate wants to kill me now.” He shakes his head untying your arms.

“He wouldn’t have called me if he wanted you to die.” “It’s why he called you.” You sulk as he guides you out of the House of the Dead. “Come on Y/N; lets go get you checked out.” You sigh turning back to look at the procession of ghoulies standing around; none of them have the same glow as you; and you hate how relieved you are.

FP doesn’t send you on any more jobs around the Ghoulies and you spend half of the time you’d be on the jobs at Pop’s working on accounts and payments for the rest Serpents. FP assures you he’ll find out more about your soulmate for you but you don’t hold out hope; why would the Serpent King want one of his own with a Ghoul. You look up when a group stumble into Pop’s; its pouring rain and you cringes as you realize they’re Ghoulies. “Shit man you sure it’s okay to be here?” One of them questions and the other nods. “Course; she’s here. We’re safe.”

“I’m a Serpent; not a Ghoulie.” You glare as they sit down grinning. “Nah; you’re as much a ghoul as all of us.” They laugh as some private joke ordering food and you don’t bother arguing as they order something for you as well. “Thank you.” You nod to the shake and burger they push towards you. You frown when one of them hands you a burner phone. “No. I’m not doing anything for you and your-“ “It’s so your soulmate will stop whining at us. I’m pretty sure we’d all be grateful if you called. We have bets on how long it’ll take him to get his shit together and ask you out.”

“Come on you know he’ll;” You watch the ghouls slink away from you, one pushes the phone into your hand. “Please; call him.” They nod and retreat through the doors and you watch as they nervously hover at there bikes. You can see Malachai’s car pulling up and you grimace as FP’s bike swerves in front of it. “If you think you can come into our turf and pretend like you’re welcome-“ You shake your head packing everything up and starting to walk over to FP as you hear him shouting.

“Jones; calm down, they were just eating and-“ You frown as your chest glows looking to the group of Ghoulie’s who’d bought you lunch; none of them glow. You twist watching as Malachai leans against the car, his chest bright green. “Hey.” “Oh I’m so dead.” You shake your head and he laughs. “Y/N it’s fine we can-“ “No Jones nothing about this involves you.” “As leader of the Serpent’s-“ “As leader of the Ghoulies you really tryin’ tell me I can’t be near my own soulmate? You really wanna invite that war onto your doorstep?” “You’re not going to drag her to the Ghoulies; if you think I’d let one of my Serpents into your death house-“ “You don’t get to make that decision; she does.” Malachai smirks and you swallow nervously.

“Come on Y/N; you can’t be seriously considering-“ You shrug. “He’s my soulmate FP; you really want to ignore that.” “The Serpents are your family; everything we’ve done for you?” “Would it be worth it if I couldn’t be near him.” “Y/N you know soulmates-“ “They always work.” Malachai nods and hums when you step closer. “Give me a week; just that, a chance; if you decide we’re not meant to be I’ll treat you like the snake FP has you acting like. Nothing will change with how I treat you.” “And if the week works out?” “Then FP better get himself a new accountant.” He grins pulling you in by your waist; your chest’s glowing almost blindingly green before they settle to a dim light that doesn’t reach past your intwined arms.

The house of the dead is surprisingly quiet and clean; Malachai seems too excited to show you around pointing out all the trinkets and decorations he’s gathered over the years. “Wait what do you mean you go thrifting as team bonding? You bring the ghoulies thrift shopping? Like to the store? Together? Why??” You watch as he places one of the skull candle holders back on the shelf. “I like clutter; and I like dead things; thrift shops have both of those things!” “So do cemeteries.” The grin on Malachai’s face is so genuine you can’t help but flush slightly pleased at how happy your joke made him. “Do you want dinner?” “Do you cook?” You watch as he walks you towards the kitchen.

“If you want me to.” He grins and you nod assuming he’ll either confess to lying or you’ll be eating some sort of microwaved meal. “I have leftovers from yesterday; or I can cook something else up; there’s steaks and chicken also veggies if-“ “Leftovers?” “yeah we had potluck yesterday and-“ You choke coughing as Malachai watches worriedly. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Coughing?” “No being surprised when I say normal things; I’m not a big bad scary movie villain; I’m like you Y/N; well not exactly I mean nowhere near as hot as you but we get the idea yeah?” “I’m hot?” “Exactly my type actually; am I yours?” “Leftovers are fine.” Malachai shakes his head. “Answer the question before I cook you anything.” He grins and you scowl. “I can heat food in a microwave.”You lunge for the fridge, grimacing as his arm sweeps in front of you and pulls you into his chest. “Answer the question.” He hisses in your ear and you can’t help the shiver up your spine.

“Yes.” “Yes what?” He hums resting his chin on top of your head. “You’re my soulmate aren’t you?” “You can’t answer with a question.” He grins and you sigh pushing yourself closer to meet your lips together. “Still have to answer.” “FP should start looking for a new accountant then.” You laugh with him as he nods towards the bedroom.

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#malachai x y/n #malachai x you #malachai riverdale #malachai reader insert #malachai x reader #tommy martinez imagine #tommy martinez #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale request #riverdale reader insert #stattic

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

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Season 1, Episode 8: Lunatic

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Warnings: a nonconsensual kiss (very brief), angst ☹️

Notes: Boys suck. All of them. That’s it.

————————

“This is so pathetic.”

I sent Lydia a glare over Allison’s shoulder as I pulled her tighter against me. Her body trembled with another sob and I winced, rubbing her back comfortingly. I widened my eyes expectantly, and Lydia just shook her head.

“It’s your turn.” I mouthed the words silently.

With a grimace, she gripped Allison’s shoulders and peeled her away from me. She shook her slightly as she turned her around with a pointed look.

“You have got to get it together, honey.” Allison sniffled as Lydia pushed big clumps of dark hair away from her eyes. “You’re going to see him tomorrow—”

She dissolved into another fit of crying and sagged forward, until we both pulled her back upright.

“And,” Lydia continued. “You’re going to look hot while you ignore him. Okay? That’s why we’re here.”

We’d come all the way to Lydia’s house this morning to put together a pick-me-up outfit for Allison. After the whole alpha incident, the school administration was forced to close the building for a week so the Sheriff’s department could collect any leftover evidence.

There was still no sign of Derek, the janitor’s body, or the alpha.

It’d been nearly ten days since Allison last saw Scott. She’d followed through with her plan to break up with him that night, but somehow seemed more upset despite being the one to end things.

I hadn’t seen him or Stiles since then either—not that I was keeping track—but I’d gotten more than enough dramatic texts in our group chat to know that he was hurting too.

Lydia and I had spent almost every day with Allison. We were slowly trying to piece her back together, but she was a complete mess. Her and Scott had that kind of relationship where they’re just way too obsessed with each other. They like each other too much, so when they’re apart, they can’t handle it.

“You guys don’t understand.” Her voice trembled as she sniffled again and wiped at her eyes.

Lydia scoffed and flicked her strawberry blonde bangs away from her face. “Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead. He’s lucky we aren’t pressing charges, or making him pay for therapy bills.”

A frown pulled at my lips. They’d talked endlessly about how wrong it was for him to leave that night, but I didn’t agree. He’d risked his life to get us out safely. In my eyes, we should be thanking him, but Allison was stuck on the fact that he could’ve died and kind of abandoned us.

“It felt so right with him...and then, he just started acting so strange and—and now I don’t know what to believe.”

I let out a dejected sigh. I’d been close to telling her the truth countless times this week. It would give her so much clarity. She would understand why he made the choices he did. But Scott insisted that we keep everyone in the dark, and I had to respect his wishes.

I just hoped keeping these secrets wouldn’t make everything worse.

—————————

I walked through the high school, my bag slung over one shoulder. I’d gotten an insane amount of homework during the first half of the day because apparently, our teachers weren’t happy about the little break we got. I wanted to stop at my locker before lunch to lighten my load.

As I passed the main office, I saw Stiles and his dad. There was another officer and a man wearing a suit talking to the principal a few feet away from them. Stiles’ eyes found mine across the hallway and I felt a blush creep up my neck. It was the first time I’d seen him in person since that night.

We’d texted almost everyday during our time off, and even had a handful of video calls, but I still had no idea what we were doing. We hadn’t talked about us at all. I didn’t want to bring it up because, if it was too soon, I could ruin the whole thing before it even started.

“This is really important. Okay? You have to be careful tonight. Especially tonight.” Stiles’ attention was firmly planted on his dad as I walked by.

I stole a glance at him over my shoulder, frowning at the worried glint in his eyes. He was doing the thing he always did where he was freaking out on the inside but trying not to show it. My eyes lingered on the officers as I turned the corner. It was a little unsettling that they were hanging around the school. If it was back open, shouldn’t that mean the investigation was over?

And what the hell was tonight?

I’d only just gotten my locker open when Stiles materialized at my side. I jumped at his sudden presence, but relaxed when I realized it was only him.

He smiled sheepishly and hugged his bag closely to his chest. “Wanna help me with something after school?”

I let my eyes trail over his face. There was nothing new about the way he was looking at me. His honey eyes were warm, as usual, and his lips twitched upward at the corners. I searched for any indication that he may like me, that we were more than friends who kissed once, but found none.

“Will it get me in trouble?” I finally tore my eyes away from him and started putting the mountain of assignments I’d gotten into my locker.

He pulled one shoulder up into a shrug. “Not likely.”

“Is it dangerous?” I shoved my last few stray papers into the small space, grimacing at the thought of doing all that work later.

“There might be a chance of maiming. No serious injury or death, though. Probably.” I glanced at him skeptically, but instantly melted at the look he was giving me. He raised his eyebrows with a small, hopeful smile, his honey eyes rounding at the edges.

“Okay.” I sighed, and he pumped a fist in the air excitedly.

He jerked toward me so fast I couldn’t even fully process what he was doing before he planted a kiss on my cheek. I stood perfectly still and blinked a few times as I watched him turn and hurry down the hall. My lips pulled into a slow smile. Maybe there was something starting between us.

Without skipping a beat, Lydia appeared at my side. “So, you and...him?”

My eyes widened and my head whipped in her direction at the judgement in her voice. Her eyebrows were raised and she stood with one hand on her hip, the other balancing a designer bag up against her chest.

“What? No.” I said quickly, my skin warming under her scrutiny.

“Then what was that?” She pursed her glossed lips knowingly.

“A...friend kiss?” I cringed as the words came out of my mouth. That was so not the right thing to say.

“Oh, honey.” She shook her head, and was probably about to tell me what a loser he was in her eyes, when Scott walked up.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” His brown eyes were swimming with anxiety as they locked onto mine.

I noticed immediately that something was wrong with him. He was wearing his lacrosse uniform, most likely just coming back from their midday practice. That wasn’t weird by itself, except for the fact that he always showered before coming out of the locker room. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his hair was all disheveled.

“Sure.” I nodded encouragingly and Lydia walked away with a roll of her eyes.

He led me into a nearby classroom that was currently empty and shut the door gently behind us.

“What’s up?” I crossed my arms and leaned my hip against the teacher’s desk at the front of the room.

He slowly turned toward me and stopped at the other end of the desk. He drummed his fingers against the hard plastic, avoiding my eyes.

“I need to ask you something.” He mumbled, seemingly nervous.

I was a little confused by his sudden change in demeanor. He’d never been awkward or timid with me before. His eyes finally met mine and I raised my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“Do...do you think Allison still likes me?” His voice was quiet as he stuttered out the question.

Ah, that makes sense. They still hadn’t spoken. She’d been trying her hardest to stay away from him all day, despite his attempts at cornering her. It was probably driving him crazy by now.

“Of course she does.” I tried to sound reassuring, even though I didn’t know if she would ever forgive him, regardless of how dramatic that was. “Look, the whole thing just freaked her out. She was really worried about you. You risked your life for us. I’m sure she’s grateful.”

He was still watching his fingers when his shoulders suddenly tensed. He took a slow step forward, his eyes gradually making their way up to mine. I stiffened at the intense look he was giving me. His jaw ticked a few times as he continued moving closer.

“Are you grateful?” His voice was lower than normal and honestly, kind of menacing.

I took a small step back, confused by his sudden change in behavior. “Of course I am. Scott, are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay.”

He practically lunged forward to close the distance between us, one of his hands grabbing the back of my head. He yanked me toward him harshly, and before I even had time to react, his lips were on mine. My eyes widened in shock and I instantly flattened my hands against his chest.

I shoved against him as hard as I could. He staggered back a step, shaking his head as if to clear it. I stood completely frozen for a moment, staring at him in stunned silence. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand to remove any traces of him from me, my stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, McCall?” I all but shrieked.

That was wrong on so many levels. Allison—my best friend—had literally just broken up with him. We had never been even remotely intimate or flirtatious with each other. We were friends. Just friends. And I kinda, maybe, have something with Stiles.

Oh, crap. Stiles.

He stood in place, brows furrowing as he continued blinking in confusion. His hands tightened into fists at his sides before relaxing slowly.

“Scott!” I snapped, trying to break him out of whatever trance he was in.

His eyes flickered up to mine and I stumbled back a step, fear shooting up my spine. They were glowing bright yellow. He was struggling not to shift. He snarled at me, his face falling into a pained grimace as he fought for control.

“Go.” His voice was thick and guttural as his canines began elongating.

I scrambled out the classroom door, my heart racing. I was instantly swept up into the crowd of students moving through the hall, people shoving against me as I tried to get my bearings. I stumbled a few steps before finally remembering how to walk and ran a hand through my hair before glancing back toward the room.

My thoughts were a jumbled mess. What the hell just happened? Did he shift in there? That whole thing had been wildly out of character. I’d never seen him anywhere near that out of the control. He would never do something like that to me, Allison, or Stiles unless something was seriously wrong.

Right?

—————————

Stiles invited himself into Scott’s house, duffle bag in hand, and I followed closely behind. He’d barely told me what we were doing on the way, just that it was to help Scott.

I’d been on edge ever since our weird encounter this afternoon. I still hadn’t told Stiles what happened. What would I even say? I needed to talk to Scott first to see what the hell was wrong with him. It was obvious that he’d been under the influence of something, and I wanted to figure that out first.

“Scott?” Ms. McCall yelled from the family room as I closed the front door behind us.

She emerged from around the corner, wearing her scrubs. It looked like she was about to head out for an overnight shift at the hospital.

“Stiles.” He corrected from beside me, smiling sheepishly.

We weren’t exactly supposed to be here, seeing as Scott wasn’t even home yet.

“Key.” She gestured down toward the hand that held a copy he’d made awhile back—which I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised about—before moving her attention to me. “And you must be the Y/N I’ve heard so much about.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Scott had talked about me? Did that mean there was more to the kiss? Upon seeing my discomfort, she put a hand up dismissively and chuckled.

“From your mom, honey. We work together a lot.”

“Right. Obviously.” I huffed out a breath of relief.

It wasn’t her fault I was so jumpy. I hadn’t seen Scott since this afternoon, and I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. We wouldn’t be able to talk about what happened in front of Stiles, and I wanted answers sooner rather than later. Seeing him tonight was going to be awkward as hell.

“Stiles,” Ms. McCall looked at him with concern in her eyes. “He’s okay, right?”

“Who? Scott? Yeah. Totally.” He shrugged, his head bobbing as he put a little too much emphasis on that last word.

“He just doesn't talk to me that much anymore...not like he used to.” She glanced away and played with the strap of her lunch bag. I did feel bad for her, and Allison, and everyone else he was keeping this secret from. Knowing just made everything so much easier.

“Well, he’s had a bit of a rough week.” Stiles tried to reason, understanding shining in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Okay. You guys be careful tonight.”

“You too.” He pointed at her with both hands before letting them slap against his thighs. I think it was safe to say that we were both ready for this conversation to be over.

She made sure she had everything before stepping around us, and raising her eyebrows teasingly. “Full moon.”

“Uh—what?” Stiles’ eyes widened and his lips parted, panic evident in his voice.

I subtly smacked his arm and gave him a pointed glare when he glanced down at me. That had been beyond obvious.

“It’s a full moon tonight.” She looked confused by his harsh reaction. “You should see how the ER gets. It brings out all the nut jobs.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighed before smiling tensely.

She popped the front door open and turned back to us one last time. “You know, that’s actually where they came up with the term lunatic.”

With that, she was gone. The second she was out of sight, Stiles grabbed his bag and we made our way up the stairs.

“Could you have been any more suspicious?” I hissed, our footsteps against the hardwood floor the only sound in the otherwise silent house.

“Probably, if I—” He started giving me a snarky response as he opened the door to Scott’s bedroom and flicked on the light, but suddenly stopped and jumped back. “Oh my God. Dude, you scared the hell out of me.”

I peered around his shoulder and saw Scott siting in a chair in the corner of the room, staring blankly ahead. Had he seriously just been waiting there in the dark?

“Your mom said you weren't home yet.” I added, following Stiles as he walked into the room and threw his duffle bag onto the floor.

I let my eyes trail over the space quickly. His bedroom had a lot more going on than Stiles’ did. There was a dresser against the wall to my right, with a small circular rug and a beanbag beside it.

The space directly across from that was taken up by a large desk with shelves above it and another rug. His bed was in front of us, next to the chair he still sat in. Most of the walls were covered in posters and pictures.

“Came in through the window.” He drawled slowly, his voice devoid of all emotion.

“Okay...” Stiles trailed off, glancing quickly toward the window beside us before kneeling down to unzip his bag. “Uh. Let’s get this set up. Wait till you see what I bought.”

“I’m fine. I’m just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight.” Scott muttered almost robotically, still staring straight ahead with that faraway emptiness in his eyes.

“Are you sure about that? You’ve got this kinda serial killer look going on and I’m hoping it’s just the full moon taking effect because it’s really starting to freak me out.” Stiles looked up from his bag to narrow his eyes skeptically.

With a wave of realization, I finally put the pieces together. Oh, my God. How could I be so dense? It was a full moon. And Scott is a werewolf. I seriously wanted to smack myself in the face for not thinking about this earlier.

It explains everything.

“No, I’m fine. You should go now.” Scott sat completely still, his gaze still unfocused on the wall behind us.

“Alright. We’ll leave.” Stiles made a move to get up before seemingly thinking better of it. “Will you at least just look in the bag and see what I bought? Maybe you use it, maybe you don't.”

He studied Scott apprehensively when he didn't move, still crouched beside the bag. “Sound good?”

Scott considered his words for a long moment before rising to his feet slowly. I found myself taking a step back, anxiety tightening in my chest. He looked genuinely demented right now. If the full moon had made him kiss me earlier, there was no telling what he would do now. He squatted down and reached into the bag, grabbing a fistful of metal chains. He studied them before glancing up at Stiles with a scoff.

“You think I’m going to let you put these on? Chain me up like a dog?”

“Actually...no.” Stiles suddenly lunged forward, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket and latching them onto Scott’s right wrist. He shoved him back and they wrestled for a few seconds until Stiles successfully locked the other cuff onto his radiator.

He immediately pulled against it with a frustrated groan. Stiles stumbled back a step as Scott continued struggling. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Protecting you from yourself.” He huffed, running his hands down his shirt to straighten it out.

A few tense moments passed between the three of us as he tried to get free. He growled and yelled as he pulled at his wrist until it was raw.

“Stiles, please let me out.” He suddenly sagged onto the floor, his face softening. “Please, it hurts. It’s not like the first time. It’s the full moon, it’s Allison breaking up with me...”

“I can’t.” He mumbled, his eyes twitching as if the thought pained him.

I hadn't been around during Scott’s first full moon, but it must’ve been bad if they were going to these lengths now. Clearly, things could go sideways at any moment with the way he’d been acting today. I wasn't even sure what effects the full moon had on werewolves. All I knew at this point was that it almost made Scott lose control several times today.

“Come on.” Stiles glanced as me before putting a gentle hand on my back to guide me out of the room.

I wasn't sure what he was doing, but I assumed he had a plan and went along with it. Just before we stepped through the doorway, though, Scott spoke up from his crouched position again.

“Wait. There’s something you should know first.” His voice dropped back down to that gravely, menacing tone he’d used this afternoon just before he kissed me.

We both turned to look at him expectantly. A frown pulled at my lips as I noticed all traces of his usual warmth had vanished just as quickly as they’d reappeared a minute ago.

His narrowed eyes found mine and he smirked slowly. “You wanna tell him, or should I?”

My heart instantly dropped into my stomach. No. This was not the time. There was no telling how he’d spin the situation in his current state. I wanted a chance to talk it over with him first, so I knew how to approach letting Stiles know what happened.

“Scott.” I warned through clenched teeth, my anger spiking at the fact that he brought it up at all. There was no way this was going to end well for either of us.

“What?” Stiles glanced at Scott, then me, brows pinching in confusion. “Tell me what?”

“We kissed today.” He was all too happy to drop that bomb, his lips widening into a big satisfied grin.

Stiles’ head whipped in his direction so fast I worried he might've actually hurt himself. Seriously? That’s how he’s going to phrase it? I felt my nostrils flare as my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

“You mean you kissed me?” I could barely get the words out through my tightly pursed lips.

Stiles’ attention jerked back to me, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open in shock. His wide eyes flickered around my face quizzically. “Wha—so it’s true? You did?”

My heart squeezed uncomfortably at the intense look of betrayal taking over his face. I hadn’t meant to say it like that. Before I could explain, Scott chuckled darkly from the corner. “She would’ve done a lot more, too.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I took a step forward, the skin of my neck growing hot with my rising anger. He was making this so much worse than it needed to be. I had no idea what my plan was as I stalked toward him. He just needed to stop.

“You should’ve seen the way her hands were all over me.” His eyes, twinkling with mischief, followed me as I staggered to a stop in front of him.

My breath caught in my throat. I was so livid at this point that my vision had gone blurry. What the hell did he think he was doing? What was his goal? To make me look bad? To piss Stiles off?

“Yeah, to push you away, you raging dickwad!” I snapped out of my dumbfounded stupor and felt my right arm swing back on it’s own accord, preparing to slap him.

A firm hand on my wrist stopped me, and I whipped around to look at Stiles, who had been watching the scene unfold with a frightening lack of reaction. “Y/N, go wait outside.”

“What?” I breathed, my anger immediately dissipating at the hard look in his eyes.

“Please.” He hissed, his lips flattening into a straight line as his jaw clenched tightly.

I blanched at his cold tone. He’d never spoken to me like that before, and it caused a painful tug in my chest. I studied his eyes for a moment, the slew of intense emotions inside them only making me feel worse. I pulled my arm free, sending Scott one last angry glance before stalking into the hallway.

Stiles immediately closed the door after me. There was only a brief moment of silence before the yelling started.

“You kissed her? You kissed her, Scott?” I could hear his voice clearly through the thin wood. I let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the wall directly across from it.

“You know, all day I’ve been thinking...it’s probably just the full moon, ya know? He probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow, he’ll be totally back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch, a freakin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend!”

I winced as his voice got louder with each insult. I hated that he was so upset. Scott had gotten exactly what he wanted. I was sure he didn't mean it, that it was just the full moon talking, but I didn't give a shit about that right now. He’d just ruined any chance I had with Stiles in a matter of seconds.

A moment later he shuffled into the hallway and slammed the door behind him. I jumped as the sound echoed through the house, and watched him practically throw himself against the wall before sliding down to the floor. He pulled his knees up toward his chest and rested his elbows on his thighs, not even glancing at me once.

“Stiles,” I immediately took a step toward him. “It’s not what—”

“Don’t.” He interrupted, playing with his fingers between his legs and avoiding my eyes. “Just...don't.”

“No.” I scoffed, my voice rising at his stubbornness. He was not getting out of this conversation right now. “You’re going to listen to me.”

I deserved a chance to tell him what actually happened. He had the complete wrong idea about everything.

“It’s whatever, Y/N. You can kiss whoever you want. We aren’t even—it doesn’t matter.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he screwed his eyes shut and let his head fall back against the wall with a huff.

I deflated, my heart sinking into my stomach.

It’s whatever? It doesn’t matter?

All of my anger was quickly replaced with heavy sadness at his dismissal. It was all a stupid misunderstanding. I glared at the door beside him, my jaw clenching in frustration. I hadn’t even done a damn thing wrong. It was all Scott. He’d ruined everything.

“I’ve got it from here.” Stiles suddenly muttered as he dropped his head into his hands.

I stared at his crumpled frame in shock. He was really asking me to leave?

“Fine.” I scoffed, anger masking the uncomfortable hollowness in my chest. “You don't wanna hear my side? That’s just fine.”

I turned on my heel and hastily stomped down the stairs. At this point, I just wanted to get as far away from here as possible. I made sure the front door was closed behind me and forced a hand through my hair once I made it to the sidewalk. I huffed out a breath against the chilly night air and watched as it condensed a few inches away.

God, this night had taken such a bad turn.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket as I felt it vibrate, and instantly stopped when I saw the notifications I’d accidentally ignored. I had five missed calls and ten texts, all from Allison.

I dialed her number quickly without even looking at the messages. She picked up on the second ring.

“Oh my God, Y/N! What are you doing?” I had to pull the phone away from my ear as she yelled angrily.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She’d never blown my phone up like that before, so something was obviously going on.

“I just—I didn’t know who else to call. We were at the mall and...and my car died.” Her voice was trembling as she rushed the words out.

“Okay? What are you freaking out about?” I was beyond confused. There was no reason she should be having a panic attack over a dead battery.

“Because...” She trailed off, falling into a harsh whisper. “Something is on top of the car.”

My eyes widened, and I started speedwalking toward my house. No sane animal in Beacon Hills would jump onto a car like that. There was really only one thing—or person—it could be.

The alpha.

“Okay. Stay in the car. I’m coming.”

I hung up and shoved my front door open, instantly bolting to the dining room table where I knew moms purse would be. Luckily, it was an off night for her. I rustled through her bag hastily, easily finding the blue lanyard with her keys on it within seconds.

“Allison needs a ride! I’m taking the car!” I called over my shoulder, not wasting any time waiting for her response.

I rushed out the door, letting it slam behind me. I fumbled with the keys, my hands starting to shake slightly. I realized with a jolt that I was scared. Terrified, actually. If the alpha really was there, what would I even do? I’d already come face to face with the thing two times. I don’t think I’m lucky enough for a third.

I had nothing to defend myself with, either. No supernatural strength or quick reflexes. No weapons. I didn’t even have a damn bat.

My gaze swept over to Scott’s house as I heard his front door open harshly. I stopped walking again as I watched Stiles scramble out the door toward the driveway. His head turned in my direction, as if feeling my stare on his back, eyes twitching as they locked onto mine.

They were always so expressive. Right now, their normal warm color had darkened and they were a little glassy, as if he’d been crying. I wished I couldn’t make out his sadness so clearly, the sight making my heart clench with a dull ache.

His lips rolled inward as he visibly deflated with a heavy sigh before turning away from me and climbing into the Jeep. I shook my head and jumped into moms car, almost forgetting that I was supposed to be in a rush. I shoved the key into the ignition and peeled out of the driveway.

A few minutes later, I stopped beside Allison’s car in the mall parking lot. She and Jackson were leaning against the open hood and—wait, Jackson?

I quickly parked and jumped out, looking around for any signs of the alpha. Allison practically sprinted to meet me halfway, immediately engulfing me in a tight hug. I blinked, confused by the overly affectionate greeting, but eventually wrapped my arms around her.

I let my eyes wander to Jackson over her shoulder. He stood there with his arms crossed over his neatly ironed button-up, his face a perfected mask of boredom.

I gripped Allison’s biceps and pulled her away to give her a hard look. “I said to stay in the car.”

“I know.” She nodded tearfully. “But we couldn't...I just had to see if it was still there.”

“What were you guys doing, anyway?” I kept my gaze firmly planted on her face, silently asking the real question: what are you doing with him?

She swallowed nervously and just stared back at me with big, guilty eyes.

“Shopping, obviously. Can we go now?” Jackson pushed himself off the car and slammed the hood down.

My eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. I was so not in the mood for him right now. I’d already dealt with two too many jerks for one night. He raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge and I just turned on my heel to climb back into the driver’s seat. I wasn’t feeling up to another fight yet.

They got in after me and I held onto the steering wheel tighter than necessary as I scanned the parking lot one last time. I glanced at Allison as she buckled her seatbelt beside me.

“What about your car?”

“I’ll worry about it tomorrow.” She sighed and wiggled around, trying to get comfortable.

Whatever. That was good enough for me. I started the car, but froze with my hand still on the keys as my stomach twisted uncomfortably. I glanced out the windshield, then my window, but saw nothing.

My skin prickled with the feeling that we were being watched. My eyes flickered around the parking lot once again. It just felt like something was...wrong. But I couldn’t place it.

“What is it—oh my God!” Allison shrieked as something landed on top of the car with a thud.

My head whipped in that direction, afraid it had left a dent from the force. There was a clunk clunk clunk as whatever it was walked around, the car shaking with each heavy stomp.

“Y/N. Drive the car.” Jackson ordered quickly from the back.

My eyes met his in the rearview mirror and I was surprised to see how scared he looked. He had each hand firmly planted on the seats beside him, his eyes wide and glistening. I’d nearly forgotten how shaken up he’d been after the video store incident. He was probably even more afraid of the alpha than I was.

“I don’t think that's a good idea.” I breathed, fingers clutching the steering wheel so hard I was sure it would break off any minute.

A dark mass fell onto the ground beside my window, the car jostling with its departure from the roof. I peered down and instantly recognized that it was Scott in full werewolf form. My eyes widened and I scrambled to throw the car into reverse.

“Yeah. Okay. We’re leaving.”

There was no way I could let either of them see him like that. I may still be furious with him, but I also didn’t want to deal with the consequences of them finding out right now. I’d barely gotten my foot off the break pedal when Scott roared loudly and ran off into the trees.

Allison’s hand slapped onto my wrist as I still held onto the gearshift, her manicured nails digging into my skin. “What was that?”

Jackson shuffled toward the passenger side window in the back, looking out into the darkness with furrowed brows.

“It looked like...like an animal.” He said slowly, as if putting together a puzzle in his mind.

“It was probably an animal, then.” I breathed, once again lifting my foot to finally get out of here.

“Wait! I saw something.” Jackson popped the door open and I slammed on the breaks for the second time.

He crawled out, and I instantly parked the car again. I huffed out an annoyed sigh and unbuckled my seatbelt. I couldn’t let him go over there.

“Stay here.” Allison froze beside me, just about to undo her seatbelt. “Please.”

I quickly caught up with Jackson, just as he neared the edge of the woods. Rustling sounded from within the foliage and I squinted to try and see what—or who— it was. Then, I noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes only a few feet away. My heart leapt into my throat and I grabbed Jackson’s arm before pulling him back roughly.

“What?” He barked, clearly annoyed at my manhandling.

“We should split up.” I rushed the words out, glancing back into the woods to see the eyes moving closer. “I’ve got this. You go check over there.”

His green eyes narrowed skeptically before slowly sweeping toward where Scott was. They moved back to me, shining with distrust, but he nodded. I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally turned and walked away. I looked back to the car to make sure Allison was still inside before turning back toward the trees.

I took a few tentative steps, glancing around to make sure that no one else was near me.

“Scott?” My voice was a harsh whisper as I tried to see through the thick plants in front of me.

I focused on slowing my breathing as my heart raced in my chest. My hands started trembling and I clenched them into fists at my sides. I wasn’t exactly afraid of Scott, but he’d proven several times today that he didn’t have control. There was no telling what he was capable of right now.

I lost sight of his eyes and paused.

“There’s nothing.” Jackson called from my left, and I turned to see him walking toward me with a disappointed scoff.

A low growl directly in front of me had my breath catching in my throat. My eyes twitched to the side, the rest of my body paralyzed by fear. Almost too quickly to see, a clawed hand wrapped around my shoulder before shoving me forcefully.

I felt my feet leave the ground as I flew back, landing on the hard asphalt several yards away. My right hip took the brunt of the hit, and I groaned in pain as I slid across the ground for a few seconds. The uneven pavement bit into the skin of my palms as I tried to stop myself.

I turned them up toward my face as I finally skidded to a halt, wincing as fresh blood shimmered under the orangey parking lot lights. I frowned, brushing tiny rocks out of my skin before glancing back toward the trees.

He pushed me.

With fucking werewolf strength.

My eyes immediately found Scott at the edge of the woods, staring at me with a murderous glint in his glowing eyes. He took a step forward and I let out a shuddering breath, trying to scramble backward despite the pain radiating throughout my body.

Before he could make it far, a large shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. I realized with a start that it was Derek.

So he wasn’t dead after all.

He stalked toward Scott with clenched fists and a terrifying snarl. He gripped the sides of his jacket before hurling him back into a nearby tree.

“Holy shit. What the fuck.” Jackson was suddenly at my side, grabbing my arm to pull me up from the ground.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the two werewolves as they began fighting.

What the hell just happened? Was he going to kill me?

My hip throbbed harshly the second I put weight on my right leg. I winced, stumbling over slightly, and Jackson wrapped a supportive arm around my waist. He hauled me against his side and started dragging me back to the car.

“What the hell was that?” He yelled too loudly in my ear, panic clear in his voice.

I had no idea what to say. My mind was racing. I couldn’t expose Scott but, seriously, what the fuck? If Derek hadn’t shown up, I don’t know if I would be standing here right now. Was Scott really that out of control?

“Y/N! Are you brain dead or something? What was that?” Jackson demanded as we finally made it to the car.

He dropped me against the hood, Allison meeting us halfway. Her eyes were wide as they scanned me from head to toe.

“That was insane! Are you okay?”

“Not important.” Jackson practically shoved her out of the way to stand in front of me. “Did you see it? What did it look like?”

“I—” My mind went completely blank. “I don’t...”

“Lay off.” Allison sent him a glare and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders before pulling me in close.

“No. You know what, you’ve been acting really weird lately.” He wagged an accusatory finger at me. “It’s—it’s like you know something and aren’t telling us.”

Was he serious right now? I was just thrown twenty feet in the air by a fucking werewolf and he wanted to confront me about keeping secrets?

“You’re one to talk.” I hissed with a glare, reaching my boiling point after everything I’d been through tonight. “Get that neck checked out yet?”

He squared his shoulders, face paling at my words. Yeah, I hadn’t forgotten about his weird reaction to the alpha at the school. He’d been more normal lately, but that didn’t mean something still wasn’t up with him.

“Look, can you guys just fight on the way home? Please? I really don’t want to be here anymore.” Allison pleaded from beside me.

Jackson’s jaw ticked as we continued glaring at each other. She was right. We shouldn’t stay here with two werewolves fighting in the woods nearby. I pushed myself off the car with a grimace and gave her a nod. Damn, my leg hurt. A stabbing pain radiated down from my hip with each step I took toward the driver’s seat.

I popped the door open, ready to climb in, but stopped when I heard a noise from the trees behind me. My head instantly turned in that direction, but I saw nothing unusual through the darkness.

With a tired sigh I slid inside the car and started the ignition, Jackson and Allison already buckled in and ready to go. I cast one final glance toward the woods, my stomach twisting with worry.

As I pulled out, a long howl echoed through the night.

Episode 7, Part Two Episode 9

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aloesarchives · 4 years

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Gaolang Headcanons

(A/N):Sorry this took so long, I recently had a writer's block that made me really unmotivated to write. Another reason that it took so long was because I made the reader have a background that would’ve made it oc like, which I usually tend to stay away from. But after so pep talk with a friend and remembering this is my blog, I decided to say fuck it and write to self-indulge in my writing more and write this headcanon(what I mean is appearance is up to you but things like job occupation would be up to me. And also literally after eating ice cream, the thought of writing came back and here I am. Plus, who wouldn’t dream of being able to fight(doesn’t mean fighter) and kick ass in the Kengan series? If you said no, you lying.

(Edit July 1 2020 2:44am: Okay so Tumblr glitched again where my posts having been showing up on me blog and just disappeared from the search so I had to repost them again, I apologize for any inconveniences)

Word count:4257 words

But now, what many of you have been waiting for,

The Man, the myth, the legend himself,

Gaolang Fucking Daddy Wongsawat

I’ma write so much for this man you have no idea

Let’s gets two things out of the way first about this absolute unit of a man right here: Gaolang Wongsawat

First things first, Gaolang is literally a man of few words. He’s not mute, of course, it’s just he’s more of a man that speaks when spoken to. However, it doesn’t mean you start and carry every conversation the two of you have. Gaolang is always listening to you when you speak even though he’s not looking at you. He just gives you a short reply or answer when you ask him certain things, not a a tired or agitated response but more of them not pushing an agenda into the conversation unless needed so.

But when it’s just the two of you and a silent falls in between, it’s unsurprisingly serene and pleasant. Like the silence and energy that Gaolang gives off doesn’t make you uncomfortable or awkward, which is ideal when you both don’t want to talk because you’re either tired and lean on Gaolang, or when words aren’t needed in the moment and you silently enjoy each other company. He’s one of the few people to be able to not talk much and make the air not feel unbearable.

Second, Gaolang is a man of honor. With his status in Thailand and being the bodyguard of King Rama XII, Gaolang doesn’t use his status to prey on others/ those who are weaker than him. He deems that as cowardice and dishonorable so he doesn’t really want to cause trouble for King Rama and you.

Now with that out of the way, let’s got on it with this man, shall we?

TBH, you could’ve met Gaolang anywhere so it’s up in the air how you guys met.

The apartment is always clean and nice since Gaolang cleans up the place once or twice a week. You do you part around the house, of course, to keep it clean when Gaolang isn’t home, especially when he’s out for his boxing matches and championships for heavyweight. But Gaolang has a particular way of keeping the apartment clean and gets kinda of passive aggressive when something isn’t cleaned properly.

You two mostly split doing the chores in the house, like you vacuum and he does the dishes for the week and it would switch every other week. The only chore Gaolang just leaves solely up to you is the laundry. This is due to him not wanting to mess up any of your clothing when he’s washing them so you do both of your guys’s laundry. Plus, Gaolang doesn’t have that much of a diverse closet so washing his clothes isn’t much of a hassle.

Cooking wise, you mostly leave it up to Gaolang b/c face it, Gaolang is the better cook between the two of you, no offense mate. But Gaolang’s cooking smacks so hard you don’t eat out/get takeout anymore unless you’re craving some of that Thailand street food, which he doesn’t mind as long as it’s not frequent. But fam, why go out when Gaolang’s cooking is so good?

Domestic life with Gaolang is honestly lovely, holy shit. Like it’s pure bliss and wonderful. Usually it goes like this:

Every morning, Gaolang usually wakes up earlier than you which you don’t mind. He gets dress but doesn’t put on his dress shirt on until he has to leave for work. While you get ready for the day and freshen up, he already made coffee(if you drink it) and is cooking breakfast. When you’re done and walk out of the bed room, you already greet him good morning where you either hug him from behind or give him a good morning kiss( but the second one is always your go to). The tv is on in the background and you sip your drink as you watch what’s currently on. Gaolang calls out saying breakfast is ready and you two eat at the table. Once down, dishes are put into the sink and after a few minutes, Gaolang has to leave for work. He puts on his dress shirt, grabs his blazer, and while he’s tying his tie you’re at the door to bid him a good day at work. Once he’s finish and has put on his shoes on, you wish him a good day along with a kiss as you wave him off. Once you hear the door click, you knew it would be awhile until he comes back home. Your job allows you do work at home so you’re always in the apartment. Once done, you would clean the place, do the laundry, run a couple of errands, or relax. For lunch you have leftovers that Gaolang cooked the day before in the fridge. Afterwards, you do stuff to let the time pass whether it be productive or not. You know Gaolang is home by the clicking of the door and his voice saying “I’m home”. You give him a welcome back kiss and asked him about his day while holding onto his blazer to be later stemmed. He just said it was normal and nothing of the sort. However, there was one time he told you fought someone who tried to claim he’s spot as his majesty’s bodyguard but by the look of things you can assume Gaolang won. While you put away his blazer, he ask you about your day which you reply with the usual that you say. Right away, you and Gaolang start making dinner for the evening. Gaolang is at the stove while you cut up the meat and vegetables and handing it to them when you’re done. Washing your hands, you set up the table and waited until he was done. Dinner mostly has minimal talking because it’s eating time but Gaolang will answer you if you ask him something. The aftermath of dinner is mostly compromise of cleaning the dishes, the table, counter tops, and putting away the left overs in the fridge. Then it’s off to the bedroom where the two of you get ready for bed. You always let Gaolang go first into the bathroom to do what need to do since he’s quick. Once done with both of your nightly routines, you two head off for bed. You always give him a good night kiss before sleeping and Gaolang has an arm around you as the two of you sleep.

There are very few times where you wake up first: when he gets the day off, just got back to Thailand from weeks abroad for championships and matches, or from a hefty training session. However, this is mostly uncommon to happen as Gaolang is a early bird.

Sleepwise, Gaolang doesn’t really snore. He’s a quiet sleeper, however, he leans in more of moderate- lighter sleeper where heavy stirring and noise can bring him out of sleep. But it does take some minimal effort to wake him up. Gaolang is the type of person to face away you the two of you would fall asleep but when you wake up his body is facing you and his arms are caging you in. I can see him also being the type of spouse to carry you into your bed if you fell asleep on the couch or while working, Gaolang is more than welcome to carry off to bed, hell he’ll tuck you in and give you a forehead kiss.

This man will HOLD you in your sleep, fucking on cloud 9, sis. And you never felt more safe and comfortable in your life.

Gaolang doesn’t talk a lot when eating, but again he won’t shy away when you’re talking/asking him something.

Straight up, Gaolang loves to watch those soap operas/Asian dramas, it’s sort of his guilty pleasure. When you found out about it, you didn’t really judge him for it because you actually liked the series he was watching. He was a little bit anxious when you didn’t say anything but relaxed when the only words you said to him was “Gao, scoot over this is getting interesting.” Like he’s motionless and his face barely contorts when the plot begins to thicken but you can tell he is enjoying the show.

It would be untrue if you didn’t at least have some encounter with Saw Paing. God, I can imagine as soon Gaolang leaves for work and you have the apartment to yourself, then the next thing you know there’s a Burmese man in his 30′s outside of your window and he’s screaming at the top of his lungs what seem to be your beloved names. Two thoughts are running through your head as you’re just staring on at this man: #1- Who the hell is this man and how does he know Gaolang? and #2- How in the hell was he able to climb up to you and Gaolang’s high rise apartment? After you let him in through one of your windows, the man was quite surprise because he hasn’t seen you before, or more rather in the apartment. He asked you who were you, when you said you’re Gaolang’s wife, he was shock and kind of ecstatic to know that Gaolang has gotten himself a spouse. The first thing you took note was his loud and constant yelling; however, when you’re talking to him in the apartment, he dies down his voice and doesn’t yell. He somehow manages to leave the apartment and miss Gaolang arrival from work. And when Gaolang comes home and asked about your day, he’s slightly intrigued when you said you made a new friend. As soon as you mention Saw Paing, you see Gaolang’s face slightly grimace as he let out an annoyed sigh. He apologizes for his behavior and for you not to say sorry for causing it. After he explains his history with Saw Paing, you now understand his reaction. Gaolang is kind of happy for you to be friends with Saw Paing because at least Saw Paing gets to hang out with you and not bother him whiles he’s trying to live his life with you. Surprisingly, when you became friends with Saw Paing, he won’t barge into your guys’s apartment or yell anymore, most of the time that is. But it’s all good with Saw Paing being and Gaolang doesn’t mind as long as he is minimal involvement in it.

Saw Paing is your buddy, fam. It’s bound to happen.

You do fight but it’s more on the side and a hobby you do. Unlike Gaolang, who does this as a profession, you do this as more for fitness and self defense. You’re not as powerful as Gaolang, but you can handle yourself enough where Gaolang doesn’t have to worry about you going out without him. The two of you spar and train together when given the time but during the small sparring Gaolang goes easy on you because he doesn’t want to hurt you.

King Rama every now and then would ask Gaolang about you. Rama is pretty much Gucci with Gaolang so it doesn’t really bug him. King Rama is one of the few people that knew about you being with Gaolang, so yeah. He was intrigued by the fact that Gaolang subtle mentions you the first time he asked him. Over time, Rama listen to his royal subject and bodyguard as Gaolang talks about you, he just wants Gaolang to spill the tea. Although it’s very hard for many people notice, King Rama notice a slight soften in Gaolang during those moments. The fact that you were able to make a dent in the stoic Thai God of War was more than enough for Rama to have a reason to meet you. He was curious on who you were to able to do that to Gaolang. Then queue the day you were invited by the King of Thailand himself to have a simple small meeting. You had no idea why the King wanted audience with you, but you knew you had to go b/c it would be rude if you didn’t. You told Gaolang that you had to leave early to go somewhere and he thought nothing of it. You also didn’t tell Gaolang about it cause you assumed he knew about it. For some reason, King Rama keep things simple and asked you to walk around the palace’s garden, contrasting his extravagant behavior. Being the charismatic person he is, you’re not intimidated by him and answer his questions truthfully. After listening to your replies and responses, especially ones about Gaolang, he now understands why Gaolang took interest to you, you’re unique in the sense that you’re a blue diamond. Matchless, rare, and unlike any other, not in the way you shiny above everyone since you blended into the crowd, but once they have stumble upon and get to know you there’s no turning back from there. Just the imagine the shock on Gaolang’s face when he gets to work and sees you talking to his majesty. He was curious and a bit scared that you were talking to Rama but after a short exchange of laughter it disappeared. After you spotted Gaolang and the two of you walked towards him, Rama stated the two of you had a little chat and that you were heading on your way. Once Gaolang responded with a head nod, you bow to the King and wave bye to Gaolang as you go for the rest of the day. Soon as you’re out of sight, King Rama comments to Gaolang that you’re a hidden gem and told him to take good care of you. And Gaolang being Gaolang, smiles and fulfills his duties given by his king.

King Rama, low key, wants Gaolang to settle down because, I’m gonna be honest, he deserves it. Like Rama is vigile and gives Gaolang days off so he can spend time with you, this includes when Gaolang has boxing matches and championships too. He just wants Gaolang to slow down in life and spends his life with you without stress or worry.

King Rama implicitly ships you and Gaolang but you didn't hear it from me.

You definitely have run into King Rama during Gaolang’s boxing matches. Speaking of which, you always watch his matches. Whether it be at home or in the actually stadium. you make sure you were watching every single one of his fights. It’s enthralling to watch him fight, like his infamous Flash of 13 jabs is something that never cease to amaze you. Having won 4 heavyweight championship, you’ve never really doubted him and his abilities one bit. During one of his championship, King Rama was actually present and invited you to join him in the VIP lounge to watch Gaolang. The fight was intense but Gaolang came out victorious and won with a knock out. It was one of the most amazing things you have every seen as the crowd roared at the win and King Rama allowed Gaolang to take a 5 day rest as his fruitful victory.

There are times where you’re either at the entrance of the ring or inside the locker room to wish him luck. The most he’ll accept is a hug and a kiss on the cheek, that’s it. But he does flash you a smile before going out there.

Without a doubt, Gaolang is a very private person, except to you of course. Like Gaolang doesn’t reveal much of his home life to the public to keep the paparazzi away. He likes to keep the his work life and home life extremely separate. Your relationship with him and even your own existence is unknown to the public, THAT’S how private Gaolang is. And a little bit of help from King Rama as well.

Gaolang is not much of a confrontation man, but will confront and be straightforward with you when something is wrong with/bothering you.

He’s also is an observant person, you could tell by the way he analyzes opponents so he at least can read you and situations at home.

Due to this, he is very good a giving compliments. Not the super cheesy one, it’s usually the simple ones, and those are the one that get you all the time.

He has a chill personality, calm and collected, he’s not the type to jump the gun on assumptions. The man trusts you, fam.

It’s really hard to make Gaolang mad. He gets annoyed and aggravated, yeah, but it’ll never escalates to him being furious. Gaolang knows how to manage his emotions and has never really been irrational or lashed out before. The only time you ever saw Gaolang lose his composure was when he yelled at Saw Paing. And that moment, right there, was terrifying to you because you never seen Gaolang lash out before. So you do your best to not push his buttons too much.

Gaolang lets you do your own thing because he understands that you have your own life and do things on your own accord. Not much of a controlling person, far from you. But Gaolang doesn’t understand why you have a job when he makes a reasonable salary for the both of you to live off on. When you told him that you wanted to contribute to society and not rely on him for everything, and you also said you like to have save pocket money. Gaolang respects your answer and kinda likes that you take accountability for yourself.

Jealousy is something that Gaolang knows about and doesn’t really feel, but more rather avoid. Gaolang is comfortable in his own skin and abilities to know that you will not betray him and leave him for someone else. And it’s obvious when you’re not interested in anyone other than Gaolang and tell people off when they hit on you. But what really aggravates him is when the person can’t take a goddamn hint when you tell them off or deny any of their advances on you. Especially if it’s a scumbag of a guy. But Gaolang can’t be irrational due to him having a public image to uphold so he has to logical and clear minded. So Gaolang rational annoyance is rising in level, like his stare goes hard, his aura becomes daunting, anyone who’s near him fear like they would shit in their pants if they ever had to face Gaolang in such a state. You kept telling the guy that your husband/boyfriend wouldn’t be happy if he keep up his behavior with you. Then the man mocks about your lover and asks who is the lucky guy. Then queue my man Gaolang standing behind him and saying it was him and Gaolang was with you. After commenting that Gaolang was your boyfriend/lover, you were humored by the guy’s reaction. The man went pale, apologized to the Thai God of War and was out of sight from then. I don’t know who said it, but I think it was @bokutosbiceps (follow them, they have really good Kengan writing pieces.) that Gaolang goes into a state of grumpiness, which I can totally see. He be like this for what, like a week at max, and this is where everyone just stands clear of Gaolang and try to not get on his bad side. Like even Saw Paing doesn’t come over when he encountered Gaolang’s grumpiness, it’s that bad. Again, he knows that you won’t really leave him because he trust you won’t be that disloyal to him. But the only way to pull him out of that slump is excessive amount of words of affirmation from you and a simple promise that you’ll never leave him. But even after pulling him out of his grumpy pants state, Gaolang acts more of a bodyguard just in case a similar case happens again. If the person/people/guy tries their luck with you then it’s over for them and they will really die, literally Gaolang goes into Thai God of War mode and it ain’t pretty. But overtime, when incidents happen like that, his reaction is less elevated every time due to your unwavering loyalty to him. Jealousy is not foreign feeling to Gaolang but he tends to stay away from it as much as possible.

Seriously, imagine leaving Gaolang for someone else. Sis/fam not only are you a damn circus act, that’s a literal downgrade on so many levels. Like why? I’ll personally find you, smack your forehead, and lecture you why that was a bad move.

I mean, everyone does stay clear on bothering you in general. But after that incident where Gaolang reveal your relationship with him, then people really know to actually stay on your good side. You don’t use Gaolang’s status to abuse power, of course, to get your way with things. But you do make it clear that you’re with/married to him.

However, it’s safe to say that no one messes with you when your boyfriend/husband is literally the best Muay Thai fighter, undisputed heavyweight boxing champion, and bodyguard of the King of Thailand. They’re about of clowns that really want to be humiliated. I’ll also beat them up for you fam, i gotchu

One flaw Gaolang probably has is him having basic logic/common sense but he can be easily swayed and convinced on things he doesn’t have prior knowledge on. The man’s open up to new things, it’s more of him acting like a dumbass for a bit.

God, the horror of seeing Gaolang with wrong Japanese etiquette hurts your eyes and soul. You had to reteach him a lot on these types of things. He’s a little bit embarrassed but grateful that you’re have enough patience to teach him the proper etiquette.

POWER COUPLE OF THAILAND, I’LL FIGHT ANYONE THAT DISAGREES WITH ME. YOU DESERVE TO BE WITH THIS MAN, THAT’S FINAL.

I’ma tell you something sis so you better open them ears: Gaolang isn’t the type to have multiple flings or be in many relationship. He has better things to do with his time than waste on short term infatuation. So if he chooses you, that’s speaking VOLUMES.

In other words, if you’re the one, YOU ARE THE ONE! Like Gaolang could’ve been a playboy and have anyone in the world but the man chose you. YOU’RE THE FUCKING CHOSEN ONE!!!!

Gaolang is not one to push things but he does have conversations with you that marriage and kids can be apart of the equation if you want.

Besides, who wouldn’t marry a man like Gaolang? You be missing out on so much.

Time with Gaolang is always productive no matter what since he knows how to use his time efficiently. You two go to the grocery store together and sometimes you divide and conquer in the store to save time. Being with Gaolang helps you manage your time effectively which helps you a lot.

Bruh, Gaolang’s hair is SOFT. You play with it when the two of you are laying down together and you can tell that he takes good care of his hair. Gaolang lets you do his hair, combing through it and add the bead at the end of his hair. He likes it when you do it.

I like to headcanon that the jewel on his forehead was a gift you gave him and every since you gave it to him he’s been wearing all day everyday.

Gaolang’s kisses are like angel feathers. They’re light and pure. He doesn’t really have any ulterior motive other than missing you on some work days. These are *chef kiss some of the most bless things you’ll ever have.

His hugs, fucking god send. Firm where you’re flush against him but not too tight. Gaolang’s hugs were just right. Those things make you feel safe, and all warm on the inside. There are some days where work is slow, where Gaolang just comes home and holds you in his arms while swaying back and forth. It helps him wine down and relax, transitioning into his home life with you. But hey, free hugs from Gaolang.

Another thing we need to talk about is his smile. I...god... seeing Gaolang smile is when you’ve achieved paradise. You do note that Gaolang doesn’t really smile that often. But if you ask him the right things, have a way with words and play your cards correctly, you can get him to smile and hell even a small chuckle out of him. And there’s no denying that you get butterflies in your stomach and feel warm, fuzzy, and so many positive emotions that you got to witness Gaolang smile.

His smile kills you, heart squeezes

Y’ALL can’t tell me that Gaolang’s smile right here gave you goose bumps or a shiver up your back. If you deny it, you’re lying to yourself, fam.

The man is CANONICALLY husband material, which mean the high possibility of him being a family man.

Literally best Husband, CHANGE MY MIND, I DARE YOU.

Gaolang is super soft to you, he is soft spoken to you, smiles more often around you, became more emotionally open, etc. He really does love and care about you, like a lot.

He is stoic teddy bear for you.

Thai Jesus, Done with everyone’s shit except yours and King Rama.

The most cursed images you have ever seen is that signature shocked express he has, it’s something you never really want ever.

Just living a good, satisfying, and tranquil life with Gaolang. A wholesome man of honor and loyalty, being with Gaolang is a goddamn dream you never want to wake up on.

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God this took way too long. Sorry for being gone for some time, I hit a writer’s block but it’s gone now. I finished on June 30th but stayed up until 12am to edit it. I’ma switch up the order and do Cosmo’s headcanon next. I’ll put the Gaolang oneshot on hold and actually finish my Chapter 2 for my series. This is my longest headcanon yet, and I’m tired.

Stay safe and beautiful, fam!

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #gaolang wongsawat #kengan ashura headcanons

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