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gamerwoo · 3 years

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Seventeen: The Xperiments (Part Eighteen)

Characters: Seventeen x female reader

Genre/warnings: superhuman/experiment au, angst, i don’t think there are any specific warnings in this part but if i overlooked anything please let me know!! [please read the warnings in the intro]

Word count: 2,657

a/n: things in bold are in english

Previous | Next | The Xperiments Masterlist

The hardest part of the plan might’ve been getting into the car without Jiwoo noticing. The three of you didn’t sleep all night, waiting for any sort of sign that Jiwoo was getting ready to leave to go to the lab. That was when you got out of bed and opened the door to your bedroom, rubbing your eyes liked you’d been sleeping this whole time, with a pout on your face.

“_____?” Namjoon asked, getting up from where he was sitting on the hallway floor with Jungkook. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare…” you told him quietly as he approached you. You stood a few feet outside the open doorway, giving Wonwoo enough room to slip out while he was invisible. “Can I sit with you and Jungkook for a little while?”

“Of course,” he nodded before guiding you to sit with the younger boy in the hallway.

“Can we sit by the window at the end of the hall?” you wondered. “I like looking at the stars in my room.”

“Sure,” Jungkook said as he got up to move with you and Namjoon to where you wanted to sit.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but it was still dark outside. Jiwoo was downstairs, making last minute preparations before she snuck into the lab on her own to retrieve the remote. She’d already gotten the forged ID card that said she had come from the lab in Thailand. She was given a whole disguise that not only consisted of nice slacks, a button-up shirt, and a lab coat that looked similar to those who worked at the lab, but also had a black wig that was put up in a ponytail.

While you had the two boys distracted at the opposite end of the hall of Minghao’s room, making them focus on the stars outside in the sky, Wonwoo managed to sneak into the foreign boy’s room and get him out without anybody noticing. You gave them about ten minutes just to be safe before deciding you were ready to go back to sleep. Namjoon walked you back to your room and poked his head in to make sure Hansol and Wonwoo were both okay. Seeing the sleeping lumps under the blankets, Namjoon bid you sweeter dreams before closing the door.

You walked over to the window and pushed the inner frame up. You poked your head out and looked around in the darkness, waiting to see or hear one of the two boys. Sure enough, you heard a whisper of your name down below. You took the earpiece from your nightstand beside you and put it in your ear before tapping it to turn it on.

“You trust us, right?” Wonwoo asked in a whisper you could barely hear.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing this,” you replied.

You glanced behind you at Hansol still sound asleep in his bed. His face was peaceful in the moonlight shining through the window. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing that he would panic when he realized in the morning that the lumps under your blankets were just bunched-up clothing. He’d probably be in a frenzy as he called for everyone else and--

“_____?” Wonwoo asked.

You shook the thought from your head and climbed out the window onto the little ledge of the ‘roof’ of the first floor. You turned to close the window silently behind you before you sat on your bottom and scooted toward the edge. Wonwoo and Minghao stood across from each other, their arms out between them.

“Be careful, okay?” Wonwoo whispered up to you.

“Falling off a roof isn’t really careful anyway,” you quipped as you slowly stood up.

You turned around and crossed your arms over your chest in an ‘x’ shape. Then you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and let yourself fall backwards.

You landed with a huff in Wonwoo and Minghao’s arms. Your eyes opened to see the two boys looking down at you. Minghao was smiling at you, while Wonwoo seemed surprised that the two of them managed to catch you.

“That worked,” he almost asked rather than stated.

“You’re forgetting you’re not exactly human,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, but,” he frowned slightly as him and Minghao stood you up on the ground, “we’re not exactly you or Mingyu. We don’t have superhuman strength.”

“We shouldn’t stand around talking,” Minghao pointed out.

Wonwoo nodded, “You’re right, let’s just go wait by the car.”

Wonwoo grabbed both of your hands before turning invisible. You almost forgot what the weird sensation of being invisible was like, but you didn’t have time to think too much about it because he was tugging both of you to the car that was already turned on judging from the lights that were on and the running engine.

“We unlocked the car while we were in the kitchen,” Wonwoo told you as Minghao opened the trunk and the three of you piled in, laying on the floor.

Wonwoo tugged it shut, and the three of you patiently waited until you saw the lights inside turn on before hearing the door shut. Then you were moving.

The three of you laid there, unmoving, for who knows how long. Your bodies began to ache, but you refused to move to get comfortable. The last thing you were going to do was blow your cover when you’d managed to already make it this far. None of you made a single noise the entire ride that lasted until the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon.

When Jiwoo parked, the three of you waited for a moment after she closed the door and locked the car before you moved.

“Let’s go,” you said as you let go of Wonwoo’s hand, your palm warm and sweaty from holding it for so long.

You got up and climbed over the backs of the back seats before leaning toward the front. You pressed the unlock button, and Wonwoo opened one of the back doors before hopping out. You followed behind him, with Minghao being the last out. He closed the door and the three of you looked around the parking garage.

“I remember seeing the blueprints,” Wonwoo recalled, holding his hands out for both of you to take. “I know where Jiwoo headed. Let’s go.”

Invisible once more, the three of you walked to where the main entrance must’ve been. You walked quickly, wanting to catch up with Jiwoo so you could all slip in behind her. Thankfully, she was still waiting at the entrance to be let in, so the three of you stood close behind her, but still far enough for her to not feel you there.

Trying to squeeze your way into doorways that closed behind her was difficult, but you made it work. The doorways didn’t close until they sensed the people had passed through, so they never closed on you. But you were worried that the white coats and Jiwoo would get suspicious that they doors took a couple seconds too long to close.

Jiwoo followed a man around that you didn’t remember ever seeing, and you weren’t sure if Wonwoo or Minghao recognized him. They obviously didn’t say anything even if they did because somebody would surely hear it.

Being back in the lab brought back awful memories for all of you. You could feel Wonwoo’s hand shaking in yours since he spent more time there than you did, therefore had more bad memories than you. But still, being back in the labs made you want to turn around and leave. It made you want to throw up and cry at the same time. But you had to push on. You had to get that remote so Seungkwan would be safe.

Despite the urge all three of you got to turn and run straight out of the lab and never return, you continued to follow Jiwoo and the unfamiliar white coat. Jiwoo had told the man she was sent over to work there from Thailand to help the white coats recover the escaped experiments. After that, they continued to just make small talk on what things were like in the Thailand lab.

“We do have one left,” the man explained to Jiwoo after polite laughter over something she’d said had died down, “but he’s being kept isolated elsewhere.”

“Oh?” Jiwoo asked. “Is he new? What can he do?”

The pair walked through another door that required a key card. But before the three of you could walk through the door, you were being yanked to the right, the doors closing before you could hear what the man had to say. You almost shouted in protest, wanting to hear what the white coat had to say, but your eyes went from glaring at Wonwoo to widening when they saw the man that Wonwoo was now pulling you and Minghao to follow.

Dr. Yuen.

There was no doubt in any of your minds that he had the remote and was the one controlling Seungkwan. He was always the main white coat that led all of the tests performed on you. Whenever something happened, he was there. He was like their leader or something, so he absolutely had the remote or knew where it was. Wonwoo wanted to know who this mystery experiment was too, but he knew following Dr. Yuen was the key to finding the remote.

Following Dr. Yuen down a few different hallways, he came to a stop in what seemed to be some sort of security room. There were a bunch of different monitors that were labeled in the top left hand corners to say what each room was. You recognized the empty training room, and even saw that the machine that Mingyu had broken to get you out was still shattered. But you also recognized the isolation rooms and the testing rooms, all of which were empty. There were three monitors that weren’t working, showing just snowy grey and read: ISOLATION TANKS, ISOLATION ROOM 5, and LAB 3 with their translations in Korean below.

What were isolation tanks?

Dr. Yuen stood at the monitors and looked them over as he fished something out of his coat pocket. He hummed softly, placing something on the desk and letting out a soft sigh before he mumbled something about getting the cameras fixed and left the room.

But Wonwoo and Minghao didn’t move to follow.

You were too engrossed in the monitors to notice Minghao reach forward and grabbed the item off the desk. Sure enough, it was the remote that you didn’t grab when you had the chance. The two boys shared looks, smiling at their victory. Now all you had to do was get out to the car and wait for Jiwoo to come back.

“Hang on,” you muttered when Wonwoo tugged on your hand to leave.

You recognized the empty bedrooms, reading each label. They were numbers you didn’t recognize, but you could guess they must’ve matched up to each of you since they were your rooms. There were 14 of them, too.

“These must be all of the rooms in the lab,” Minghao noted.

“Big lab…” Wonwoo nodded slowly. “Bigger than I thought.”

“Because they never let us see all of it,” you replied. “We were only allowed to see certain rooms.”

Wonwoo continued to work as the middle man for translating for Minghao, so he replied, “It might’ve been dangerous to show us other parts -- dangerous for them, I mean.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

The three of you continued to look over each monitor just out of pure curiosity. But Wonwoo suddenly leaned forward, tugging both of your hands since he was still holding them.

“What’s this?” he mumbled.

The two of you leaned down to see what he was talking about.

On a smaller monitor was a black screen with white, pixelated writing. It listed all of your names in alphabetical order, but there were numbers following them in parentheses. You realized the numbers matched those on the bedroom monitors.

CHAN (1399211) X

HANSOL (1298218) X

JEONGHAN (295104) X

All of you were there, and beside the numbers, there were red x’s.

Except…

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing to the green checkmark beside one of the names.

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed, “That can’t…”

The two of you noticed Minghao’s fingertips of his free hand tapping against the desk. You both looked up to see him staring into space, his eyes focused somewhere you couldn’t see as he mumbled almost too quiet to even hear.

“Paper, paper, paper…” Wonwoo mumbled to himself as he scanned the desk, letting go of your hands.

He picked up a pad of sticky notes and a pen. He put the pad on the desk in front of Minghao before shoving the pen in his hand that was fidgeting. Minghao began drawing scribbles -- much like the ones he mimicked to try to make his fake vision seem real -- as he continued to mumble incoherently to himself.

Neither of you knew it, but seeing one of the names was what caused him to suddenly get thrown into a vision.

Minghao’s eyes re-focused a moment later, his hand freezing. He dropped the pen, grabbed a key card that was left on the desk, and immediately headed for the door, “I know where he is.”

“Where who is?” you asked as you and Wonwoo went to catch up. “There’s-- The computer can’t be right...right?”

Minghao waited by the door, holding a hand out behind him for Wonwoo to take before Wonwoo took one of yours again, “The computer didn’t make a mistake.”

“There’s no way…” Wonwoo said softly before Minghao opened the door.

Minghao walked like he’d been through the maze of halls a hundred times. He saw it all in his vision. He knew who he was looking for and he knew exactly where to go. He burned the way there into his memory because he had to get to the room he saw. His visions never lied. The computer didn’t lie.

“In here,” Minghao said quietly as he stood at another door.

He held the key card up, and the doors slid apart for you. Inside the room were large tanks in the shape of tubes. They looked like they were made of glass, but you weren’t sure if that was the case.

“These are the isolation tanks,” Minghao said as the door closed behind the three of you.

He let go of Wonwoo’s hand, knowing the cameras in here didn’t work. So Wonwoo dropped your hand too, seeing as the three of you were the only ones in there.

At least at first glance.

The isolation tanks seemed to be empty. There were at least ten of them, give or take a few more. But Minghao looked to the end of the room like he saw in his vision, and then he was running.

“Here!” he called.

The two of you looked over to him before you were running too, seeing something in the tank at the very end.

No, not something. Someone.

Someone familiar.

“Oh my god!” Wonwoo cried.

The three of you stopped at the tank, staring at the person inside. They were on their knees, their shirt removed and showing different tubes taped to their neck, arms, and torso. They looked up hearing Wonwoo’s voice, and Minghao pressed his palms against the tank.

“Minghao?” he asked in a hoarse voice as he scrambled to move closer to press his hands against the glass as well.

“Is this real?” Wonwoo chuckled, though his eyes were filling with tears. “Is this really you?”

You were speechless. This couldn’t really be him, could it? It was impossible. You knew he was dead because even some of the black masks saw it happen. The other experiments saw it happen! Wonwoo was right there when it happened!

Inside the tank, was Seungcheol.

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cutesilyo · 3 years

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i know your eyes in the morning sun — an indophil fanfic

When a homesick Indonesia is unexpectedly taken out of his meeting for a day trip in Rome with Philippines, he isn't expecting much more than exhaustion ahead of him. Instead, what happens is a whirlwind of food, fun, and a surprising amount of reflection on their histories and differences as nations. And as he looks deeper and deeper in the other nation's bright eyes, he learns to come to terms with the feelings he's been ignoring for far, far too long.

Alternatively: a nation who's too attached to the past goes on a date with a nation whose entire philosophy is built on trying to live in the moment. Yes, there is kissing involved.

Also available on AO3, FF.net

—

“Tell me why we’re here again,” Indonesia groused.

“Unofficially, it’s because I’m busting you out of that damn meeting.” Philippines grinned, his purple eyes glinting mischievously under Rome’s bright sun. “Officially, it’s because we’re on a date.”

All Indonesia could do was sigh. He had arrived in Italy two days ago for a G20 summit, and all the meetings he’s had to attend since then had left him tired and restless. It would have been easier if it was like a normal ASEAN meeting, where he was at least familiar and friendly with all the members. But in the G20, he was the sole Southeast Asian nation there, and he found it difficult to get a word in everyone else’s chaos. Most of the time, he simply preferred to keep his head down and daydream about going back home.

It was during his third-favorite daydream (a peaceful afternoon at Borobudur, dressed in gold just like the old days) that Philippines had burst through the doors with his perpetually bright eyes and cheeky smile. Before he could even process what was happening, Philippines was happily dragging him out of the room while everybody else waved them goodbye.

And that’s how Indonesia found himself in his current predicament. Outside some random pizzeria in a foreign country, dazed out of his wits, and with the one nation who got under his nerves the easiest.

He really wanted to go home.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Philippines patted him on the shoulder with a laugh, and Indonesia couldn’t help but tense uncomfortably. “It's not like this is a real date, I just made up some lame excuse to get them off my back. Besides, you were bored out of your mind there, weren’t you? I bet you weren’t even listening. You were probably thinking about your temples.”

“No,” he denied, but the other nation simply smirked knowingly. He felt his face go red in embarrassment. “Well, can you blame me? I don’t feel right around all those Westerners . . .”

Philippines just laughed at him as they walked in.

There wasn’t much to walk into. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant, but just a small family-owned business that only had two round tables to the side. Other than them, there didn’t seem to be any other customers. Different flavors of pizza were behind glass, oddly rectangular in shape rather than the circular pizzas he was used to seeing in advertisements, but their names and prices went unlabeled. Even if they were, he doubted that it would help him much; while he was steadily getting used to English, the Romance languages were an entirely different matter.

“Buonasera,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted them.

Indonesia could only nod awkwardly in response, but Philippines grinned cheerily. “Buonasera! Ciao bella, come stai?”

The two struck up a light conversation while he tried to decide what kind of pizza to get. He was used to thick-crusted, American-style pizzas, and he really didn’t see the point of eating something so expensive when a good terang bulan was always available. Besides, even if he didn’t particularly like pizza, he could see that the ones available here were an entirely different beast from the ones Pizza Hut sold at home. Much more greens and vegetables, for one.

Indonesia hoped he didn’t look too clueless when Philippines finally turned to ask him what kind of pizza he wanted. He just pointed at a random one and prayed for the best.

The other nation looked amused, but he didn’t comment any further. He just turned back to the woman and presumably rattled off their order in rapid-fire Italian that he could barely catch. They continued their conversation from where they left off, and whatever it was that Philippines was saying, it made the woman blush like a maiden. Suddenly, for a reason that he refused to name, he felt consumed by irritation.

His stony silence continued until the woman had given them their pizza, warm and each slice served in a small tray, and bid them goodbye. He’d barely given them a glance until they sat down on a bench just outside the pizzeria.

“So, what do you think?” Philippines asked him. He seemed more excited than he was. “This is your first, right?”

“I’ve eaten pizza before,” he grumbled.

“But this is different,” the other nation insisted. “This is pizza al taglio, Rome’s specialty! Come on, just start eating it already. I could hear your stomach grumbling since we left the meeting room.”

Indonesia stared at the pizza dubiously, ignoring how quickly Philippines was eating his own slice just beside him, before giving it a bite.

It was . . . good.

Not that he was going to tell the other nation that. He couldn’t bear the smug smirk that would be thrown his way.

Instead, he said, “It’s folded. It’s like a sandwich.”

“Boo,” Philippines stuck his tongue out at him. “If you must know, it’s called panino and it’s a lot better than eating it unfolded.”

“Unfolded,” Indonesia repeated. “You mean, like normal?”

Philippines gasped overdramatically. “I can’t believe you just said that! No, pizza al taglio is supposed to be eaten panino! Just ask Romano, he’ll say it's the best.”

“And I imagine if you ask Italy Veneziano, he’d say the opposite.” He took another bite, careful not to let any of the grease on his hands, and hummed appreciatively. “I think I ordered something different though.”

Philippines just laughed, a bit sheepishly. "I . . . may have taken the liberty of changing your order. The one you pointed at back there had pork sausage slices on it, so I got you something more halal. That one has arugula and mozzarella, and I know you like things a bit spicy, so I asked the lady to give you something more piccante. This slice has pepper flakes baked in the dough."

"Oh," he blinked, a bit stunned. Indonesia felt warmer than the pizza in his hands. "Terima kasih."

"Hey, as long as you're here with me, ako bahala sa'yo." Philippines stood up and grinned at him, eyes bright and his half-eaten pizza in his hand. "You know, the best thing about pizza panino is that you can eat them while we're on the go! How about we walk around the city, and I'll take you out on a real date?"

------

This was a mistake.

He and Philippines have never really hung out together much; either they only met for formal occasions or they were always joined by at least one other ASEAN member, so the chances they had to be alone were usually few and far in between. If he was being honest, it was probably better for his heart that way.

Still, he probably should've known better than to let Philippines take charge, because his definition of walking around and the other nation's idea of walking around were vastly different things. For one, he'd definitely rather be driving rather than walking anyway. It didn't help that he was still stuck in his stuffy formal suit and dress shoes, while Philippines was both comfy and stylish in his boots, jeans, and a fashionable overcoat. And though he preferred to get to his destinations as quickly and efficiently as possible, Philippines loved making stops at every little statue or shop that interested him. What's worse is that he couldn't just leave the other nation behind — between the two of them, Philippines was the only one who actually knew how to speak Italian and knew how to get around the city. His only choices were to suffer alone in a foreign land or to slowly murder his feet following Philippines around, and just this once, he'd rather swallow his pride.

"If only my motorcycle was here . . ." Indonesia sighed. "How long are you going to take?"

"Just a bit longer!" He heard Philippines shout from the back of the souvenir shop. "My neighbors would never forgive me if I didn't get them anything, you know!"

He was idly inspecting a small plastic replica of the Coliseum when the other nation emerged a few minutes later, proudly carrying about a dozen silver keychains in his hands. Indonesia couldn't stop himself from grimacing at them; in rupiahs, that was probably the cost of a plane ticket.

"You aren't going to buy anything?" Philippines said. He was fiddling around his pockets for spare coins. He seemed to have forgotten that his wallet was probably in the small leather bag he was carrying, and Indonesia didn't feel like telling him.

"Pass," he said. "I'll wait outside, if you don't mind."

Philippines shrugged, turning back to the cashier. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he stepped out into the cobblestone streets, he immediately felt restless for a smoke. The architecture, the weather, the people . . . it all just reminded him how far away from home he was. It was autumn in Italy, colder than it would ever get at his house, and with a sharp pang of his heart he realized how much he missed everyone.

He started worrying about whether Singapore had gotten enough sleep last night, because often the young nation would look at data until the sun rose, looking for where he could make himself stronger. And Malaysia got dehydrated too easily for someone with his water resources, so he always had to remind him about refilling his water dispensers every once and a while. Brunei had always been quiet, but he'd been too reclusive than was healthy these days; and even though Timor-Leste couldn't face him sometimes, he still hoped she was doing alright. He trusted Thailand and Vietnam could handle everything over at the mainland, but he couldn't help but be concerned about them anyway.

Then there was the nation he was with right now.

All of a sudden, he felt a warm breath on his neck and a whispered: "You're scaring the other tourists, mahal."

Indonesia barely held back a scream, furiously turning to face a mirthful Philippines that was clearly having the time of his life teasing him. "Would you stop scaring me like that? And don't call me mahal!"

Philippines just waved him off with a laugh. "Please, that was barely a scare. And you deserve it! I thought the way you kept staring at my bag was weird, but you meant to tell me my money was in it, right? Silly Indonesia, I can't know things if you don't actually say it."

"Don't blame me for your denseness," he shot back. "Besides, your idea of a date must be really sloppy if all you do is take me to tourist shops. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Are you saying you wanted something more romantic? Oh Indonesia, how bold of you!" Philippines looked at him slyly.

He was suddenly reminded of how difficult it could be to talk to Philippines sometimes. "I just thought you'd take me to actual places, like the Coliseum. Or maybe a castle, I don't know."

They walked together in amiable silence towards a nearby bus stop. He almost cried in relief when they finally sat down after what felt like hours of walking. Maybe Indonesia was just feeling his age, but he was not nearly as full of energy as the nation beside him.

"I know you've been to the Coliseum before, so taking you there isn't nearly as exciting," said Philippines, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. "Just so you know."

"Everything always has to be exciting for you," said Indonesia, with a huff.

The other nation winked at him. "What can I say? I love a little thrill."

He couldn't help but be amused at that. Whether it was thrill rides or thriller horror movies, Philippines was always raring to go. Still, though he was grateful, he was starting to feel a bit guilty about all the trouble he put the other nation through. He knew Philippines could be impulsive, but he didn't think he was the kind of person to drop everything and fly to Europe just to rescue him from another boring meeting. "I've been meaning to ask, but how did you end up in Italy anyway? I'd hate to think that you spent so much money just to go here."

"Don't worry! I didn't come to Europe for you," Philippines grinned brightly. "You're just a stop on the destination. I'm actually headed to Munich."

Ah. For some reason, that only made Indonesia feel worse.

"See, when I'm in Europe, I like to start by visiting the Vatican," the other nation continued. "Then Germany said that he had a meeting in Rome too, so we were planning to catch the train together. Didn't you notice that he was rushing to end your meetings as quickly as possible? It's Oktoberfest, you know."

Indonesia nodded slowly. "I guess September does end next week . . . ?"

"Dios mio," Philippines laughed. "I mean the beer festival, not the month. I'd invite you to join us but I know you don't drink."

"Even if I did, I don't think I could keep up with you and Germany," he admitted, which made the other nation's eyes twinkle with pride. "That still doesn't explain why you decided to crash the meeting."

"That's just because you weren't checking WhatsApp, which I'm grateful for." Philippines handed him his phone, which was opened to the group conversation they had with the rest of the ASEAN nations. "Here, I bet you left your phone at the hotel or something."

He did, but that was beside the point. Indonesia took the phone.

The first thing he saw was a selfie of Philippines at the airplane, snuggled up under the airline's provided blanket. Just boarded from Dubai! Be arriving at Fiumicino by morning, anything you guys want?

Abang is in Rome too, isn't he? Malaysia had asked. In that case, the both of you should bring back gifts! I need the best cheese for my sea cucumbers. Also, remember the keychains.

Singapore had sent one of his custom stickers. The merlion was sticking its tongue out.

Stop being so mean to him, or else he'll end up crying to me again, Thailand replied.

Not my problem he's a crybaby, Singapore said. Then he sent another merlion sticker.

Vietnam sent a laughing emoji, and then: You should visit Indo while you're there. You know how sad he gets when he has to go abroad alone.

Malaysia sent a GIF of a crying scene from some old movie.

Eh? But if I'm going to visit him, I want it to be a surprise! Philippines had whined. If he goes online soon, he'll already know. No fun in that.

It should be okay. He's probably asleep now anyway. And he doesn't check his phone during meetings, unlike you, Thailand pointed out.

It will be good for him to see a friendly face, Vietnam added.

Take care of him lah, Singapore had said. Make sure he enjoys himself this time.

PIRI WAIT I HAVE A GREAT IDEA, chatted Malaysia. I'll DM you just in case, so abang can't find out. He'll love it, trust me!

Oh no, said Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore in separate, individual messages, to which Malaysia simply replied with another GIF. Brunei even mustered the energy to send a worried-looking emoji.

The last message, sent earlier this afternoon, was a selfie of Philippines with a cheeky grin. He was standing just outside the meeting room, and he had sent it with the caption: He won't know what hit him! <3

Indonesia sat there in stunned silence for a few minutes, until he was nudged gently.

"Come on, the bus is here," Philippines stood, putting his hands on his hips. Then he frowned at him. "Hey, Indonesia, is there anything wrong? You look a bit shaken."

"No, everything's fine, I just," he stammered. There was such a powerful feeling in his heart that he didn't have the capacity to explain. "Um, I don't have my phone with me, so. Please thank everyone for keeping me in their thoughts. Tell them I'm doing my best to make all of you proud."

The other nation stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

If Indonesia let a few tears drop while they were on the bus, Philippines was kind enough not to say a word.

-----

Their stop was on top of a hill. There was an impressively large monument of a man on a horse, but Philippines dragged him to the nearby café as soon as they got off the bus, and Indonesia realized that he was probably better off with a nice snack than looking at some old statue anyway. To be fair, he had been waiting for dessert all day long, and the crepes were warm and delicious and more than enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. He finished his in record time, and bought another one right after.

"Ah, there's that smile," Philippines teased, once Indonesia had returned to their spot. "I was wondering where it went."

He was too engrossed with his enjoying his food to respond, but he motioned go on.

"It's just—I've seen you with tourists, you know." Philippines delicately sipped on his drink, slow and careful like an old cat. "Remember when we had that ASEAN hang-out at Bali? The restaurant near our hotel was full of foreign customers, and the staff was overwhelmed, so you decided to help the staff serve tables and entertain the guests. You seemed really friendly there."

"You knew about that?" Indonesia flushed with embarrassment. He thought he managed to sneak out successfully; it was at the point that Vietnam and Laos got crazy drunk, after all. "Well, it's very different dealing with foreigners at my home and actually being in a foreign place."

Philippines hummed contemplatively. "I think I get it. You feel more in control when it's them coming to you, rather than the other way around."

"Yeah, I suppose so." He crumpled the wrapping paper in his hands. "It's different for you though, right? I think you're more used to foreigners than I am."

The other nation laughed nervously. "I'm not sure Boracay and El Nido can even compare—"

"I'm not talking about tourists."

He knew, of course, that Philippines met with many nations as part of his duties, but he had always taken to this role so naturally that Indonesia could only assume that his history had given him a leg up. Spain was stricter on imposing his culture on the other nation than Netherlands ever was with him, or England with Malaysia and Singapore. America was just as obnoxiously stubborn when he colonized him right after. And although he never forgot his roots as part of Southeast Asia, Philippines also kept much less of his pre-colonial culture and history than the rest of them. Anything before Spain took him away was hazy and, as far as his memory was concerned, he had spent his youth growing up with the Americas and Europe — and with his mannerisms and how close he was with the Western nations, he certainly acted like it.

When Philippines arrived at the meeting earlier, everyone was accepting him with open arms. Spain had fondly ruffled his hair and America invited him to a party at his place next week. France had cooed adoringly at how much he had grown since his youth and England reminded him that he was due to visit London's hospitals in the next month. Germany's cheeks were pink as he asked how he was doing and Italy immediately began talking his ear off about food recipes and restaurants. Mexico began crying with joy at the sight of him, while Argentina and Brazil embraced him like family. It was a miracle that the both of them were able to leave as quickly as they did; he was sure that they'd make Philippines stay for at least another hour, if they could.

Meanwhile, Indonesia's own presence was always forgotten. The only time he was talked to the entire meeting was when Australia made an awkward half-joke, half-apology about the spying issue again.

"I guess it's easier for me to relate to them," Philippines admitted, a melancholy look in his eyes. He was looking down at his still half-eaten crepe with an oddly bittersweet smile on his lips; the sun, only just beginning to set, cast a dark shadow on his face. "And for them to relate to me. But I would be lying if I said I don't feel out of place with them too, sometimes. Despite everything, we're still very different. Besides, all the cultural similarities in the world can't make up for the fact that I'm so far away from them all. There just isn't enough opportunity for me to talk to them as much as they can talk to each other."

Indonesia didn't know what to say to that. He settled for a neutral, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

The other nation waved it off. "I'll forgive you if you take a selfie with me later."

He didn't have any choice but to accept.

As he waited for Philippines to finish his food, Indonesia took the time to observe the other people around. Many of them were trying to take a picture with the huge statue, but there were also families walking around with their happily enthusiastic children. If he looked farther, he could see busts of what he assumed were various historical figures lining the pathways. Going by the number of cars that had been parked just across them, it seemed like the park was of good interest for both tourists and locals alike. There were enough people to suggest that the place was well-loved, but there were nowhere near the crowds he'd see when he passed by the other popular tourist destinations. The statue of the man with a horse was large and grand, but he didn't recognize it; he was sure that, whatever this place was, it wasn't featured on the usual travel brochures.

"I'm curious," he said slowly, "as to why you're so familiar with Rome."

Philippines gave him a wry twitch of the lips, sitting his chin on the palm of his hands. "I thought we were done talking about me and the West?"

"This is different," he defended. "I'm just asking why you know about this place. Italy never took us anywhere like this for the G20 formalities."

"Well, of course he wouldn't," he said, idly swirling his drink around. "Just think: if you have a nice and peaceful park that's meant more for relaxation and you also have more famous and historically significant places available, then you would rather take your visiting diplomats to the latter, right? So Italy takes you to Palatino and Campidoglio instead of here. If it were you hosting the meeting, you'd take them to Monas instead of Taman Surapati."

Indonesia thought about that for a moment, but no matter how much he wanted to argue, he was forced to accept that Philippines was right. Then he frowned. "But you just take everyone to Luneta."

The other nation winked. "It's to my benefit that Luneta just happens to be both historical, relaxing, and beautiful. Makes my life a lot easier."

"You're not actually answering my question," he pointed out.

Philippines simply hummed, leaning back on his chair. His hair was blowing in the cold autumn breeze. "There's not much to say. I've had to visit a lot recently, since Italy is full of my migrant workers, more so than anywhere else in Europe. But when we were younger, Romano used to take me here often. The things he'd say — well, now that I think about it, I think you could relate."

He almost choked on his spit. Indonesia had never been in much contact with Romano, especially as his younger brother was always the one who represented Italy in their meetings, but he couldn't see any similarity between him and that foul-mouthed, angry brat. At the very least, he liked to think he was much more friendly and polite.

Uncharacteristically, the other nation didn't take the opportunity to laugh at him this time. Instead there was only a faraway look on his face, pensive as he stared out into somewhere unknown.

After a moment, Philippines finally said: "Do you still remember being with your old empires?"

Indonesia stilled.

"I know I don't, but you were old enough to remember living with the other maritime nations together as Nusantara," the other nation continued. "There was a glory that you could remember living before Portugal and Netherlands came to your shores. You weren't Majapahit, but you carried his legacy and his blood; just like you carried Srivijaya's.

"Romano lived at Spain's like I did, you know. He liked me for some reason, probably because I used to get sick all the time and couldn't really annoy him as much as the others. One day, he took me to Rome for the first time. I was so amazed at finally seeing all the old ruins I used to read about in books, and then when I looked back at him, he was crying. He told me it was like he could never escape the shadow of his grandfather."

Philippines' smile was terribly bittersweet. "I remember thinking that, for the first time, I was grateful I couldn't remember who I was before Spain came. And ever since I met you again, I kept wondering if you ever felt like Romano did. Maybe you had all that burden on you and you never told us. Maybe you felt lonely too."

He remembered.

Back when all of them were just children, back when he had never seen fair skin except for when he traded with the Eastern Asian nations up north. China and India, of course, were always present. Vietnam was older, and despite all the fighting she did, it never looked like she was ever frazzled by it. Myanmar was the same, but because he was so distant and preoccupied with his own kingdoms, Indonesia saw him the least. He would see Khmer more often when she had to pick up her sons, cheerful Thailand, friendly Laos, and belligerent Cambodia, from whenever they decided to come by. In their household, Malaysia was already energetic, but he was always doubly so whenever Singapore was around; those were the days that the smaller nation still admired his brother. Timor Leste was still sweet and shy, hiding behind him at every hint of danger. Brunei, quiet as ever, spent his time diligently picking flowers for a young Philippines across the sea. Steady, dependable Majapahit had welcomed them all with a smile, and taught him to do the same.

Indonesia grew up without ever really knowing what loneliness was. Even after Majapahit had already faded away, Netherlands had visited him much more often than was necessary or appropriate for a normal colonial relationship. And though he was separated from the rest of them, his siblings were never too far from him either.

So he had to take care of them too, when he could. He had to, because he was the one who remembered the most about what life was like, before. He had to, because he was the oldest. He had to, because that was what Majapahit taught him. Whether he began to feel more and more weary as the centuries passed by and his own territory expanded didn't matter, because being able to take care of as many people as he could — that was the greatest power any nation could ever have.

Of course he remembered. He never let himself forget.

A gentle nudge from Philippines shook him out of his silence. Softly, he said, "You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, even I know when to back off."

"Sorry, you just caught me off-guard," he said, taking a moment to compose himself. Then Indonesia sighed. "You're not normally so serious. I was completely unprepared."

Philippines pouted. "Is it really all that surprising? I just thought, since you asked me a pretty personal question just now, it's only fair that I do the same to you. Answering that made me feel sad, so you needed to think of something that made you sad too! At least the both of us can feel sad together, instead of just me being sad all on my own."

Indonesia felt his eye twitch. "Your logic is really something."

The other nation just laughed, as if nothing happened at all. Then he stood, his grin wide and his hand reaching out to him, and said, "Come on, it's a complete waste for us to come here if all we're going to do is sit around! You can see all of Rome from Gianicolo, you know."

They watched the sunset from the hill's peak, and seeing the yellows and oranges being reflected in Philippines' purple eyes made for a pretty sight. As the sun shone its last light on the ancient ruins of the Roman Empire, Indonesia felt strangely at peace for the first time since he arrived. Maybe he'd even ask Philippines to properly introduce him to Romano one day.

-----

The Eternal City was beautiful even at night, but Indonesia just felt tired. He could sense that Philippines still wanted to go around with him — he mentioned something about taking him to a turtle fountain? — so they settled for slowly walking down the hill. They chatted about mundane things like food, gaming, and the merits of motorcycles over bikes, and it was unexpectedly nice. For some reason, Indonesia felt as light as air. He still wanted to go home as soon as he could, but he slowly realized that he wasn't all that opposed to just spending time with the other nation either.

"Say, Indonesia," Philippines suddenly said. "Do you know how to get back to your hotel?"

Indonesia took that back. He wanted to go home immediately.

The other nation giggled. "Don't tell me that you don't even remember which hotel you're staying at?"

He quickly turned his head away. He willed himself to look anywhere but the other nation, but he could still feel how Philippines was staring at him.

"Ah! I get it now," Philippines said, delightedly. Indonesia internally cursed himself. "Let me guess. You didn't have any plans of going anywhere but the meeting, the hotel, and the airport, so you thought it was fine if you left your phone behind and if you didn't care to remember your hotel's name. And, you kept falling asleep at the hotel shuttle that takes you to the meetings, so you can't even tell me about the nearby landmarks! My, how careless of you, Indonesia!"

"Why are you so smart," Indonesia grumbled, "for the most stupid of things?"

"I don't hear any denial," Philippines sang. "Well, whatever, that works out for me. Unless you're game for scouring through the dozens of hotels around the city, I guess I have no choice but to take you back to my place, huh?"

He faced Philippines, who was scrolling through his phone again, and said, "You don't have to do that. You can probably just ask Italy which hotel he arranged for me. I can take a taxi."

The other nation hummed. "Going from his Instagram stories, he looks like he's too busy partying with the others. Looks like France even brought out his special wine for the occasion. Hey, would you want to party with them? The bar they went to is just a few stations away by metro."

The last time he went to a G20 party, he and Germany were made to strip so that everyone could stare at their pecs. The expression he made must have been grim, as Philippines immediately backtracked. "I'm going to take that as a no."

Indonesia sighed. "Well, I don't want to disturb Italy and I don't want to waste any money trying to find another hotel. If you're really fine with me staying with you for the night, then I guess I have no problem with it either."

Philippines stopped in his tracks. "Eh? You're not going to make a fuss about it?"

Indonesia tilted his head, quizzically. "And you are?"

For some odd reason, the other nation seemed flustered. He was gripping the strap of his bag tightly and his cheeks were pink. "Well, you know, you're normally so averse to any of my ideas, and you always seem so annoyed with me. I thought, for sure, that you were just going to argue against me again . . ."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" Indonesia frowned. "I wouldn't have been with you all day if I hated you."

That seemed to perk Philippines back up. He could practically see the sparkles in the other nation's eyes as he faced him and gleefully said, "Ha! You've admitted it! So if you don't hate me, does that mean that you actually like me, Indonesia?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Philippines just laughed, cheery and bright.

When they stepped down from the bus, Indonesia was surprised to be faced with a block full of old apartment buildings rather than a fancy hotel. Evidently, the other nation was familiar to the residents; one old lady had grasped him firmly by the hand with a gummy smile as she engaged them in small talk. Philippines then took him to the second building on the right and led him through a few flights of stairs to a dark, wooden door.

The apartment was small but clean. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, then some communal space with a worn sofa and a dated television. There was a kitchen with a countertop, rice cooker unplugged, and more than a few succulents sitting by the window. The other nation's usual travel bag was still on the floor, a duffel bag easily recognizable by the numerous flag patches stitched by the sides as a memento for all the countries he had visited. A small corner was developed into a personal home altar, figures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by flowers and golden crosses. Even though it was emptier than Philippines' own home back in Manila, it was still undeniably his in its coziness and warmth. All in all, it was modest and good; certainly more than what Indonesia expected for an apartment that the other nation probably only visited a few times a year.

"It's cute. It fits you," he said politely.

"Aw, you think I'm cute," Philippines teased. He was hanging his overcoat on the coat rack, which was a bit too tall for him — a sliver of skin showed only for a moment before being covered again by his turtleneck top. Indonesia pretended he didn't see. "Please go ahead and sit down, make yourself comfortable. Oh, won’t you take off your suit and place it somewhere? The good thing about Europe is that it’s a lot cooler here, so you can still wear it tomorrow without worrying about sweat and stuff."

“I knew that, at least.” He placed his suit on a nearby chair and sat down on the sofa. Philippines set a saucer full of biscuits at the table and gave him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank. As the other nation sat down beside him, Indonesia couldn’t help but ask, “Is this place really yours?”

“My government didn’t buy it for me like all our other properties, if that’s what you’re asking,” Philippines said, reaching out for the biscuits. There was an audible crunch as he bit into one of them. “One of the Filipinos living here bought it for her son, but he decided to move in with his girlfriend. She thought it would be a waste of money to abandon it, so she gave it to me. When I’m not here, it gets rented as an Airbnb. We share the profits. It’s actually pretty good passive income, you know.”

Indonesia gave him a wry smile. “You always find an opportunity to make money, somehow. I’d say it’s America’s influence, but I know for a fact you’ve been this way since we were kids.”

"My skill is all mine, thank you very much," the other nation boasted, leaning back into the sofa with a self-assured smirk. “I don't suppose there's anything else you remember about me from those days? I assure you, if you thought I inherited my charm from Spain, you'd be dead wrong.”

Your hair used to be so long, he immediately thought. He had taken care of it meticulously, washing it with several oils so it was always smooth and wonderfully scented. Gold adorned almost every inch of his body, painstakingly crafted with the tiniest details, contrasting beautifully with the vibrant textiles used for his clothes. Even as a child, Philippines was already used to traveling often — Tondo and Seludong would take him up north, Butuan and Sulu down south, Sugbu and Panay at the center, and a dozen more kingdoms in between. He loved his boats the most, and Majapahit would patiently humor him by letting the younger nation talk his ear off about the latest developments his different kingdoms had with their boatmaking.

Not that he had ever tried to listen in, or attempted to make prolonged conversation with the other nation. At the time, Indonesia was too busy trying to handle Malaysia and Singapore’s chaos to pay much attention to anyone else. He hadn’t gotten to know Philippines all that well until they met again centuries later; older and more jaded, irrevocably shaped by the circumstances their colonizers had placed them in.

Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if things had turned out differently. But he didn’t have the energy to waste his time despairing over it all again, not when Philippines was still looking at him so expectantly.

“Your eyes haven’t changed,” Indonesia decided to say. “And as for everything else I remember, there’s nothing I haven’t already told you about before.”

Philippines smiled at him fondly, “You’re as terribly succinct as ever.”

Indonesia smiled back, “And as always, you’re just as annoyingly persistent.”

For a long moment, they just sat there on the sofa in silence — easy and comfortable and bathed in the apartment’s warm, golden light. The windows were open, and guitar music from the neighbors was softly permeating the room with its slow, relaxed melody. It was during these kinds of moments that Indonesia's heart felt full; that all he's been through in the past few centuries were worth it, if it meant he could enjoy more days like this. The mood was right and he felt good; perhaps if he was braver, he would have had the confidence to make the most out of it.

Eventually, the moment passed, and the other nation stood. "It's so late already! I should probably get to preparing our dinner. You can freshen up before we eat, if you want."

"Right," Indonesia said, hastily standing up as well. "Ah, may I borrow your phone? I just need to check on something."

Philippines didn't really answer, but he heartily belted out the lyrics to some old love song as he brought out a pot and a chopping board from the kitchen cabinets, so he took it as a yes. Ignoring how the photo for the lock screen looked suspiciously like the sunrise at Bali, he put in the PIN code — 8862, how sentimental of him — and was immediately bombarded by the number of notifications he got. There were messages from everywhere: SMS, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Instagram, Twitter, Telegram . . . it's really no wonder that Philippines was named both the texting and social media capital of the world. Indonesia had no interest in intruding on the other nation's privacy though. As he ducked into the bathroom to wash his face, hands, and feet, he did a quick Google search for sholat times rome.

If he was home, he wouldn't have needed to Google such a thing; the mosques would have already blared adzan through the loudspeakers, reminding everyone in close vicinity that it was time for prayer. His overseas workers would sometimes complain to him about how difficult it could be to pray once they were abroad, that strangers would sometimes gawk at them in public or their employers wouldn't give them the time or space to do it properly in the office. Indonesia often had nothing to offer them but his sympathies. Tonight, he decided, he would pray for them.

"Are you going to pray?" Philippines called out. He was placing a tray in the oven. "Head to the back, go in the room on the right. It should be peaceful there."

"Thank you," he said, and when he opened the door, he was greeted with a welcome surprise.

Though the room was otherwise plain, a vibrantly orange prayer mat stood out — Malaysia's picking, no doubt. Indonesia raised his hands facing kiblat, slow and reverent, and made the mental note to thank his brother later. Thanks to this, he felt significantly less alone.

-----

Philippines made a quick sign of the cross as he sat down on the table. He grinned, "Let's eat!"

It was a modest meal: baked fish with lemons, Filipino-style chop suey, white rice, and a bowl of what was unmistakably Indomie Mi Goreng. While Philippines had poured out a glass of white wine for himself, Indonesia had a glass of orange juice. The other nation was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, though Indonesia chalked that up to hunger; Philippines ate quickly and ravenously, shoving spoonfuls of rice and noodles into his mouth without pausing for so much as a single breath. Indonesia felt tired just watching him.

Once they were finished, Philippines patted his stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's the good stuff."

"My compliments to the chef," Indonesia said, which made the other nation giggle. "Though I have to say, I would have cooked it differently."

"I know, but then it'd take longer and I was already so hungry — I'd even go as far to say that I was absolutely famished." Philippines groaned, slumping in his seat. "I mean, I know we could've just eaten at some trattoria down the road, but I needed rice. And I wasn't going to settle for some dumb risotto, no matter how delicious it would be. You get me, don't you?"

"It isn't a full meal without rice," Indonesia agreed.

The other nation nodded seriously. "I always felt like something was missing while I was growing up. It wasn't until I was allowed to go back to Manila that I figured out that it was rice. I haven't looked back since."

Indonesia had always known that Philippines had lived in Europe during the centuries that he was a Spanish colony, but hadn't thought any deeper about the smaller implications that had on him. Some things were obvious — his devout Catholicism for one, and the conspicuously Hispanic human name he used in his daily life — but little things like this caught him off-guard. He said, "I'm sincerely very sorry to hear that."

Philippines did nothing but take a long sip of his wine. "No need to pity me so much, it's in the past now. I don't really think about it."

"I'm not pitying you," he muttered, though he wasn't able to look Philippines in the eyes as he said it. Then, louder: "I'm just realizing that there's still so much I don't know about you. I'm your neighbor, and I don't even know what your childhood was like."

Philippines smiled at him, but it was strained. His face was saying I don't want to talk about it even as he softly confessed, "I don't know all about your history either, Indonesia. Not enough. The sentiment goes both ways. And as for my time with Spain . . . well, what is there to say, really? He said he would take care of me, and he didn't. Not in the same way he took care of the others. Whether that's a blessing or a curse, I don't think I'll ever really know. I just know that it's over now, and I'm grateful.

"I bet your experience was different though." The gaze the other nation leveled on him was nothing less than dangerously curious. His purple eyes were filled with strong contempt, but contempt for what, Indonesia didn't know. "Like I said, I don't know the specifics. But I've been told your relationship with Netherlands was something else entirely."

"He and I weren't—" he stammered, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else.

But the way Philippines was looking at him made him stop. He took a deep breath and calmed himself; the other nation deserved something more honest than that.

He still remembered how tightly Netherlands had gripped at his arm, decades and decades ago, his scarf flapping helplessly in the wind. Despite all the things that had gone unsaid between them and the years that they spent together, the blond was still unbearably silent. He used to admire that stoic demeanor; tried to emulate it when he was feeling overwhelmed, always so determined not to embarrass himself or the empire. Back when Netherlands had declared him the emerald of the equator, the crown jewel of his power as a nation . . . it had taken all he had to choke back his pride. It had taken all he had to keep his secret, that budding idea that he was meant to be more than just somebody else's precious colony.

Indië, Netherlands had pleaded, and suddenly the great Dutch Empire had seemed so small.

"It was different," he finally said. "But I don't think it was any better, in the end."

With a bittersweet smile, Philippines simply raised a toast. "To tomorrow."

In answer, Indonesia downed the rest of his orange juice in one go. This time, Philippines' laugh was more genuine, and he couldn't help but stare.

He had noticed this before, of course, but now — with the other nation elegantly sitting across him, his purple eyes glittering bright, and the wine glass so tantalizingly close to his lips — Indonesia was stricken by how right at home the other nation looked. Even Singapore, who probably had the most business with the Western countries out of them all, was more guarded whenever he stepped foot on European soil. Yet Philippines wasn't out of place here in the same way that Indonesia felt, and had instead carried the same easygoing attitude he had during their own ASEAN meetings. As much as the other nation's energy and eccentricities irked him sometimes, he also found himself in awe of him as well.

The others were right. If Philippines hadn't come, he would've spent all his free time wallowing around in his hotel room just feeling sorry for himself. But instead, he was enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Hesitant as he was to admit it, he almost found himself wanting to stay in Rome a little bit longer, if it meant the both of them could spend more time together.

"You're not leaving for Munich anytime soon, are you?" Indonesia said, daring to be hopeful.

Philippines rested his cheek on his hand. "If I remember right, the tickets Prussia bought for us were for tomorrow morning? He gets way too excited about Oktoberfest, you know."

Why do I even try to be happy, Indonesia thought darkly.

"Ah, don't look so glum! You have me all to yourself for the rest of the night," Philippines winked. "But I have to warn you, Pien is having his precious beauty sleep in my bedroom, so if you have any special requests we're going to have to be very quiet about it."

"Nothing like that," Indonesia quickly said, his face hot. "I just thought, I might as well treat you to somewhere nice. As a thank you for, uh, taking care of me today. But my flight back home is tomorrow night, and you're catching the morning train with Germany, and now I'm starting to think that we don't exactly have the time . . ."

The other nation waved it off. "We're nations, mahal. We have all the time in the world. Besides, we'll be meeting again for the APEC conference coming up in November, right? I don't mind waiting until then."

"But I do," he grumbled. "And again, don't call me mahal."

Philippines finished his drink and set his glass delicately on the table. "You can promise me that you'll let me sing half the songs when we go karaoke with the others. Or that you'll pay for my food the next time we have a group dinner. Oh! When Thailand makes a mean comment to me in the next meeting, you have to defend me. Say something like Filipino BL series are better than Thai BL series, that'll really get him going."

He was suddenly reminded of how frivolous the other nation could be sometimes. Either that, or worryingly low-maintenance. Indonesia built up the courage and forced out, "I'd rather make it up to you when the two of us are alone."

This time, it was Philippines who was staring. Flustered, Indonesia rambled on. "I just mean—you know, you spent all this time with me even though you didn't have to. So it's only right that I spend more time with you too, just the both of us. It's not good enough if the others are there too."

Philippines offered, "We could watch a movie before we sleep?"

"I'll probably just pass out in the middle."

"Maybe you can make breakfast for us tomorrow?"

"You gave me snacks, dinner, and a place to sleep, there's no way just a breakfast is fair."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to spend a night over at your place?"

"It's not about you, not really. It's just, I want to do something for you. Something you want."

"I've been telling you what I want, but you keep saying it's not good enough, I don't understand—"

"It needs to be special, okay? Is it so bad that I want to do something nice for you—"

"It's not bad, I just don't get why you're being so picky about it. Like, isn't doing me a favor enough for you? Isn't this just about paying me back? What is it that you want to do with me exactly?"

"No," Indonesia stressed, feeling like he was about to lose his mind. "I want—"

He paused.

What did he want, exactly?

Philippines just smiled at him, patient and knowing and just the slightest bit sad, and stood. He was carrying his plate, and as he passed by Indonesia he gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. When Indonesia looked up to face him, the other nation's eyes were soft. "I know I've said this to you before, but I'll say it again. I can't know things if you don't actually say it. Alright?"

Then he walked away to the kitchen sink, absentmindedly humming to himself, leaving Indonesia all alone at the table. The words I think I want you died on his lips.

-----

Later, after reflecting during his night bath, Indonesia found himself in a panic.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He's known for a while that Philippines was the only one who could fluster him like no other, but he often chalked that up to the other nation's cheeky character rather than anything else. His attraction to Philippines wasn't surprising either; it was no secret that he liked looking pretty, and to be honest, Indonesia has had worse crushes. But he was also steadily coming to the conclusion that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation, and he couldn't help but wonder: why fall for the other nation in particular?

Philippines was an ally, someone he had founded and managed ASEAN with in a show of regional strength. Philippines was a friend, someone he had spent countless days with over the years along with all the other people he treasured in his life. Philippines was a stranger, someone who still felt so foreign to him despite everything. He could trace out the curve of his smile in an instant, and at the same time, he didn't have the faintest idea what the other nation was doing in the 1920s. He knew that watching a cheesy romcom was the surest way of brightening up his day, but not the exact nature of what Spain had done to him as a colony. And, for the life of him, he still didn’t understand the slightest bit of how verb conjugation in Tagalog worked — which felt especially embarrassing the day he found out that Philippines had been putting in the effort to learn both Bahasa Indonesia and Bahasa Melayu so he could communicate with the rest of the maritime nations better. He'd understand his own heart easier if he fell for Malaysia or even Netherlands — people who he had shared a deep and culturally signifcant history with in his extremely long life as a nation — but Philippines was, to put it sadly, not like that to him.

And yet, as Indonesia stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, all he could think about was how much happier he looked now compared to his bleak and boring morning.

He changed into the clothes that Philippines had laid out for him on the bed and had a brief thought of just going to sleep for the night. Pramoedya, if he were still alive, would chide him for such cowardice. Indonesia ended up at the other nation's door, nervously trying to build up the courage to knock. But Philippines must have heard his footsteps, as he called out: "I know you're out there! Just come in!"

Just like him, Philippines had already bathed and changed to more casual sleepwear; he was wearing a loose sweater and shorts that showed off his legs. He was sitting upright on his bed, looking amused at whatever he was staring at on his phone screen, and his face broke out into a warm smile when he saw Indonesia hesitantly trudge inside his bedroom. Pien was already sound asleep in a little makeshift bed on the desk.

"Sit here," said Philippines, while he scooted over to give him space. Indonesia gave him a look. "I'm being serious. Just move your arms a bit and—yeah, that's it. Aren't we cozy?"

Now they were both sitting on the bed, with Philippines between his legs and his arms around Philippines' waist. Cozy was certainly a word for it.

"Now you're just teasing me," Indonesia grumbled, but he didn't move away either.

"Me? Tease you?" Philippines fluttered his eyelashes at him. "Why, I'm just a poor tropical nation made to suffer through the unbearably cold Autumn months in the Northern Hemisphere! I'm severely in need of some aid and assistance, but I'm sure you and all your hundred active volcanoes can keep me warm for tonight."

"You're horrible, you know that?" he said, though he was unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. Philippines laughed with him, giddy and gleeful. "You don't know how anxious I was before this. It's not fair that you can just make all that go away so easily."

Philippines leaned back on his chest, smug as a cat. "Call it a gift. By the way, our neighbors want to know how you're doing. Anything you want to say?"

Now that he was right behind the other nation, he could see that his phone was opened to the ASEAN group chat. It seemed like everyone was spamming the chat with pictures of their pets again. Indonesia rested his chin on Philippines' shoulder and said, "I'm doing just fine. Tell them I mean it this time."

If the other nation was flustered, he betrayed no signs of it. He had now moved on to chatting with the other ex-Spanish colonies; they were all talking in Spanish and Indonesia couldn't understand a thing. "I'll tell them when I'm sure it won't get buried by everything else. But, you know, that's really good to hear. My influence, I hope."

Indonesia buried his face in Philippines' neck as an answer.

"So needy," Philippines murmured, who had put his phone down to pat his head. "Perhaps you really were lonely?"

"Not as lonely as you used to be, I think." At this, Philippines stilled. Indonesia tightened his hold on the other nation's slim waist even further, almost afraid that he would drift away. "About that question you asked, earlier at the cafe . . . I don't feel burdened by how great my old empires were. I've felt the pressure to make them proud, but I've never felt like it was a burden. Their legacy is my life and my connections to all of you, you know? I've certainly never felt like it made me lonely.

"And then there's you, and I know it's not the same for you, because you can't even remember — and that's fine, Singapore doesn't really remember much either. But Malaysia remembers enough for the both of them, and then there's me, and I remember the most, but then there's you, and you don't have that."

Here, Indonesia exhales a shaky breath. "Spain took you, and America took you, and Japan took you, and that's four centuries of you just being gone from me. We're neighbors yet we're so different, to the point where we don't share the same language, the same religion, the same food, the same history . . . and you have friends all over the world and you seem so happy all the time, but I don't think I've ever realized how lonely you must feel."

All Philippines did was sigh. "I told you not to pity me."

"I'm not pitying you," said Indonesia. "I'm just sorry."

All this time, he had been so in awe of how Philippines found it so easy to adjust to Westerners and Western culture when he himself found it so difficult. But now, with the realization that the same ability to connect with others may have also translated to an inability to connect with him and the rest of ASEAN, that same awe felt so bitter. How many times had Philippines stood awkwardly to the side when he spoke to Malaysia and Brunei in his native language? Kept worryingly quiet when they were wistfully reminiscing their pre-colonial pasts? Tried to tell a joke to lighten up the mood during a meeting, but because of differences in culture and history, it just fell flat?

Indonesia was startled out of his thoughts with a painful pinch of his cheek.

"Of course you're going to be sorry if you make me sound so depressing," Philippines pouted at him, annoyed.

He sputtered, "What? I mean, I just thought—"

"Do you take me for an idiot, Indonesia?" He pinched Indonesia harder, which made him yelp. "Don't you think I'd be well aware by now of where I stand with all of you? That after sixty years together, I would've realized that I wasn't as involved in your history as everyone else is in maritime, or everyone else with each other in the mainland?"

With a huff, Philippines let him go. Indonesia tried to soothe the sting of it by putting his hand on his cheek. He almost didn't hear the other nation murmur, "Do I seem that pitiful to you?"

"Not pitiful at all," Indonesia scrambled to reassure. Philippines leaned back on his chest, still looking a bit miffed. "I don't know. I just had this sudden thought that maybe we're just a bad reminder of how much Spain and America took away from you. Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with us."

Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with me, he thought, though he kept that to himself.

Philippines simply stared up at him, eyes bright, and said, "Well, if you only realized it today, then maybe you should've considered that it isn't actually a problem."

"You could just be very good at acting like nothing's wrong," Indonesia pointed out.

"Or you can think about this: maybe there really is nothing wrong in the first place," Philippines said, a wry smile growing on his face. "I founded the association with you, you know. Maybe the rest of you were there because of old ties or whatever, but I joined precisely because I wanted to build new ones. I don't really care if I feel awkward sometimes. I'd certainly find it boring if all of you were exactly like me anyway."

The other nation was so carefree about it, but Indonesia still felt conflicted. He admitted, "Maybe the problem is just that I feel awkward. I have no idea how to approach you as a nation."

"So don't approach me as a nation. Approach me as a friend," Philippines said, not unkindly. To get the point across, he put his hands over Indonesia's in a show of comfort. "You're allowed to act outside the interests of who you represent, you know. We're people too."

Indonesia kept quiet. There had been times when he privately felt like Philippines was his exact opposite — a lively, energetic person that focused more on his human side rather than the nation side, and someone whose duties were considerably more worldly than his own: having to regularly travel to dozens of countries to check on the millions of Filipino citizens that were working abroad. Meanwhile, as such a large and diverse country, Indonesia tried his best to ensure that every single one of the people that lived within his borders felt heard. It was difficult sometimes, but it always felt meaningful to him — his people were his essence, and he couldn't let politics force him to forsake them again. Acting for his personal interests felt as foreign to him as leaving his house sometimes. Not that he never took time for himself; he tried, but a lot of the time he had to be convinced to do so. Sometimes Singapore would invite him for another tour around his house, or Malaysia would drag him into some new restaurant where they would inevitably fight over the food. But more often than not, it would be Philippines pushing him and the other Southeast Asian nations out of their shells and setting up parties, taking them to his fiestas, and prodding and annoying all of them until they would finally agree to ASEAN hang-outs like the one at Bali. Indonesia could admit harboring a deep suspicion for the other nation before, thinking that he was more in line with American interests rather than his own, but over the decades that suspicion had faded. Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he had grown on him, and now Indonesia couldn't imagine his life without him anymore.

He didn't know much about the Philippines as a nation, not much more than he needed to be aware of for the sake of diplomacy and the association. Yet as the years went by and he got to know more and become friends with Philippines the person, he discovered someone who was equal parts obnoxious and endearing, foolhardy and clever, petty and proud and unbelievably kind. And as he looked at him now, there was something in the curve of his smile and the light in his eyes that told him that things would be alright if he took things a step further — something that told him that the other nation had been anticipating this for a long, long time. Heart over head and heart over country, it emboldened him to take the leap.

"I don't want to approach you as a friend either," Indonesia murmured, and because he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and kissed him.

Philippines sighed happily into his mouth as he kissed back, warm and blooming under his touch. Their kiss was relatively chaste — Indonesia had seen the other nation make out with others for a drunk dare with more passion than this — yet he couldn't complain. It was sweet and soft and lasted only for a moment, and more than anything, it was a promise: that they can take things slow, and that they had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.

Their foreheads touched, quiet and tender, and Philippines laughed softly. "It's so ridiculous," he said, his eyes filled with mirth, "that I've been waiting for so long for you to realize your feelings, and when the time finally comes that you do, you managed to confess without really confessing at all. Only you, Indonesia."

"I'm shy," he said dryly, and the other nation burst into laughter. "If you wanted a real confession, you probably could've done so yourself."

"Ah, but there's no fun in that! I like the thrill of being chased, you know," Philippines preened, wagging his finger in mock admonishment. Then, more shyly, he admitted, "Besides, if I made a move on you before you were ready, you might've just pushed me away or feel forced to return my feelings even if you didn't. If I waited, at least I could be sure you wanted me too."

"So all those jokes you made before were supposed to be you holding back? How subtle," Indonesia teased, his eyes crinkling. He held the other nation closer, smothering him with small kisses all over until what little sadness on his face disappeared and was replaced with giggles and brightness. He turned Philippines' head to face him properly and said, "I'm scared that I won't know how to balance my duties and my personal life as well as you do, and I'm scared that we'll be too dissimilar to really work out. But until the day that our differences force us apart, I'd be happy to spend my time with you."

Philippines pulled away from him slightly, an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes. "You're sure you really want something with me? That this isn't too far out of your comfort zone?"

"Oh, it's very out of my comfort zone," Indonesia said. "But recently, I've been learning that maybe it isn't so bad, you know. As long as I'm with you."

"As long as I'm with you," Philippines repeated, with a growing smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued talking well past midnight, at some points laughing so hard and arguing so loud that poor Pien was startled awake by all the noise. And as the other nation reached out and pulled him under the covers so they could hold each other until the morning, he found himself reaching back. They kissed until their lips were red and they got so tangled up in each other until they couldn't distinguish between their own bodies anymore; despite how differently the day turned out from how his usual trips to Europe went, Indonesia swore that the unfamiliar city never felt so much like coming home until that night.

-----

"Where the hell is my sweater," Philippines groused.

"You threw it on the floor last night, it should be under your bedside drawer." Indonesia kissed his forehead and, keenly aware that he was not a morning person, gave him a cup of his precious coffee. He could tell his efforts were appreciated when Philippines greedily gulped down the scalding liquid. "Selamat pagi, sayang."

The other nation only pouted at him. "Don't call me sayang."

"After all the stupid things you've called me through the years? I'll call you however I like, thank you very much," he shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the one who has to leave in a few hours."

Philippines groaned as he pulled his clothes over himself. "This is so stupid. We finally get together and now we have to be separated like this? I mean, I'm really glad and I like you a lot and all, but I really wish you had a better sense of timing right now."

"I think you'll live." Indonesia hid his smile behind his cup. "I mean, you were the one that said you don't mind waiting until November to see me again."

"You just keep making fun of me," Philippines whined, cuddling up to him. Pien had even jumped up to nuzzle his neck, evidently just as clingy as his owner. "Where's the romance, Indonesia? The sweet nothings in my ear? The poems and songs you surely must've written while you pined for my presence? Am I to despair forever, having only been loved by a phantom version of yourself that will never return?"

"You've been watching too many telenovelas," Indonesia said, quickly setting both of their cups somewhere else before they had any accidents. At this, the other nation gasped dramatically and collapsed across his lap. Despite himself, he started chuckling at how ridiculous Philippines was being — really, how could he not find him so endearing?

Then Philippines suddenly turned serious. He stared up at him, his gaze piercing. "If you don't want me to go, I can just make up dumb some excuse again, you know. Just say the word."

Indonesia humored him. "And why wouldn't I want you to go?"

"Because I can't be there for you if you feel alone again," he muttered, expression tense and his mouth downturned in an angry frown. "I just feel bad that I'm leaving you so soon."

Yesterday, he would've been right to be worried. Indonesia probably would've found some roundabout way to say that he'd much rather for Philippines to stay just until he could see him off at the airport later that evening, if only to stave off that achingly empty feeling of waiting to go home and resenting time for moving so slowly. Philippines would have laughed and teased and inevitably posted about the day's events on his Instagram, to which Indonesia would look increasingly more exhausted with each new update, but he nevertheless would have allowed Indonesia to get away with delaying his plans to make him more comfortable.

But as it was, now Indonesia only remembered the way the other nation's eyes had twinkled in excitement when he mentioned Munich, so it was little trouble for him to simply smooth back Philippines' bangs and lightly say, "Actually, I was planning of sightseeing on my own today."

"Oh?" Philippines looked surprised — and pleased. "You are?"

Indonesia couldn't stop himself from flushing in embarrassment. Really, it had only been a passing thought he had after finishing his morning prayers, but . . . "All of you are always going on about how I can't enjoy myself abroad, so. I figured it was time I gave it a try."

Though Philippines probably knew he was still rather uncertain about it, he smiled anyway. "Well, as long as bring your phone this time, alright? I'm always just a text away if you need it."

"And here I thought you'd say some cheesy line about me never truly being alone since you'll always in my heart," Indonesia said, and Philippines was startled into laughter as he sat back up. "Don't worry. I've survived a long, long time without you by my side. I can take a little longer."

Philippines pecked him on the cheek, sweet and domestic. "Not too long, I hope. I can't wait to see the look on Thailand's face when we walk into November's meeting hand in hand. Maybe I should make a vlog about everyone else's surprised reactions."

"Whatever you like, sayang." Indonesia smiled as he stood, his hand reaching out. He pulled Philippines into a kiss — a deep one this time, slow and sensuous and full of all the things he felt too strongly to properly express in words — that left them both breathing heavily by the time they pulled away. Feeling uncharacteristically suave, he whispered, "Though I would prefer it if, in the short time that you're still here, you keep all your focus on me."

"Always, mahal." Philippines smiled back, eyes as bright as ever. "Always."

-----

Notes:

Title comes from the lyrics of How Deep Is Your Love, but specifically, it's a reference to the Christian Bautista cover. Bautista is a Filipino singer, and his cover was very popular in Indonesia a few years ago.

There are a lot of things I've had to simplify and outright ignore for the sake of story, most egregious being the fact that Indonesia actually wouldn't be the sole Southeast Asian nation in a G20 meeting. The chair of ASEAN is a permanent guest invitee, and since the current chair is the Sultan of Brunei, Brunei would probably in the meeting as well. Alas, Brunei isn't canon yet as of this writing. Sorry, Brunei!

Mahal and sayang are both terms of endearment in Tagalog and Bahasa Indonesia respectively, but with a catch! Mahal is a word that also exists in Bahasa Indonesia, but the meaning is "expensive" rather than "love" — in Tagalog you can use the word both ways. Sayang is a word that also exists in Tagalog, but the meaning is "What a waste" or "What a pity" rather than "love" — in Bahasa Indonesia, you can use the word both ways. So essentially, you have Philippines and Indonesia trying to be sweet to each other, but the other interprets it as a weird insult instead. It's really funny and really cute.

More detailed notes and references on my previous Tumblr post here!

#indophil #hws philippines #hws indonesia #aph philippines #aph indonesia #hws #mine

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Future Holds

Summary: Time is an illusion that helps things make sense.

Warning: Language

Word Count: 2,673

* * * * * *

“Uh, guys we’ve got an enhanced on the field!”

Blue blasts shoot through the air, pained grunts fill your ear from the coms, and your teammates speak to you as you fight through the barrage of enemies. All the while keeping your eyes trained on the person surrounded by blue energy.

“Obviously Y/n.”

You roll your eyes,“ this is no time for jokes Tony, he’s making people fucking disappear.”

That grabs everyone’s attention. Continuing to fight, they look to the person you mentioned. Just as he presses his hands to the shoulders of two guys and consumes them with the blue energy.

You frown at the familiarity of the energy. It’s definitely something you’ve seen before.

“Thinking hard Y/ln.”

E/c eyes flicker to green ones and you chuckle.

“Always Romanoff.” Sliding under the legs of the enemy in between you two, you dodge out of the way when Natasha shoots a widow’s bite at him.“ Awe, you’ve always got my back Tash, that’s best friend material.” You smile teasingly.

She rolls her eyes, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear,“ I don’t recall signing up for that position.” She jokes back.

You’re mid laugh when you notice her eyes widening, gaze behind you. Moving quickly, you duck down and trip the enhanced. Only for his energized hand to land on Natasha. Her instantly disappearing, replaced with a blue mist.

“Tasha!” You exclaim in shock, turning to fight the man.

Noticing your shout, the team engages as well.

It’s obviously overwhelming to him but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t hold his own, effectively disappearing two more of your teammates, before Bucky knocks him out.

Jaw clenched you glare down at the guy, secretly hoping that he hadn’t- no, you didn’t want to think of that.

“Pick him up,” you tell Steve and Bucky,“ we need him to figure out what just happened to our friends.”

They nod and together you and the rest of the team takes the enhanced back to the compound to get Tony, Carol, and Natasha back.

* * * * * *

“Hey, Nat,” her body rocks as light fades into the dark,“ Natasha wake up.”

Finally opening her eyes, Natasha blinks to take in her surroundings.

Green. Yards of grass. Surrounded by trees.

Tony and Carol at her sides.

The billionaire is looking around, murmuring to the AI in his suit. Only for the helmet to retract.

“We’ve got a problem.” Both women frown at him.“ I can’t get F.R.I.D.A.Y up.”

Carol is the first to nod and move. Brushing her pants off,“ then we need to move. Figure out where we are and how to get back home.”

Natasha and Tony agree and together the group heads North.

Eyes wander all over as they keep walking. Until finally they reach the road. There doesn’t seem to be much traffic which is equally as bad as it is good.

Tony sighs,“ we need to find transportation. Walking is productive but it doesn’t seem like there’s much around so we’ll be doing this for a while and I prefer not to.”

Carol scoffs and shakes her head,“ I’m sure we’ll find something soon. And we don’t have options so let’s not get picky.”

And so the three continue to walk. Minds reel as they think of ways to get home and where they are. There were guesses but they weren’t sure. Everything was black when they were transported wherever they are.

It seems like hours pass before they find some sort of salvation.

Hopeful, the three trudge up the graveled path, stopping at the fork in the path. One leads up to a white paneled home and the other leads up to a matching garage.

The shared glances point in two different directions. Carol is thinking they take whatever car they find in there and Tony is thinking they go to the house and offer to buy whatever car is in there. Natasha stops the argument before it can begin and nods to the garage.

She’d rather not deal with a third party, it complicates things.

“Give me a minute, I got this.” Carol says cockily, before looking for something to unlock the Buick SUV.

Natasha and Tony survey the garage and keep watch.

Natasha’s confusion sky rockets when she sees the digital clock in the corner. The time reading 4:10 and the date reading 11/13/32.

That’s seven years in the-

“Bingo!’ Carol exclaims, finding something, just as Tony says,“ uh ladies-”

“Hands up, disarm yourselves, and step away from my car.”

All hands raise, a clang sounding through the area at the crowbar Carol dropped. And slowly they turn to face the source of the voice.

Frowns and wide eyes masking the faces of each person.

“Y/n?” Natasha asks wide eyed.

She watches as you frown, noticing the slight differences in your appearance.

Darker, definitely tanned skin, lighter eyes, is that a wrinkle forming above your brow. You look. . .Older.

Are they really in the-

“Who are you? Whatever sick game this is, cut it out now! I know all about aliens shapeshifting and facial reconfiguration tech so cut the shit.” You snap, aiming your gun at Natasha but keeping your eyes on Tony and Carol.

Tony laughs,“ we could say the same. How do we know this isn’t some mind trick being played by that energy wielding guy.”

Your frown deepens.

Natasha can’t believe this.

There’s always a way to find out if this is real. She’s had her mind altered enough to be able to spot unrealistic inconsistencies. If this is, in fact, a mind game, somethings bound to be missing.

“Y/n,” Natasha’s voice speaks and she watches the familiar tick of your ears as you focus on the sound of her voice.

She considers this being real. A small detail like that couldn’t be mimicked so perfectly in a mind game.

“My name is Natasha.”

You falter. Hands clench the gun in harder as you look over at her.

“Sure it is. And that’s Tony and Carol. I’m not stupid. If you’re the real Natasha where’s your car?”

They’d all noticed the empty spot in the obvious two car garage.

Her car? Why would her car be here? Wherever here is?

Their lack of reply has you taking a small threatening step forward,“ drop the façade or I shot and I promise I don’t hesitate.”

Natasha’s green eyes search yours and she’s sure this isn’t a mind game. But something is definitely wrong. In order to figure that out she has to stay alive. Which meant proving she’s actually Natasha.

“This isn’t a façade Y/n. We’re not aliens and we’re not wearing any face tech.” She speaks slowly to calm you as she’s coming to terms with what’s happening in her own mind.

It’s not far fetched. She’d been to the future before it just was a lot more complicated than the simple touch of an enhanced individual.

But you’re still frowning,“ prove it.”

She wracks her brain for a way to prove it’s her. So she needs fact.

“You have a scar on your thigh just above your knee.” She rushes out, eyes flickering to your finger on the trigger and back to your eyes,“ you got it in Thailand. We were leaving a base and while I was securing the data we retrieved you jumped in front of me and were shot in the leg.”

Confusion clouds your eyes, the frown that had been aggressive now curious. If you’re the real Y/n, and this is indeed the future, you’d remember that. It was your first mission with Natasha alone.

The mission that had drawn you two so close together. She’d learned she could trust you and your friendship bloomed from there.

“What’s going on?” You breathe, hand still holding the gun, finger hovering by the trigger despite it being at your side.

Something Natasha had taught you when you were a recruit at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Carol slowly moves around the car to speak directly to you,“ we aren’t sure. We woke up a few miles south of here. We were trying to find a way home.”

“Actually,” Natasha steps forward,“ I think we’re in the future.”

The woman’s words receive frowns from everyone. Not because it makes no sense but because they aren’t sure how she’s drawn that conclusion. So she steps aside and points to the clock she’d seen.

Carol gasps quietly and Tony groans,“ why hadn’t I considered that?” He mumbles to himself more so than anyone.

Hearing this makes your freeze and stare at the three people in your garage. And Natasha watches, especially as panic flickers in your eyes. Said eyes then snapping to the black sports car pulling into the driveway.

“Stay here. Don’t move.” You sigh, pushing two buttons on your way out of the garage.

Lights flicker on above as majority of the sunlight is cut off by the closing garage door.

Tony quickly turns back to the two,“ we need to get to the compound. I need my lab to figure out how to get us back. I’d need to find a way to recreate the time space gps but alter the time mechanism to be permanent. If not we’ll end up coming back to this time and-” his words trail off. The man heading to the table behind Natasha as he picks up a piece of paper and stats writing.

Carol and Natasha know that he’s no doubt working on the solution.

It’s exactly thirty seven minutes later when you return. The garage’s side door opening instead as you come in, an overly familiar red head behind you.

Eyes widen to the size of saucers this time.

Also it turns out, seeing yourself in the past/future breaks no time traveling rules. Proved by the fact that Natasha is staring into her own green eyes from across the garage.

Her older self chuckles, looking at the older you, then mumbling something only you hear.

Natasha watches intently, picking up on the body language of the older versions of herself and you. The way the two stand in each other’s personal space. The hand her older self has on your lower back. The way they look at each other. The just barely grazing hands. The rings?

Are you two-

“So, messing with time traveling again.” Older Natasha jokes.

Little does the group realize, the memories of this problem are piecing together in her mind. Same as yours.

Tony rises from his seat,“ you two wouldn’t happen to be able to get us in the compound would you?”

“You won’t need the compound. Turns out your tech obsession pays off. You have a lab here, follow me.” Older you tells the billionaire before waving for them to follow.

All of you leave the garage. Natasha trails behind, mind still racing about what she’s seeing and the assumptions she’s making.

She knows what a romantic relationship looks like. She understands the closeness of that kind of relationship. She just doesn’t understand you and her having that kind of-

“Don’t let what you see here change things.” Her own voice speaks to her, but she can hear how it’s matured.“ No matter what you see here, let everything play itself out.” Older her speaks, side eyeing her.

Younger Natasha frowns,“ what am I goin-”

“MOMS!!”

Everyone halts in their steps at the small but loud voices.

Younger Natasha sees the smirk on her older self, then the look she gives the older you.

“I’ll handle it.” Older her smiles,“ it’s best you get them back to their present before space and time rips itself apart.”

Even as they all turn to keep following you, Natasha finds herself curiously looking back.

Older her climbs the steps of the back porch, happily scooping a young h/c boy into her arms, and kissing his cheek. Then grabbing the hand of a slightly older red head girl.

Moms.

Moms?

Natasha ends up with children. Children with you. Her friend.

What?

The two of you are just friends. But that changes along the way?

How is she supposed to not let this change things? She marries you!

“Natasha!” Carol’s voice pulls the red head from her thoughts,“ you okay?” She back tracks with concerned eyes.

It’d be easy to say no. She knows Carol sees what she sees. It’s actually pretty clear.

So she nods and gives an assuring smile.

Carol doesn’t completely buy it, but she understands how this wouldn’t exactly be easily processed, so she goes with it. The two simply following after your older self and Tony who are both talking through the plan to get home.

None of them are expecting you to take them to a shed in the woods, that doubles as an elevator. The metal box taking them down to a fully functioning lab.

Tony’s eyes light up at the familiar and unfamiliar instruments around.

“Don’t break anything Stark. I know you haven’t invented half of this stuff yet.” Older you snaps at the giddy looking man.

Holding himself together, the man asks,“ why is this lab here?”

“I take it upon myself to learn a thing or two from you. Also you and Morgan like to tinker when you come to visit.”

An amused scoff leaves his lips. So Morgan is just as into tech as her dad seven years in the future.

“So let’s get you back to your time so you can experience all as the universe intended.” Older you moves around the lab easily.“ This’ll take time. And I’m talking days so get comfortable.”

* * * * * *

“God dammit!” You exclaim, fist colliding with the triple paned glass separating you and the enhanced man.

It’s been days. Questioning him, threatening, and even beating him and he hasn’t said a word. Bucky had to pull you from the guy when you’d angrily went into his cell.

Your frustrations had gotten the better of you.

All you know is that he’s a H.Y.D.R.A experiment. His powers derivative of the scepter which held the space stone. That’s how he was able to make them disappear.

But you still have no idea where he sent them. Space encompasses too much.

“Alright, Y/n, I think it’s best you take a break. We’ll keep questioning him but you need to step away before things get out of hand again.” Steve speaks calmly, knowing you’re upset but also that you shouldn’t let your anger carry.

Taking a deep calming breath, you step back, turn on your heel, and leaving.

No one follows. Giving you space to relax.

Hands run through your disheveled hair as you leave the building altogether. A growl leaves your mouth as frustrated tears pool in your eyes.

You’d dealt with losing Natasha and Tony in the past. It’d taken years to bring them back from what had happened with your final battle against Thanos. You can’t lose them again.

You need them. You need her. She’s your closest friend here.

“And here I was thinking Natasha’s emotionlessness had rubbed off on you.”

You roll your eyes,“ are you ever not a smart ass Stark.”

Wait. Stark!

The three friends stand a few feet ahead of you with smiles on their faces and you just stare at them in shock.

“You’re back!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around Carol and Tony first. The two hugging back.

Once they let you go, you pull Natasha straight into you.“ Almost thought I lost you there best friend.” You joke, despite the now happy tears in your eyes.

Natasha doesn’t make some sarcastic or joking comment back. She just squeezes you tighter and holds you a little longer.

“Everything okay?” You whisper, now wondering if something bad had happened wherever they were.

You feel her head shake,“ everything’s fine.” She pulls away.

Her eyes catch your frown.

“What happened? Where’d you go?”

A knowing smile hits Natasha lips,“ you’ll find out. Eventually.”

* * * * * *

I honestly don’t know. I hope this fits the request. I wasn’t even sure how to begin it but I hope it makes sense.

One down nine to go😅

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #asks #request #reader insert

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koreanmadeingreece · 4 years

Text

Why, why, why (3)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp.

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 1.8K (I should let you know that I’ve finished writing it so I’ll update it every 3 or 4 days!)

Part 3/I don’t remember First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

When you entered the house, V ran into your arms for an embrace, calling you his savior, as you had just brought the food, which made the others laugh. When you reassured them again that you were okay with treating them, you all sat down in your freshly cleaned living room to eat.

That was when you noticed Yuta sitting a bit further than the others, eating quietly, and decided to come a bit closer to him.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” You tried to joke around since no one would listen to you. The others were arguing about one of the professors at uni and if he’s single, so they wouldn’t even notice you switching places.

“Oh, sorry, it was just that I was thinking about something. It shouldn’t make you worry, really,” he answered.

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t talked to me all day. I mean, I know you just met me this morning and that I’m not your friend, but I’d love to get to know you a bit better.”

“I’m okay with that, don’t worry about me. I’m just paranoid sometimes and I’m thinking a bit too much about certain things, so just ignore me when I do that, okay?”

“So, we’re off to a good start, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” He smiled at you. This was the second smile he had offered you ever since this morning, and it kind of made you light up a bit. You still didn’t know what made you so interested in him. You just had to get to know him.

The next day was similar to the first, as you had to finish cleaning and start unpacking both yours and Taeyong’s things and decorate the living room. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t have a much different taste than yours, so it was actually easy to decide what you’d hang on the walls and what color the couch pillows would be. The biggest issue was your rooms and what you’d do with them.

You took the boxes with your stuff and Johnny immediately came to help, offering to also help you with your room. V followed you and Yuta went to help Taeyong. You enjoyed their company a lot if you were going to be completely honest, and you secretly thought they’d let you join them sometimes. You really thought you weren’t a burden for them, as they’ve been friends for years and you just came to disrupt their lives. You’d never even think of causing a problem to them, so you waited patiently for any signs that would show you how they felt about you. There was just one thing you had to ask.

“So, how did you guys meet?” you asked, as you were placing your clothes in the closet.

“Do you mean us two, or…”

“All of you. How did you become like… a group?”

“Ah, funny story,” V said, “I got into a fight on my first day of uni. Someone just came straight to me and called me names because I was zoning out, and Johnny with Taeyong came to my rescue.”

“Aw, they’re true heroes,” you laughed.

“Something like that. Taeyong and Johnny met right there in front of me, and then we all decided to go to lunch together. Then Yuta came. Taeyong had met him a few hours earlier and told him to go to lunch with him, so we all sat together. And we clicked.”

Johnny nodded in agreement and gave you a stack of clothes to put away, while V was telling the story from your bed. You hadn’t put the sheets on it yet, so it was only a mattress, but it worked well for him.

“I don’t know if I should be asking this but are Taeyong and Yuta that close? I mean, he doesn’t tell me much over the phone, and with all the stuff going on because of the house we haven’t really talked yet,” you asked.

“They’re close. They’re not together if that’s what you’re asking. They’re just really good friends. If you ask me, we make a great group. It’s just that he always was a bit more protective over Taeyong, but Yuta’s definitely straight. If he wasn’t I’m sure they’d already been together by now,” Johnny told you and you continued putting clothes away, when Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “Don’t mind him. He might seem a bit distant, but he’ll open up eventually. It’s probably that you’ve been friends with Taeyong for so long and he feels kind of left out.”

“Oh my god, have I done anything like that?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. He was thinking about it ever since he found out you’d move with Taeyong but, trust me, you haven’t done anything. I mean, you didn’t make any of us feel bad. You’re actually fun to be around. You can come to hang out with us whenever you want, okay?” Johnny’s words were music to your ears. What you were hoping for was coming true. Your new life had officially started taking its form, and you were ecstatic about it.

Your house was finally ready, your posters were on the walls and your clothes were in the closet. After you made your bed and had V try it out, you could finally sit and enjoy it.

“Did you call your mom? She’s probably scared to death that she just let you handle a new house on our own,” Taeyong told you after the guys left.

“I did and I also sent her pictures. She’s thrilled.”

“Your dad?”

“Mom said he just nodded. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You sat on the couch next to Taeyong.

“He doesn’t get really involved, does he?”

“Only when he’s in the mood. Which happens about… five times a year?”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Yeah, especially when he missed my gymnastics performance.” You took a bite of your sandwich.

“Well, now you’re here. If he doesn’t want to lose you, he has some work to do. Now, will you give me a bite?” And that was how the evening passed with Taeyong. You were calm, relaxed and it was exactly how you imagined it to be. All you had to worry about for the time being was the first day of uni.

You woke up the next morning and looked too pale to be human, as you had barely managed to sleep last night. You got dressed in one of your favorite outfits, a loose red shirt and black ripped jeans, and washed your face before putting some mascara and lipstick on. When Taeyong confirmed you looked hot, you were ready to go. Taeyong left you outside of the building of your first class and left for his class.

You went inside and found a seat not too close to the professor, and soon after, you noticed a tall guy approaching you and taking the seat next to you.

“First day, huh?” he asked you. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m kind of stressed too. What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Yugyeom. It’s nice to meet you.” He extended his arm to you for a handshake.

“I’m Y/N.” And that was your first acquaintance. He seemed really nice. Kind, at least. You liked him at a first glance. He turned to speak to you quite a few times during our first class, but he didn’t annoy you. He was quite pleasant to be around.

After a while, you heard someone enter the room, stumbling on the stairs.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said and took the seat next to you, on the opposite side of Yugyeom. “Was I too loud?” he whispered to you.

“No, don’t worry about it. No one’s going to remember it tomorrow anyway,” you smiled at him.

“I hope so. And, if they do, at least I made them laugh.” He smiled back. “I’m Chan.”

“I’m Y/N and this is Yugyeom,” you said and shook hands with him as well.

When the first class was over, you headed to the other classroom for the next period and sat next to the two boys you had just met. They were extremely fun to be with, especially Chan, who was a walking mess and extremely clumsy.

You suggested going for coffee after class, so you texted Taeyong not to pick you up and walked next to Chan and Yugyeom, who knew a nice coffee shop around the corner. You found a table and sat down when you saw a guy approaching your table.

“Hey, Yugyeom, wasn’t he sitting close to us in class?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. Should we tell him to sit with us?” And, before you could even answer, Yugyeom was already standing up from his chair. “Hey! Wanna sit with us?”

“Uh, sure.”

“We saw you in class, we’re not creeps, I promise,” you reassured him. “This is Yugyeom and this is Chan.”

“I’m BamBam.”

“BamBam?” Chan asked. “Is it a nickname?”

“Yeah, I’m from Thailand and no one actually remembers my real name, so I use this one instead.”

“Oh, that’s so interesting!” Yugyeom was amazed and started talking to BamBam nonstop, which he didn’t seem to mind, so you just talked to Chan until Yugyeom’s rant ended.

“Would you like to order?” The waiter interrupted you. He was standing next to your table for a while, but no one had noticed him.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said and turned towards him, as he was standing beside you. That was when you noticed how hot he looked and, right after everyone ordered, you turned to Chan. “I don’t know if you’re gay, straight, or anything else, but that one was hot as fuck.”

“I’m bi, and yes he was. You should ask for his number.”

“Chan, I’m not that bold.”

“Yeah, but you have nothing to lose. Look, we can send you to pay when we’re done, so you can talk to him without us there. That doesn’t involve any flirting, right?”

“Fine. Give me your money, y’all.” The other two guys turned to you in shock, but Chan promised to explain while you were gone. So, you got up and walked towards the register.

“Hi,” you told him. When he turned towards you, you deeply wished you hadn’t agreed to this. He was too handsome for you to handle.

“Ah, they sent you to pay?” He laughed.

“Yeah, they did.” You paused and contemplated if you should continue the conversation when your thoughts were interrupted.

“Um, I’m sorry if it’s weird to ask, but what’s your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, that’s a beautiful name. I’m Jonghyun. Do you happen to go to uni here?”

“Yeah, film major. This is my first year. What about you?”

“Me too! But I’m in the third year.” He smiled at you, but he was called to a table and had to go. “You should come by again tomorrow. I can treat you to a cup of warm coffee. My shift ends at 6.”

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zackmartin · 3 years

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for Maddie and London who's more physically affectionate, whats one way their personalities compliment each other, and what would their perfect date be like :)

Okay, first, thank you so much for sending me this because I’m obsessed with them and this gave me so much serotonin 🥺💕 but also, I’m sorry it took me literally two days to answer it lasdjfk I have a really bad habit of taking a entire week or more to answer asks from ask games cause I get lazy really fast 😬

OTP Questions

who's more physically affectionate?

Okay. I didn’t intend for this to be the tiniest bit angsty, but. I feel like, at least at first, probably London? Like, I don’t want to make it sound like London doesn’t have anyone (Especially since they made it pretty clear in SLOZAC that the Boston employees treated her like a member of their own, and Moseby is literally her Dad, I’ll die on that hill, and I would never disrespect everything he did for her by saying she has no one) But just. She lived in that Suite by herself, we never even see her actual father until one of the very last episodes of On Deck (and you cannot tell me he was giving her hugs in those few times a year he’d bother to visit her like. In SLOZAC he wouldn’t even let his security guards part so she could see his face), and we know her Mom is gone, and outside of the maternal grandmother we met in the Thailand episode of On Deck, they never really told us that she had any other relatives to speak of (or, ones that cared anyway). So, my really long-winded point is that I can imagine that London might be a little touch-starved?

So I could see London being the more physically affectionate one in the beginning, just to make up for the lack of affection she received growing up, but then when they get older and they’ve been together for years and it’s clear to London that they’re pretty much in this for the long haul and that affection she’s been receiving isn’t suddenly going to disappear one day,,, I can see it sort of balancing out. And then it just sort of becomes whatever mood they’re in that day.

whats one way their personalities compliment each other?

I feel like the show really did a great job of showing us how they complimented each other, which, I think, is why a lot of us now are like “they’re soulmates” (or maybe when it was airing if you were enlightened, unlike me laksjdf) Like, idk, they really just. They were so good at bringing out the best in each other (like the Christmas episode, which drives me insane in the best way, when London literally handmakes a sweater for Maddie. Like, you cannot tell me that London would go to THAT amount of effort for anyone else, except Moseby. And I know Maddie was a little selfish about it at first but she finally realized how hard London worked on it and she learned to treasure it) But they were also really great about being there for each other when they weren’t at their best (like, when Maddie helped London realize that she had a tendency to spend exuberant amounts of money when she was upset, and helping her realize that she just needed to find alternative outlets for her frustrations) (OR when Maddie was literally the only person that stood by London when she lost her fortune).

I feel like I’m not really answering the question alsdjkf but honestly I just don’t know how because I feel like the show itself already did a perfect job of showing us how they complimented each other in ways that made them perfect for each other 🤷🏻‍♀️

what would their perfect date be like?

I feel like they probably have wildly different definitions of the perfect date alsdkjf At least when they go out, so it ends up having to be a compromise a lot of the times. Like Maddie saying “I’ll do this red carpet with you, but that means you have to see this arthouse movie with me next week” “Is this one I have to read?” “Unless you know French, yes” (although, Iike to HC that London knows some French, considering she jets off to Paris all the time)(also like to HC that Zack forced her into teaching him a few key phrases he can use to flirt with girls)(really found a way to shoehorn him into a discussion that has fuck all to do with him, huh aslkdjf good for me, honestly)

But, we’re talking about perfect dates here.

Honestly, a perfect date for them (at least in my head) is a night in, where they order room service or take-out, and they’re in comfy (but cute; it’s still a date after all alskdj) pajamas and Maddie is showing London those bad teen movies from the late 90s/early 2000s that would’ve been a staple of her childhood, and definitely ones that would’ve been shown at any sleepovers Maddie would’ve attended in her childhood. Like, that just seems perfect to me because they're alone so London doesn't have to put on the " heiress London Tipton" facade and can just be herself, and she's getting to experience something she always wanted to but never got a chance to growing up. And on Maddie's side,,, sure, she's in a fancier suite than she'd probably ever experience in her lifetime had she not known the literal heir to the Tipton fortune, but she's been it so many times now she's learned to be comfortable in it, and this isn't a situation where she has to be wear a fancy dress she can't afford, or be around a bunch of rich snobs that drive her insane alsdjf And she also gets to be with the London she really cares for (as in, not It Girl London Tipton, or heiress London but just. London)

#asks #lmao wow. I am SO long-winded i'm sorry #i really don't know how to be chill #thank you for this though this was so fun 🥺#I don't get to talk about the suite life a lot so those few times I get to just dump out my thoughts like this. *chef's kiss*

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oh-so-scenarios · 5 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 11

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Warning: Its starts to get....steamy. The next few chapters will. This chapter is kind of a filer. Next chapter might be a Hoseok POV. We’ll see.

* Please ignore any errors!

(Word Count: 7.32K)

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Y/N:

It’s dark. It’s dark but it’s not scary. How long has it been? How much time has passed since I last opened my eyes? I don’t remember.

It’s warm.

I can hear movement. The shuffling of feet? Whispers? Hushed voices and the humming of the air conditioning. Where am I?

My body aches as I gain feeling in my legs again. Starting from the tips of my toes and up my thighs. It’s a tight and stinging sensation that makes me want to groan but I can't. My throat feels so cramped. My eyes stung and they began to water as I struggled to open my eyes.

Wtf. Why does it feel like I’ve been asleep for a short moment, but my body is asking like it’s been in a long and stiff slumber?

I managed to get my eyes opened, first being overloaded by the white lights followed by the frantic whispers.

“Y/n?” The small voice said. I was still trying to figure out what I was seeing, as my eyes adjusted to everything around me.

“Y/n?” This time I recognized the voice. It was Jennie. I finally found the strength to move my neck and meet a smiling Jennie. Her smile was happy, while her eyes showed a mix of relief and sadness. My eyes darted around the room, noticing Jimin and Jungkook who was looking at me with small smiles.

They leaned against the wall opposite of Jennie and were watching me closely.

“Sleeping beauty finally awoke,” Jungkook said softly. His voice was soft and sounded like he was recovering from a cold.

The slight chuckle that played on his lips wasn’t enough to get me out of my trance. For a moment, I forgot what had happened, and why I was in the….hospital? This isn’t a hospital. This is...the headquarters? I’m in the room where Jennie and I do our work.

My eyes darted around the place, widened as my memories came flooding in.

The club. Hoseok. I was shot. I moved quickly to sit up, hissing slightly at how stiff my legs felt. As well as the slight tightening pain from my left side.

“Take it easy,” Jennie said, putting her hands on my shoulders. I ignored her words and sat up, my face scrunching up due to the tightness in my back.

“How--” My voice gets caught in my throat, The one word I could get out sound gritty and broken. Like an older woman who had forgotten to speak and decided to clear the spider webs from her vocal cords.

My hand went right to my neck, looking at Jennie in shock. She giggled a bit, looking towards the two guys who had their lips pressed tightly together. They also wanted to laugh.

My brows scrunched up at them, a bit of annoyance entering my system.

“Sorry Y/n, but you sound awful,” Jennie said, placing a comforting hand on my thigh. She laughed for a few seconds before her face started to turn red. At first, I thought it was from laughing too much, but I soon noticed the tears welling up in her eyes.

She still smiled, reaching for my hand and squeezing it tightly.

“We’re just glad you’re awake.” She said softly, fighting the sob that made its way up my throat.

After calming down, she takes a deep breath and continues to speak, “Y/n, you were out for 5 days.”

5 days? My eyes searched everyone’s face for answers, I looked to Jungkook, and the question in my eyes was clear.

“Hoseok hyung was here earlier, he had to leave for some work. But….he’s been weird lately.’ Jungkook answered. He shakes his head as if wanting to erase the last bit of his words.

“I’ll let him know you’re awake.” Jungkook pulled his phone from his pocket, walking out of the room as he dialed something.

The room was silent for a while before Jimin stepped up to say something, “It was a scary 5 days Y/n. Jennie did everything she could. She took the bullet out, stopped the bleeding and patched you up. It wasn’t something too serious. At least that’s what Jennie said.”

Jennie nodded, using the back of her hand to wipe her tears, “I did everything correctly, so when you weren’t waking up...it was scary.”

They kept speaking, talking to me about my condition and how worried they were. Their words weren’t sticking, my mind was still hazy and the seriousness of the situation hasn't hit me yet. I was out for 5 days? Is that considered a coma?

I glanced down at my side, pushing my hospital gown up a bit until I saw the bandaged area. It was a little above my hip, and just at the bottom of my waist. Jennie said something about being lucky that the bullet didn’t hit my hip bone, or else there was nothing she could have done.

After Jungkook returned with a water bottle and a strained smile, I knew something was up. I took the water bottle from him, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Where is Hoseok?” My voice was scratchy and dry. It sounded like I struggled to get the three words out. And honestly, my throat was already strained.

“He is busy with work,” Jungkook said nervously, “But he’s come to visit you the past 5 days. I’m sure he’ll stop by soon.”

He didn’t. Hoseok didn’t stop by. He hasn’t come to the headquarters at all. He hasn’t been answering my calls and he’s been ignoring my text messages. All we’ve heard from him is simple orders to the guys.

Seriously….what the fuck is his problem? After one day, I understood. Maybe he really is busy but it’s been 3 days now. I won’t be okay to return to work for another week, and I have a slight limp because my side shoots in pain when I walk. Jennie said it shouldn’t last for long.

So here I sat, at the round table of the headquarters with Yoongi who was reviewing some instructions from Hoseok. Even the guys don’t know what Hoseok has been up to. But if he was truly worried like they explained to me, why hasn’t he come to see me?

He hasn’t been seen at the hospital. I had a few co-workers, texting me with questions. Was I really sick? Did Hoseok and I run off on a vacation? He wasn’t making it to chairman meetings and he wasn’t answering other business phone calls.

I was getting worried. I’ve gone from confused, to angry and now I’m just sad. Did I do something wrong?

When I asked the guys if this was normal behavior form Hoseok, but the vague answers I got told me this was also something new for them.

Jennie held my hand softly, her small smile bringing me no comfort at all. Though she tried to cheer me up with plans for Hoseok's birthday. He agreed to be there for whatever we planned, and that he would sit through whatever craziness we had planned. But I can’t help but worry about the awkward interaction.

The first time I’ll see him since I woke will be on his birthday? Should I just muster up a smile and act like I wasn’t hurt? Cause my feelings are hurt. It feels like we took some steps back, and a cold distance in growing between us again.

It often leaves me replaying that night in my head. Did Hoseok already have a plan in mind and I ruined it?

“So we picked out the cake, making sure it has green on it in some type of way.” Jennie further explained, but my dazed expression was enough for a tired sigh to leave her lips.

“I’m sorry,” I snapped out of my trance, apologizing quickly. She showed me a small smile, the pink lipstick on her lips looking so natural that I questioned if there was any lipstick at all. Her hair was down, tousled and in light waves as she squeezed my hand.

“I don’t know what to tell you Y/n. I don’t understand Hoseok’s behavior. He was so...beside him when you were shot. He sat there quietly, not talking anymore. He was zoning out with that same poker face of his but his legs shook with nervousness.”

I rolled my eyes at her. She’s said this same thing before and I’m getting tired of hearing it.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Jennie. He cares for me so much, and yet he isn’t here.”

“You know how men are! They can’t express their emotions well! And Hoseok is a manly man! So he probably doesn’t know how to face you! Or does he blame himself?”

She lets go of my hand scratches the back of her head with confusion. I turned my attention back to Yoongi, tuning into the things he was discussing. Other than Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung were also absent, but I lacked the energy to ask their whereabouts.

“So Hoseok wants to look more into our further….branches. He wants us to check in on those in Japan, China, and Thailand.” He pulls out some files, reading them briefly before speaking.

“He wants to tighten things up and make sure everything is running correctly since he’s been very focused on the Seoul branch of the network.” Yoongi’s eyes flicker my way. I knew Hoseok’s mafia network was large, but I didn’t realize it stretched that far. Yoongi further goes into detail on the growing number of people who are working under “Seok”.

I was genuinely focused on Yoongi's words when the metal double doors were pushed open so forcefully that the guys at the table were ready to reach for their guns. Jennie and I spun around in our seats, ready to possibly make a run for it when my heart shot up into my throat.

The man I’ve been wanting to see so desperately strolled wearing a grey loose t-shirt and black joggers with black combat boots. His hair was a bit of a mess, not the usual gelled together look I’ve seen from him. His eyes met mine right away, and though I couldn’t see any reaction, my heart soared.

I was so focused on him that I didn’t notice the beat-up man he dragged in behind him. The guy had his head hung down, with his hands tied and his mouth gagged with a cloth. His build was bigger than Hoseok and he had broad shoulders with visible muscles on his arms. He was bleeding. I couldn’t tell the source, but the blood was certainly his own.

My eyes drifted to Jimin and Taehyung who trailed behind Hoseok, two more battered men being dragged along with them. They were headed towards us.

Jungkook who had been unusually quiet today, gawked, “So this is what you guys were up to?” His voice held a slight giggle to it as he stood up out his seat to walk around to my side of the table. Hoseok stops in front of me, leaving about three feet between us.

I stare back with wide eyes, his expression giving nothing away as his eyes moved across my face, and up and down my body.

I suddenly felt weird in the dark wash skinny jeans and red graphic tee I wore. I opened my mouth to speak but Hoseok quickly pushed the man forward, bringing him to his knees before me. Jimin and Taehyung did the same with the other two, so the three men were lined up in front of me. All three men looked scared, breathing heavily. I leaned away, looking towards Hoseok who was watching me closely.

He looks towards Taehyung and Jimin, almost giving them a silent signal. They removed the cloth from the mouths of all three men who gasped for air.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” Hoseok hissed at the men. A chill ran up my back. I haven’t heard his voice in a while. The three men look at me, and I stare back. Still confused.

“Fuck that bitch!” The bigger once snarls, glaring at Hoseok who stood beside me. Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair, seemingly weighing his options. Hoseok suddenly kicks the man in the back, making him fall to the floor on his face.

I gasp, this being the first time I see Hoseok really be violent. The man’s cheek is now pressed against the floor. Hoseok sets a foot on the back of the man’s neck.

“Apologize to the lady.” He yells this time. The other two men proceed to start speaking small apologizes to me. I am still confused, as the man on the floor struggles to lift his head.

“You’re lucky she woke before I got my hands on you. She’s one to show mercy, I’m not.” Hoseok adds. I’ve never seen Hoseok so...angry. His words tremble with his anger as the guys watch on. They’ve seen Hoseok like this before. I haven’t.

“Hoseok, wait.” My voice came out softly, and I moved forward to take hold of his hand. He flinches back like I was on fire.

“I’m giving you 5 seconds.” Hoseok doubles down, stepping down harder on the man’s neck.

“I-I’m sorry for s-shooting you.” The man on the floor manages to get out. Oh! That’s who these men are! They’re the ones from the club. My memory of that night is still a bit foggy so I couldn’t remember their faces till now.

Hoseok takes his foot off the man’s neck, proceeding to kick him in the side. The only ones who seem to react to this are Jennie and I. The both of us only see the docile and quiet Hoseok most of the time. Hoseok nods towards the men, and Jungkook steps closer to bring the kicked man to his feet.

Jimin and Taehyung did the same with the other two men, before walking towards that other hallway.

“In the blue room.” He commands over his shoulder. I step forward as he does, thinking he was coming to speak to me. He instead walks right by me, leaving me frozen in shock.

“Hyung,” Hoseok says towards Seokjin who had been watching everything unfold, “Push back the meeting with the art buyers. Make it sometime next week.” I’m still standing there, frozen in my spot. What is going on? Why do I feel like crying?

I am snapped back to reality as Hoseok walks around from Seokjin and past me.

“Hoseok,” I call, my voice not sounding too confident. I walk after him, making his steps slow to a stop. He turns around to look face me and I almost shrink back. There it was. That look of indifference that I hadn’t seen in so long.

The slight smile I’ve become used to was no more. The cheerful twinkle I thought I was seeing in his eyes was also gone. He glared down at me, making me feel like a bother the longer his attention was on me.

“I haven’t seen you since I woke up. I missed you.” I said matter of factly, trying my best to muster up a smile. He continues to look down at me, the silence surrounding us crushing me the longer it goes on.

“Hoseok?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, “Is everything okay?”

I watch his eyes flicker up and down my body for a moment. It doesn’t feel the same as it usually does.

“Ho-” I’m cut off as he turns around without a word and makes his way down the hallway. I can feel the guys in the lobby on my back as I stand there frozen. My face grows hot and my heart feels like it’s dropped to the floor. I watched his back disappear into the hallway and the Hoseok I saw before this incident seemed to have disappeared.

“Y/n?” I felt Jennie’s presence behind me. I spun around, plastering a fake smile on my lips. I noticed Yoongi and Seokjin watching on with what was clearly pity.

“I guess he’s not in much of a talking mood.” I tried to sound happy, my eyes avoiding the sad gazes on me.

“Let’s go back to party planning.” I almost whisper, keeping my eyes on my feet.

~!~

“You didn’t have to come and visit me!” Mrs. Cho shouted as I pulled up a seat beside her bed. She smiled widely and I couldn’t help but smile back, though I wasn’t in the best mood.

“I hadn’t seen you in a while! I wanted to see how you were doing.” I answered, managing to cross my legs. She reached out to take a hold of my hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I was told you were going to be out for some time, and that you were hurt.” She said in a low voice, “I don’t know the details of what happened but I hope all is well.” I nodded to reassure her.

“Everything is fine.” I answered, “I’m coming along well. I’ll be back to walking down the hospital hallways soon. Don’t you worry.”

She shakes my hand in excitement, the smile on her face seeming to light up the whole room.

“How is your husband?” I questioned, as we feel into our normal conversation. She takes in a slow inhale and exhales even slower. The once wide smile fades into a grimace. Her lips twist up in thought and she shakes her head.

“Nothing.” She says flatly, “He hasn’t shown any sign of waking.” She pauses and continues speaking.

“Sitting there waiting for your loved one to wake up is maddening. I don’t know when he’ll wake up if he will...what problems I will face when he wakes up. All I can do is sit there and stare at his close eyes, secretly hoping they’ll open and those eyes will be looking back at me.”

Her voice falls to a whisper, “It’s maddening and horrifying. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“I can’t imagine.” My voice also falls to a whisper.

“Every day that passes is torture.” Her voice wavers and tears begin to form in her eyes. We sit there in silence for some time, letting the solemn atmosphere pass over us.

“How do you think you’ll react when he wakes up?” I ask. Mrs. Cho looks away from the window where the sun shined high in the sky. She stares at me for a second, as if she heard the question wrong and looked back to the window.

“I’d take him up in my arms and never let him go.” She looks back at me curiously, “Why?”

When I don’t answer she leans towards me, “I knew something was wrong from the moment you walked in.”

“There is this guy--” She squeals, smiling widely.

“I knew it! There is no way a woman as beautiful as yourself is alone!”

I chuckle at her eagerness, “Well, he’s not exactly my boyfriend. He is my soulmate.”

Mrs. Cho nods, understanding the situation from just that sentence, “Ah so it’s one-sided?”

I shake my head, “No, I wouldn’t say that. Things were progressing. He’s kind of hard to read and he’s stubborn but I can’t get enough of him.” The shy smile that pulled on my lips was followed by Mrs. Cho giggled.

“When I got hurt he was very worried but since I’ve been recovering, he’s been avoiding and ignoring me. It’s like we’re at the beginning all over again.”

“And you’re confused?”

“Basically. I don’t know if he’s realized he doesn’t like me or maybe I’m too clumsy--”

“I don’t think it’s any of those things Y/n.” Mrs. Cho interjected, “This guy of yours reminds me of someone I used to know.”

She pauses, a flashback of some sort playing in her mind before she sighed.

“He cared for me deeply. He loved me and took care of me. But, the moment things went wrong and he felt like he didn’t have control over things...he would shut down. He won’t talk to anyone, he won’t tell anyone what is bothering him, he’ll just decide that the problem must be him and want to remove himself.”

“Really?” I was surprised she was talking to me about who seemed to be a past lover. There was some sadness in her voice, so I wasn’t going to dig for more information.

“Oh yeah. He didn’t know how to move on from whatever went wrong, so he’d run from it cause he didn’t want to have whatever conversation had to be had.”

“He was sad about it?”

She shrugs, “I think that was part of it, but he was scared. When people react to someone they love getting hurt in such a way, they are scared. I’ve learned this from my years on this earth. If it’s not anger-driven, it’s probably fear-driven.”

“So what’s the solution?”

She gives me a knowing smile, “Guys like that? They’ll speak up sooner or later. But If I was you, I’d be the first to start the conversation. I don’t know if it’s a pride thing, but they will just not start the conversation.”

I look down at my hands, thinking over her advice for some time.

“What’s this guy’s name?” She questions, her curiosity growing.

“Hoseok,” I answer, keeping my eyes on my lap.

Mrs. Cho is quiet for some time before she speaks again, “What a lovely name.”

~!~

“What am I dressed this cute for?” I muttered to Jennie as she danced around the headquarter lobby with decorations. She was really getting into the whole birthday party thing, to the point of making everyone dress nicely. I sat at the round table staring at the cake that we picked up.

It simply said, ‘Happy Birthday Hoseok’. We didn’t want to go too far with things. Though as I look around at Jennie’s decoration, I can tell that line has already been crossed.

I wore a rusty orange off-shoulder jumpsuit that was form-fitting with a simple orange necklace. My hair was down and resting on my shoulders as I just sat and stared around me. The guys were standing among themselves, talking and chatting. They seemed excited to do something like this for Hoseok and though I wish I could help more, everyone could tell I was down.

It’s been two days since Hoseok seemingly stared at me like I was a stranger and I’ve been feeling off since then. I know I want to say something to him, but I can’t be sure where to start. What should I say? That I’ve missed him? That I jumped in front of him because I couldn’t help it?

What if that bullet killed him? What was I going to do? Should I tell him I think I love him? Would he even care?

Jennie wore a cute blouse with some dark wash jeans and heels. She let her hair down recently and giggled as she noticed Jaehyun struggling with the decorations. She invited Jaehyun cause why not?

Seeing them lovey-dovey only made me urge to fix whatever this spat was between Hoseok and I. I wanted us to find and establish our own normal. Even if our normal isn’t like everyone else.

By the time Hoseok arrives, my mood has turned sour. I’ve gone from sad to angry. I’m also annoyed. What the fuck is his problem?

He strolls in, looking fine as hell in his dark green silk shirt and his black pants with a black belt and a thin silver chain hanging off the belt and clipping to his pants. His hair gelled back as he seemed like he had some work to attend to before getting here.

His eyes scan the room, clearly seeing me standing a bit further back as everyone went to wish him a happy birthday. His eyes didn’t stay on me long. He looked at the guys as they spoke to him, some giving hugs with big smiles.

He smiled slightly, muttering small thank you to the guys. Jennie who stood among them glanced over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were telling me to come over to say happy birthday and all I could do was shake my head, my gaze moving back to Hoseok. I kept my distance most of the small get together.

I avoided sitting near him, and I tried to avoid any conversation with him. Even as everyone joked while sitting around the table, I simply ate my slice of cake and kept my mouth shut. Everyone tried their best to act like the air wasn’t so thick, but it was hard to do. Jungkook would naturally try to bring me into the conversation, resulting in some awkward silence.

After finishing my piece of cake, I stood up with my paper plate, walking over to the trash can and disposing of it. I made my way back to my seat, Jennie giving me a weary smile. I could only nod in reply, taking my phone out from my bag that was on the empty seat beside.

I looked up from the text on my phone in time to see Hoseok’s eyes move their focus off me. He looked off to the side, a scoff leaving his lips.

My brows furrowed in response, my blood beginning to boil again.

“Do you have something to say Hoseok?” My voice was soft, but everyone heard it. The jokes and the laughter stopped, everyone felt like the trigger they wanted was set off. I glare at Hoseok who glares back at me, a mocking grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Of course you don’t.” I snap, “You’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague, acting like you weren’t cuddled up with me two weeks ago.”

“Oh please stop with all that Y/n. Is now really the time for it?” He finally replies. My heart hummed at finally getting him to speak to me.

“It looks like now is the time cause it looks like at this point you’ll never say anything. I’ve tried to be understanding.”

“Have you?” His voice comes out cold and eager. Like I'm about to say something he’s been wanting, so he could tear it down.

“Yes! I understand that you were probably overwhelmed, but ignoring me for all this while? You need to work on your communication skills.”

He chuckles darkly, “Overwhelmed? Y/n, you jumped in front of a bullet.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes I know. It was a stupid move.”

“No.” Hoseok deadpans, “You don’t know Y/n. It was a fucking stupid move.” He raises his voice a bit, leaning forward with a wicked look in his eyes.

“You jumped in front of a bullet, for me, without a second thought. What the hell were you thinking?” He scolded. I leaned back in my seat, looking to Jennie to see what her thoughts were, but her eyes were down on the table. I looked around at the others, and even Jaehyun but no one was meeting my eyes.

“Do you trust me so little Y/n? Do you think I don’t know how to do my job, that you thought I wouldn’t be ready for everything and anything?”

“He was going to shot you--”

“I had a bulletproof vest on Y/n! One of the best! If that bullet hit me I would have been fine Y/n! We knew what we were doing. You should have--”

“I should have what?” My voice came out small, trembling slightly. I can’t be sure if it’s the embarrassment or it’s Hoseok’s yelling that is now causing tears to well up in my eyes.

“I should have just sat back and done nothing?” My eyes start to burn and my vision begins to blur as my tears well up before falling from both eyes and down my cheeks.

“Yes, Y/n. You should have done nothing.” He says like I'm a child. My mouth drops open in shock, surprised at the response.

“Wow. Hoseok does that make fucking sense? I couldn’t have sat there and watched you get killed..” My voice was growing louder as Jennie set a comforting hand on my knee. My shoulders rose and my breaths grew heavy.

“So it’s better for me to sit and watch you die?!” His tone was different from his previous harsh words. He was really asking me a question. Like he wanted to hear what my answer was, but he already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Why do I have to watch you die? Why do I always have to watch everyone die?” His voice is quieter this time, but still speaking like he was spitting acid. He stands up from his seat at the table, pushing the chair away to make his way down the hallway.

Before I could stop myself, I rose from my seat, dashing after him down the hallway.

“Hoseok!” I trailed after him and down the hallway. He was walking quickly, trying to get to his office like I wasn’t calling after him.

“Hoseok!” I called after him again. He made it the double doors of his office, pushing in whatever the number key was and pushing the door open. He rushes into his office, leaving the door open and I follow him inside, shutting the door behind me.

“Hoseok--” He cuts me off quickly, his back facing me as he stared aimlessly at his bookshelf.

“You were out for 5 days Y/n. Jennie said everything went well and you’d wake up after the drugs wore off. One day turned into two days, two days turned into three days and you still weren’t waking up.” I watch his back intently.

“You weren’t moving, you were opening your eyes. You laid there like a fucking vegetable and no one could tell me why you weren’t waking up. I felt like a 16-year-old boy again, watching my father wither away into nothing. Except his time, it was you. I maybe be used to seeing people dead but...”

He trails off, looking over his shoulder to peek at me and my confused facial expression.

“But those people aren’t you so...”

I walk over to him, stepping in front of him and forcing him to look at me.

His face is turning pink and I find myself pouting,

“Hoseok,” My voice comes out softly, “But I’m fine! See!” I grab both his hands and place them on my face, I move them to my waist and I put my hands on both his cheeks, forcing him to look into my eyes.

“I’m fine Hoseok. I told you that you won’t get rid of me. No petty gunshot is gonna take me out.”

“When the guys called and told me you were awake I was relieved but...I don’t know why I felt so worried about seeing you.”

“Hoseok, it’s okay to say you were worried! Everyone told me you were! I wasn’t thinking of how scary it probably was. I just assumed because of the work you do, you’d be used to seeing stuff like that.” I admitted. Hoseok backed up till he was leaning against his large desk. He pulled me along with him, his hands still on my waist.

I drop my hands from his face and begin lecturing him.

“Hoseok, that still doesn’t excuse ignoring me for the past few days? You were being rude and it wasn’t very fair to me. I woke up confused, hurt and I was really really hurt when you didn’t even come to check up on me. It felt like we were moving backward. You can’t do stuff like that, it makes this difficult.”

I was so focused on my hand movements as I rambled on, trying to make sure Hoseok understood how important communication was to me. I was so focused that I didn’t notice the way his hands gripped my waist tighter and brought me closer to him. Our hips were basically touching, any small movement caused our bodies to brush each other.

I was oblivious to the way he narrowed his eyes and the hot gaze that was on me as I spoke. He rubbed circles into my sides with his thumbs.

“...Communication will always be a big thing. Blocking yourself off will always lead to misunderstanding and--” My voice caught in my throat as my eyes finally looked away from the walls it was focusing on as I spoke to the man who stood before me.

His eyes flickering from my eyes to...my lips? He leaned in closer, that familiar smell of his overtaking all my senses.

“You didn’t hear a damn thing I said about communication did you?” I mutter in a disapproving manner. Hoseok chuckles, just confirming my suspicion.

I rolled my eyes, ready to start from the very beginning when he closes in the spaces between us, and his lips meet mine. It was my turn to stiffen at such affection. I thought my heart was gonna explode from the speed in which it was beating.

His lips are warm, soft and tender. He moved forward with such eagerness, but the kiss wasn’t rushed. But the neediness behind it was clear.

Hoseok is...kissing me. That instant spark and the fireworks I expected to feel when I first met my soulmate were saved for this moment because it felt like I was flying. This is why everyone is so desperate to find their soulmate. This connection and this feeling. Nothing could change my mind about this being the man for me when such a light show of sensations is bouncing between us.

The kiss was gentle, and a bit shy. He was worried that I was going to push him away, or tell him I didn’t want this. But, oh did I want this and him.

We both let out a sigh of what feels like a sigh of relief as our lips part. Though I was mostly unresponsive to the kiss, as I was lost in the moment trying to process it, I’m sure he understands that I didn’t hate the kiss.

We sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound between us is our breathing. Hoseok brought his hand up to cup my cheek and he leaned down and reconnected our lips. I couldn’t help the slight whimper that felt my lips as the kiss grew a bit rougher.

Hoseok pressed me flush against him, his lips pressing and moving against mine desperately but slowly. I couldn’t think straight with the way he was kissing me. My body was growing hot with him holding me like this. I couldn’t get close enough. My thoughts were running like a mantra.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

I love him.

I am in love with him. Fuck, I am in love with Hoseok.

As my feelings bloomed in my chest, I pressed back, kissing him back with just as much vigor. A small hum in question left his lips. Our lips left each other for a few seconds, both our chests rising and falling as I watched his eyes move over the exposed skin of my shoulders. I can see the wheels turning in his head.

Oh, how easy it would be to just push down the top part of this jumpsuit. I kind of want him to. I silently thank Jennie for convincing me to go with this off the shoulder outfit.

He brings his gaze up to meet mine and his eyes narrow while his lips pull up into a small smile.

“Oooh.” He coos before I’m being lifted off the ground with his arms around my waist. I hiss a bit at the dull pain from my left side. He squeezed a little too tight, but I didn’t feel the need to comment on it.

I yelp as we’re spun around and I’m being set to sit on his desk. I land gently, my hands resting on his shoulders.

Hoseok places both hands on the desk, caging me between his arms. He brings his lips to my ear and whispers, “What am I supposed to do when you’re giving me eyes like that Y/n?”

A shiver runs up my spine and my hands move from his shoulders to his chest. I only hum in response, my eyes fluttering close.

“You little minx, you’ve been holding back this whole time? Do you want me that bad?” He continues to tease, his lips brushing the other part of my ear.

“At least take me on a date first?” I could hear the smile in his voice. The breathy laugh I let out sounds choked and strained as my hands move from his chest to gripping the fabric of his silk shirt at his sides.

“A date is long overdue, but we know why that hasn’t happened yet.” I retorted and moved back to smile up at him. He smiles back, the fondness in his eyes making me want to scream.

“Yeah, yeah yeah. I know Y/n. Lack of communication can cause misunderstanding and blah, blah blah.” He mumbles, moving back from me. Or as much as he could. He takes one small step back, my hands still holding onto his shirt.

“So let me do some of this communicating and tell you that I’m sorry.” He says, “It wasn’t fair to shut you out like that. I won’t do it again.”

“You probably will, but we’ll work on it.” I jeer before stretching up to peck his lips. Despite the frown on his lips, I kiss him a second time.

“We’ll work on it.” He repeats after me. I nod, agreeing with him.

“Whatever happened to those three guys?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t worry about it, I took care of it.” Is all he says, and I don’t see the need to push it any further.

“Oh!” I perk up, “I forgot to say, happy birthday!”

He rolls his eyes, “Took you long enough!”

“Hey! You were the one ignoring me! I lacked the confidence to approach you. I thought you’d walk past me like I never spoke.”

He hums in response.

“I probably would have.” He answers with a neutral facial expression.

“I know your mannerisms too well,” I say under my breath. We talk for some time. I asked him about how his first birthday party in a while was. He gave me short answers, as I expected, but I still enjoyed the conversation.

We sit in silence for a while when Hoseok takes in a sharp breath. The question that follows took effort. I can tell by how he rushes it out, looking up at the ceiling as he says it. Accompanied by his ears turning a bright red.

“You wanna do this dating thing seriously?”

My eyes widened at him, “Yeah.” I answer a little bit too quickly.

“Cool.” He replies just as swiftly.

“Cool.” I kiss his cheek, drawing back slightly as his head my way, taking the chance to kiss his lips. A lingering kiss that’s interrupted by the ringing of a phone. A small grin leaves Hoseok’s lips, but he decides to ignore the ringing phone.

He starts leaving small kisses along my neck, the action feeling innocent but the way he’d let his lips brush my skin before pecking another kiss caused goosebumps to rise.

“When are you gonna start working again?” He asks, pecking another kiss on the base of my collar bone.

“A few days? I can’t wear heels for a while though. Jennie said I shouldn’t push it.” I answered through labored breaths.

He hums, putting an arm around my waist drawing his face closer into my neck. My breath catches in my throat when his other hand rises, tracing the necklace of my outfit. The bit of cleavage of the off-shoulder piece reveals also being touched by his finger. All he has to do is push the fabric down.

He returns to show my lips' attention, giving me another peck just as the phone starts to ring again.

“You should answer it,” I speak like I’ve been jogging. I’m trying to catch my breath as Hoseok reaches into his pocket, staring at the caller Id before answering. He sets the phone on the desk beside me and puts it on speakerphone.

“Yes?” He answers, keeping the arm around my waist and letting the other hand fall to my thigh.

“Mr. Jung! I hope I am not catching you at a bad time!” A male voice said.

“I answered didn’t I?” Hoseok replies, looking away from the phone at me.

As he caresses my thigh I giggle, “You’re quite touchy aren’t you?” I whisper. His brows furrow and he takes his attention back to the phone.

“...so they want to change the terms of the agreement.” The man finishes his statement. Hoseok shakes his head, a serious frown appearing.

“Tell them it’s not possible. If they want the funding, they need to accept it on my terms. They can go to someone else if they’d like.”

The man sighs, “Sir. We can’t let this project slip through. If we do they’ll go to--”

“Go to who Mr. Robins?” Hoseok barks, “To Wang? I am not worried about losing clients to Mr. Wang. The terms the owners of Project Kane were asking for too much. The amount of money for the stakes in their company was not doable.” I watched intently as he switched to Mr. Jung.

The stern and serious CEO who was known for being able to pick out what investments would be successes and wouldn’t. I did a bit of research on Hoseok as ‘Mr. Jung’.

Known for finding small projects, and seeming to be able to tell when they'll be a success or a failure. Mr. Jung doesn’t fund a project he believes will fail.

“Their terms are crazy Mr. Robins! I am not going to give that much money for such a small project. What will they possibly do with that large sum?” As Hoseok got more into the conversation, I found the need to see myself out.

I hopped off the desk, his arm naturally dropping form around me. I looked at his side profile as he grabbed his phone off the desk, bringing it closer to his lips.

If his lips were looking swollen, I don’t want to know what I look like.

“I’m gonna go.” I mouth when he looks my way. He nods, moving the phone away from his mouth. He wordlessly brings his face closer to mine. I quickly kiss him, on the lips. Feeling my face burn up as our lips parted.

He swiftly turns back to his desk, pulling on the drawers to find some files. I silently make my way out the room, pushing open one of the doors, only to crash into something.

I gasp and peek my head out in time to see Jennie, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jin booking it down the hallway. They were listening in? Or at least trying to. I steal another glance at Hoseok who was now flipping through a folder.

I close the door behind me, starting down the hallway.

“You guys are so nosey!” I shouted as I rounded the corner to the lobby. Those who I saw running down the hallway stood in unnatural poses around the circular table.

I crossed my arms over my chest as I approached.

“Is there no sense of privacy?” I yell in a dramatic fashion.

“Do you want to do this dating thing seriously?” Jennie mocks in a deep voice. A blush rises on my face.

“Yeah!” Taehyung answers in a high voice.

“Cool.”

I roll my eyes, “Okay, okay. Enough with all that. Pass me a slice of leftover cake.”

Laughs sounded through the room as Jennie started making kissing noises while skipping around the table. Jaehyun shaking his head at the silly behavior.

Life is good and so are the people I have around me.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

I do not know when the next chapter will be...but it might just be a Hoseok POV.

Idk how I feel about this chapter but...I managed to type it while I was stuck in bed. I tried to go to work today, got sent back home because I was coughing way too much. lol.

So my question for you is, I asked you guys some chapters ago if you liked Hoseok and what your thoughts of him are. Now, what is some growth you’ve noticed in not only Hoseok but how everyone else responses and reacts to Hoseok? Thank you :))

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lockefanfic · 4 years

Text

Business Trip: Pt 22 - Mediator

You leave her mouth, eager to enjoy the rest of her young body, and you dive into her neck, hungry for more of her. You kiss and lick and bite the soft skin there, tracing a path up to her ear. Sana responds by turning around in your arms until she is facing the harbor, pressed up against the gazebo railing. You quickly press yourself against her mostly naked back, wrapping your arms once more around her small, tight body.

Soon Sana grasps your right wrist, her own palm pressing down on the back of yours as she guides it lower, past her naked stomach to the waistband of her skirt and the swimsuit bottom beneath it. Your left hand, emboldened by her aggressiveness, reaches up around her torso and grasps her right breast, giving it a slight squeeze over her top and eliciting a low moan from her throat as you do so.

Placing kisses on her neck, you slowly slide your hand downward, past the elastic waistband of her skirt and into the waistband of her swimsuit, until finally your fingers cup her hairless mound and brush up against her wet, hot core.

Hawaii was hot.

Thankfully, it was a pleasant kind of hot. You’d been in plenty of places where the hot was humid, sticky, uncomfortable - Thailand, Las Vegas, Brazil - but Hawaii was warm without being stifling, the heat balanced nicely by a wonderful breeze wafting in from an ocean which never seemed too far away.

A week has passed since Choa and Jeongyeon’s rescue; JYP was quick to ensure that you and your team had as much time off as you wanted in order to recover, and figured an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii for two weeks would go a long way towards recovering from the physical and psychological trials of the past month. Bae Irene still continued to elude your grasp, but you were happy to forget about her for the next two weeks and focus instead on some well-earned rest and relaxation.

Minutes after stepping off the plane, the thirty or so of you were spirited away via a chartered bus to a small but very expensive looking resort outside Honolulu. Your team wasn’t alone - you were joined by some other members of JYP that the boss had decided had earned the trip. Together, there were enough of you to rent out the entirety of the resort; JYP certainly didn’t half-ass things. He even let you extend an invitation to Jihyo, even though she technically wasn’t an employee. You let him know of her role in Choa and Jeongyeon’s rescue, and he was all too happy to thank her for her efforts with a plane ticket.

There would probably be a time later during our stay to reconnect with some of the other coworkers you realized were also on the trip, but for now all you wanted to do was check in to your room and get into the hot tub. Your mind was so focused on the prospect of spending the next few hours melting into the hot waters that you weren’t ready whatsoever for the surprise that awaited you in the resort’s lobby.

Chou Tzuyu.

The young woman is sitting in one of the leather couches around the lobby, the loose sundress she is wearing giving her a bright, light look that is in contrast with the intense look of angst on her face as she watches your team approach from the resort’s main entrance. As you near, a look of determination appears on her face as though she were preparing herself for the confrontation to come.

Seolhyun is the first to approach the teenager, dashing ahead of your group to meet her — understandable given what she said to the young Taiwanese girl in Seoul.

“Tzuyu, I… I don’t know what to say,” she begins, “other than that I’m so, so sorry.”

Tzuyu is a little taken aback by Seolhyun’s straightforward apology, as if she were expecting the older Korean girl to be a little more defensive of her actions. Seolhyun is sincere in her words, however, having regretted her actions privately to you and Momo in the week that had passed since then.

“We - and I - judged you too quickly. Without you, we might not have ever known where Choa and Jeongyeon were being kept. I’m so, so sorry,” Seolhyun continues, bringing a hand to her mouth, her voice cracking as the emotion of her apology begins to overwhelm her. She was a strong, confident woman, but even she knew when she was wrong.

“We were wrong,” you add, eager to ensure she knew how you all felt, “and we’re sorry for the way we acted. We should have thanked you, and instead we drove you away.”

“It’s because of you we’re okay,” Choa adds, her voice warm and full of sincere thankfulness. She steps forward, arm in arm with Jeongyeon, whose small, soft features are filled with gratitude.

Choa and Jeongyeon step forward, Choa opening her arms and giving Tzuyu a hug, Jeongyeon following closely behind. The young Taiwanese girl is still standing there in their arms, not knowing quite how to react. She was perhaps expecting a fight and thus wasn’t fully ready for Seolhyun’s sincere honesty; and she certainly wasn’t expecting to feel the way she did when Choa and Jeongyeon wrapped their arms around her.

Before she knew it, Tzuyu was crying in Choa and Jeongyeon’s arms. Their sincere gratitude and Seolhyun’s heartfelt apology had broken down any resistance she had prepared, and she soon gives in to her emotions and returns Choa and Jeongyeon’s hug, letting the tears flow freely. Seolhyun joins the three girls, and soon the four of them are crying happily, smiles on their faces despite the tears running down their cheeks.

Beside you, Momo wraps her arm around yours. You turn to see her own cheeks are stained with tears she is struggling to wipe away. You step towards Tzuyu and the crowd parts between you, and the teenager quickly steps forward into your arms. Squeezing her back, you let her go to let Momo have her turn, and the two girls quickly cast away any malice they may have held towards each other and embrace tightly.

You knew that Momo was like an older sister to Tzuyu, helping her with adjusting to life away from Taiwan. To see them happy together again warmed your heart.

Jihyo and Mina are standing a little bit apart from the small crowd of five girls that are crying and hugging each other. Mina has always been reserved, and you knew the small smile on her face is as much outward emotion as she was likely to show. Jihyo, on the other hand, looked a little lost.

“Is your team always like this when you meet?” Jihyo asks, half-seriously.

“No, we’ve just been through a lot,” you answer with a smile.

“Ah,” Jihyo replies, although you get the feeling she still didn’t really understand what was going on. Eventually, though, the girls decide to move on, and at Choa’s urging they eventually begin to make their way towards the concierge desk to check in. Tzuyu strays behind, however, until you and her are alone. Her eyes reddened with tears, she nonetheless has a sincere smile on her face as she approaches you and gives you a hug.

“I’ve missed you, old man,” she says.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Tzuyu bites her lip as she composes herself for a moment.

“You should know,” she begins, “that Sana is here too.”

Tzuyu’s presence surprised you, but you were utterly shocked that Sana was here given what Momo said and did to her in Seoul. You were thankful, and eager to thank her for her role in saving Choa and Jeongyeon, but you weren’t prepared for her to actually be here.

“She told me to tell you she wants to meet you,” Tzuyu says, “...alone.”

---

Hirai Momo was most beautiful in the moments right after sex.

You came to that realization awhile ago, but you could think of nothing else at the moment as she lies on her back next to you. Her round breasts heave with every inhalation and exhalation, her entire body trying desperately to recover from recent exertion. Sweat gleams on her perfect, vanilla skin, and her cheeks are flushed a soft pink.

The more lewd side of you would find a lot to leer at in her naked body - long, splayed legs, the leak of white liquid appearing between her flushed, wet thighs, or her slim, fit torso and perfectly shaped breasts - but your eyes are glued to her beautiful face, and eyes that slowly blink open.

“That was amazing, baby,” she says, her voice hoarse but still managing to convey her full appreciation. You lock eyes with her before turning over and kissing her deeply. She brings a hand up to your cheek and all you see in her eyes is love.

She was gorgeous in everyday life, but here, in the early morning hours with nothing but her own allure and beauty to clothe her, she is simply enrapturing.

A beep emanates from your phone on the nightstand, and you curse the wonders of modern technology that rip you from your perfect moment with your girlfriend and throw you back into real life. You kiss Momo one more time softly on the lips before turning away and grabbing your phone.

“Shit,” you say out loud as you read the message, “it’s from Sana.”

You had filled Momo in regarding Sana’s presence at the resort, and she was just as surprised as you were that the other Japanese girl had decided to attend. You both waited patiently for her to either appear or contact one of you during the group dinner you had with all the JYP employees, but when no message came, you both settled into a deep sleep before Momo woke you up just before sunrise to sate her physical appetite.

“Does she want to meet?” Momo asks, rising from the bed to a sitting position - you are momentarily distracted by her naked chest as she rises, but you manage to put that thought out for the moment.

“Yes,” you answer, “with me. Alone.”

Momo looks disappointed - no one felt worse about the situation than she did, given the way she reacted to seeing Sana at SM’s hideout in Seoul. But she was also the first to admit that she had wrongly judged Sana and Tzuyu, and she had wanted badly to apologize to Sana in person. The fact that Tzuyu had now reconciled with Seolhyun and the rest of your team only increased her anxiousness to do the same with Sana.

“Go,” Momo says softly, “go speak with her.”

“You should come-”

“No,” she interrupts, “if she wants to meet only with you, then it should just be you. But will you… I guess... will you tell her how I feel? I guess… tell her… tell her I’m sorry?”

Momo’s eyes are cast downward now as the shame of her mistake returns to the forefront of her mind. You reach over and wrap your arms around her suddenly small frame. She buries her head in your chest.

“Tell her I’m sorry,” Momo says softly, “and bring her back to us.”

You kiss Momo softly on the forehead before leaving her to dress. When you return from the bathroom clothed, she still has not moved from the bed, but has wrapped herself in a blanket as if it would protect her from her own worries. She suddenly looks vulnerable and alone, and you curse yourself slightly for leaving her so quickly.

You realize now that her misgivings about the relationship you had with Sana had probably resurfaced. You return to the bed and bend to give her another kiss. You had to do something, say something, to make sure she knew how you felt about her.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Momo. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

Momo forces a smile as you kiss her one more time before you turn and exit the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

---

Sana’s chosen meeting place is a small gazebo with a beautiful view of the ocean, about a twenty minute walk from the resort’s main grounds. It was secluded, and the chances of anyone else from the resort happening upon it, especially in these early hours, was slim - understandable given the rumours swirling around JYP regarding her sudden disappearance from the company.

The Japanese girl is wearing a short white top that leaves her shoulders, most of her back, and her midriff bare. Her white, flowy skirt is light and practically translucent, revealing the white swimsuit bottoms she is wearing beneath. It had been awhile since you’d seen her in person, and you found yourself spending a long few seconds admiring her beautiful shape from behind before calling out to her.

“Sana,” you say, and she responds by turning her head, the wide straw hat atop it obscuring your view of her eyes.

“Ohayo,” she says in reply.

You take that as an invitation to join her in the small but cute gazebo, and you do so, leaning on the rail next to her and taking a deep breath of the ocean breeze. It was minutes before sunrise but still pleasantly warm - Hawaii always seemed to be the right temperature, no matter the time of day or night.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Sana asks, her gaze locked on the sea before her. In the harbor, a few small recreational boats have begun to start their day, drifting lazily out towards the open ocean.

You turn and look at her for the first time in weeks, and you are taken aback by her beauty; her chocolate hair, done up in some sort of braided bun behind her head, her perfectly shaped jawline, her bright eyes and soft nose - and those lips, so easily smiling and radiant one moment and sad and sombre the next. Right now they were somewhere inbetween, as if desiring to enjoy the beauty of the scene in front of her despite the sadness inside her.

“Beautiful,” you repeat, although you weren’t fully sure if you were referring to the scene or the young woman in front of you.

Sana seems to know, even if you didn’t. She casts her eyes downward, a soft smile appearing on her lips.

“Sana,” you begin, eager to start a conversation for fear of losing yourself in her beauty, “I’m sorry for what happened in Seoul. You and Tzuyu did so much, put yourselves on the line just to save Choa and Jeongyeon. And we judged you too quickly, without knowing the truth. I’m sorry.”

Sana smiles softly at you.

“Why should you be sorry? You weren’t the one that called me a whore.”

You are stunned into silence by her words, and are unable to reply. You certainly weren’t expecting her to broach the topic of Momo so quickly. You scramble to think of some way to defend her, but your words fail you.

“Sana, Momo only-”

“No,” Sana interrupts, raising a slim hand from the railing to stop you, “she told me exactly how she feels. This isn’t even about Choa and Jeongyeon anymore. If anything, I should be thankful that she said what she said. At least now I know how she really feels about me.”

“She only feels that way because-”

“Because what? You’re fucking me? Why would she hate me so much, and not the other girls you sleep with on a daily basis? Choa, Seolhyun, and Mina are basically sex toys you keep at work. Apparently now you’re fucking Jeongyeon too, and even that cop that’s here. And Tzuyu is a goddamn teenager! Why does she not give a damn about them, but she has the fucking nerve to call me a whore?”

You are at a loss for words, Sana’s questions catching you completely unprepared. Her face is twisted by anger now, her soft features turning sharp as she looks away.

“I think she feels that way because…” you begin, trying vainly to come up with the words, “because she thinks that we have feelings for each other.”

There is silence now, reigning for long moments as Sana ponders your answer. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before bringing both her hands to her face and wiping downward - ostensibly it is to show her frustration, but you realize that perhaps it was her way of quietly wiping away tears without letting you see them.

“You know how I feel about you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “and you know that if she ever messed up, if she ever left you or you ever left her, I’d be here waiting for you. I would do anything for you. But you chose her. It was tough, but I’ve accepted it. And I would never do anything to intentionally cause you two to break up. Does she know that?”

“Yes.”

“Then why does she hate me?”

“Because she needs to hear it from you.”

Silence returns to continue its reign, the heavy words exchanged between the two of you requiring some period of quiet as you both weigh their meaning over in your heads. You are unable to find solace in Sana’s features, turned away from you as they are, and so you look out into the harbor, trying and failing to find something there to distract you.

The sound of a soft sob breaks you from your reverie, and you turn to find Sana has buried her head in her hands and is quietly crying.

“Shhh,” you say as you wrap your arms around her. She sobs a little more openly into your chest, but she still tries, in vain, to stifle her tears. You spend long minutes there, and before long Sana wraps her arms around your waist. Her straw hat falls to the floor as you accidently nudge it from her head with your cheek, but neither of you care.

After awhile Sana raises her head from her chest. Her eyes glisten slightly with tears, but her face is so beautiful, so perfect in that moment that you are unable to resist when she raises her face to yours and kisses you.

It is a soft kiss, but it quickly deepens, your lips and soon your tongues reacquainting themselves with each other as the first embers of long forgotten passion re-awaken in your bodies.

“I need you now,” she says softly, as she always did just before your previous times together.

“Here? Now?” you ask - it was minutes before sunrise and the chances of being seen were slim, but still present.

“Here,” she answers with a soft peck on your lips, “Now. Momo has you for every hour of her entire day. I just want you for this moment.”

Sana kisses you again, more fiercely this time, and while a small part of you wants to slow down given the weight of the conversation you had just had, a larger part of you is unable to resist the temptation of her tight, slim body pressing up against yours. You hoped that what was about to happen wouldn’t complicate things further - not that you had much time to give it any more thought as Sana’s tongue invades your mouth.

Your hands search her body just as your tongue searches her mouth, your palms caressing the soft, smooth skin of her upper and lower back, her short top doing little to keep you from doing so. Soon your hands have wandered down to her cute little butt, and before long you are palming each of her cheeks, enjoying the feel of the mounds of flesh and the slight gasps that leave Sana’s mouth as you squeeze them.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps as your fingers slowly play with her folds, gathering the already freely flowing juices leaking from her entrance. You are surprised with how moist she is, and a devilish smile appears on your lips even as you plant kisses on the back of her neck, a little more passionately now after you see just how wanton she is.

Satisfied that you have teased her enough, you slowly slip your middle finger inside her, followed closely by your ring finger. You swirl your fingers around inside her hot, wet flesh, but your intention isn’t to penetrate her - no, it is to gather enough of her moisture on your fingers. Slowly you withdraw your digits from her and quickly find her clit, capturing the bud between your fingertips and beginning to massage it.

Sana is turning into a quivering, shaking mess now as she leans heavily against the rail, but your forearm and palm on her breast keep her upright as your fingers play with the centre of her pleasure. That chorus of moans and gasps that you were so familiar with begins, and you knew it wouldn’t end until you were both sated.

“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she hisses, “So good… oh… oh!”

You maintain the speed and pressure with your fingertips, but you carefully slip your left hand under the bottom of her top, thankful that it too is elastic at the bottom. Your palm eagerly slips under the material and grasps her right breast, and you massage it with your entire hand, delighting in the feel of her hardened nipple poking your palm.

For long, passionate minutes you finger Sana against the gazebo railing, not caring that you were doing so practically out in public, and that anyone gazing up from the harbour would have a perfect view of you fondling the young woman’s body from behind, one hand in both her top and her skirt.

“Oh.. I’m… I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum… Oh… ohhh!”

Sana orgasms on your hand, and her legs quiver almost violently as she does so. You struggle momentarily to keep her upright, and you squeeze her breast tightly as she rides out the waves of pleasure crashing against her body. Your fingertips feel the rush of her juices flowing slickly from her entrance, and her hands grasp your forearms tightly, her nails digging into your skin as she tries to recover.

You savor those wonderful moments after her orgasm as you hold her quivering body in your arms, your hands on her most sensitive areas. You plant soft kisses on the back of her neck as she slowly, gradually comes back down to earth.

Before long Sana turns in your arms, kissing you deeply. Her hands move quickly, quickly going to the elastic waistband of your cotton shorts and pulling them downward, exposing your hard shaft to the cool air.

“You can cum in my mouth later,” she says, every lewd syllable dripping with desire, “but I need you inside me now.”

She certainly didn’t need an excuse to avoid giving you head, not when the alternative was to rush to sex instead. She pushes you softly on the chest until you take a step backward and sit on the small bench that is present in the gazebo. Sana wastes no time - she reaches the hem of her skirt and hikes it up to her waist, revealing her drenched swimsuit bottoms. Then, straddling you on the bench, her knees on either side of your thighs, she pushes the wet material aside, revealing her dripping, glistening pussy. Her other hand grasps your shaft, lining it up with her core.

You expect her to take her time as she impales herself on your shaft, but she is as impatient as ever, and you slide easily inside her body as she lowers herself onto you, her hot, tight walls opening easily for you, her slick juices making it easy for you to penetrate her body.

“Oh, fuck…..” Sana gasps, drawing out that last syllable, letting her head tilt back and savoring the feeling of being filled. She wraps her arms around neck, pressing your face against her chest. You savor the feel of her warm breasts against your cheeks, still wrapped in that annoyingly still-present top.

Sana takes a moment to adjust to your length as you fill her to the hilt, but she takes only a few seconds there before she slowly raises her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body, her pussy grasping tightly around your shaft as though unwilling to let this new invader leave her. When she reaches the point where only the head of your cock is inside her, she impales herself once again, and before long she is riding you with a steady rhythm, your cock pumping in and out of her wet, tight pussy with each rise and fall of her hips.

“Oh god… Oh god, I’ve missed you so much… missed this… missed… your cock… oh!”

You are annoyed now that her breasts are still covered when they are right in front of your face and you could be enjoying them. To that end you grasp the bottom of her top, but Sana quickly realizes what you are intending and finishes the task herself, grasping the thin material with both hands and pulling it over her breasts until it is bunched up around her upper chest.

Her small, perfectly shaped breasts bounce freely from their prison, and you enjoy the sight of them shaking and bouncing for a few seconds before you dive in, squeezing both of the mounds of flesh with your hands from either side before taking her left nipple in your mouth. You lick at first, but it quickly turns into sucking, enjoying the feel of the stiff nub against your tongue as you suckle from it.

“Oh! Oh god, that feels so good! You’re so… so big inside me… yes… yes!”

Sana increases her pace slightly, taking you in and out of her body quicker, your drenched shaft penetrating deeper into her hot, wet pussy with each bounce. You release her breast from your mouth and watch her mounds move with each movement of their owner, the soft, saliva-streaked flesh shaking and bouncing enticingly.

You’ve let Sana have her fun, but you want to take things to the next level, and so your hands drift down to her bouncing butt before you begin to thrust upward just as Sana is moving downward, thrusting up into her body with your hips.

“Oh!! Oh, god! Oh!!!”

Sana orgasms, almost by surprise, if the look on her face is any indication. She usually announced her orgasms, let you know when she was nearing one, but the fact that she didn’t this time is even more indication of the way it snuck up on her, likely encouraged by your thrusts into her wet, hungry pussy.

Her body shakes and quivers almost violently around you, and her mouth is wide open in a frozen ‘“O” as her hands dig almost painfully into your shoulders as she tries to find some outlet for the intense pleasure coursing through her body. Her back arches, pushing her breasts out and forward enticingly.

Her pussy is almost painfully tight, and you have no choice but to slow your pumps upward into her body - she is almost impossible to move in, her body having clamped down hard on your cock. You let her come down slowly from her high. When she finally makes eye contact with you, she looks almost completely drained.

“God…” she manages to gasp, “Oh, god…”

You crush her lips with yours in a deep kiss.

“Your turn,” she whispers in your ear when she tears her lips from yours, “fuck me. Fuck me however you want. Fuck me until you cum.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to do so, but it becomes almost immediately evident to you how you wanted her. You slowly ease her off your lap, her drenched pussy leaking her juices freely onto your shaft as she raises herself off you. Taking her by the wrist, you bring her towards the edge of the gazebo and with a palm on her upper back, you lead her to the railing and push her upper body down until she is bent over. Smiling devilishly at the prospect of the pleasure to come, you press yourself against her from behind as she bends over the railing.

She realizes your intention, and with a sly smile on her lips she reaches down and pulls her skirt up until it bunched up around her waist. Her round, firm butt revealed, you reach down and pull her underwear down, leaving her dripping pussy naked. A part of you wants to savor the moment, savor the sight of her bent over for you and exposed for the world to see, but your hunger for her body overwhelms you, and you take your shaft in your right hand, line it up with her needy pussy, and drive yourself into her body.

There is a hunger in your mind as you penetrate Sana with long, deep thrusts - a hunger to make her yours, to take her, to ravish her and use her. It had always been there with Sana, from that very first time you had her in her Tokyo apartment. There was something about the way she aggressively desired you, the way she showed no inhibitions when it came to telling you how she felt about you that made every session with her so satisfying. There was something about fucking a girl that was crazy for you that made it so fucking hot.

You fuck Sana with long, deep thrusts, each one rocking her body from head to toe as you slam against her. She had always been tight, but she was even tighter now, standing, and having just had a strong orgasm. Her slick, wet juices drench your shaft, and have begun to flow freely down her warm, hot thighs.

If she gave a damn about essentially being fucked in public, she didn’t show it. You knew as much that she had no inhibitions about being fucked up against the glass of a window, having done so twice already - you realize now that the thrill of being seen or caught turned her on. She was amazing in bed alone and in private, but outside or with the threat of being caught or seen, she was even better. The idea of someone watching as you had your way with her, as you fucked and ravaged her young, submissive body, turned her on immensely and made her so utterly captivating during sex.

“Oh god, you fuck me so good… so big… so deep inside me… oh, oh fuck! Fuck me harder, as hard as you want! Take me… I’m yours!”

You are happy to oblige her, and to that end you reach forward with your right hand and grasp her chin, pulling her towards you until she is standing almost upright. Your left hand grasps her hip tightly, pulling her back towards you even as you push forward with each thrust, giving her hard, fast strokes. Your mouth is next to her ear now, and you couldn’t help but tease her.

“You like… you like being fucked in public… don’t you, Sana? You want people to watch you take a big cock in this tight little pussy of yours?”

“Yes! I want.. I want the world to see… see you fucking me! I want… everyone… to watch me get filled with your cum!”

There is perhaps a deeper meaning in her words, something related to her desire to be your girlfriend and not Momo, something about letting the world see you be with her - but your pleasure addled mind has only a moment to spare with the thought, and you quickly become lost in Sana’s tight, wet body, and the hot heat at her core that is driving you crazy with pleasure.

A part of you wishes you were able to watch as you continue to fuck the moaning, gasping girl against the gazebo railing. You want to watch as her exposed breasts are rocked with each thrust into her small body, want listen to each lusty gasp and moan that escapes her lips as she takes your hard shaft in and out of her body. But you content yourself from watching from behind as you feel your orgasm begin to build in your loins, the semen readying itself to burst from your shaft with each thrust into Sana’s pussy.

Your hand leaves her chin to grasp her exposed, bouncing breast, and you tighten your grip on her hip as you fuck her even faster. You can feel it now, feel your orgasm approaching that point of no return that you simultaneously wanted to attain and avoid. But Sana is too much - her hot, tight body pressed up against your chest as you fuck her hard, out in the open for anyone to see, is too fucking much to resist.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, Sana.”

“I want it… in every part of me!”

You have no time to ask her what that means, not as your orgasm wracks your brain and you grasp Sana’s hips tightly as you begin to fill her with your seed, first one, then two strong bursts of semen that fill her hot pussy with warm cum.

But then Sana squirms away from your still orgasming cock and suddenly you realize what she meant by her last words as she quickly spins drops to her knees in front of you, managing to wrap her lips around your shaft just before the next spurt of cum sprays all over her wet tongue.

The change from her tight, hot pussy to her wet, slick mouth is absolutely sublime, extending your orgasm as you continue to cum in her mouth, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You send a few more streams of cum onto her tongue and the roof of her mouth before you almost fall forward with exhaustion, catching yourself with your hands on the railing as Sana finishes taking the second half of your load in her mouth.

She slowly, gingerly lets your wet, slick shaft pop out of her mouth, and you watch as she gathers the thick cum from around her lips and opens her mouth, revealing a cavern painted white with your semen. Her round, innocent eyes still locked into yours, she closes her mouth and gulps it down in two swallows before opening her mouth again to show you she has swallowed it all.

Sana slowly rises to her feet, her legs still a little shaky as she does so. Standing between your arms, and with a sexy, lustful look on her flushed features, she reaches down between her legs to where the first few streams of cum you left inside her have begun to leak out of the splayed lips of her pussy.

Your eyes are glued to the sexy, wanton look on her face, and you don’t see what she is doing with her hands, but when she raises her fingers you notice that they are glistening with white. She brings them to her lips and licks off your cum with her pink tongue.

“It tastes better coming from my pussy,” she says softly, a sly smile on her lips, “I wasn’t sure where I wanted it - I just knew I wanted it inside every part of me.”

“There’s one more place I could put it,” you say with a smile of your own, reaching down with your right hand to grasp her tight butt, eliciting a small giggle from Sana.

“There’s still two weeks left in this vacation,” she says alluringly, before she leaves your arms to pick up her straw hat and put her wet underwear back on.

You pull your own cotton shorts back up as Sana dresses herself, taking a moment to recover from your session and digest what had just happened. You soon give your head a shake, however, and try to remind her of why you met.

“Come back with me,” you begin, “come talk to Momo. She wants to make things right again.”

Sana sighs as you bring up Momo’s name, although you choose to believe it was because she had to face reality again after the dream-like encounter you had just had.

“I will,” she answers after a moment’s reflection, “for you.”

Sana starts to leave the gazebo, and you watch her leave, her slim, perfectly sculpted legs carrying her back towards the resort.

You take one last look over your shoulder at the harbour. The sun has slowly begun to rise, beginning its golden reign over the island for another day.

Hoping its bright rays would ease the upcoming conversation between Sana and Momo, you push away from the gazebo rail and begin to head back to the resort.

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #Smut #pov smut #male reader #twice #twice sana #minatozaki sana

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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o1. With which one of your friends do you spend the most time? With which friend do you spend the least amount of time? Would you like to change this in any way? I don’t really get to...spend time with my friends, in that sense. For very obvious reasons. But I talk to Angela and Reena the most. Andi and I talk a lot too, but not everyday.

Among my friends, I probably talk to my college group the least these days, but that’s mostly because 2/3 of them are pursuing law school, and the 1/3 have jobs and are as busy as I am. We’re still as tight as ever and our group chat becomes active at least once a week.

o2. What four states in the USA would you most like to visit? Which four countries would you most like to visit? States: Illinois, Louisiana, New York, Utah. Countries: Malta, Switzerland, Thailand, South Korea.

o3. If you have one, how often do you watch your favorite television show? How long has this show been your favorite? I’m not a big TV person, tbh. The closest thing to my favorite would be Friends, which I rewatch at least one episode of once a month though I used to watch it FAR more often than that, hahaha. I think I first hooked to it...I wanna say 2018?Or 2019. Sometime in between those years. o4. Would it bother you if your boyfriend hugged other females (think hypothetically if you don’t have one)? Why or why not? No. He’s allowed to have girl friends. The only reason it bothered me when it was Gabie was because we were both aware that her guy friends were genuinely into her. I never channeled my annoyance towards her though; I was definitely more pissed off at those guys for not learning how to back off when needed.

o5. If you had snow-days as a kid, how did you spend them? Do you like the snow, in general? We don’t have snow, but our equivalent would be days off school because of a typhoon. Anyway, I just spent them lounging around and mostly watching stuff on YouTube. In college I was a bit more diligent and would use the extra time to catch up on readings.

o6. Do you know anyone who does hard drugs? Would you ever befriend someone that did? Not that I am aware of. I probably wouldn’t befriend someone who did if we weren’t already close, because there’s no telling what kind of influence they would be on me.

o7. When was the last time that you were afraid for your life? Did this incident change you in any way? When I was really sick back in May. Not really, I just wanted to recover as quickly as possible.

o8. Do you enjoy taking pictures? Is it just for fun, or do you make an attempt at actual photography? I didn’t then, but it’s something I’m trying to do more often now. I’ve realized I have very few souvenirs from the last few years because I barely took photos then, so it sucks not being able to revisit memories and ending up forgetting others completely. I definitely don’t plan to take it so far as taking photography lessons; taking pictures from my own perspective and in my own style suffices.

o9. Have you ever had low self-esteem? How is your self-esteem now? Yeah, sure. I had a recent phase of it because of the breakup, but I’ve recovered from it. My self-esteem is a lot healthier and more stable these days.

o1o. When you see someone sickly-thin, what is your first thought? Nothing for the most part, but I would obviously be concerned if that person was starting to show worrying signs of malnutrition. Idrk what you mean by sickly-thin.

o11. Do hospitals make you nervous? Why or why not? Do you have any bad hospital experiences? Not really, only because I’ve rarely had to go there.

o12. What did you dress up as the last time you went Trick-or-Treating? Who went with you? I went as Sofie, my old best friend from high school.

o13. What is one thing you miss most from your childhood? What do you miss the least? The part about having less responsibilities and more time to just have fun and do whatever I want. But I didn’t really have a picture-perfect childhood either, so my list of things I don’t miss for sure trumps the list of stuff I do miss.

o14. What would be the biggest challenge involved in raising a child at your age? How to send them to a good school because I don’t make nearly enough to afford tuition for another person.

o15. If you happened to get pregnant before you were ready for children, how would you cope? Do you think your parents would support you and help you out? I don’t know, honestly; and the thought kind of scares me. I know my parents wouldn’t provide support whatsoever, so I’d have to claw my way to find it from other people who would be willing. I’d probably need to take an extra job to earn enough money to support us both.

o16. Have you ever had unprotected sex? What would you tell a young teen thinking about having unprotected sex? Yeah, but I was also with a girl, so...idk. I don’t have a lot of sexual experience either so I dunno what sort of advice to tell a teen other than ‘don’t do it,’ lmao.

o17. What are some gender double-standards anger you? All of them. < Yes.

o18. Other than the usual qualities (honesty, respect, etc), what are some attributes you want your BF/GF to possess? Patience in the sense that I tend to be sensitive, so if they crack a joke that I ended up getting hurt or offended by, or if I get triggered by something minor that would otherwise be normal for anyone else, I hope they are patient enough to ride the wave out with me. I didn’t experience that with my past partner, and was often told to just stop being sensitive.

o19. Do you still talk to the first person you ever dated? If not, would you want to? Why or why not? No, because doing so is detrimental to my well-being.

o2o. Five years ago, what was the most important thing in your life? How about the most important person? My relationship, barf. Gabie, another barf.

21. How would you describe your sexuality? Have you ever wondered whether or not you might be homo/bisexual? I’ve stopped caring about it. I say asexual to people just so I have an answer to say.

o22. Do you think that homosexual couples should be able to raise or adopt children? Why or why not? Yeah...because I don’t see why they can’t be granted that right?

o23. Think of your worst fear. What would you do if you were confronted with it right now? Hyperventilate.

o24. If you were to become a vegetarian, what meat-product would you miss the most? Have you ever been or wanted to be a vegetarian? Chicken wings or sandwiches. I’ve thought about it before, yes. It’s too expensive a lifestyle where I live, though.

o25. Do you think that someone’s sexuality is something that they can control? No.

o26. What do you like most about your favorite animal? They’re very friendly and always down to play. :)

o27. What is your favorite way to eat your favorite food? How often do you eat your favorite food item? Eating burgers by hand is always the best. I have one maybe once a month.

o28. What is something you are craving? Will this craving be satisfied? KFC’S DOUBLE DOWN. I’ll get one next week, when I get my next pay lol. The rest of my budget this week is already allotted for my mom’s birthday/JK’s belated birthday dinner tomorrow.

o29. What is the largest number of texts you have sent in a day? Do you often text this much? Ooooh, I dunno. Maybe around 200-300 in a day? My ex and I primarily communicated through text whenever we weren’t physically together, which was often as we were both students in different schools.

o3o. Do you like the holiday season? Why or why not? What could be better about it? Some parts of it I like, some parts of it I don’t. The latter mostly stems from insecurities I will feel from seeing other families on social media, who always seem to be having a better and fancier time than I am. It’s why I usually deactivate during Christmas so I don’t get to see posts that can affect my disposition.

#survey #surveys

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aloesarchives · 4 years

Text

Please Return to Us

Pairing: Gaolang Wongsawat × (fem!)reader

Word Count:3113 words

Summary: You’re a notable fighter and guest of King Rama’s who was invited to come watch the Kengan Tournament with him. Another reasoning why you’re here is was your husband, Gaolang Wongsawat, was fighting in the event. After advancing to the second round, your husband faces of against one of the most powerful fighters, the Fang of Metsudo.

Warning:Peril, a little swearing

Sidenote: I used Muay Thai as the default Martial Art, but by all means that this doesn’t means you are default Thai, anyone can take up the Martial Art. You can ignore it as I’ll add an option for it. You’re also a citizen of Thailand but, again, it doesn’t mean you are Thai by default.

(Edit: Had to Repost since Tumblr took it down from the public tag)

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“My my, the competition is stirring up a bit. Isn’t it, (Y/N)?”

“It seems so, My King.”

You’re currently seated next to the King of Thailand along with fable Chairman of the Kengan Association, Katahara Metsudo. You were a guest of King Rama to accompany him to watch the tournament. Although you weren’t his bodyguard, you did take precautions as he was a ruler of a nation.

“Ah ho, who knew (Fighting epithet) would be here. I’d never expect a great fighter to be sitting on the sideline.”

“Chairman Katahara, (Y/N) is taking a well deserved break after earning her 3rd major promotional championship belt in (insert weight class) for Muay Thai/(Insert Martial Art).”

“Why congratulations then, Mrs. Wongsawat.”

“Thank you, Chairman Katahara.”

You slightly bowed your head to thank the Chairman. Afterwards, Katahara asked King Rama to place a personal bet on this match, the amount is decided by his highness himself. You feel the air shift, then there was growing tension between the two powerful men. You always forgot how King Rama knows his ways with words and can intensely banter whenever he can. Then the atmosphere shifted again to a slightly more lighthearted one as if nothing has ever happened. Your king takes up the offer and decides on the amount for the bet. You leaned in to see the how much he was betting, and unsurprising to you it was a large amount. Unlike the one of Katahara’s bodyguard who showed cleared shock, it unfazed you why the King himself bet so much on a match. It was clear that he had full confidence in Gaolang to win this match. Although the Fang was powerful as you heard, you had faith that your husband that he will hold his ground and no pushover. While the room is nice and and luxurious, you wanted a better view of the fight as you knew this wasn’t a normal match.

“(Y/N), why don’t you get a better view of the match?”

“But your highness! What about you-”

“Now, now, (Y/N), I know you wouldn’t sit in here when the action is going on outside. Especially if it’s Gaolang, go out into the arena. Don’t worry about me.”

You were hesitant, to leave the King alone didn’t sit with you. But with the reassuring nod from him and the Chairman saying nothing will go wrong, you decided to take your leave. You bow to them before heading out of the room. As you wonder aimlessly throughout the arena, you tried to get a good view of Gaolang’s match. As you kept looking, you saw what to be Okubo Naoya and Himuro Ryo. Okubo caught you from the corner from his eye and turned at the sound of your footsteps which caused Himuro to turn his head as well.

“Hold up, YOU’RE (Y/N) “(L/N)” WONGSAWSAT! I never knew I was going to met another fighting legend here!”

“Oh ho, who knew I was going to run into The King of Combat himself, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Okubo Naoya.”

The two of you shook hands as Okubo asked about all about the your latest championship that you seized. You also shook Himuro’s hand too who asked why you were here. You responded with a simple “I’m watching Gaolang”. While you stayed up on that part of the stadium, Okubo asked your stance of this match as it had involved The Fang, the one who defeated him in the first round of the tournament.

“Despite The Fang’s performance in the first round, I think this fight is going to be different. Gaolang won’t go down so easily, you’know?”

“Even so, do you think is gonna win the match, (Y/N)?”

“Hmmm, that’s the thing, Okubo. I actually don’t know. I do have faith in Gaolang; however, The Fang is a powerful fighter I have never seen in all my years in fighting. This fight is going to be intense, I highly doubt that the two will come out unscathed.”

As the referee told the fighters to take their stance, the whole arena grew quiet. You and Okubo’s face contorted into total shock. But your’s was more of flabbergasted. Agito Kanoh took the stance of the Hitman style, the boxing technique Gaolang’s specializes in.

‘Is the Fang trying to beat Gao at his own game?’ You thought

But it seems you’re not the only one who thought like that as everyone had the same reaction. Even from the place you were at in the stadium, you can tell that Gaolang was caught off-guard too by the Fang’s stance. There’s something about this match that made a bit intrigued on how Gaolang would fair against his opponent, but at the same time you can’t be a bit worried for his safety. Once the referee gave his signal for the match to begin, both fighters went in on each other. The Fang is already throwing high speed jabs at Gaolang, which Gaolang dodges. Then Gaolang throws in his flash, yet it didn’t reach Agito as he backed off. By now, you caught on that the arm span plays a role for striking and that Gaolang is at a slight disadvantage. Nevertheless, you figured that Gaolang already knew that. The space in between indicated that they’ll go in on another exchange as none has made in attempt to go in yet. But it happened, they went in on another exchange of jabs. What you are seeing was unbelievable, Agito not only matched Gaolang’s speed and procession, he’s dodging every single jab that Gaolang was throwing at him meaning that Gaolang’s flashes weren’t landing. You were in shock, no, astounded by abilities of The Fang for being able to kept up with your husband, the top boxer in the world as of right now. You thought this was bullshit, how someone was able out match Gaolang. Again, another exchange happened. This time, Gaolang was able to dodge one of Agito’s jabs and land his flash on him. At the same time, Agito used his forearm to make Gaolang off balanced. As Agito goes in for a straight, Gaolang parries his attack with his shoulder and landed a clean straight right to Agito’s face. With Agito being disoriented, Gaolang was able to dodge his attacks and gain some distance from him. Now it was clear to you that Agito was slightly losing his stance, giving Gaolang an opportunity to go in and attack him. As he did so, The Fang had to guard to protect himself from his onslaught of attacks. It was working, Gaolang’s hits were landing, and they were doing good damage to The Fang. But it looks like the Fang wasn’t done yet as he decided to switch his stance. The grin on the Fang’s face you a small shiver up your spine, but you had no doubt that Gaolang kept his cool and stayed level headed from the change. As Agito charges and uppercut Gaolang, Gaolang blocked it with his forearm with the other attacks heading for him. As far into the fight, it was obvious that Gaolang hasn’t even attempted to use his Mauy Thai. But something caught you, when Agito tried to kick Gaolang, he stopped when Gaolang circled him. Due to this, he tried to over reach to get Gaolang but it was a wrong move on his part because Gaolang was still able to land blows to his head. From the corner of your eye, you can tell that Himuro wasn’t going to accept what he just saw. Yet there was something else, Okubo was probably thinking the same thing but The Fang was seemingly hard time with this fight. From what you heard, he defeated his opponents with overwhelming strength and no struggle. From what you can guess, he had never such a battle before in his time of fighting. Gaolang kept his onslaught of blows to the Fang as his hits were landing. What caught you off-guard was the Fang’s motion of catching Gaolang’s hit and slamming him to the ground, luckily Gaolang was able to steady himself and blocked a kick from it and was bale to stand back up. You have never seen this before and what you’re hearing is he changed styles again. The next thing you know, the Fang charges right into the punching range of Gaolang. When Gaolang tried to punch him, it landed but the Fang was able to slip out of it and slammed Gaolang to the ground again.

‘What the hell am I seeing? Who in the world fights like this?’

Gaolang threw some jabs but his left arm was caught and the Fang was able to get a clean blow onto his right side. This was hard for you to fathom this fight, you knew Gaolang was a top tier fighter who didn’t didn’t go easy on his opponents. This was something you finally realized, that public sports/martial arts are nothing down here. What you were witnessing was what only a very few would get to, and Gaolang was one of the only two fighters within the whole tournament to be well known from the public. This experience was different, you’re getting to see two warriors fight it out in a underground fighting ring where a public fighter actually stood a chance. With that, you began to worry for Gaolang. He always vows to you to never make you feel such a way that you would fear for his being, and he always up held his words. But this was under different circumstances, that this could lead to him getting seriously injured or worse, however you push those thoughts out of your head and hope that this match wouldn’t lead to those thoughts. The Fang caught Gaolang and elbowed Gaolang’s throat but Gaolang countered with a headbutt to the face. From what you can make out, the Fang wanted Gaolang to use his Mauy Thai against him yet Gaolang had other plans with a grin plastered on his face. Then he throws a kick at the start to use his Mauy Thai on the Fang. People thought that Gaolang had completely given up on boxing, but you knew better than anyone else that it was false. One of the reasons that drawn you to Gaolang was how he wouldn’t settle for any less once he reaches his goals. Knowing the principles Muay Thai, Gaolang had told you he picked up boxing as to compensate for Muay Thai’s lack of use in punching. You knew his role as King Rama’s bodyguard, and with that in mind, defeat was out of the question for Gaolang. Gaolang’s strikes kept landing but only for him to be pushed back. The blows each side was dealing was harder than the next, but Gaolang kept going with his attacks. Gaolang had the advantage in his blows as it made the Fang’s only choice was to guard himself to block the mass assault from the Thai God of War. With the Fang holding up his guard, you saw an opportunity for Gaolang to strike, and he did. However, it goes the same for Agito as well as he gave a blow to Gaolang’s face. Your breath halted and became trapped in your throat at the sight of the hit. Out of all the attacks, that was probably the cleanest hit the Fang has ever dealt in the fight. This was more than enough to severely damage Gaolang’s balance. Your breathing returned to you when Gaolang was able to land a left hook to Agito’s right cheek. You were absolutely dumbfound, how Gaolang was still standing after receiving such a hit. But the looks of the two fighters, who were far from healthy, you can tell that the next exchange would decide who the victor would be.

‘Gaolang, please be okay...’

You clutched your hand close to your heart as the match neared its end. The two men, shaken, barely being able to stand, go all out once in for all. As the final exchange began, you notice a motion coming from the Fang where he swings he elbow to block Gaolang’s punch. You gasp with a slight jump and gripped the concrete.

“Wait, Gaolang-!”

But by some bad stroke of luck, Gaolang’s fist landed on the elbow block. Although you knew it would be useless to shout, especially from where you were at in the stadium, you can’t help it. The elbow is the hardest/strongest point in the body that can do and deal damage when used. By the size and strength of the Fang, when Gaolang’s fist landed on his elbow, the possibility of it shattering was at an all time high. To your horror, you know that would be the case. And yet, he still kept attacking. Even when the Fang landed another hit to his face, Gaolang’s barrages never faltered. When Gaolang went in to throw a straight, the Fang crouched down to grabbed Gaolang by the hips and German Suplex him.

“GAOLANG!!!”

But the match was decided at that very moment, when Gaolang got up to his feet the Fang took his chances and gave him an upwards knee to him. It was then you knew that it was the end of it, the Thai God of War collapsed to the arena floor, only leaving the Fang of Metsudo standing. With the announcements that the fight was over and it being the last fight of the second round of the tournament, they would be a intermission to make preparations for the quarter finals and so on.

“Damn, that’s tough luck, Gaolang was so close to beating him. You good, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, it was never my fight in the first place.”

“I guess but even so, it’s Gaolang-”

“Okubo, don’t think this will stop him. This will actually have the complete opposite effect on him.”

The man just nods his head in agreement. You then took your leave after saying bye to Okubo and Himuro, saying you hope to see them again soon. It took you some time until you were able to navigate yourself to the lower levels of the arena. You wondered aimlessly through the Kengan Dome’s lower levels hoping to find Gaolang. Luck seem to favor you as you heard faint voices coming around the corner. You cease your strides and just padded towards the source of the voices. As you got closer and to your relief, you saw Gaolang and his opponent from the first round, Kaneda Suekichi. You didn’t want to interrupt their conversation but at the same time, you didn’t want to stand there awkwardly for them to notice you there. So you lightly padded towards them but making sure you let them finished their conversation. It seems they just finished their conversation when they slightly jolt up at the sound of your footsteps. They turn their heads to see you walking towards them. You stopped to stare at the two before they figured out who you were. While Kaneda was shocked to see you here, Gaolang was more so surprised by your presence.

“Wait, You’re-!”

“(Y/N)...”

“Gaolang...”

You gave Gaolang a small simple smile. Although it grew silent, the two of you just stared at each other. It wasn’t awkward or anything. Yet by the soft look in both of your eyes, it seemed that a silent conversation transpired. Kaneda, who’s logical and not a third wheel, states that he’ll leave the two of you alone and will be on his way. You thanked him before he leaves and was out of sight. You sat next to Gaolang on the bench, eyeing his right fist. It was all bandaged up, and by the way it was bandage made one of fears true.

“Your right hand is shattered, isn’t it Gaolang?”

Gaolang pauses before nodding his head. Using the clean towel you carried, you wiped some of the sweat off of Gaolang’s forehead. Gaolang’s face is expressionless but you can tell he was thankful for you doing this since one of his hands was botched, After cleaning the forehead off his face, you gave the towel to him so he could wipe the rest off of his body. You then pick up his damaged hand ever so gently. Slightly clasping it, all you could do is stare at it. Even though Gaolang’s face remained emotionless, his eyes showed concerned towards you. You never were really this quiet around him.

“I watched your fight with the Fang.”

“I can already tell by the way you were looking at my hand. I supposed King Rama invited you here to come me in the tournament. I thought you said you were staying home after you recent win.”

“I was, but when I was summoned by his Majesty to be his guest to watch a tournament of formidable fighters, which you were one of their participates, it would be improper to turn down the offer...”

Your words faded out and you stayed silent again. Gaolang didn’t say anything, he knew you were thinking up words to say to him like you always have. He was patience, like always, and the way you spoke to him was different from other people except for King Rama. By the small increased grip on his hand, he knew you found the words to speak to him again. However, you head hung low to hid your eyes.

“I know that with this injury, it could possibly be career ending, putting your boxing career to an end. That your hand would never be the same it used to be... But I know you better than anyone else. Your unparalleled effort, strength, and resilience could only be matched by a selected few. I have never doubted you once when you fought. Even from the countless matches, including this one, you have fought with all your might. Gaolang Wongsawat... You have proudly served all of us well... one of Thailand’s greatest warriors... and our sword... Please, for the sake of the Kingdom of Thailand, Please return to us...”

You lifted your head up to reveal two lone tears slipping out of your eyes. Gaolang could only chuckle at you as he uses his left hand to wipe away the tears. You stare up at him and he stares back at you with a smile of his own, grasping your hand as well.

“I, Gaolang Wongsawat, will gladly come back stronger than before. For His Majesty, for the glory of Thailand, and for you, (Y/N) Wongsawat, I shall return to all of you.”

And with the vow Gaolang has made, you knew the Thai God of War will definitely make his return.

#gaolang wongsawat #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kengan ashura × reader

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