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spilledkauffie · 3 years

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Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k T/W: fluff A/N: Part 2 of Bingo — a few months later

I am SO SORRY this took me way longer to post than it should have!

Bucky Tag List: @anreeixcobra ❤︎ @tsnelf7 ❤︎ @fandom-princess-forevermore

It was Friday night, which meant one thing: Game Night. Ever since Yori introduced you at Bingo, you made it a tradition in your relationship to play board games on Fridays. For the most part you kept it to fairly modern games, but tonight was going to be a surprise.

Tonight it was your place, 8 o’clock. Bucky showed up with a six pack of root-beer in glass bottles. You added a few to the fridge as he found his usual seat at your apartment table. He waited for you to round the small apartment’s bar and join him. Sliding the glass bottles across the table to Bucky, you smiled, biting in your bottom lip, as he slid your bottle back, now without its top.

Easily he popped the top off his own bottle with his left hand; it was as he was about to take a sip that he caught sight of your look, “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows, questionably.

“So. . . tonight,” you tried not to giggle.

“What?” Bucky asked again, this time finding himself following your smile despite his will not to.

“Tonight is going to be special,” you clasped your hands together, “because I found some stuff that’s as old as you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically, taking a sip, shaking his head, blinking softly as he saw you rush to convince him it would be fun. Sighing deeply, he gave in, “alright, what is it?”

“I’ll be right back,” you twirled on your heel and left the room.

Returning to shaking his head and the glass bottle, he paused after settling the bottle on the table. It’d been a long time since anyone cared about anything actually as old as him. He’d been pretty good at keeping up with the times, a lot of things he knew just got an upgrade, but the thought of something from his actual childhood felt a little heartwarming.

“Okay,” you declared, reentering the room with a stack of vintage boxes in your arms that made Bucky lean back in his chair out of shock, “here we are.”

His jaw dropped a little at what you had brought out as you set the stack on the table. Watching you take a deep breath and exhale with a smirk, he shook his head, this time silently asking “how?” You set your hands atop the stack, rapping your fingers across the top box as you smiled again.

Smoothing your hands out across the box top, you cleared your throat, “no peeking,” bringing Bucky’s attention entirely to you.

“Option number one,” you held up the rectangular shape with severely faded letters across it, “Scrabble, released 1938.” The box very gently met the table, “option number two,” you looked at him attempting not to giggle as you saw him cross his arms over his chest, genuinely listening to you intently, “Sorry! released 1934, Battleship, original pen and paper game,” you clarified, he lifted his eyebrows, impressed, “and last but not least, Monopoly, released 1935.”

“Wow, you uh- you really did your research,” he commented, looking over the stack of authentically vintage boxes.

“Of course,” you shrugged with a smile, “my boyfriend’s 106, if I want to bring back some childhood nostalgia, that requires some research. . . and late hour ebay bidding in our case.”

He nodded, a faint smile showing, before it faded with his next words, “I hope you didn’t do too much research on me,” he looked up, hand resting on Monopoly.

You calmly slid down into the seat across from him and stared with a kind smile still on your lips, reaching to touch his hand, you stroked your thumb against his knuckles, “I’m more of a first hand account, direct source, kind of girl when it comes to people,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile.

You knew, just not everything, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have another living soul know it all quite yet. Luckily, you were someone who seemed to actually understand that.

“Or,” you announced, lifting a pointer finger, as if requesting a pause whilst you went to a nearby drawer, returning with a much smaller box, “we can get really really old school, even for you” the box met the table top, “standard 52 card deck, English edition, circa 1516. . .obviously not original.”

Bucky chuckled, looking to you, tonguing his cheek, before picking up the cards, “I hate to tell you, but that’s just a little before my time,” he squinted at you, teasingly.

Biting your lip, your shoulders shifted with the giggle that came after his comment, “so, come on,” you sat back down, this time with your elbows on the table and hands laced, to support your resting chin on top of them, “what should I beat your butt in?”

“Oh,” Bucky, attempting to appear insulted, began raising his eyebrows, “you think?”

“Yeah,” you laughed your words while looking at his serious face, “I think, better yet, I know.”

“Well, I don’t know where you get your confidence from. You know you are talking to a local senior Bingo night champion,” he shrugged with a head tilt, as if that was supposed to be a big deal.

“Woooow,” you drew out, smiling uncontrollably.

“But,” he sighed, “okay,” he shook his head once, accepting your challenge, “let’s go, you’re on! Monopoly,” he brought the box towards himself as you set the others on the floor next to your chair.

You watched as he picked up the little metal pieces, examining each one individually. There was an expression you’d never seen before, he was remembering something positive from his past. A memory that sparked a smile that you helped bring about. He surveyed the board, with all its bright colours and familiar street names.

“It’s been-” he paused, looking upward, doing the math in his head, “it’s been 85 years since I played this game,” setting each piece he stopped at the boat, laughing to himself, “you know, Steve used to always be the battleship.”

A soft smile came across your lips, while you watched him remember exactly how to set it up. You picked the Scottie dog and he picked the vintage race car piece.

“Were you always the race car?” you ventured, wanting to know more about his childhood, you knew he didn’t talk about it often.

“Oh,” he glanced to the piece he had just naturally picked up without a thought, “yeah, well, I think,” he gave a quick, but somber smile, before clearing his throat, and actually looking up, “and my sister, whenever she’d actually manage to get mom and dad to let her stay up with us, she’d always be the thimble,” he leaned back in his chair, smiling, “whenever it was her turn to move she’d put it on her finger and hop it down the street names.” He leaned back to the table, “we never made her go to jail, even if she landed on it, Steve would make up some rule that let her skip it.”

“That’s really sweet of you guys,” you said, looking softly at his smile.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “but don’t think you can skip jail,” he changed his tone, preferring not to dwell on the past even if it was positive.

“Don’t think I’ll be visiting,” you smirk confidently, “better watch out for the money man yourself.”

“Wow, who is this?” he dropped his jaw, “she’s so sarcastic, does Yori know this side of you? Do you sneak jellybeans under the table or something evil like that?”

Laughing, you took your root-beer, “just give me my $1,500 so the smack down can actually begin.”

Two hours later, after a long battle between Boardwalk, control over the railroads, and many, many visits to jail, you sat back, lips quirked, arms across your chest as your little Scottie sat in jail.

“And three thousand, six hundred, and five. . . I’m sorry, but that leaves you,” Bucky set his elbows on the table, wincing at you, “bankrupt.”

“Fine,” you huffed jokingly, giving your best pout,“you win.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky reached out a hand to touch your forearm comfortingly, accompanied by a smile you couldn’t deny.

“You wanna go again?” You offered seriously, resting your hand on top of his tenderly, happy to see him so happy.

“It was really fun, but let’s play something else, this time you pick,” he offered.

Breaking into a smile, you gave a nod, and he asked what you had in mind. It took a moment, you wanted to make this good, and you wanted to see it be a little more of a struggle for him, if you were honest.

“You know, I know it’s later than your. . .original timeline, but there’s this fantastic game called Twister,” you smirked, perking an eyebrow to ask if he was up for it.

“Twister?” He repeated you, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “what’s Twister?”

“I’ll show you, but,” you glanced over to your small apartment living room, “we might need to arrange the furniture a little.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky stood, “I can handle that.”

Smiling, you stand, “okay, just push it all to one side, I’ll get the game.”

Ten minutes later, shoeless, you both stood looking over the polka dotted sheet on the floor. Nodding happily to yourself, Bucky shook his head almost in fear.

“Make sense?” You asked, having just explained the very simple rules, you turned to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked,” he sighed, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch along with his glove, “yeah, it makes sense,” he set his hands on his hips, pondering this new game intently.

“Okay, you first,” you held up the spinning arrow, and began.

One hand and foot at a time, sometimes struggling to reach the spinner, but you both made it work pretty well. Having kept to one side of the sheet, it came time to get a smidge more twisted.

Bucky managed to keep balanced and spin a green dot with his left arm, conveniently it placed him right over you. As he began to reach for green, he carefully calculated how best to approach the green dot in order to keep his balance. It was a pretty far reach and he’d need to balance himself whilst reaching over you.

“What’s the matter old man, can’t quite move like you used to?” you shamelessly giggled.

Raising his eyebrows at your tone, “ohhh, wow,” Bucky said sincerely, finally placing his left arm over you and to a green dot, now above you he tilted his head sassily, “respect your elders.”

His last sentence only made your giggle turn into a genuine laugh. You closed your eyes and threw your head back a little. Admittedly, Bucky thought it was funny too, but he didn’t laugh, he just took in your smile and the sound of your laugh, enjoying every single moment of it.

When you brought your head back up, you were about to respond sassily, but instead you found his lips meeting yours. With a small squeak of surprise, you relaxed into the kiss, glad that he was finally confident enough with you to take a chance now and then. He tasted like vanilla root beer, which mixed wonderfully with the scent of his cologne you were finally close enough to smell.

It was soft and slow at first, but slowly, with his right hand palming the arch of your back, you eased into his touch, lower back almost meeting the floor as you both sunk down a little. You completely forgot about the game, as you reached your arms around his neck gently. Keeping the kiss close, you felt him hesitate to deepen it, so you gave him a small sign of encouragement, by moving your hand to the side of his neck, naturally bringing him even closer.

You had no idea how long you’d been there, on that polka dot sheet, but it was such bliss that you didn’t even care. Smiling into the kiss, you felt him smile back.

Parting, he pressed his forehead to yours, “I win,” he whispered, lips in a smile.

“What?” was all you could ask, still mesmerised by the kiss.

Bucky motioned his head to his left arm which happened to have been keeping the two of you steady. . . all the while remaining on the green dot. You dropped your arms from around his neck, to the floor, elbows supporting you as you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“That does not count, Bucky,” you tried not to smile as he kept his arm as still as possible.

“What? But my hand’s still on green,” he dramatically gestured to it, making you bite your lip to repress a giggle, trying to match his seriousness.

Shoving his chest directly above you, he feigned an ‘ow!’ before you softly pull him closer again.

“If I kiss you are you gonna hit me again?”

You smirk, “I might if you don’t.”

Bucky smiled, lips almost touching yours, “alright, sorry,” he smiled, voice almost a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, “I’m still learning the rules to this game.”

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onebourbon-oneshot-onetear · 3 years

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My Home-DruigxF!Eternal

A/N: I've been obsessed with Druig since watching Eternals (twice) so I had to get this down. This is pretty much fluff, but there will definitely be a part 2.

Warnings: Spoilers for Eternals

Prompt: Reuniting with your husband

Word count: 2.6K

Part 1 Part 2

I hummed to myself as I set down my small brush and picked up a larger one, being careful not to knock over the bust I was cleaning off. I had only been at work for a few hours, but I was already restless. As much as I loved being a curator, there were plenty of days where my job was quite boring, especially when the hours passed by so slowly.

Although I suppose as an Eternal, time had never been an issue. We, my adopted family and I, never gave much thought to the passing of time. We had been on Earth for thousands of years. Eventually, it just seemed to all run together. Life as an Eternal was…interesting. And lonely. It was hard to make friends and be involved in people’s lives when you would have to leave them in a few decades anyway. Most of the time, we kept to ourselves, going back and forth to visit each other, some more than others.

I had spent the last few years in France, easily getting a job as a curator for a private museum. It was pretty easy considering I had been there when a lot of these artifacts were created. Every once in a while I would see something that Sersi had helped the village people make, or something that Makkari had wanted to trade. Working here gave me such a sense of nostalgia, it was never a chore. Just a nice walk down memory lane. Like this bust that I was touching up, it was a tribute to Athena from when we were in Greece. The likeness to Thena wasn’t quite there, mostly because of one of Sprite’s rumors, but she still loved them anyway. Even if Thena would never tell anybody that herself.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by my co-worker, Armel, barging into the room I was working in. “Y/n, you have visitors,” He said and immediately piqued my curiosity. Who could possibly be visiting me? The last person in my family I had spoken to was Sersi, who seemed quite content in London. I don’t think she would be leaving anytime soon.

I spun around in my chair and faced Armel. “Did they say who they are?”

“The woman is named Thena, and the gentleman said his name was Gil. Would you like me to tell them they can wait?” He eyed me suspiciously. I had been working at this museum for ten years, and not once has anybody come to visit me, especially at work.

Now I’m very interested. I knew that Gilgamesh and Thena hadn’t left Australia in close to a century, probably longer. I spoke to them often enough, especially to make sure that Thena was okay. Her and I were as close as sisters, and usually didn’t keep anything from each other. And with Gil being in love with her for all of these years, he had settled himself into a brotherly role quite nicely.

I brushed myself off and stood up from my work desk. “No, please, send them in.” Armel looked as if he wanted to protest, but seeing how I was the most senior member of the museum's curator staff (in more ways than one) he only nodded his head and rushed out the door. I put away my tools and gave the bust of Athena I had been cleaning a final wipe down.

“I remember when those littered the streets of Greece.” I spun around and saw Thena and Gil standing in the door, Thena wearing an all white sundress that matched her white blonde hair, and Gil wearing a ratted shirt with black suspenders and linen pants. They truly hadn’t changed in the decade since I had last seen them.

I squealed and ran at her, wrapping her in a hug which she happily returned. “Well, it was only right that statues were made to honor the greatest warrior of their time,” I countered. Thena only smiled and playfully rolled her eyes. As I let go of her, two giant arms wrapped me in a hug. “Hello, Gil,” I huffed out as my lungs were crushed under his arms.

“Y/n, it’s been too long,” Gil told me, gently setting me down on my feet.

“I know, I’ve been meaning to visit, but I’ve been busy with work,” I told them. “But what do I owe the pleasure? Is everything okay?”

Immediately both of their faces dropped, their smiles replaced with solemn looks. Immediately I started to panic. “What happened?”

Gil stepped forward and took my hand in his. “Ajak is dead. A deviant got her.” I searched his face for any semblance of a lie, but judging by his red eyes, and the tears that Thena was holding back, this wasn’t some elaborate prank. Ajak really was dead.

I gasped and sat down on my chair, my hand covering my face as tears threatened to fall. Ajak was like a mother to me, to all of us. We had been together for seven thousand years. It felt impossible that she was gone, that I would never hear her voice again. I wiped my face and looked up at them. “Is everyone else okay?” my thoughts immediately going to a dark haired Eternal with beautiful blue eyes, and enough sarcasm to choke an elephant.

“Druig is fine,” Thena said, knowing exactly who I was thinking of. A blush creeped up my cheeks and turned my ears red. Even after all these years, just hearing his name was enough to make me blush.

“I was asking about everyone, not just him.” I muttered, but I knew that they could see right through the facade. Gil just laughed, and Thena gave me a knowing look.

“Everyone else is fine. Ikaris, Sersi, Sprite, and Kingo are making arrangements to go see Druig. We said we would get you and meet them down there.” Thena said. I nodded, and grabbed my belongings.

“Well, let's go then.” I headed towards the door, but when I didn’t hear footsteps behind me, I turned around. Thena and Gilgamesh hadn’t moved. I looked them over, and realized there was something they hadn’t told me. “What else is there?” I asked. This time Thena stepped towards me and put both hands on my shoulders.

“We’ve been lied to.” I looked at her confused before she ushered me to the chair I had previously occupied. Her and Gil took turns explaining everything to me. That Earth hadn’t been our first mission, and we were actually created over and over, our memories taken. I tried to wrap my head around why we would have to protect the planet if it was going to just get destroyed anyway.

When they finished explaining everything, we sat in a heavy silence for a few minutes. “I don’t want to believe it,” I whispered, but I knew that Thena and Gil wouldn’t lie to me. I shook my head and looked at both of them. “What happens now?”

“We stop the emergence. Protect the people on the planet, and then find a way to either move them off or move Tiamut.” Gil said. That was easier said than done, but I had never been blindly devout to Arishem, so going against the order of things didn’t bother me as much as killing this planet did. I had fallen in love with the people of Earth, I had created a life here. I didn’t want my memories wiped, and I certainly wasn’t going to let eight billion people die.

“All right then,” I said, standing up and grabbing my things. “Any other surprises?” I asked, heading towards the door. This time they both followed me out of the building.

“Only everybody’s reactions to finding out about you and Druig,” Thena slyly said. I grimaced, thinking about how we all hadn’t been together as a group in five hundred years. They had definitely missed some things.

“Yeah well, it’s not like we are the only married couple. Ikaris and Sersi are still married,” I said, walking out to the busy street. “Besides, if they couldn’t tell that we would end up together, then I can’t help them. Do we have time? I need to run to my apartment to change, and grab a couple things.”

After changing from my work dress and into something more suitable for the Amazon, we boarded a small flight and were hours away. Thankfully we were able to get seats together so we didn’t have to put up with awkward talking and eavesdropping from others.

Gil, being the size that he was, had taken the aisle seat and leaned across Thena to look at me. “So why aren’t you and Druig together? Trouble in paradise?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, just a small vacation. We are still happily married, we just got into a small disagreement.” I said, and told them the story.

Druig and I sat on the porch of our home, watching the people that we had protected for generations going about their day. He held my hand as I read a book, the light shining just right through the canopy of leaves, and the gentle singing of birds creating the most relaxed background.

“What is wrong, my love?” Druig asked, and I looked up from my booked, puzzled. “You’ve been sighing to yourself for the last three chapters,” he explained, nodding towards the book which now layed in my lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice,” I said, closing my book and setting it down.

“Don’t be sorry,” Druig said, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles, “Just tell me what’s bothering that beautiful mind of yours.”

I stared into his eyes, hesitating for a moment before deciding there was no point in lying to him. “I miss the outside world,” I said, reading his face for any hint of anger or betrayal. Druig only nodded, and looked back over the people of the village.

“It has been a while since we left here,” He said, keeping his voice neutral. I nodded with him, but didn’t say anything, letting us sit in silence. I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t mad, he was merely thinking.

Druig and I have been together for six hundred years. We had finally gotten married in a small church in Scotland in the early 19th century after he had nagged me for long enough about making it official. It didn’t matter to me if we were official or not, as long as we were together but Druig, always one for theatrics, wanted a ceremony. And so we did, and it was the happiest day of my long life, standing in a small stone church with him by my side. We had been pretty inseparable since then, occasionally leaving the Amazon to visit others, or to explore, but it was exceptionally rare that we left each other.

“I don’t think I want to leave now, my love. I’m tired of the people of this planet, of seeing the terrible things they can do. I want to stay here, where there is nothing but peace, and us.”

I sighed, as this was a conversation we had had hundreds of times. “The world isn’t all bad, Dru. There are so many good things that we don’t get to see here. I don’t want to miss out on all of it,” I said. I had always been the one to have more faith in humanity, and as much as I loved the community we had built for ourselves, I loved the people out there too.

He nodded at this, and squeezed my hand in his. He got up from his chair, and kneeled in front of mine, taking both of my hands in his. He looked me over before smiling. “Well who am I to hold back my beautiful, beautiful wife. Go see the world, as long as you come home to me.”

I returned his smile and leaned down, placing a kiss on our intertwined hands. “I will always come back to you, you’re all I need,” I whispered. We stared into each other's eyes and studied each other's faces for another minute before I left to pack a small bag of clothes. Druig followed me around the house, making suggestions of things I could see and do, before I was all packed. Just as I was about to walk out the front door, he pulled me back into the house, wrapped his hands around my waist, and kissed me. I fervently kissed him back, knowing that it would be the last one for a while, before we both needed to breathe and I slowly pulled back. Even after almost seven hundred years, his kisses still left me reeling, dizzy on our love.

“If I thought you would, I would ask you to freeze us in this moment forever,” He whispered. I chuckled and shook my head. I had the ability to freeze objects, prevent them from moving, or growing old. It was useful in a fight, being able to freeze an enemy, but it took a lot of concentration, I could usually only hold something alive for a few minutes.

I quietly laughed at that, “And if I thought you would, I would ask you to make me stay,” I said, pressing my forehead against his so my head moved with the shaking of his.

“I would never control you like that. I promised you that long ago.” And he had. Back before we were a couple, when he was just my closest friend. We were laying together, on the outskirts of Babylon, staring up at the galaxy laid out above us. The night was filled with quiet conversations, deep thoughts, and murmured promises. I asked him if he would ever try and use his powers on me, and he gave me a strange look before looking definitively into my eyes. ‘I would never betray your trust.’ And he hadn’t in almost three thousand years.

He kissed me again, and walked with me to the edge of the village, and I left.

“That was shortly after World War II,” I said, leaning back in my seat. “It’s long overdue that I go home, though.”

“You haven’t spoken to your husband in almost eighty years?” Gil asked, eyes in disbelief. I’m sure it was hard for him to understand. Since we had left Tenochtitlan, I don’t think Gil and Thena had been separated, short for a week when Gil needed a vacation, and Druig and I had watched her.

“Of course not,” I said, slapping his arm lightly. “We write each other letters all the time. It’s easier to write it all out then to try and show him how e-mail works. And it’s romantic,” I said, smiling. Thena lightly rolled her eyes, but just by her smile I knew it was merely a jest. “This is merely a small vacation for us.”

We spent the rest of the flight in silence, thinking about the information we had learned in the last few days, and thinking of the fight to come. At least, that’s what I’m sure Thena and Gil were thinking about. I was just ready to go see my husband. I had missed our nights together, laying in each other's arms, knowing that no matter what happened we would always be together, always have each other. I missed the solace of his presence, how the world seemed to slow down when I looked at him. I even missed his teasing, the knowing smile and glint in his eyes when we would go back and forth with each other. I missed home, because he was my home.

“You know, Kingo is going to be so pissed he missed the wedding.” Gil interrupted my thoughts, and I laughed. Seeing my family again was going to be interesting to say the least.

#eternals #the eternals #the eternals spoilers #druig #druigxy/n #marvel #f!eternal #fluff #druigxreader #druigxf!reader #Marvel imagine

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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chasing nostalgia part 1

Summary: August Walker is at a college party and accidentally walks in on his friend Roger having sex with the beautiful Leilani.

August Walker x Leilani (asian ofc)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warning: Mentions of threesome, daddy nickname. Some mentions of male masturbation. August watching a camgirl, who uses a dildo and orgasms. If I forgot something, i'm sorry, lemme know and I'll add it.

A/N: Sorry for not posting it on time - i've had a little bit of a writer's block. Hopefully I'm making up for it with this chapter xx

Masterlist // chasing nostalgia masterlist // prologue

Years had gone by after that college party surprise threesome. Seven years to be exact. After the impromptu threesome, they came up with a pretty good system. Roger and August became closer friends and also the bond between August and Leilani grew.

And never was there a moment of jealousy, not even when Leilani would spend the night with Roger and just Roger. Other times she’d be with August and he knew for a fact his newly found best friend was never envious. This is what they had and they all agreed to—it’s just that August knew that nowadays, this system never would’ve worked for him, but college August was different.

There were things that worked for him, that didn’t work for Roger and vice versa. Roger didn’t feel anything for the daddy nickname (he personally preferred ‘sir’), August on the other hand loved it, to a point where she never called him by his name anymore, knowing damn well what the consequences of that were.

People on campus began calling them the three musketeers (which August found lame, but Leilani adored it, so he kept quiet about it) and to be fair, they were indeed pretty damn inseparable.

From time to time, the three of them switched it up. Changed locations (from hotel rooms to under the bleachers) and what not. One morning, Leilani woke up in his bed, kissed him good morning before she took a shower, completely at peace around his room. He enjoyed it was the times with just the two of them. He got to envision what it could be like, if it were just them. She never showed much of her heart, just like he always kept the things buried deep. He wondered if she shared it with Roger or not, but when he asked Roger about it, he realized she was just as kept to herself as usual. Played it cool, like her life was amazing. But then the three of them spend Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then NYE at one of their dorms and he realized she never spoke about her family situation.

Just like neither of them ever did.

But then August got a job offer and quit college. After one last mind blowing time with just her, desperately wanting to say goodbye to her, it was time to go. He remembers everything, every detail of hers, because life after college wasn’t too kind on him and the memory of Leilani kept him going.

He lost touch with both of them, since he rolled from one shady business into another, set foot on the right side, the wrong side and the grey and neutral one.

But now he is done, mostly because he had to quit forever. One thing went wrong and it happened to be fatal for the people he worked with. August now is stuck in a wheelchair, missing both of his legs and his pinky, ring and middle finger from his left hand.

Stuck in the country he was born in, he leans back in his chair, scrolling through the sites. He is normally not the type of man to watch a lot of cam girls, but he’s getting frustrated and needs something to relief himself.

August hasn’t been with someone since the accident.

He goes through the different types of pictures, all indicating there are woman performing live videos now. He clicks on a picture of a girl named LiLi, whose face isn’t visible on the preview, but something about the rest of her body draws him in. Her body lines are beautiful.

He leans back in his chair and waits for the video to load. He joins in right on time, because she’s feverishly is riding a large dildo, her breasts bouncing in the same rhythm as she’s on the silicone dick.

Wait a damn minute, he thinks to himself, bringing his face closer to the screen. This is familiar. Those legs, that pussy and those breasts. Especially combined with those sounds.

It brings back cherished memories.

Is this Leilani?

Her whines and moans are a lot more high pitched than he remembers, but when he watches her fingers rubbing her clit, he recognizes that hand, those nails. Details are his forte, especially when it involves the most breathtakingly gorgeous woman he has ever met

This is Leilani. Never in a million years did he think she’d actually do this type of work, but fuck, she’s good at it.

He is quick to give her an enormous tip. Together with around 20k other people, he is watching her. Witnessing how beads of sweat run over her body, how her entire body shivers whenever she’s close to cumming and how she manages to keep her face out of the frame at all costs.

Unfortunately, he came in at the end of her live, but he is quick to click on her account. Previous live shows are also up, just as some random videos of her. He pays for a premium subscription, because he wants to have forever access to her account and these videos.

He doesn’t know how many things he is watching, but after quite a few, he is sure this is truly her. The lives are a little bit over exaggerated, however the other clips show a bit of a natural Leilani, exactly how he remembered it. It’s not a performance, it’s just her. Her legs still shaking as she reaches her high. Her being able to take whatever dildo as easy in her pussy as she does in her puckered hole.

This woman has only gotten better over the course of the years.

He ends up in a rabbit hole of her videos. Despite already covering his stomach and fingers with his own semen, he continues to watch. More and more, devouring every single bit of video material. He’s already made a specific playlist for other times like this, strictly made up with clips of her.

He leans back in his chair, his breathing haggard, his mind filled with new images of Leilani. His Leilani. For years he has yearned for her, wished he had never taken that job in the first place, so he could be with her. He doesn’t care if that meant still sharing her with Roger, he just wants her.

And now he has a little piece of her back.

♕ ♕ ♕

After a quick shower, August is dead set on finding out more about her. Since they went to the University of Montana together, he figured she maybe stayed there. He lifts himself from his wheelchair into his bed and makes himself comfortable. He starts to search for her on his laptop, minutes going by, but his Leilani isn’t findable the regular way.

So he does something he has sworn he’d never do again.

After an hour, he even knows her social security number and he has her driver’s license on his screen. Her full lips, the cooled expression in her eyes, her thick hair. It’s still the same, just with a mature streak to her.

She lives in New York City and after a little bit of digging, he actually managed to discover she does have an instagram, just under the name lanilani, hence the reason he could’ve never found it in his initial search. The picture showcase her personality. Her in a cafe, rollerblading and feeding the ducks. So, if he is correct, she probably spends her time in Central Park quite a lot. He could accidentally bump into her, though he suspects she’ll see right through the act.

So, he decides to do it. He decides to go look for her.

♕ ♕ ♕

chasing nostalgia taglist: @diegos-butt // @thelastsock // @liecastillo // @mis-lil-red // @sofiebstar // @abschaffer2 // @crazybutconfidentaf // @summersong69 // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @bourbonwithice // @kebabgirl67 // @eldarwen333

#chasing nostalgia #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #august walker x asian ofc #august walker x oc #august walker x ofc #august walker #august walker x leilani #leilani

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papergirllife · 3 years

Text

First Love

Lucas Wong / Yukhei

"They say first love is a special experience that one would always hold a special place in your heart. Wong Yukhei was your first love in high school, but along the way, you had to say goodbye to him in order for him to achieve his dream of becoming a star in Korea. Yet fate and destiny plays its role in paving the two of you an intersection once more, will the two of you and up together at the very end?"

Warnings : smut, unprotected sex, mild angst, a child (pregnancy not described), tooth rotting fluff (all in that order, kinda)

A/N : this is one of my most heavily devoted works I've ever written, so please, of you're comfortable, drop a feedback to tell me if you guys like this writing style, thank you!

Lucas Wong of NCT and most importantly his own fixed unit, Wayv, the man who garners attention and love wherever he goes, that dazzling smile is sure to be captured by numerous cameras of awaiting fans.

But to you, Lucas was never Lucas, to you he was Yukhei, and more significantly, your ex from high school. Yukhei was your first love, you remember when the two of you had first met in Year 9, Yukhei was known for being a class clown and more of a klutz, girls would always have a soft spot for him even if they didn't like him in that way.

Yukhei was your desk mate for Year 10, the thing got you on your nerves about him was that he never took group assignments seriously, and was never at school on time, his uniform was wrinkly from rushing out of his house to catch the bus and always had a stationary missing, which means he had to borrow yours.

You never hated him, hate is a strong word, things were very neutral with him, most times, he unintentionally annoys you, but he'd always make up to you by bringing you a small bottle of apple juice the next day. The only time the two of you really fought was when he had not spoken up when his friends snatched your book away from yours to copy you off, brushing it off as a small matter.

You were quite an immature person back then, and no one can blame you, you were just a teenager, and being said that, you had refused to lend Yukhei a ruler when the math teacher did a pop quiz, so he had to use the dust pan as no one, other than you that is, brings an extra ruler.

It's not your fault, you thought back then, he shouldn't have depended on you to bring his share of stationaries. The next day, you walked into class to see his group of friends waiting at your desk to apologize to you, and as for Yukhei, he had yet again brought you a bottle of apple juice, with the addition of your favourite bar of Cadbury.

It was only in Year 11 when Yukhei had confessed to you, saying that all those annoying things he did to you were just to catch your attention, of all the girls he could've liked, he chose the one who was the most unattainable, go figure.

The next year, when the two of you were looking to apply to the same college, Yukhei broke the news to you that he'd be packing his bags for Korea, that the audition he had joined just for fun accepted him as a trainee in a large entertainment company in Korea that everyone in Hong Kong knows, SM.

At first you didn't approve of his decision, that his education was important as well, that he had a life here, with you. But Yukhei had given very valid reasons to you, that he wouldn't have passed the college entrance exams if it weren't for your tuitions until late at night in the public library, that he didn't really have an interest in studying. His most valid reason was that he didn't want to take a toll on you when you’re in college, he can't have you sacrifice your sleep and attention for him just to have him attain passing grades.

So you let him go, saying your last farewell to him at the airport as his girlfriend and ex girlfriend.

That was the last time you saw him, choosing to not stay in contact with him as you poured your soul into university life, studying like your life depends on it, you had a few boyfriends here and there, nothing serious, nothing that made you felt like your first love. Maybe you had trouble moving on, or maybe it was just stress, you thought back then, shrugging the thought off casually before diverting your attention else where, this cycle carried on until you came out to work.

Fast forwarding to March of 2019, you had unintentionally came across of a news online that Yukhei had finally been placed in his own fixed unit that would be promoting and performing in Chinese, which isn’t surprising, even the Thai member, Ten, was of Chinese heritage. What made your eyes widen was the fact that they were coming to Hong Kong.

At the day of the fan meet, you had took the day off from your boring low paying job at the law firm, so much for studying your ass off for bar exams, you’re just filing on a daily basis.

Before the day of the fan meet, you had lived off of instant cup noodles for a few weeks just to buy the album and their light stick. When you first listened to the album, you were proud of Yukhei’s rapping skills, you still recall the days when he’d struggle with his mandarin oral tests, the teachers there must be much better than you for him to improve so much, smiling fondly at the old memories.

You waved the light stick and sang along just like the other fans beside you, mesmerised by the performance that the boys are putting up, but your eyes were mostly on Yukhei, you would’ve never thought the once clumsy giant like him would dance as fluidly, executing the moves just as well as the other smaller sized members.

You watch as Yukhei introduces himself and his non Cantonese members in his mother tongue, a feeling of familiarity settling into your mind.

You are quite a confident person, but queuing up to the long table where Yukhei sat at the corner was nerve wrecking to you, what would he say to you? Would he recognise you? It hasn't been that long, but the two of you had done some changes to your looks.

The other members had greeted you with a friendly smile and a few casual questions like have you eaten, but they seem a bit taken aback by the lack of fan girl attitude that most of the fans in front of you had.

When you had got to Yukhei, he had dropped his marker on the floor, his head ducked out of sight to retrieve it, but when he came up to apologise, the words were stuck in his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as saucers. He coughed to mask the surprise on his face.

“Hi, how are you?” He asked as he took your album into his hands, scribbling something down.

“Good, how have you been?” although his hair is coloured, his eyes had contacts, and he wasn't in his messy uniform, the smile on his face never changed.

“Great, it's nice to see you,” to other fans and the staff beside him, they might think it's just one of the standard answers, but you knew Yukhei like the back of your hand, registering the twinkle in his eyes.

Soon, he had placed the album back into your hands, your fingers grazing gently as tiny sparks flew up your tips, eyes never breaking contact until the staff tells you to leave.

When you had sat down at a nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee, you took out your album and flipped to the page where Lucas had written something.

‘Hilton hotel, 9pm,' and his number under it.

At nine sharp, you waited by the hotel’s sitting area, not many people at that time as usually stores in Hong Kong open rather late, patiently you waited for Yukhei. Just as you were scrolling through posts on Instagram, a tall figure approached you.

A call of your name rolled off his tongue naturally, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you.

“I bought you a little something before I got here,” you said as you stood up, letting him guide you to the elevators.

“What is it?” Yukhei lets out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his nape when he realised he didn't get you anything in return.

“Roast goose and Cha Siew, are they still your favourite?” you asked, hoping his taste hasn’t changed over the years.

“Yeah, man, I remember how we'd always get quarter of both after school at Uncle Chan’s,” Yukhei said, remembering how the boss of the restaurant had hung a photo of two of you on the wall, deeming the two of you his most loyal lovebirds.

“This is from Uncle Chan’s,” you told him as you followed him into his room, looking around, expecting him to be rooming with someone.

“Don't worry, I told Yang Yang to sleep with Ten for the night,” Yukhei said when he saw you looking for someone.

“Oh, that's really nice of him,” you said as you set out the food, the smell of Hong Kong's famous delicacies wafting in the air.

“Man, I really missed this,” Yukhei said as he pulls the arm chair that was a few feet away close to the desk, directing you into it and situating himself in the not so comfortable wooden chair.

“I missed this too,” you said mindlessly, eyes avoiding his before you ate a piece of meat.

“I missed you too,” Lucas confessed, yes there are many pretty girls in his industry, and Korea itself, but no one would be able to replace you, you were his rock all his life, other than his family of course, it's hard to build a connection with someone just as strong when things between the two of you never really ended, in a way.

Leaving on too good terms and without much closure for both of you kept one another thinking of each other. The two of you know, that after tonight, things would go back to normal, Yukhei would be Wayv’s Lucas, and you’d remain as his past, there would never be an outcome from whatever happens tonight.

So when the two of you were recalling memories and troubles the two of you got in school on the oh so comfortable bed, you couldn't help it, hooking a leg over Yukhei’s waist, just like how it started at the night of the graduation party, the night where the two of you lost your virginities to each other.

“I’d be gone tomorrow, we shouldn’t, I shouldn't do this to you,” Yukhei said, a firm believer that it's always the girl that is on the losing side, like he's taking an advantage of you, ever the gentleman.

“I want this for myself, Yukhei, it's not like it's our first time,” you said, trying to convince him.

“I still feel guilty about our first time, I left a few months later after that night, and tomorrow would be the same, I'll be leaving you once more,” Yukhei said as his big hands caressed your cheeks, eyes wide like a puppy, pupils reflecting an image of you, a perfect representation of his universe, you.

“I don't care, I’ve moved on from you as your girlfriend all those years ago, moving on from you after tonight won't be a challenge for me,” you said in a firm tone, one that Yukhei knows all too well, he knows you won't give up when you sound like this.

He could possibly break two hearts if he chooses to act on his impulses, but he missed this, he missed you, and so he threw all caution out of the window when he smashed his lips desperately against yours, chewing on your bottom lip with little force, it was something that would easily get you worked up back then, and to his delight, it still worked, letting him dominate the kiss easily, he let his tongue slid in your mouth, tasting the beer the two of you had just now with a mixture of strawberry lip gloss, you were still using the Nivea one you used all those years ago, this only fuelled his desire for you, his hands leaving your cheeks to locate your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When you were out of air, you broke off the kiss, reaching the hem of your shirt to pull it off, then waiting a few seconds for Yukhei to admire the red lace on your skin before unclasping your bra, letting your blossoms free, all the while as Yukhei looks on, like he was in a trance.

“I missed these,” he commented before taking a mound into his mouth, sucking on your nipple diligently while his other hand comes up to roll it in between the pads of his fingers, the pleasure from the action making you throw your head back, a slip of his name in between your whimpers.

You let Yukhei push you back, letting you fall onto his bed, you felt his hands wander up your skirt, his huge hands around your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms, feeling you, but stopped when he reached the hem of your panties, detaching himself from your chest, looking at you for confirmation.

You nodded at him, putting your hand over his to guide him higher, stopping at the curve of your cheek, pushing his hand beneath the clothe, dangerously close to your core, heck he could even feel your arousal already, eyes rolling back at the thought of getting you so worked up.

“Take it off, but you can leave the skirt, for old time’s sake,” you said.

Yukhei looked at you, confused at what you’re trying to say, until he realised you were wearing a pleated checkered skirt, just like the ones you wore back in high school, memories of the two of you sneaking around, having a quickie with your skirt flipped up immediately made blood rush southwards at the thought.

“Fuck, you expected this to happen?” Yukhei asked, shaking his head in disbelief, he was always the troublemaker at school, but oh how the tables have turned now.

“Didn't you?” you asked before getting up to put yourself in a doggy position, shaking your butt, taunting him.

Yukhei chuckled to himself before doing as you say, taking off your panties to reveal your slick covered pussy, dripping wet for him on display.

Yukhei spreads you open by pulling your cheeks apart to lick a stripe up your slit, making you shudder at the warm muscle that was intruding but very much welcomed.

Yukhei allowed himself to fully stuff his face there, inserting his tongue into your core, thrusting the wet muscle at a moderate pace before adding a finger to the mix, then two, stretching you open to let his tongue delve deeper inside, he then adds a third finger, the fullness finally hitting you, soon he did a come hither movement once he had located your sweet spot, his tongue and fingers rubbing against the roof of your walls deliciously, you would’ve lost your balance if it weren't for his hand supporting you by your left hip.

The constant pleasure that Yukhei so willingly inflicted upon you would've soon come to an euphoric end if he hadn’t halted all movement, pulling out his tongue and his fingers, which made you whine his name pathetically, something you wouldn't have done if it weren't for the fact that your mind was reduced to a ball full of cotton.

“Chill, I worked you up so I wouldn't hurt you with my dick,” Yukhei said as he positions himself at your entrance, his hand coming up to your face to tilt your head to his direction, zeroing on your lust filled eyes and the plump of your lips, swollen because of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yukhei asks you one last time.

“Yes, please,” you said, pushing yourself back to lightly grind on his length, a little bit of your arousal getting onto his cock, his dick getting so hard it's starting to hurt.

“Ever so eager, aren't you?” Lucas said before biting his lip at the sight.

“Just put it in!” you whined, tired of his teasing.

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei said before bracing himself for your tight walls, he's never nervous when it comes to others, but you? You always held a special place in his heart.

Yukhei spreads your cheeks once more before aligning himself to slip in an inch, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you were, he could tell you were clenching up, just like you did the first time when you were nervous.

So he bends down to your back, placing gentle kisses along your right shoulder blade.

“Don’t tense up, there’s nothing to be nervous about, we did this before remember?” Yukhei said in his most gentle tone ever, you nodded your head at his words, adjusting yourself to let yourself lose in the comfort of his touch, reminding yourself that although it's been a long time since you had someone as big as him, you’ll be fine in his hands.

Once Yukhei felt yourself unclench, he pushes in furthermore, you felt yourself arching your back to allow him to fit himself easier, before he comes to a halt, you felt so full, you haven't felt this way in such a long time, it was somewhat overwhelming, but it's the most complete feeling ever, a feeling you've never felt with any other.

The initial stretch was slightly painful of course, but the pain soon turned into pleasure, and being the gentleman Yukhei is, waited for you despite the huge urge to move, waiting for your green light.

When you told him he could move, he felt like the gates of heaven just opened, pulling out slightly to give you a shallow thrust, just to test the waters.

Even with that experimental thrust, you felt like you had a taste of heaven, eager to drown yourself in this new found pleasure that you were once so familiar with.

Yukhei grasped his large hands onto your hips, setting a moderate pace, still restraining himself from snapping his hips, but from how much slick you were dripping, soon you'd be begging for more.

Once you felt yourself familiarise with his big cock, the pace that Yukhei had set wasn’t enough, you wanted him to let loose, you wanted him to rail you, be damned if you can’t walk tomorrow.

So in the midst of all the pleasure, you let out two desperate words breathlessly, “ruin me”.

Yukhei had to do a double take, pausing his movements entirely just to check if that was his mind messing with him or it was really you, but one look at your desperate face, revealed to him that was in fact your words.

Yukhei allowed the animalistic side of him to take over, holding onto your hips that would sure leave bruises the next day, but you didn’t mind, not when you felt a sudden surge of pleasure coursing through your body. He angled your body higher, arching your back for easier access, thrusting harder and faster.

You could only submit yourself to him as your toes curled and your fingers dig into the linen sheets, you’re sure if his members were next door, they'd be able to hear every single sound you make, the sound of your ass cheeks clapping against Yukhei’s hips and your high pitched moans were flowing freely, but you didn't care, not when this could be the last time you'd ever be with Yukhei.

Soon, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your legs were trying their best not to fail you, and you could tell your arms were getting sore from propping yourself up as the cord in your abdomen threatened to snap, you panted out the word ‘close’, and Yukhei immediately understood, fucking into you at an inhuman pace, you could feel yourself losing your mind as spit drips from your mouth, sanity slowly slipping away from you as you felt your impending orgasm, it started from the tip of your toes, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, succumbing into the pleasure, your core bursting, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, making your whole body sag in defeat as you let Yukhei help you ride out your orgasm.

Just when you thought it was all over, Yukhei gently flipped you over, and that’s when you realised he hasn’t cum, so you lifted your legs higher to let him enter you once again, he was using you like his personal doll, and you love it a little bit too much to be considered normal, you struggled to keep your eyes open as you fought through the slight pain from the overstimulation, hearing Yukhei’s mumble of appreciation and endearments.

“Can you give me one more, babe? Just one more,” Yukhei said before circling his fingers around your clit, making your eyes snap open when you realise he wants you to cum once more, your hands coming up to push his hand away, but his other hand grasped onto yours.

“Just one more, please,” Yukhei begged with those puppy eyes of his, and how could you say no?

So you stopped struggling, nodding your head at his request before he quickens the pace of his hips and the ministrations on your clit.

Soon, you could feel Yukhei’s cock swelling inside you before he let out a groan of your name, thrusting in one last hard thrust before he painted your walls white, his lips capturing yours to silent you as you came once more, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Yukhei ride out both your highs.

Once he was done, Yukhei crashed onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around yours, kissing your lips to distract you as he pulled out, hopping into the attached bathroom to bring out two towels, taking off your skirt before he gently cleans you up, when he was done he wiped the juices you left on him, your eyes growing big when you knew it was from when you squirted on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I squirted,” you mumbled behind the hands that you had covering your embarrassed face.

Yukhei laughed at the cute sight, throwing the towel aside before climbing into bed again, removing your hands away from your face, kissing you deeply before looking at you in the eye.

“I loved it,” he said before pulling you closer, and almost instantly, you were lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.

When you woke up, Yukhei was still snoring beside you, sleeping like a baby, you gently removed his hand from your waist, stepping out of the bed before gathering your clothes, putting them on, smoothing out the creases of your skirt.

Walking to the door, you glanced around once more at the sight of him, your heavy heart begging you to stay, to talk, and so you walked over to the night stand, ripping a piece of paper of the note pad and grabbing the pen next to it.

‘Goodbye and thank you for everything.’

You placed the piece of paper beside him on his pillow before kissing his forehead as a parting gift, closing the door as softly as you could when you left.

You knew this was the right thing to do, you made this decision once when he left for Korea the first time, you can't be in his way this time around, not when he's this far into his career, you can’t be selfish, he belongs on this path, he deserves it and you’re not going to take it away from him, you've stood on the side-lines all this time, he shed the limelight on you for one night, and that's all you should have, he's better off without you.

Yukhei felt himself grow cold when he couldn't feel the warmth of your body, jerking up to check if you were in the bathroom, only to find the door wide open, the room empty.

That's when he had spotted the piece of paper with your goodbye message, his heart clenching in pain, crashing onto the bed once more.

He didn't know what to expect, you had sent him off once, and now you left him without saying goodbye. He thought he could at least say goodbye.

Pushing his thoughts away, he gathered his things, packing up to leave for Korea.

His members could tell something was terribly off, they thought he was just in it for a casual hook up, but his expression tells otherwise.

The usual cheerful Yukhei was nowhere to be found, which meant Yang Yang and Hendery had to keep the mood light throughout the journey home, everyone knew to not say anything, only speaking when crucial.

It took Yukhei quite a while for him to get back to his goofy self, but even then, Kun, being the most observant one, saw a tightness in his smile, a faraway look in his eyes, whoever he had seen that night must've meant a lot to him, but he dare not to press, he knows Yukhei would open up when he's ready.

It was a normal Tuesday night when he had received a request to face time from you, without thinking much of it, excited to hear from you, he accepted, your beautiful face coming into view as he got comfortable on his bed.

“Hey, this is unexpected,” Yukhei said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yukhei, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, eyes avoiding his.

“Yeah, what's up?” he asked, rubbing his nape, a habit he does whenever he's nervous.

“I'm um, I’m pregnant,” you said, choosing to not beat around the bush.

You could see Yukhei's face pale when he processed your words. Is it his? It's definitely his, it's almost a month since the two of you slept together, unless you slept with someone else?

“It's mine?” a dumb question, but he needs to know for sure.

“Yeah,” you said before the two of you come to a piercing silence.

“You could get an abortion, maybe?” Yukhei suggested after contemplating in his head, there’s no way he could be in the child’s life, and that's the best option for your sake, raising a child in Hong Kong is the most expensive thing to do, equivalent to buying a house there.

“I decided to keep it, Yukhei,” you said, glancing up to see the disbelief on his face.

“You can’t, you know I can't be there for you and you’re still so new in your job, you can't risk your life for this!” Yukhei said, not comprehending on why you'd do this to yourself.

“I already decided, Yukhei, and I don't expect you to take responsibility, this is my choice,” you said as tears threatened to flow.

“That isn't fair, it's not fair for the child! A child needs its father! You don't know what you're doing! Being a single mum is next to impossible in Hong Kong! You're putting the child in a horrible situation just for your selfishness!” Yukhei said before pushing his hair back, the feeling of an impending headache forming.

“How dare you say that?! I’ll raise this child perfectly on my own, I was just calling you to inform you of it, but since you don't want anything to do with it or me, I guess this is goodbye and don't call me anymore, I won't change my mind,” you said before your face disappeared from his phone screen.

Yukhei tried calling you immediately after, a day later, several weeks later, but you never picked up. Then he started stressing about his career, what would happen if someone were to find out? But he knows you as a person, and being a tell-tale is not one of your characteristics, yeah, he can just act like nothing happened, like he had never received this call.

He knows he's running away from his problems, but what other choice does he have?

Fast forwarding to July of 2021, Yukhei is home after his filming of the popular Chinese reality show in China, Keep Running, he feels at ease when he sees his family, finally reuniting with them, but only for a short two weeks time, before he has to leave for Korea once more.

It was a Friday night when his friends from home took him out for a drink, he was not so familiar with the clubbing scene in Hong Kong, but with the knowledge he has of this area, he knows many rich and young people often here, just like the girl kissing up his neck now, her soft hands running up the expanse of his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he wants her to be.

Yet Yukhei doesn’t remember her name, was it Candy? Apple? Some sort of name that had to do with food, he just remembered that she told him that she was an up and coming model, or trying to be anyways.

Just as she suggested to go to some hotel, Yukhei suggested for a quickie in the bathroom first, and so here he is now, being pushed to the door of a stall, her hands trying to unbuckle his belt.

Yukhei reached the back of his pocket for his wallet, opening it, looking for the condom he had placed there, but cursed when he realised he must've dropped it when he paid for drinks.

He told her to go back out and wait for him to get some, leaving the club and the musky smoke filled place behind him, the summer breeze blowing his hair all over, he brings the hood of his jacket up as he scans for a nearby convenience store, locating one at the street across.

When he got in, the scent of curry immediately greeted him, it was your favourite food, everyday after school, no doubt you'll drag him into one of these shops, just to share a bowl of curry fish balls, one of the most famous snacks here in Hong Kong.

He pushed the thought away, trudging to the aisle that was on the most right, where the condoms were at, hidden away from children. He took a box and made his way to the counter, opening his wallet to take out a few notes.

The cashier turned her back from stocking the cigarette shelf, scanning the box wordlessly.

“That would be 30,” she said when she looked up, but her hand immediately dropped the box when she saw who it was, and that's when Yukhei truly opened his eyes to see who it was, at first he was just miffed not knowing why the cashier froze, then he sees you, in the worn out 7 Eleven uniform, was you, the last person he’d be expecting.

“Why are you here? What happened to your job at the law firm? Why...” Yukhei didn't know how to ask, he didn't know if he deserved the right to ask, yet there's so many questions he had swarming in his head. Where is his child? Did you abort it in the end? Did you give it up for adoption? Were you fired from your job because of it?

“It's my shift right now, and you seem to be getting lucky tonight,” you said stiffly, holding up the box for him to see, sliding it across the counter

“It's for my friend actually,” Yukhei said, eyes avoiding yours, but immediately looking at you straight in the eyes, remembering how you use to be able to see right through him whenever he didn't do the revision work you've given him.

“Right,” you said, resisting to roll your eyes.

“You haven't answered me, why are you working here instead of the law firm?” Yukhei pressed.

You sigh at his persistence, not knowing what to say to humour him, so you didn't say anything, getting back to rearranging the shelves.

Yukhei bit his lip, not knowing what to say to you, but a million questions in his head, desperate for answers.

“Please leave if you're done with your purchases,” you said, you had a long day, and the thought of entertaining him was not something you want to add on your plate.

Yukhei looked around the store once more, grabbing a bowl of instant noodles from the shelf before making his way once more to the cashier.

“I’d like to have this here,” Yukhei said before pulling out some spare change from just now.

“Yukhei, what are you trying to do?” you asked in an exasperated tone, there's no point making small talk when there's no way the two of you would ever cross in each other’s lives ever again.

“I'm hungry, I want to eat noodles,” which wasn’t really a lie, all the alcohol he drank before gave him an appetite.

You sighed, turning your back to him, soundlessly waited for the water to boil before pouring it into the cup, sealing the top for it to cook. As you worked, Yukhei was having déjà vu, this was an all too familiar sight, nights at the convenience store studying till late at night in groups, you'd always share noodles with him as you taught him some dumb math formula that no one uses in their life after school.

He takes his bowl of noodles, opting to sit at the place closest to the counter, just looking at you, eating as slow as humanly possible.

When it was around three, you received a call.

“Hello?”

“...”

“You think you have a stomach ache? Celine jia is asleep? Okay, mama’s coming home okay?” you said frantically before shutting off the stove of the food at the counter, running to the back for a pack of meds, depositing some money into the register. You looked at Yukhei, frozen at his seat, cursing at yourself for not going into the back room before picking up the call.

“You need to go, I have something to deal with,” you said as you grabbed your bag, turning off all the switches in one go, making the place pitch black other than the lights from the lamp posts outside.

“Is that my child?” Yukhei asked, he can't allow himself to act like it never happened before, he ran away once, it's time to man up and shoulder on his responsibilities.

“No I fucked another guy before you and it's his child,” you deadpanned.

You walked down the street to flag for a taxi that is always parked there to get their club goer customers, Yukhei hot on your heels, you turned back to look at him questioningly.

“This is none of your concern, don’t follow me,” you said in a rather seething tone, you didn't mean to sound like that, but if he's going to be in the way of your child, then he’s not a friend.

“That's my child too, I want to know how they are, I have a right to do so, you studied law, you should know,” Yukhei retorted in the most friendly way possible, he knows he's in the wrong, but he wants to ensure his child’s safety.

“For fuck’s sake,” you cursed aloud before stepping into the taxi, leaving the door open for him.

You told the driver your address, sitting back to think of what's the problem, the kindergarten shouldn't be the culprit, it's a school with a good reputation, which also burns a hole in your wallet, but you don't mind, and it's not like you have much of a choice, education is deadly expensive here.

About 20 minutes later, you've reached home.

“That'll be 150, miss,” the driver said.

“What?!”

“Fares are different after midnight, miss,” the driver reminded you.

Before you could check if you had enough money on you, Yukhei paid for it wordlessly.

You got out of the car, rushing into the building and running up the stairs as quick as you can, unlocking the door, jabbing the keys into the rusty lock.

Taking off your shoes before you made your way to your room, spotting your son crouched in the corner of your bed, hands around his stomach.

“Hey, mama's home, I'll get you a glass of water to take your medicine okay?” you said before hurrying out, Yukhei passing you a glass of water at the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before making your way back inside.

You open the package and passed you son a tablet, but looking at the size, you knew he’d panic to swallow something this big, so you broke it in half, telling him to drink a big gulp of water to wash it down and it'll be fine.

All the while, Yukhei was watching with wonder leaning by the door frame, even in the dim lights and the fact that he's still quite young, he could still identify his eyes on his son, the strong genes in his family, his father and brother all had those eyes, this boy is most definitely his.

The boy diligently does as you told him, taking a big gulp of water, so obedient, and from the way the two of you communicate, very mature for his age, nothing like the usual three year old.

When he was done, he noticed Yukhei’s presence, tugging your sleeve to whisper into your ear, eyes trained on him.

“That's a friend of mine, love, be polite, say hi to Yukhei gogo,” you urged.

Yukhei took this as a sign to get closer to his son, squatting down to meet his eye.

“You’re a handsome boy, what's your name? I’m Yukhei and I’m 22 this year, how about you?” Yukhei asked as he reached out his hand for the little boy to shake.

“I’m Wenghei, 3 years old. Why have I never seen you before gogo?” the child asks, looking at him with curious eyes, he's met some of your friends, but he's definitely haven't met him before, most people aren't as tall here, or not in his mother's circle anyways.

“Get some rest, love,” you said, tucking him into bed.

“Okay,” he said, a yawn coming out from his mouth.

You closed the door behind you, directing Yukhei to the small living room area, serving him a glass of water.

You walked to the trash bin, opening the lid to check its contents, a scowl on your face when you saw the root of your son’s stomach ache when you spot the plastic container that contained the two day old pizza from the freezer. Your roommate, Celine, must’ve gave him some as dinner, usually you'd leave some money for Celine to buy him dinner, but she must've been tight on money again, trying to find ways to squeeze in some spare change, you've warned her of her spending habits, always splurging on albums of her favourite stars, which reminds you.

“You have to go, I’m living with a roommate and I'm sure she's going to recognise you,” you said, a hand gesturing at the door.

“Wait, did you find out why he had a stomach ache?” Yukhei asked.

“Yeah, he ate something he shouldn't have for dinner, you have to go, I need some rest for tomorrow,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Do you have anything on tomorrow? Can I see you, perhaps?” Yukhei asked, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but he just had to see you again.

“I’m tutoring a student at a coffee shop tomorrow, you can come right after,” you said, thinking that he just wants to know more about his son.

“Okay, goodnight then,” Yukhei said awkwardly as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, feeling a weight on your chest, dreading tomorrow’s meeting.

When Yukhei arrived at the café, he could see you sitting at the way back, a teenage girl sitting in front of you, back facing him, he sipped on his latte, observing you silently.

Your hair is much longer than it had been in high school, the bag hung by your chair very much worn out, and your eye bags were heavier than on days where Yukhei would stay up to prepare for promotions.

Soon, the student was packing up, leaving the table, Yukhei took this as a sign to move to your table. You had stood up to greet him, and that's when he saw, you had lost lots of weight, and he's not meaning it in a fitness way, he recognised the jeans you are wearing, you had these even back then, they used to be a perfect fit for you, that's why they were your favourite, but now, you were wearing a belt to hold it together, and still he could see how loose it was.

“Hey, you didn't order anything?” Yukhei asked, noting that the cup of coffee he saw just now belonged to your student.

“I got a coffee in my flask, cheaper that way,” you said as you packed up your stationaries.

“What did you have for breakfast? How about I order you a piece of cake?” Yukhei suggested, looking back to see what they have today.

“It's alright, I'm not hungry, why don't we get straight to the point? What is it you want to ask about Wenghei?” you asked, noting the time on your watch, you have to leave around noon to fetch your son from pre school.

“I, how about you? Why did you leave the firm? And how’s your parents?” Yukhei started off.

“Well, they said I would’ve been an embarrassment to the firm, you know, pregnant and unmarried, so they told me to leave, it's not like filing could be done with a big weight in my stomach, so I did as they said. Now I tutor kids English and work the night shift at the convenience store, and as for my parents, they kicked me out,” you said, laying down the cards, no point avoiding his questions, especially not when you're in a hurry.

Yukhei nodded at your words, registering the fact that he had a fault in ruining your hot shot lawyer dreams and completely destroyed your sensitive relationship with your parents, how is he ever going to forgive himself?

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei said, he didn't know what else to say, how could he make it up to you and your son? Will you let him even if he could?

“Don't be, this is on the both of us, are you going to ask about the share custody stuff? If so, I don't think we should continue this conversation, Wenghei doesn’t know who you are, and maybe that's the best case scenario, what point would be made if he knew you were his father but you're not in our lives? It'll break his heart. You've seen him now, maybe you can reconnect with him when he's older, I think you should just say goodbye before you go, if you want,” you said, saying these harsh words aloud wasn’t easy, you’re not entirely a cold hearted bitch, but it's for the best that your son didn’t know about his father, no one wants to know the fact that their father abandoned them twice, some truths are better to be untold.

“Can I see him one last time, maybe tonight? For dinner? I'm leaving in two days,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Yeah, sure, I'll take the shift off tonight,” you said, eyes avoiding his, you could just tell he’d have those sad puppy eyes on his face right now, you don't need anymore guilt in your heart.

“Hey man, where were you?” Jackson asked Yukhei, who was waiting for him at the harbour, they were going to Macau for a day trip today, his friend isn't late for the boat, but they did schedule to meet 15 minutes earlier.

“Something came up, and I need to head back around 7, there’s some people I need to see,” Yukhei said as they boarded the boat.

“So that leaves us 5 hours, should be enough,” Jackson said, checking his watch.

“I’m sorry about this, man, it just came up suddenly,” Yukhei said as they took their seats, apologetic because they have been talking about this trip for a long time now.

“It's okay, dude, but what's up? You look really stressed,” Jackson asked, taking in Yukhei's clenched jaw and furrowed brows, a stark contrast from his usually carefree expression.

“It's a long story,” Yukhei said as he mindlessly watches the sea from the little window of his seat.

“Well, if you don't mind, this is a 45 minutes journey, maybe we'll be able to find a solution together, what are friends for am I right?” Jackson offered, he wouldn't press his friend if he didn't want to tell him about it, but the two of them have been close ever since going on knowing brothers, coming from the same home country and everything.

And so Yukhei, for the first time, told his friend his long love story.

“You know, I think I have a solution for you, but let me ask you one thing first, do you still love her?” Jackson asked as he ate his pork chop bun, Macau’s famous local snack.

Yukhei pondered over his friend’s question, yes the two of you agreed to break up, but all the girls he dated after you, all had similar features or personality traits to you, he had dismissed it as just a type, but now that he had seen you again, he realised that the hole in his heart was always emptied for you, you were the missing puzzle piece all along.

“You don't even have to answer me, your face tells all man,” Jackson said, an oily finger wagging at the direction of his face.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Yukhei said with a sigh, “but even if I still love her, that doesn’t mean she loves me back, and what if we do love each other? We're living oceans apart,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Now here comes my solution, so you said she got fired from her law firm and is now tutoring kids and doing the night shift at 7 E, and got kicked out by her shitty parents, so she really doesn't have anything else here for her other than her son, why don't you suggest get to move with you? To Korea? It'll be way easier for the two of you to raise your son, even if the two of you don't get back together, I mean, at least you'll be able to financially support them, that is what you're willing to do right?” Jackson asked, hoping that his friend would uptake his part of the child support.

“Yeah, of course I want that, I just don't know what she'll say, or if she'd be willing, she doesn't speak the language and it's an entirely different environment,” Yukhei said, thinking back the days where he had a tough time adjusting.

“From what you told me, she sounds like a tough nut, but of course, this is all up to you, but just so you know, I would really like to be his godfather, and as for your doubts of her love towards you, she did name him after you, isn't it the same Hei?” Jackson said with a hearty chuckle, he could just imagine the fun they'll have together, he was always fond of children.

“Yeah, I’ll persuade her on this,” Yukhei said, he could already feel himself getting nervous for tonight’s dinner, it can’t be that much of a coincidence that his son’s last name resembled his right? Or is he and Jackson just being delusional?

“Now that's my buddy, now come on, finish your food so that we’ll make it in time for the next batch of Portuguese egg tarts, I remember they have a fresh batch around 4,” Jackson said, mouth salivating at the thought of more food.

When you arrived at the restaurant, it was fancier than what you had expected, feeling underdressed among the rich elite of Hong Kong in your old dress that you wear for every special occasion.

You asked if there was a reservation under your name, since Yukhei said he had it booked under you, and almost immediately, since not that many people can afford places like these, the waiter led you in.

“Mama, what is this place? We've never ate here before,” your son asked you.

“It's a French cuisine restaurant, we’re meeting gogo here, remember him? Or were you too sick that day?” you said as you placed him on the baby chair you had requested for.

“Yeah, I remember,” your son said as he looks around in awe, registering the pretty chandeliers that look so sparkly.

When the waiter handed you a menu, someone had joined your table, his hoodie pulled up so no one would recognise him, pulling it down when he saw that there wasn't any other customers around.

“Sorry, am I late?” Yukhei asked with a sheepish smile, a hand lifting up to check the time.

“No, we’re just early, say hi to Yukhei gogo, love,” you directed the last part to your son, patting his little hand to get his attention, smiling immediately when he lands on the tall figure.

“Gogo, you're here,” your son said excitedly, making grabby hands at him, letting his father carry him with a large smile on his face.

“Hey, buddy, don't you look excited to see me?” Yukhei said before blowing raspberry at his neck, making the young boy giggle.

What you didn't expect was to see someone coming up behind Yukhei, a little bit shorter and smaller in built, but when he pulled his hoodie down, you instantly recognised who it was.

“Jackson Wang?” you asked, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you were hallucinating.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, you look lovely tonight, and you must be little Wenghei, aren't you adorable, how about Jackson gogo take you out to buy toys, huh? I saw a big toy store just across the street, but only if your ma says yes of course,” Jackson said, giving you a side eye to Yukhei.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, it's not like the Jackson Wang is going to kidnap your son right?

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him with my life,” Jackson said as Yukhei passes his son over to him, leaving the restaurant with his hood up once more.

“Is there something you'd like to say?” you asked Yukhei after he had taken the seat across you his hands were shaking slightly as he holds up the menu.

“I... I still love you. And I know I must sound like a jerk to you, hell I’d go back in time just to hit myself for running away, I'm really sorry for that. What I did was inexcusable, my career just stabilised at that time, and I was under immense stress from SM, you have every right to be mad at me, but I want to be apart of your life again, apart of Wenghei’s life as well, if you could let me have this second chance, I'll do anything to make the both of you happy,” Yukhei said in one breath, reciting what he had practised over and over again with Jackson in the car.

“Yukhei, I,” you were lost for words, you thought you were saying goodbye once more, that Yukhei and you would always end up in goodbyes, but now here he is, saying he loves you.

“Yukhei, you can't just say you love me for the sake of our son, and neither would you need to take responsibility for him, I chose to have him, and as for love, we can never be together, you’re an international super star now, and you're living in Korea, I don't think I have the energy to be in a long distance relationship with you, that would take a toll on Wenghei too, how am I going to explain to him that his father is in another country? He’ll always question your love for him and I don't want that,” you said, trying to hold in the tears that had built up in your eyes, your throat closing up, the cold facade you built for yourself crumbling down before his eyes.

“You can move to Korea, both of you, we can be a family,” Yukhei pleaded, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, his eyes searching yours.

“We can’t, what if we break up? What if your so called love for me, is just something you feel as a result of our child? You can't uproot the two of us when there's so many uncertainties, especially our emotions,” you said, you don't want either of you to be stuck in a relationship for the sake of raising a child, no one would be happy in the end.

“Love, you don't understand, I've never had a serious relationship after you, I tried, I really did, but I’d always think of you instead, how badly I wanted you instead of someone who reminds me of you, the thing is, I’ve always loved you, and I think you still love me too, or you wouldn't have named our son after me, am I right?” Yukhei hoped, why else would you come up with that name right?

Damn it, you thought to yourself, he saw right through you, maybe you shouldn't have named your son after him.

You looked at him and looked away, darn those puppy eyes, you’re sure you’re crying now, and Yukhei reaching over to wipe away your tears just confirmed it.

“I love you, it's always been you, only you,” Yukhei confessed.

“I, I love you too, Yukhei, and I was never mad at you for running away from us, I know how tough that industry is, but what if your fans find out about us?” you asked, slightly worried that he might lose it like last time.

“Then so be it, true fans would stay,” he said in an affirmative tone, reassuring you.

“You promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky, it would’ve been a funny sight to see if anyone saw the two of you now, crying and smiling at the same time.

“I promise,” Yukhei said before hooking his own pinky to connect with yours.

“If you leave us, Wong Yukhei, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” you said as threatening as you could sound.

“I plan to see our son grow up, so I'll value my life,” Yukhei said in utmost sincerity before grabbing a napkin to wipe away all your tears, you’re glad that you didn't wear any mascara today.

Just when Yukhei wiped away the tears in his eyes, Jackson was back with your bubbly child, his arm had bags digging into his flesh.

“Oh my god, that's too much, Wenghei why did you get so many, this is Jackson gogo’s hard earned money,” you said, lecturing your son.

“It's okay, he's an angel, this was all on me, and I guess things went well?” Jackson asked, eyes darting to your connected hands.

“Yeah,” you said, the biggest smile you had on your face.

“That's great to hear, I always wanted to be an uncle, now if you’ll excuse me, I don't think I should crash this family reunion any longer,” Jackson said giving his best friend a hug before leaving.

“So... What do you like to eat Wenghei? How about we get crème brulé,” Yukhei asked, pointing at the menu with childlike eyes, reminding you of the days where he’d get ice cream with you, splitting it on half for you to share.

“Sounds delicious.”

You let Yukhei order everything, sharing between the three of you while the three of you talked, Yukhei mostly directed the questions at his child, asking about his interests, his favourites of everything, ranging from colour to ice cream, eager to make up for loss time.

“How about we talk about where you'll be staying?” Yukhei asked after ordering dessert.

“Oh, I don't know what I'll be able to afford, I'll probably get another convenience store job again, so the rent can't be too high,” you said, dreading the thought of needing to learn a new language quickly for a job.

“Hey, you don't need to work anymore, nor pay rent, I already looked it up, there's an empty unit in our condo, the soundproofing might be a bit lacking, but that wouldn't be a problem if you don't sing in the shower like Dejun, we had a few noise complaints because of him,” Yukhei said, laughing at the fond times he had at the dorms.

“Yukhei, I know housing is really expensive there, are you sure you want to do this?” you asked once more, you don't want him to resent the financial burden the two of you would add onto him.

“What did I say to you just now? I said what I meant, I want the two of you to be in my life, forever. And don't worry about money, I saved up plenty and there’s many more jobs coming up for me, and moving out of the dorms would be the next step of adulthood to me, and we’ll get to spend so much more time together, right Wenghei?” Yukhei asked, pinching your son’s chubby cheeks teasingly.

“We’ll be living together, Yukhei gogo?” your son asked, a confused expression on his face, he had his attention trained on some pink fong video, something about dinosaurs.

“Yeah, Wenghei, we’ll be moving out of our little room, are you excited? We're going to a new country. Remember the dramas I watched with you? Korea has that big outdoor theme park you said you always wanted to go, and snow, you'll get to make snowmen during the winter,” you persuaded, hoping he won’t fuss too much about the move.

“Really? There’s snow in Korea?” your son asked, excited about the winter scene he’ll get finally see in real life.

“Yeah, real snow, not the bubbles in Disney land, are you excited?”

“Yeah, is Jackson gogo going to stay with us too?” your son asked, eyes darting to his new goodies before looking at you expectantly.

“Well, Jackson gogo has his own house and we have ours, but we can always visit him,” Yukhei explained.

“Hehe, okay,” your son said before getting distracted by the crème brulé set in front of him, digging in immediately.

“When do you want us to make the move?” you asked, thinking of all the things you have to pack, which isn't a lot, but you might have to courier some of your clothes over first.

“Whenever you want, I'll get our home ready as soon as possible, is there anything you need in the house? Other than the basics of course,” Yukhei asked, uncertain of any needs you have as a woman or maybe for your son.

“Can we have a study room for Wenghei? With a desk and shelves? We love to read, and he'll need a proper desk when he's older,” you asked, hoping it wasn't too much.

“Yeah, sure, I'll be sure to get it done,” Yukhei said, noting it down into his phone.

“But it's no rush on the study room part, he's just three after all, before I go, I have to apply visas for both of us,” you said, dreading the thought of filling up paperwork, you haven't done much of that ever since you left the law firm.

“Call me if you need any help on that, I'm sure my manager knows how to,” Yukhei said.

“You’re going to tell your company about us?” you asked, knowing how strict Korean entertainment companies are.

“They can't let me go just because of having my own family, they didn't let Jongdae, my senior, go, so we’ll be fine, I promise,” Yukhei said, reaching a hand over to hold yours reassuringly, his eyes looking into yours, filled with love and adoration.

“Okay, now how about we walk around the complex until 10? Wenghei doesn't have school tomorrow,” you suggested.

“Yeah, sure, we could even stay out later if you want,” Yukhei said enthusiastically, getting up slightly to call for the bill.

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you reminded him in your motherly voice, which you regretted almost instantly, cursing yourself, reminding yourself to act more like an actual 22 year old, but Yukhei didn't say anything about it, hiding his smile by nodding deeply, almost like a bow.

“Okay, I just wanted to spend more time with the two of you,” Yukhei said, stopping when he saw the waiter coming back with the credit card machine, paying with just a glance at the bill.

The three of you spent your remaining time shopping and at the arcade, playing games with your son, Yukhei had insisted on getting you a new pair of sneakers, but you shot him down when he wanted to buy more stuff, especially toys for Wenghei.

“You can buy him toys when we’re there, it'll cost even more to ship more stuff over, and there's a risk of damaging the toys as well,” you said.

But of course your son threw a fit at the shop, all for some legos.

“Hey, buddy, I'll buy you lots the next time I see you, okay? I'll buy you one that's even bigger than this,” Yukhei said, squatting down next to his son, and even then he wasn't eye level with him, sometimes you forget how tall Yukhei actually is until you see a scene like this, or when you stand really close to him.

When it was 10pm, painful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise of face timing everyday, your son cried, and held onto his father dearly, and you haven't even told him Yukhei was his dad, but their bond is evident.

Yukhei held onto you and your son until his taxi came, and you waved until you couldn't see the taillights.

It's been a month since that fateful reunion, and Yukhei has squeezed in face times, calls, and texts in between schedules, giving you and your son time despite his busy career.

His company wasn’t too happy about it of course, but was somewhat glad that you weren't one to babble your business to gossip outlets.

You're now packing your things, one last time, you've been to the post office multiple times before to courier out your stuff to Korea, and every time a box reached his address, Yukhei would take a photo of it, telling you the stuff arrived safely.

Progress on your new home was quick, since it was already a fully furnished unit, Yukhei only needed to buy some furniture and things that cater to your son’s needs, he even picked out a pre school that teaches mandarin, perfect for your son’s adjustment in such a foreign country.

Tomorrow you'd be flying to Korea, a new country, a new start, but there was something clouding your mind, something you've been dreading, but today is the day you’ll tell him.

“Wenghei, can you come to mama for a second?” you asked, soon hearing your son’s tiny footsteps nearing you.

“Yes, mama?” your son asked, a hand around his precious teddy.

“There's something I need to tell you,” you said holding him close to you, letting him sit onto your lap.

“Remember how you asked me why you didn't have a baba while all your other classmates did?” you asked, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

“You said my baba had a really big responsibility, that he couldn't see us because of it, that he'll come back when he's free,” your son answered you, struggling to remember more details.

“Yes, good job, Wenghei, your memorising skills are getting better. Well, your baba is actually Yukhei gogo, he’s back now, and we can finally be a family again,” you said before holding in a breath, not knowing how he’ll react.

“Baba is Yukhei gogo? That's why we’re going to Korea?” your son asked, confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, do you like that he's your baba?” you asked, this could be the most important question ever.

“Yeah, mama, do you love baba? Does baba love you as much as I do?” your son asked, which very much surprised you, but expecting this sort of maturity from him.

“Yes, we love each other, and both of us love you as much too,” you said with a pinch of his chubby cheeks.

“Do we ever have to be separated from baba again?” your son asked, scared of losing his newfound father.

“No, never again, and can you do me one favour, Wenghei? I think the next time when you see your baba, you should run up to him and say hi baba, he’ll be very happy to hear you call him that,” you suggested, imagining the look on Yukhei’s face.

Your son giggled at the thought of making his father happy, agreeing immediately.

“Okay, now go to sleep, it's going to be your first time flying tomorrow,” you said, ushering him onto the bed.

“Okay, goodnight, mama,” your son said to you, just like he did every other night, he seemed to have accepted it very easily, maybe it was due to his age, but some day he might ask his father about his departure personally when he understands more, but that’s a hardship that’s reserved for another day.

The flight was relatively short, though it was rather hard for Wenghei at the start because of the pressure he had experienced in his ears, the crying and whining got you plenty of dirty looks from passengers around you, but you paid no mind to it, you’ve been through worst so this is nothing that can faze you.

When you got there, you saw a lady holding up a plaque with your name on it, her phone in her hand, checking all the moms who came out of the same lane as you.

She had a friendly smile on her face when she saw you, introducing herself in mandarin, being one of Wayv’s staff, a trusted one, according to Yukhei.

She talked to you about Yukhei in general, even giving your son a bar of mini KitKat, praising him for being brave on the flight after she had asked you how was your flight.

Around half an hour later, you've reached your new home, a nice looking condominium that looked about a few years old.

Unloading took quite some time, even with the help of the staff, but what surprised you was the person who was waiting for you inside the lobby.

“You're here!” you said surprised at the sight of the giant.

“Yeah, I am, wanted to give you a surprise, sorry I couldn't be outside, some crazy fans camp outside, can’t let them bring you and Wenghei any harm,” Yukhei said as he carried Wenghei, spinning in a small circle, looking at him with full of love.

“I understand, don't worry, I'm not a teenager girl anymore,” you said as you checked out the place, the sitting area had a couch set and free WiFi, this is a 180 from the living conditions in Hong Kong.

“Baba, did you miss me?” your son asked when he had stopped giggling from his father’s spins, which instantly ceased to a halt, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“What did you call me? Say it again,” Yukhei said with the biggest smile on his face, all of his teeth were showing.

“Mama said you were my Baba,” Wenghei said like it was as simple as two plus two.

“Yeah... I am your baba, and you're my son,” Yukhei said before holding his son even closer, you could even see the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Why don't we go see our new home Wenghei?” you suggested, seeing that some people have came out from the lifts, typical going to work hours.

You walked a feet away from Yukhei, not wanting to draw attention, holding onto the lift for Yukhei to bring all your luggage in.

Once you were at your level, you started loosening up, noticing that no one was around.

“This is my members’ unit,” Yukhei said pointing at a door, “And this is ours,” Yukhei said before opening the door for you, welcoming you into a warmly decorated home, every piece of furniture was placed and chose to accommodate your child, all the corners were covered with this e rubber safety stickers.

He showed you into Wenghei's room where the bed had all his favourite characters in the form of a plushie, his bed was soft when you sat down on it, and the blanket he had picked out was a soft fleece material, perfect for the cold weather.

Your son was going around every corner, awing at everything his father had gotten him, especially the Lego sets that were on his desk.

“Thank you, it's beautiful, his room,” you said when Yukhei wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, god how much you've missed his warmth.

“Go take a look at your room,” Yukhei said before pulling your hand into the direction of the master bedroom, welcoming you into a room with a king size bed and silk linen sheets, an aesthetic looking vanity that you've always wanted as a teenager, now as well of course, and a little reading corner just for you by the window.

“It's all I've ever wanted,” you said in disbelief, not knowing how could Yukhei pull this off in such a short time.

“You like it? I got some help from my members, especially Kun for the kitchen, you should check it out afterwards, you always wanted a big kitchen area,” Yukhei said as you laid on the bed, giving your stiff body a rest from the journey.

“Lay down with me for a while, I’m a bit tired from the flight,” you said, making grabby hands at him.

“Nah, I shouldn’t, this is your bed,” Yukhei said, looking flustered.

“Wong Yukhei, I’ve had your child and now you're acting all innocent?” you asked in an accusing tone, playing with him, which made him lay down next to you immediately, he didn't like getting you angry, thinking back all those days when you had lectured him just like that when he forgot to do his homework.

“You want me to sleep here?” Yukhei asked carefully, observing your expressions.

“This is our bedroom, where else do you want to sleep?” you asked, but was promptly cut off by Yukhei's lips on yours, smiling as he kissed you, gentle but expressing all his love for you, a hand lingering on your back, guiding you closer than him.

Many mistakes that had to be made had guided you here, but you've never regretted, for if it wasn't for the hardships and the crossroads, you wouldn't have found a home with the man you'll cross oceans for.

The end.

#lucas smut #lucas fluff #lucas wong #wong yukhei #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv #this is rather cliche sorry

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sit-down-and-shut-up · 4 years

Text

time- a. hotchner

SUMMARY: you get kidnapped lol

WARNINGS: kidnapping (duh), some injuries but everyone lives, aaron being m a d, and reader being a freaking baddie

WORDS: too many 6604

A/N: sorry that it’s been a hot minute since i posted, im lazy

Aaron glanced up as the workday finally drew to a close, watching you wave goodbye to the team and stroll towards the unit chief’s office, just in time to see JJ as she ascended the steps on her way to the room as well. You started to wave, but JJ murmured something you couldn’t make out and you stopped. Aaron’s blood ran cold, and he mentally cursed himself for being naive enough to believe that things would work out for once. He turned to look at Emily and Morgan through the blinds, who’d been talking near Emily’s desk, and saw their eyes trained on you and JJ. Emily swore under her breath, then headed to the conference room with Spencer and Derek not far behind.

+++++

Aaron sat down next to you in the conference room, meeting your eyes and giving you a halfhearted smile. You returned the gesture and went back to scanning the grisly photos before you. He zoned out as JJ spoke, giving the rundown on each of the girls that had been abducted, then murdered mere hours later. The murders seemed somewhat random, with the exception that the victims were all girls in their upper 20’s. In fact, they were all 29, just like you were.

Something clicked in your mind, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You could feel Aaron’s steely gaze on you, and you wondered briefly if he could tell what you were thinking. You were lost in your thoughts, to the point where you didn’t hear Aaron’s deep “Wheels up in 30.” After everyone had left the conference room, Aaron turned back to see you still staring at the photos, searching for something you couldn’t quite name among the blood spatters and empty faces. He walked over to you and gently tapped your shoulder, causing your head to whip up to face him. Realization washed over your eyes, and you mumbled an apology.

Aaron shook his head in response, saying “I’m sorry. I was hoping we’d actually get to go out tonight.” You sighed, then replied.

“Who knows? Maybe the unsub will be caught by the time we get there and we can go get dinner or something.” You laughed as you said it, but your laughter was tinged with a resigned sadness Aaron despised, wishing he could take you somewhere you’d never be forced to feel this way again. Aaron watched you for a few seconds longer, as your face darkened and you grabbed your files and left the room, heading to his office, where both of your go-bags were. He wanted to tell you so much, but wasn’t sure how to start. He wanted to tell you that he’d been planning to propose this evening, that he wanted to be with you forever. But he couldn’t.

+++++

Aaron noticed you lost in your thoughts again on the plane ride while the rest of the team went over the case. The sheer amount of bodies was enough to give someone pause. In addition, the unsub took a girl each Thursday, but never kept them for more than a few hours. Why?

The plane ride felt fairly short. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as the plane touched down in New York, where you’d gone to college years earlier, and worked before you were transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and moved to Quantico. As you walked into the FBI field office with the rest of the BAU, you couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the last time you’d been in the building, when working a terrorism case alongside Agent Joyner four years earlier.

She’d been killed immediately by a bomb in your SUV, and metal had been lodged in your left leg, cutting the femoral artery and nearly causing you to bleed out. If not for your Aaron, you would’ve died there, on the cold pavement. When Aaron came to visit you while you recovered from surgery, you managed to slur out that you loved him. At the time, he blamed it on the drugs you were on, until he showed up at your hospital room again a few hours later, to drive you home. You’d suffered hearing loss as well, and coupled with your leg injury, you couldn’t go in the field or on the plane for a while. As he helped you up and handed you the crutches you’d be relying on for nearly a year, you met his eyes and said confidently, “I meant what I said earlier.”

He’d paused for a second, before his lips spread into a rare smile, and he said, “I love you too.” You’d always known the relationship wouldn’t be easy, considering his recent divorce and your unconventional jobs, but you were fine with it. Being with Aaron was good enough.

Present-day Aaron subtly placed a hand on the small of your back, a sign of encouragement he’d adopted over the years. You glanced up at him and nodded, silently letting him know you were okay. He dropped his hand, and held it out to the new director of the New York field office: Agent Milenka, an enthusiastic but imposing woman you’d met at the Academy when you were younger. You caught Morgan glaring at her for a second, reminding you that Morgan almost got that job. Still, you knew that Morgan loved you all too much to leave the BAU for a job directing the New York field office. The team was his rock, the weight that tethered him to reality when he was at his lowest. Aaron introduced Milenka to the rest of your team, until she cut him off when he got to you.

“I know her,” she declared loudly, “I was her firearms trainer at the Academy, but she had to show me up and be better with a gun than I am.” Spite dripped from her words, but the mischievous smile on her face told you she wasn’t really upset. Aaron nodded slightly, caught off-guard by her remark, then interjected to ask where his team could set up.

Agent Milenka led all of you to an empty conference room, with the case files already arranged neatly and a blank evidence board at the front of the room. She turned on her heel and stared firmly at the team. If you hadn’t known her for years, you’d assume she was going to attempt to assert control over the case, but instead she said, “My agents have come to see this office as a family, and probably won’t take too well to the fact that I’ve called you in. If any of them give you hell, tell me, and I’ll make the devil look like a cuddly teddy bear.” She pivoted on her heel to leave, then turned back around. “Agent L/N, my office.”

+++++

You were shocked, to be honest. This woman could bring grown men to their knees, and now she sat in front of you, spinning in a swivel chair, teasing you over your obvious infatuation with Aaron Hotchner.

“Really, Milenka, I gotta get back to the team,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine”, she grunted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “But here’s what I meant to tell you. I’m guessing you and your team want to know why it took this many bodies for me to call you in. I mean, I’d be wondering that, too. The bodies were all dumped two days ago, even though they’d all been dead for various amounts of time, so I’m guessing the unsub wanted to make sure I had to call you guys. Keep that in mind. He knows how this works.” The humor and mischief was gone from the agent’s voice, and in that moment you knew how she’d risen through the ranks of the FBI so quickly. Something about her made you want to do everything you could to solve the case as quickly as possible. She wasn’t someone you could let down.

You grimaced, then nodded, unable to say anything, and left her office, getting coffee from the espresso machine for you and your teammates as you walked back to the conference room. As you passed around the cups, Aaron watched you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to relay whatever information Agent Milenka had told you, and so you did. The reactions among the team members were the same, set jaws and darkening eyes. You didn’t know where to start with the case, until you remembered the idea you’d gotten back in D.C. You leapt from the black desk chair you’d just sat down in and practically ran to the evidence board, grabbing a red dry-erase marker and organizing the victim’s pictures from the first to the last to be abducted. You circled the eyes on some of the pictures, the hair on others, the widow’s peaks on some, and other various defining features.

“He’s working up to someone specific,” Spencer muttered as you worked. You whipped around, pointing a finger at him and downing the last of your coffee.

“Yes! Okay, so, look at this: The first and last girl are wildly different, but when you look at the chronological order of the victims, each one gains another characteristic that the next one didn’t have, like he’s working up to getting one specific girl, and kept killing those that looked increasingly similar to his real target!” You blurted the words, and watched as your teammates looked on in a mix of awe and horror, at both the board and a piece of paper Spencer had messily written on. Aaron, who was usually so emotionless, looked especially horrified, and scared. You shot Spencer a questioning look, and he held up the paper he’d shown the rest of the team. He’d taken the first letter of each woman’s name, and when lined up, they spelled out a message.

Your name.

+++++

“You’re off the case.” Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest as you paced around the empty office he’d practically dragged you to.

“What? If some psycho is after me, I want to be the one to catch him!” You spoke firmly, almost yelling but not quite.

“If some psycho is after you,” Aaron started, sounding much calmer than you had, “I want you to be safe. Sending you out to hunt him down isn’t keeping you safe.”

You scoffed, then yelled, “As long as he’s out there, I’m not safe! If you let me help, we’ll find him faster. I can’t- no, I won’t- just sit here doing nothing while this man kills women just because he’s got some sort of vendetta against me!”

Aaron’s resolve broke down. You could tell from the way his back slumped and he pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the feeling of calm it brought. Your anger dissipated when he held you like that, and he knew it.

He murmured, “I can’t lose you,” into your ear, and your heart broke from the way his voice cracked from fear and sadness. Aaron pulled away far too soon, and gave you a look that you knew meant to stay put, and pulled out his phone to call Penelope Garcia.

A few moments later, Spencer walked in, hands in his pockets. He looked unsure of himself, and you couldn’t figure out why until he said, “Hotch wants me to drive you to the hotel.”

You stared at him silently for a second, then mumbled curses under your breath and stormed out of the room to find your bag. Spencer put an arm out to stop you, then said, “He said he’d bring it for you tonight.”

You glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze to the suddenly interesting polished linoleum beneath you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t be mad at you.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, and replied, “It’s okay. You’re stressed. We all are. Hotch just wants you to be safe.”

You nodded, and he led you from the building to the shiny, black SUV parked outside. Aaron jogged out of the building towards you, and grabbed the handle of the vehicle before you could. You met his eyes, and he murmured, “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to stay in the hotel room, okay? Lock the door, and I’ll be there tonight with your go-bag.” You nodded, and he paused a second before saying, “I love you.”

Your pride got the best of you, and you simply muttered, “I know.”

+++++

You’d been sure that the SUV’s tires were full when you’d arrived in New York, but the flat passenger tire begged to differ. Spencer pulled into a nearby gas station to fill up the tire, something you were fairly sure he’d never done before. You couldn’t help but laugh when he called Morgan to ask what to do, who responded that it would be easier for him to come fill up the tire himself. You mouthed that you had to go to the bathroom, and Spencer nodded as Morgan’s laughter came through the phone. You stifled laughter as you walked into the gas station, grimacing at the smell of sweat and cheap hot dogs.

+++++

Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so mad. No, mad wasn’t the word. Was there a word that could encapsulate the unadulterated fury coursing through his veins? He paced the conference room like a caged lion, practically screaming at Spencer and Derek through the phone.

“What the hell happened?”

Spencer was crying, he could tell that much from the muffled sobs, and Aaron couldn’t help but think that he might never see you again. He slammed the phone onto the table with nearly enough force to break it, and looked up to see Emily, Rossi, and JJ already halfway out the conference room, before he’d told them what happened. The four of them slid into the two remaining SUVs. Aaron screeched out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Rossi kept shooting him worried glances he pretended not to notice.

“We’ll find her,” Rossi said, “But you need to stay calm for us to do it.”

Aaron nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work right now. If he tried to speak, he knew he’d probably cry. He pulled into the gas station just before Emily and JJ, and a voice in his head reminded him that this might be the last place you’d ever see. Rossi hopped out of the car, giving Aaron a sympathetic look as he did so.

+++++

The team had been at the gas station for almost three hours, interviewing customers, collecting evidence, and talking to workers. Multiple people reported seeing a woman similar to who Aaron described enter the bathroom, but no one saw her leave.There was a window in the girl’s bathroom that had been broken from the inside, with blood on both the window and the glass. The forensics team ran the blood, and it was all from the same person.

Aaron didn’t need to hear the results to know whose blood it was. Spencer tried to help, informing him that she hadn’t bled out because women had approximately 4.5 pints of blood and that was at most half a pint, but Aaron cut him off. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen to everyone talking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, as though she was already dead. He knew the odds, knew that she was almost certainly going to be dead within the first 72 hours, considering how the unsub had killed the other women.

He was going to find you alive. He knew it.

Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

+++++

Everything was fuzzy and painful and oh my god what is that stuff coming out of your side and out of your hand and holy crap you can’t move you’re tied up what are you tied to what’s going on and-

“You’re even prettier than I remember.” The voice sounded familiar, but the only thing your brain could fully focus on at the moment was the excruciating pain. You felt a hand on your side, and then a searing pain that was somehow worse than the pain you’d already been feeling.

“You got a piece of glass in your side. I’m getting it out.”

You felt pressure on the spot, and forced your head to move so you could see what was going on.

He was wrapping your waist in some sort of bandage to staunch the bleeding. You forced yourself to look around the musty room you were in. You were seated in a chair, with your arms tied to the back of the chair by a coarse brown rope and a metal chain and heavy shackle attached to your left ankle. Your eyes followed the chain, to where it connected to a silver hook jutting from the wooden floor, which was coated in a layer of dirt.

Dirt.

You must be in a barn, or shed, or something. You definitely weren’t in New York City anymore.

You vaguely remembered what had happened in the gas station bathroom. There’d been a man waiting in the first stall, who jumped on you, shoving your head against the mirror hard enough to crack your skull. You figured that you’d blacked out, and he’d jumped the window with you in tow.

Then another memory washes over you like a tsunami, flooding you with regret.

Aaron said he loved you, and you didn’t say it back. Now, you might never get to tell him that you love him again.

+++++

Aaron removed himself from the case, leaving Rossi in charge. He knew he’d only slow everyone else down with the torrent of emotions dancing inside his skull. So now, he’s resorted to sitting in your hotel room alone, wishing he hadn’t told you to go to the hotel. He’d been crying for the first time in years.

Aaron had no clue what to do, and it gives him newfound respect for the families of abducted victims that he speaks to. He pulled the sparkling diamond ring he planned on giving you tonight out of his bag, staring at it and imagining it on your ring finger. It doesn’t make him happier, instead it just turns the steady stream of tears into a storm.

+++++

Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Emily, seated at the silver table in the conference room, were going over every last piece of evidence they have, while Spencer made a map of the abduction sites as Agent Milenka told him the addresses. They already established that the victims were high-risk due to their above-average athleticism, and each victim was taken from a high-risk location. Spencer looked for any sense of a pattern in abduction sites, but couldn’t find one. Eventually, he sat down next to Morgan and Emily, defeated.

“So all we know is that he’s obsessed with Y/N, and that he wasn’t remorseful about the murders of the other women.” Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if he was able to subdue her, he most likely had the element of surprise. So, he probably isn’t physically strong, and needed that advantage to knock her out.” Rossi added, and Derek nodded.

Spencer looked up from the crime scene photos. “There’s no ligature marks.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we went over that. So?”

“Why knock the women out and transport them if you’re just going to kill them immediately instead of holding them somewhere? Why not just kill them wherever they already are?”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “Practice. So that when he had Y/N, he knew exactly what was going to happen. But he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the fantasy by taking someone else where he’s planned to keep Y/N. He wants that to be special.”

“So we know he’s going to be holding her somewhere secluded, then,” Milenka chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, the phone rang in the center of the table, and the team members all stared at it for a few moments before Derek turned to the computer next to him, where Garcia was currently on a video call with the team.

“Can you trace this call, babygirl?”

Garcia nodded. “I don’t have a trap and trace set up yet, but I can get one, honey. Just gimme one second.”

Derek’s hand hovered over the button on the receiver to answer the call, and when Garcia affirmed that she was ready, Derek pressed the button. Instantly, a somewhat timid male voice filled the room.

“Where’s Agent Hotchner? I want to speak to him, not any of you.”

The team shared a perplexed look, and Emily asked, “How do you know who is here and who isn’t?”

“The window’s open.”

JJ ran to the window, then turned. “He’s there,” she said, pointing to a man directly underneath where the conference window was with a phone to his ear.

The rest of the team sprinted down the stairs and out of the field office, with JJ not far behind. By the time they got to where the man had been, he was long gone. No one near the area said they’d seen him, either.

Derek turned and punched the wall out of rage, while Emily cursed loudly. The rapid darkening of the sky didn’t help with trying to catch an unsub, either.

Dejectedly, the team returned to the conference room, where Garcia excitedly said, “Your man forgot to hang up for a few minutes! I don’t know entirely where he went, but I know the direction he was headed!”

“Where, Garcia?” Spencer asked, desperate for a lead.

“Straight west.”

Spencer looked to Emily, who said, “Let’s go.”

+++++

The team knew the unsub needed somewhere secluded to keep you, but couldn’t figure out where. He’d been on foot when they’d seen him, so it had to be somewhat close. Or maybe he’d had a car in a parking lot somewhere? There were too many variables. They needed Hotch.

+++++

“Drink.”

The man held a cup to your lips, but you kept them closed tight. After trying to force you for a while, he gave up. Sighing, the man ran a hand through your hair, forcing your head upright. For a serial killer, he was surprisingly gentle.

“You need your strength,” the man murmured, but you looked away when he picked up the cup again. He set it down, shaking his head, then pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. You knew better than to scream. It was likely that he craved your pain, so allowing him that satisfaction would coax him to continue. He walked behind you, to where you wouldn’t see him. You closed your eyes, praying for a quick death, praying Aaron would find you, praying you could see your team one last time.

But you didn’t need to.

The man cut through the rope binding your wrists, then left the room. He was rarely in the room with you, and you wondered what he was doing outside of it. For the first time, however, he came back within a few minutes of leaving. You could theoretically move if you wanted to now that the rope was gone considering how long the chain attached to your leg was, but you were weak and hurting. The last thing you saw before your vision went black yet again was the man standing above you with a syringe.

+++++

Aaron was with the rest of the team, visiting each abduction site for something, anything to help the profile, when the unsub called him.

“This is Hotchner.”

“I have her, Agent Hotchner, and I treat her better than you ever could. You think what she needs is a big strong man to control her,” he mocked, “But you don’t truly love her. No one could, except me.” Although the man’s words were confident, he sputtered out the words like an old truck engine. It sounded like he was reading a script, as though he’d had to plan out what he was going to say beforehand. As soon as the unsub finished speaking, the tell-tale click of the phone hanging up sounded.

Emily, who’d been walking next to him, stopped, pulling out her phone to contact Penelope.

“Can you get the rest of the team on the line? I think Morgan and Reid are at the Central Park crime scene, and JJ and Rossi are probably still by Times Square.”

Emily could practically hear Penelope’s smile as she responded, “Can do, gorgeous.”

A few keyboard clicks later, Penelope stated, “You’ve got me, Morgan, Rossi, Reid,and JJ.”

Emily took a shaky breath before saying, “We think Y/N knew the unsub.”

“What do you mean, knew?” Reid’s voice sounded.

“He claimed that he loves her more than Aaron ever could. He thinks he knows her better than us, so he probably knew her when she used to live in New York.”

“She went to college here, didn’t she?” JJ responded.

Penelope chimed in, exclaiming, “She went to John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Graduated top of her class.”

Morgan cleared his throat, then added: “Maybe the unsub didn’t know her, but thought he did. He could’ve been stalking her when she lived here, then kept tabs on her when she transferred to the BAU years ago.”

“He probably found out about Y/N’s relationship with Aaron recently, and that’s his stressor.” Rossi added.

Emily stared into the distance. There was something off about this. The theory made sense, but at the same time, it felt, well, wrong.

Agent Milenka, who’d been surveying the crime scene Emily and Aaron were at, sauntered over.

“I know who did this.”

Aaron met her firm gaze, confused and intrigued.

“Who?”

“There was this guy she met at John Jay, didn’t talk much, but he ended up applying to the FBI just because she did. He made it in a few months after her and got a job as a forensic analyst at our field office here. They worked together pretty often, and he was never too strange, but you got the feeling there was something off. He started acting weird after Y/N’s transfer to the BAU. I ordered another psych eval for him a few months ago, and he failed. I fired him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Aaron and Emily shared a look, both hopeful and sad.

“What’s his name?”

“Ian Foster.”

Aaron nodded, murmuring a quick thank you, then turned back to Emily.

“Call Garcia. We need all the information we can find on Ian Foster.”

+++++

Your head hurt. You were somewhere different now; the dirty brown floor had been replaced with plush white carpet, and the chair you’d gotten used to was gone. Your left leg was still shackled, but this time it was attached to a shiny metal spike in the center of the room. You surveyed your surroundings, noting the vast difference between your current location and your past one. The chain attached to your ankle was long, probably meant to give you full access to the room you were in but keep you from leaving. The walls were white and spotless, along with the queen-sized bed behind you and the dresser and vanity along the far wall. You knew you must look out of place compared to the neatness of your surroundings, with your frizzy, dirty hair and torn, wrinkled, and stained clothes. You realized that you’d never checked your holster for your gun, and in doing so, found it empty.

Great.

Sun shone through the window on your right, and birds chirped happily, as if mocking you. They were telling you that they’re free, while you’re locked in this stupid white room.

Your captor walked in soon after you woke up, and you knew he must be watching you through a camera hidden somewhere.

“Drink.”

Your eyes searched his face, trying to understand who he was, now that you had enough light to see.

“Foster?” You managed to croak out through your parched throat.

Ian nodded, then grabbed your face with one calloused hand, forcing you to open your mouth so he could pour water in, which you promptly spat into his eyes. Instead of causing him to stumble, all it did was make him laugh.

“I see you’re still as fiery as ever.”

You clamped your mouth shut, pursing your lips and staring him in the eyes until he left. After he was gone, you tried to move your arms as much as possible. Your limbs felt heavy, like you were attached to weights, but moving was somewhat possible, a little bit at a time.

For now, that would be enough. You just had to pray that Aaron could find you.

+++++

Ian Foster’s paper trail was a series of dead ends, but Penelope Garcia, being the lovely omnipotent being she is, was able to find two properties owned by his dead uncle in upstate New York that he was likely using to hold you.

Aaron couldn’t describe the relief that wrapped itself around him, like a soft blanket, when Garcia chirped that she’d found where he was. He’d refused to allow himself to think that you might be dead, and the knowledge that now he had your location was sweeter than any candy could ever be.

He wiped a tear from his eye that threatened to fall, and cleared his throat, nodding at Emily and Agent Milenka, wordlessly signaling her to join him as he ran towards the SUV they’d been using. Emily followed, calling JJ and Rossi to give them the address as she ran. The first property, an old farmhouse, was about 40 minutes away from their current location, while the second one, a pretty two-story house, was about three hours away. Hotch, Emily, and Milenka, being farthest from both locations, were driving to the house, while the rest of the team would check out the farmhouse first then meet them there.

+++++

There was this feeling, blossoming in your chest, comforting you, whispering that Aaron was on his way. You’d learned over the years that your instincts rarely lied to you, and you hoped to whatever God there was or wasn't, that this wasn’t one of the times they misled you.

So you knew what you had to do.

You acted nice every time Ian came to visit, roughly every half hour.

Then, after five visits, you drank the water he offered willingly. Gently, Ian helped you up off the ground, a gesture that would’ve been comforting had he not been a serial killer. He moved his hands until they were lightly situated on your waist, and gazed into your eyes with the crazed fanaticism of a deranged man. He leaned in for a kiss, and the second he closed his eyes, you drove your right knee directly into his crotch.

Serves him right for being dumb enough not to fully restrain you. While he doubled over in pain, stepping back, you set up for a roundhouse kick that you placed to the back of his knee, knocking him onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. While he was on the ground, you punched him in the throat with enough force to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air on the ground like a fish out of water. Sending another kick to his temple for good measure, rendering him unconscious, you searched his pockets for anything that could remove the shackle from your leg. Eventually, you settled for a wire cutter that you used to cut off the attaching chain, but your clumsiness left an angry gash in your leg in the process. Limping from exhaustion, you ran from the room as fast as you could with the pain in your side from the glass that had been lodged there and the blood from the cut in your skull dripping down your face and neck. Your head felt fuzzy and faint, and you knew you were likely to pass out from blood loss any second. You repeated Aaron’s name in your head like a mantra, telling yourself that you needed to get back to him first, then you could pass out from pain. Every part of your body ached, screaming at you to give up as you stumbled down the creaky carpeted stairs, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

As you neared the foyer, you heard the engine of a car, along with footsteps. The door flew open, with Aaron directly behind it, followed by Morgan, Emily, Spencer, Rossu, and a few agents from the New York office. Aaron’s eyes scanned the room before settling on you, bloodied and bruised, and he ran to you, gathering you in his arms while you whimpered like a child. He whispered things in your ear that you couldn’t make out as you let the blackness at the edge of your vision take over.

+++++

Lights. Murmuring voices. Were you still in that house?

You opened your eyes to see two people, one man and one woman, leaving the room you were in. There was a pressure on your hand that scared you, and slowly, you turned your head to see the source of the sensation, and you were greeted with what was quite possibly the best view you’d ever laid eyes on: Aaron Hotchner asleep at your side, desperately clutching your hand.

“Aaron?” You murmured. He was a light sleeper, so you knew the sound would most likely wake him up. When it didn’t, you squeezed his hand while murmuring his hand again. His head jerked up, and his tired eyes met yours.

“Y/N.” His voice was filled with so much anxiety, grief, and regret that your heart shattered, as he reached up to ever-so-gently caress your face, then kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” His words took the broken pieces of your heart and smashed them again with a hammer, until you were sobbing against Aaron’s chest. He held you, and let you cry, becoming painfully aware of his inability to help in times like this. His specialty was catching criminals, not helping people through the trauma, and he entertained the thought of asking JJ to talk to you for a fleeting moment, before deciding that he couldn’t let you out of his sight for the time being.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and lifted your head to wipe away your tears, but Aaron did it before you could. You stared down at your side for a moment, watching the blood that seeped through the bandage every time you took a breath, while you gathered enough courage to speak without your voice wavering.

“I’m sorry. You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back, and that could’ve been the last-”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You sat in silence with him for a while, leaning your head against his shoulder as he stroked your hair. Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.

“I saw what you did to Ian.”

You choked out a laugh despite the pain that ripped through you while doing so. “Yeah, I left him in pretty bad shape, didn’t I?”

Aaron nodded, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Most people wouldn't be able to escape a serial killer.”

“Well, I’m not most people, Hotchner.”

“That’s for sure.”

+++++

The rest of the team left for D.C. the next morning, but Aaron stayed to drive you home once you were discharged from the hospital. First, however, he dropped you off at the FBI field office to talk with Agent Milenka while he called Jessica to ask if she’d mind watching Jack for a few more days, explaining what happened to you. She practically viewed you as a sister, and after recovering from the initial horror, was happy to agree.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re alive!” Agent MIlenka called brightly as you limped into her office, bumping your crutched on the doorframe.

You chuckled. “Sadly, I am. Aaron told me it was you who figured out Foster had taken me. How’d you know?”

Milenka shrugged. “I may not be a profiler, but I sure as hell can tell when someone’s not right. The guy went almost crazy when you left New York. It just made sense.”

“But if that was his stressor, he would’ve started murdering earlier.”

“We thought at first that finding out about you and Agent Hotchner might’ve been the stressor, but it was impossible to tell when he’d found out, so we switched gears. I fired Ian a few months ago because he’d just been getting worse and worse, and eventually was a liability on cases. The last straw was him failing his psych evaluation. Maybe he felt that losing his FBI job meant he lost his last chance to be with you if he’d been hoping to transfer to your unit someday.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s around the time the kidnappings started, isn’t it?”

Milenka nodded. The two of you stood in her office in comfortable silence for a bit, until she stood up from her desk, crossing the distance between you and engulfing you in a nervous hug. She pulled away fairly quickly, most likely out of fear of hurting you, and awkwardly patted you twice on the shoulder. “Take care, Agent.”

“You too, Milenka.”

You turned to go, but stopped when you heard Milenka call, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotchner’s a good guy. Don’t let that one get away.”

You merely offered her a smile, then strode out of her office as elegantly as one can with a limp.

+++++

The ride home was nice, full of easy discussion, laughter, and a few guilty looks that Aaron snuck at your stitched-up side, wishing he’d listened to you.

You made a joke he didn’t hear, and leaned over in your seat so you could wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name in a sing-song voice.

“Aaron, you good?”

Aaron shook his head slightly, rubbed his eyes, then turned towards you. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You hummed in affirmation, then turned towards the window. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, until you arrived at Aaron’s house. You spent practically all of your time there. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped foot into your apartment. Aaron helped you into the house and to your shared bed, where you passed out immediately. You vaguely heard a soft whisper of “sleep well” before you were out cold.

Aaron watched you for what felt like hours, feeling pent-up stress and anger roll off of him in waves as he silently stroked your hair, grateful beyond words that you’d lived. You murmured something in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like “I love you,” before rolling over to curl against his chest, nuzzling your head against the crook of his neck. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. Aaron basked in the rare feeling of relaxation, thinking about how nice it would be to bottle up this feeling and keep it forever, until sleep finally pulled him into its soft clutches. And for once, with you safely nestled into him, he slept easily. He still hadn’t proposed, but that was okay. Now that you were safe, you two had all the time in the world.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #crimnal minds #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #Penelope Garcia #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

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hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#FBB2F3 | LEE FELIX.

genre | bittersweet, nostalgic fluff

word count | 2589

warning | none

tag | @fluffyskzclub

note | very easily could have been chan, but i wanted to write about lixie!!!

the paint on the brush splattered on the classroom floor after felix playfully nudged you with his feet. you groaned before regaining your balance, carefully hoisting yourself back on your kneeling position. your glare was paired by his light-hearted snickers.

"lix, either help me or go home," you said as you pointed the colorful end of the paintbrush at him threateningly. you pouted when he stood unfazed, smiling down at you with amusement. "i really need to finish this by tomorrow. everyone is counting on me!"

he took a step back when you returned your attention to the banner-sized canvas, adding more detail to the seemingly finished product. tilting his head, he admired the decorative artwork with both intrigue and cluelessness.

it was something his non-artistic self could have never done on his own, which was why the painting looked so grand to him, but he also couldn't understand why it wasn't finished yet when there was no more blank canvas left on the surface.

you obviously wanted to add more to the painting, but he couldn't see what there was to add that would make it less or more appealing. in the end, it would just look the same to him, so why couldn't you pack everything up so you two could finally go home?

looking up at the opened windows, felix sighed as he watched the orange sun slowly fade back into the mountains. he wanted to go home, but he had no plans to leave you alone at school at this hour, nor did he want you to walk home alone, so supposed he would have to stick with you and your endeavor for now.

"what do you need help with?" he asked as he took his hands out of his pockets and knelt next to you, accessing the painting with unease. "i might mess up."

"you're not touching the painting," you said as you reached over for the plastic color wheel and handed it to felix.

his eyes followed your hands—boxes of paint, a jar of dirty water, a paper of abandoned colors, and a spiky brush. after setting them around him, you reached for your bag on the chair nearby and pulled out your notebook from the thin gap of your heavy textbooks.

felix raised his brows when you leaned over to him, flipping the pages of your notebook before stopping at a messy page. he saw circles and circles of colors, lined up together in a way that looked like detailed instructions but also a disorganized brainstorm map. his gaze moved from the notebook to the color wheel, utterly clueless.

"do you see number three, eight, and twenty-five? mix those colors for me," you instructed, pointing briefly at the paper before dropping it before his knees and turning back to the painting. "make sure they look like the ones in the notebook but a little more vibrant!"

felix nodded as a soft, confused hum of an agreement left his lips. he gripped the paintbrush in his hand, his shaky eyes glancing at the colors on your notebook and the lines of acrylic paint.

a gentle fear shook upon his ground when he was shifting through the colors. he could not tell the difference between the first red paint and the seventh one, but they had different names so they must be two kinds of red. putting his shrunken hand next to his face, felix licked his lower lip with concentration, thinking that if he stared at the colors long enough they would appear different to his eyes.

they did not.

giving up, he glanced up at you in preparation to ask for your advice, but he stopped when he saw that you were putting your utmost attention to the painting. with softened eyes, he decided to bother you at a later time—

"uh, haha, no," you interrupted the trip down memory lane with a sharp chuckle, and you looked up at felix with a sneer. "that was not how it went."

felix tossed his much longer hair away from his face with shy laughter. his short ponytail bounced slightly and his side fringes framed his sharp face. shoving his hands further down the pockets of his coat, he jutted his lower lip out and shrugged, "that was how i remembered it though."

"then you have bad memories," you scoffed, "you kept bothering me about the colors that i ended up telling you to just step aside and wait for me."

"i was not bothering you!"

"yes, yes you were."

"i was–ack! i was being thorough!" he retorted, throwing his arm out and waving his finger at you. there was a flustered smile on his face; he was looking like he could remember everything but was purposefully making things up. your chest felt light seeing it.

"remember how you told me your entire class depended on you to win the class board contest? how, like, they will literally kill you if you mess up?" he exclaimed.

you furrowed your brows in exaggerated horror, placing a hand on your chest and leaning back slightly to further state your surprise. "i never said that!"

"you never?"

"no!"

"was it just me?" felix questioned himself with a scratch of his head, taking shallow breathes of thoughts as he turned away to look around the classroom he once studied in. taking notice of a familiar corner, he raised his hand and pointed at the broken end of the door. "oh, they painted over the wall jisung scrubbed on."

you looked over instinctively and pouted.

of course they would. jisung had written profanities on that corner, after all. you weren't sure why he had done it then, but you remembered watching him get dragged by the ear to the principal's office and grimacing when you met eyes with him. who would have thought he became such an introverted and well-behaved boy now?

"i'm sure they changed a lot of things around these years," you said quietly as you walked through the narrow rows of the wooden desks.

the words jisung left on the wall, the rack of art supplies hyunjin always kept on the top cabinet shelf where the homework was stored, seungmin's neat handwriting being the first thing everyone sees on the blackboard whenever they walk into the classroom, and felix's school jacket he always dumped near the locker for easier access.

they were all gone. the presence of your youth has been erased.

"it has been a while since we came back," you finished off when you came across your old seat and you sat down.

it has been a while since you both came back to your high school, and it has been a while since you two went separate ways to pursue your careers. nothing physical has changed in these classrooms, but they no longer hold the scent of your old friends or the sights of your old classmates.

other people study here now, these classrooms are a foreign home now. as much as that irked you, you had to accept growing up.

felix pulled up the chair in front of you—the desk that belonged to him—and sat down facing the back of the chair. he propped his arms on the top rail and leaned his chin on his intertwined hands, staring at you.

the golden sun glossed over your faces, reflecting a younger light that made you gasp as it deceived your eyes with a newfound nostalgia, manually turning the gears in your head to make you see what you haven't seen in a long time.

felix's hair was black—black, short, and messy. you used to run your hands through them, especially when he was pouting from having trouble with finishing his literature homework. the teacher was the worst, he got unlucky to be stuck with them for a full year. it was thanks to your help, and the longevity of the lunch breaks, that he managed to survive.

instead of the turtleneck and coat, he wore the loose tie he never learned to properly tighten and his wrinkled uniform. his shirt was untucked because he couldn't be bothered. he would eventually fix it up, though, because he was scared of the discipline teacher. but, this was between him and himself only, compared to the discipline teacher he was more scared of you scolding him about his untidy uniform.

(funnily, there was nothing more he would purposefully chase after than your gentle nags back in the days.)

the freckles across his cheeks would be less visible. hyunjin used to have to cover it up for him because he wasn't confident about the way they looked on his face, but you remembered—you remembered how he had told you he loved it when you counted them, touched them, and kissed them as you sat on his lap.

he had told you he loved it.

he had told you he loved you back in high school, and you had said it back.

you remembered. under this blazing sun, the sun that never changed, the sun that only showed you the truth and what you secretly longed for, you remembered that you and felix were once in love.

"ah, this really brings back old memories," felix sighed dramatically with a smile. "we used to talk like this a lot. i remember being so uncomfortable sitting like this, but i wanted to talk to you so i kept sitting like this until the bell rings."

"what?" you scoffed, leaning back on your seat and raising a brow. "you should have just told me."

"i didn't want the ruin the flow of our conversations!" he said, then he propped his face on his fists like a flower. "besides, i used to think i look cool sitting like this, so i always sat like this when we chatted."

you gave him a faint eye-roll. you thought it was lame now, but back then having him turn as soon as the lunch bell rings and hearing your classmates coo teasingly at you two was the one thing you looked forward to in school, that was besides seeing felix, of course.

"well, it worked, didn't it?" you said. "you snatched me."

"i totally did." he laughed.

both of you didn't want to verbally acknowledge the fact that you two had been so madly in love back then that you would rather let silence fall over. it would have been awkward to talk about it after so long, even though you two had been very mature about the break-up and remained as loose friends afterward.

in an attempt to break the silence, you kicked your feet, reached out, and playfully ruffled his hair. felix was taken back by your sudden movement, his eyes widening in panic that you were messing up his hair as his hand immediately flew from his pocket to stop you.

"hey! i spent a long time on this ponytail!" he complained, frowning at your loud giggles at his misery.

"i'm sorry! it's just–" your eyes caught sight of a single run sitting on his fourth finger and you paused. there was a gentle pang in your chest as you tore your eyes away.

regaining your senses quickly, you removed your hand from his hair and sat back down, then you nudged your head over at his hand. "i see you got a promise ring there?"

felix hummed questioningly. he looked up at his hand, still trying to recover from the initial shock of your action, and he sighed with recognition when he realized what you meant. a smile blossomed over his face, a smile so bright and familiar that it made all your forbidden hope dissipate into the hole of your heart.

"yeah, i have a girlfriend," he said, wiggling his fingers. "we have been dating for a year now. i got it for our anniversary!"

you kept the smile on your face. you had gotten over the break-up a long time ago, but when the reality of moving on slapped you across the face like this, your heart churned in distaste anyway. felix was no longer yours, and you were not his—you accept that, you were just a tad bit upset.

"that's good! i'm still waiting for this boy to confess," you muttered with a glare of your eyes as you shifted on your seat. seeing the curious glint in felix's eyes, your thoughts swirled and suddenly your fondness for him faded to the back of your head. you sighed with a defeated smile at the new name in your head. "there is this boy at work–new guy, just a little younger than me–yang jeongin. he is so, so shy."

"i thought you don't like boys younger than you."

"he's an exception."

felix rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "alright. just don't scare him off, you can be intimidating. remember that time when a junior tried to ask you out and he chickened out the last minute–"

"uh, that was because i was dating you back then."

"no, he said it was because you looked like–"

"i know what he said, shut up!" you kicked him under the desk, bubbling a burst of laughter out of him as he stumbled.

after adjusting his position, felix patted his head to fix his hair before he crossed his arms and propped it on the top rail again. he looked at you seriously this time, but his eyes were caring and lovely. after all this time, he looked at you the same way—always, and you loved it all the same.

"does he treat you well?" he asked.

you pursed your lips into a thin smile and nodded. "mhm."

"good."

you glanced at him, wanting to ask your fair share of questions. is he happy? is he loved? is he being held? are his freckles being kissed, or is his hair being combed? is he nagged to take a rest, told that he is pretty? you kept your mouth shut.

the sun was setting into the mountains and the day was changing. the youthful light faded that your current-self once again resurfaced to sight, but just before the last trace of the sun died out in your classroom, you two gazed at each other, and it all went back to the wrinkled uniforms, the tousled hair, the old textbooks, and the shy intertwined hands.

back when felix was the only boy you kept in your heart.

the sun set, the light of his promise ring reflected in your eyes, and you felt a drop in your stomach that you ignored.

"i'm gonna go back and make sure jisung isn't causing a ruckus in the hall," you said as you stood up. "you coming back? dinner is about to start."

felix looked up at you and shook his head. "not yet, you can go first."

you shrugged and left the room with no questions asked. felix returned to the front when you left and he sighed at the worn-out desk before him.

he refused to think about the fluttering feeling in his tummy when you ruffled his hair and when he saw the younger version of you seated in front of him, but he knew for a moment there when he felt it, it was kind and warm, and he knew he missed it somehow.

he missed you, he used to, the only person he had kept in his heart.

tapping his finger, felix rolled his eyes.

"yang jeongin," he clicked his tongue, "pff." and he scoffed.

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

Text

Blank Out - Ch. 2 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[ Masterlist ]

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names–amends he needs to make. When he gets to yours, he finds the amends process a bit more…difficult than it should be.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,550-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› I’ve decided that this story calls for alternating perspectives. Also, lemme know what you think about how this explores post-End Game life.

"You know Bucky Barnes?!"

Rocio was upon you before you had even fully entered the dining room. Despite the fact that it was probably cutting off her circulation, the eight year old was still proudly wearing her "Soldier Arm". You were surprised she could even put it on anymore, a thought that brought on the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia. When the two of you had constructed the costume four years ago, you had needed to roll the ends of the glove up and then safety pin it to the top of Rocio's sleeve to keep it from sliding off. Now it didn't even reach her shoulder anymore.

"I never mentioned that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" Rocio exclaimed

"Oh," you shrugged, rounding the table and passing by a wiggling Ravi in his booster seat.

Rocio fell into step behind you letting out an indignant and frustrated sound. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

She had an amazing and irritating talent for both shouting and whining at the same time. You breathed out your annoyance through her nose.

"Rocio," you said, flatly. "Do you really think I know Bucky Barnes and kept it a secret from you?"

The little girl pouted for a second as she thought it over before slowly shaking her head. "You're not very good at keeping secrets."

"Hey," you pointed a finger at her. "I never told anyone about your crush on Spider-Man did I?"

"I was six!"

"And yet, old enough to propose," you grinned, remembering finding the letter Rocio had addressed to Spider-Man with haphazardly spaced and sized letters. It had taken a few attempts to decipher some of the spelling, but it had proven excellent material to tease Rocio about for the past two years.

Your niece scowled at you and marched back to the table, dramatically throwing herself back into her chair.

You turned back to the stove and the probably cold eggs, smiling to yourself in victory. It was a brief moment of peace as you dished eggs onto three plates because the moment you popped the first one in the microwave, the interrogation started back up.

"Well, if you don't know him, why was he here?"

"He wanted to talk to me and your mom," you said, watching the eggs spin round and round.

"About what?"

"The weather."

"Y/N!" Rocio hit her hand against the table, causing Ravi to jump in his seat and stare at his sister with wide eyes.

You whirled on your niece. "Rocio Ishani, you know better."

"Sorry," Rocio mumbled, casting her eyes down to the table--one of her tells of genuine embarrassment and regret. The microwave beeped, and you sighed, switching the plate out for another one.

"I don't know what he wants to have a conversation about. He was here for three minutes and you did most of the talking. And even if I did know," you added on, stopping Rocio before words could come out of the little girl's open mouth. "I don't think it's a child friendly conversation. Which means when he comes, you're going to your room."

"He's coming back?"

You nodded. "When your mom comes to pick you up," you said, stopping the eggs with six seconds left on the clock. You took the two plates to the table, setting the hot one down in front of your seat and the warm one in front of Rocio. You raised your eyebrows at your niece, gesturing with your head to the kitchen before turning back to get Ravi's plate. Rocio trailed you in, pulling out the silverware drawer to get forks for the three of you and tearing off three paper towels as napkins. She still hadn't quite grasped that Ravi wouldn't be using a napkin however much he needed one. Instead, she ripped one half sheet into a quarter, as if that would convince him to use it in the same way that the small bright green fork convinced him to be somewhat civilized in his eating instead of using his hands.

It was a few more minutes before you were all at the table, ready to eat.

"Your arm, please," you said, gesturing to Rocio's glove. The little girl put up no fight, shimmying out of it and lightly laying it on the empty chair next to her, signature side up so she could admire it all of breakfast.

While the interrogation seemed to be over, talk of the Avengers was not. Most of the breakfast conversation revolved around ranking the Avengers from most powerful to least powerful, and most helpful to least helpful, and the ever ambiguous "best" to "worst." And then, as it did with young kids, talk bounced from subject to subject--connected only by the vaguest semblance of eight year old logic. It ended with a request to watch Wild Kratts after breakfast.

You did.

You did a lot of other things after breakfast too.

You made and played with play dough and stopped when you noticed Ravi was alternating between building with his and eating it.

You each drew pictures for Lilly with varying degrees of realism, had a fashion show turned impromptu dance party, and played hide and seek during Ravi's nap. (Rocio was such a good hider that you hadn't found her until after Ravi woke up, and you were definitely looking very hard and not reading a book.)

You painted each other's nails, and built an epic race car track for Ravi and made individual pizzas.

You raked leaves outside and picked a few favorites to press in books and even found time to fit in a small hurt self/strong self activity before Lilly arrived.

You were in the middle of deconstructing eating your creations when the front door opened.

"Where is my family?"

You looked up with a smile and gestured towards the door, but Rocio remained put. "We're in here!" she shouted, fingers sticky with peanut butter and fluff.

Lilly sauntered into the room, her emerald green suit still pressed and wrinkleless despite a day on the job. She arched her perfectly threaded eyebrows as she looked at you and daughter and the table all covered in graham cracker crumbs. "Looks like you three had a good day."

"Yep!" Rocio chirped, and Lilly clicked forward and into the corner of the room where Ravi was playing with his two cars on a section of the track.

"How is it my two year old is the least messy of the three of you?" she asked, bending over to press a kiss to Ravi's head. He squirmed away, continuing to move his cars along the track.

You laughed as Rocio licked a finger clean of peanut butter. "Because Ravi takes after you, and Rocio takes after me," you said, grinning at Rocio. Lilly frowned and crossed back over to the girls. "Don't worry though, I think we're all adventured out, so tomorrow we're just going to sit and stare at the walls."

"No!" Rocio shouted, and Lilly hushed her.

You tilted your head as if thinking. "I guess we could wash my car," you said, tapping your chin with a finger. "And the baseboards do need some dusting."

Rocio let out a dramatic groan, and you laughed, picking up a napkin to rub away at the spot of marshmallow fluff on her chin.

"Well, if you're not going to clean my house, you can at least clean your hands."

Rocio gave you a look of exasperation that she should have been much too young to even think about giving. Nevertheless, she slid out of her chair and headed to the sink, Lilly stopping her en route so she could press a kiss to the top of her daughter's head.

"How was work?" you asked as Lilly sunk into Rocio's vacated chair.

"People are idiots," Lilly rolled her eyes, giving a sigh.

"Says the literal genius," you returned, and Lilly snorted, shaking her head.

"It doesn't take a genius to follow simple instructions. I'll lay everything out for them, and even with pictures, they can't complete a single build without running into some potentially catastrophic error."

"That's not what you want to hear from the lead engineer at Stark Energy."

Rocio skipped back to the table, and Lilly scooched out her chair, gesturing for Rocio to come sit on her lap. The little girl veered off early though, instead attempting to climb into your lap. You shook her head, casting a quick glance at your sister who dropped her open arms.

"Your mom's missed you," you said, gesturing with her head across the table.

"I live with her," Rocio whined.

"And?" Lilly asked, moving her chair back up to the table. "I still miss you when I work."

"Really?" Rocio asked, walking over to the chair next to Lilly, and claiming it.

"Really," Lilly assured, placing an arm on the back of Rocio's chair, gently combing through her daughter's hair with her fingers. She looked up at you offering a small, weak smile before looking back down at her daughter. Her brow creased. "What are you sitting on?" she asked, tugging at something underneath Rocio. The little girl joined her mom in looking down, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the object.

"My Soldier Arm! Oh yeah! Guess who we met today!"

"Who?" Lilly asked.

"No, guess!"

You would have to teach your niece about the art of not playing a guessing game after making the answer so obvious. Then again, it still seemed so surreal that Bucky Barnes would turn up at your doorstep, that even with the "Soldier Arm", you doubted that Lilly would guess.

Lilly pursed her lips, putting on a show of thought. "Was it--"

There was a knock at the front door interrupting Lilly's guess. Rocio practically launched herself from the chair, already halfway out of the room by the time she could scream "I'll get it!"

"No!" Ravi shouted. His usual reaction when Rocio was too loud, too energetic, too Rocio.

Lilly exhaled a laugh at her son before turning back to you. "This was too much sugar," she said, circling a finger around Rocio's half-eaten creation. You laughed and Lilly smiled, and it felt nice for things to be normal between you--easy. Even if it was just for a moment.

A moment that was brought to a screeching halt by Rocio dragging Bucky Barnes into the combined kitchen and dining room by the hand.

"We met Bucky Barnes!" she chirped.

Lilly's face went slack, only managing to get out a small "Holy shit." Your eyes didn't linger long on your sister though. Instead your gaze was drawn to Bucky Barnes who looked vaguely amused at Rocio.

"Rocio, release your captive," you prompted, and reluctantly, Rocio released his hand, taking a few steps back towards her mother to give him some space.

"Is this--are you--what is happening here?" Lilly asked, looking between Bucky and you and Rocio, as if one of you had a reasonable explanation for this.You had only ever seen your sister this flustered twice before. Both of the previous occasions had been heartbreaking and traumatic, and you'd never quite gotten to experience how funny flustered Lilly was.

"He wants to talk to you and Y/N about something!" Rocio filled in.

Lilly's head whipped to you. "You know him?" she whispered, as if this was some secret conversation for your ears only.

You shook her head. "No, he just came by this morning and asked to speak with us."

"About what?" Lilly asked, furrowing her eyebrows and looking back to Bucky.

"I don't know."

For all of the differences between Lilly and Rocio--and there were many--their brain processing was eerily similar.

Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. "I um--I don't know if you want--" he gestured to Rocio. "Here for this."

"Rocio, go to your ro--the playroom," you corrected.

"I promise I'll be quiet if you let me--" Rocio started, and Lilly cut her off.

"Rocio, take your brother and go up to the playroom please,"

"But--" Rocio's face melted into the start of a complaint, but there a sharp cut of her mother's eyes stopped her dead. You remembered being on the receiving end of that look quite a few times while she was growing up. If anything it'd grown in power.

Rocio stomped forward, taking Ravi by the hand who whined and complained until she let him pick up a few cars to take with him, and the two exited the room, heavy footsteps echoing up the staircase.

You turned back to Bucky who was staring over Lilly's head, at the wall of family pictures.

The idea had hit you four years ago after Rocio woke up crying from a nightmare. Together, you spent the night going through old photo albums and Facebook albums, searching for the best pictures of the family. You ended the night with about forty pictures that needed to be framed, and the whole project took about a week to finish.

Every time the two of you ate lunch together over the past four years, Rocio would choose a picture, and you would tell her the story behind the picture. Your eyes flitted amongst them now.

There was the first time Lilly held you as a baby which was also the first time you smiled. Lilly's high school graduation--one of the few pictures with both of your parents in it, hovering on either side of Lilly as a six year old you sat on her hip. Lilly and Hector's beautiful wedding day. Lilly and Hector at your high school graduation. Lilly and you at the baby shower for Rocio, and Lilly and Hector at the shower for Ravi. There was one of Rocio's grandparents meeting her for the first time, and a good number of photos documenting your visits out to the family. Before the blip.

During your four years together, you and Rocio had also taken pictures of memories the family couldn't be there for and hung them on the wall; reminders of stories to tell should they ever return.

Rocio and you moving into a new house.

Rocio's first day of Kindergarten, first, and second grade.

The two of you and Rocio's ill-fated hamster, Churro.

Birthday parties and day trips that the rest of the family should have attended.

Bucky stared at the pictures, his frown deepening.

"Would you like to sit?" Lilly invited, allowing her collected professional persona to seep into her voice and straighten her spine.

The super soldier nodded, choosing the chair at the end of the table, closest to the door. He wet his lips, his eyes drawn from the pictures and down to the wooden table. It was strange seeing an Avenger--someone who had fought Thanos--seem so nervous in the company of two ordinary women.

He reminded you of the fourth graders who entered your office.

The fourth graders were always so hesitant to work with you--terrified of opening up and showing even a glimpse of vulnerability. It took three sessions just to get them to admit that they weren't fine and a few more before they lost the skittish look in their eyes. You doubted Bucky would be pried open by bags of chips or any of her fidgets, but figured you could at least try.

"Can I get you something to drink?" you asked, and Bucky shook his head.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time."

You nodded, and Lilly cocked her head. "So what brings an Avenger to my sister's house?"

He wet his lips and then looked up at the pair of you. "You're part of my efforts to make amends." Bucky made an attempt at a smile.

Across the table, Lilly's chest constricted with barely suppressed laughter, and the corners of your lips twitched in and out of a smile. Whoever had advised him to smile, surely hadn't meant for him to smile like that.

"What are you here to make amends for?" Lilly asked, her voice steady and betraying none of her amusement.

"I…" his eyes drifted back to the wall of pictures looming beside the group. "I'm the one responsible for your parents death."

You felt the world stop.

Or maybe it wasn't the world, maybe you stopped. Maybe every single atom within you stilled for a moment. Maybe your brain shut down and heart paused its beating, keeping you from thinking or feeling anything other than the numbness of shock. Because as surprising as it was for Bucky Barnes to show up on your doorstep at ten in the morning, you never expected he was responsible for changing your entire life.

"I know there's nothing, I could ever do to truly make amends--"

"You don't need to make amends."

Everything seemed to restart then. Your heart picked up its beating and brain whirred into action, sifting through memories and thoughts you'd long ago pushed to the back of your mind and locked there to remain untouched even by years of therapy.

Your skin prickled with flashes of images. The dark figure at the top of the staircase, the glint of metal you'd assumed was a gun in his hand, the cold blankness of his stare as his eyes bore into yours. And then the horror and sick relief of finding your parents in the moments after his disappearance.

"They were horrible people, and I'm glad they're dead. Thank you for salvaging my childhood"

"Y/N," Lilly gasped, horrified.

"You hated them too," you argued back. "Don't pretend you're not glad that Rocio and Ravi never have to meet them."

"Our relationship with our parents aside, they were still our parents. The least we can do is not thank the man who murdered them in their sleep."

Bucky for his part looked completely bewildered as his eyes darted between the two arguing sisters.

You shook your head. "You were more of a parent to me than they ever were."

"And it's because of that that I remember you waking up screaming every night for three years. So if you're not going to ask for amends for our parents' murder, at least ask for amends for what you had to go through because of him."

"My nightmares aren't because of him," you dismissed. Lilly would never believe--let alone understand--the reason behind your nightmares.

Seeing the argument was fruitless, Lilly tsked and dismissed you with a flip of her hair, turning instead to address Bucky. "Why?"

"Why…" Bucky stumbled along, confused by the conversational whiplash or the vague question.

"Why did you kill our parents?" Lilly demanded.

"Does it matter?" you asked.

"It matters to me."

You stared at your sister for a solid thirty seconds before, and shutting your eyes and bowing your head in surrender. Lilly didn't understand. If you had it your way, Lilly would never understand. You would never burden your sister like that.

Bucky swallowed hard. "I wasn't told the specifics of every...assignment. All I know is that your parents were working on something HYDRA wanted, and when they were offered a chance to join the cause, they declined. I was tasked with eliyoution and retrieval."

"Retrieval?" Lilly pressed

"Of their research."

Lilly gave him a single nod before looking down at the table in front of her. "I didn't even know they were conducting their own research."

You felt her skin prickle, an icy hot sensation shooting through your veins. Carefully calm, you reached across the table, palms open for your sister's hands. Lilly placed her hands into yours. "They never let us get to know them," you said gently, squeezing Lilly's hands. "That's why I'm angry and you're hurt."

Even as you said this, you could feel Bucky's gaze on you, intently studying your motions and facial expressions.

You looked back at him. "Thank you for coming to tell us. I'm sure it wasn't easy."

He nodded, his brow still slightly creased as he looked at her. And then his gaze flicked to Lilly, and you released a breath.

"I know it doesn't mean much--it doesn't change anything, but I'm not the person who did that anymore. I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James "Bucky" Barnes."

Lilly nodded, releasing your hands and looking Bucky square in the face. Her own expression was completely neutral, not a trace of a tear or any of the hurt she'd voiced.

"If you want to make amends, you should come here for Thanksgiving."

Neither you nor Bucky had been expecting that. Your instinctive reaction was to snort out a laugh as if it were a joke, and Bucky looked like the very dictionary definition of confusion: brow knitted together, eyes narrowed, mouth hanging open.

"It would mean the world to my daughter. You can think about it as replacing a memory of my daughter meeting her grandparents. you's right, this will probably be a happier memory anyway."

"You have to come!" Rocio rushed into the room, you and Lilly shouting her name in a mixture of surprise, horror, and reprimand. The eight year old made no excuses or explanations. Instead she stood by Bucky's chair, peering up at him with a bright intensity only a child could muster. "Please."

Bucky looked away from Rocio to Lilly and then you. "Ok."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #tfatws #fatws #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws fic #tfatws fic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfiction #post-end game #james buchanan barnes #marvel #avengers #marvel fic #avengers fic

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sxvxrxssnape · 4 years

Text

severus' sixty-first birthday

- minerva sends severus a birthday card every year and though she doesn't sign it or return address it, he knows they're from her. they worked together for years, he recognizes her handwriting

- he's not entirely sure how she found his address but maybe owls are just that good at tracking people. still, she never asks to see him or mentions how the rest of the wizarding world has long thought he's dead

- at this point, he opens his kitchen window in the morning and watches the sun peaking over the horizon as it starts to rise, sipping on his coffee, as he waits for the letter to arrive

- he'll read through it, smiling softly (though he wonders about the part where she mentions a gift on the way. shes never sent anything more than a card) before tucking the card away with all the others. he'll get dressed then and then walk into town. it's a quiet place where he's chosen to live and he's made friendly with a number of people and sometimes he misses the vibrancy of the wizarding world and the comaderie of being a hogwarts professor but that atmosphere had long fizzled out and going back would never truly mean going back. he's moved on and he's fine with that

- he prefers early morning to get the shopping done. it's less crowded and the world feels untouched, pure and magical, at this hour. he'll stop at the local bakery, buy himself a pastry and another cup of coffee, savoring sweet almond and blueberry, before continuing to the grocery store and picking up the few things he needs for tonight's dinner

- its his 61st birthday today and though he doesn't want to make a big deal out of his birthday, he's learned that it's okay to celebrate your own existence and indulge in the things that make him happy

- as it stands, a well made shepherds pie with good bread and red wine would make him very happy today

- his grocery tote is charmed to keep cool and feather light, so after gathering what he needs he'll head to the bookshop. this is one of his favorite activities and absolutely not reserved for his birthday. his favorite bookshop is old and quaint, hosting strange books with mysterious origins. a lot of the locals think its all false but severus has a trained eye and can recognize magical tombs when he sees them. the first time he came, he cleared out any that could be considered dangerous to muggles. now he likes to browse through the remains and pick up a new read or two; they're not all magical but they are all interesting. the shopkeeper is a very old woman who looks very out of place in this millennium, but he supposes he does too some days

- she wishes him a happy birthday, eyeing his black coat with a certain kind of scrutiny he's gotten used to from her. he was never able to give up his long coats and now he wears them unbuttoned over black turtlenecks. it makes him look less imposing, he supposes, although enough people have asked what he teaches that it sets him on edge

- he doesn't remember when she learned his birthday, but he pays it no mind. a few of the people he's come across here have learned his birthday by now. its the reason he'll get a free scoop of ice cream on his way home. she always looks at him like he's familiar but just can't place how, and part of him worries she's going barmy and starting to forget he's been coming here for years

- as he's paying for the two new books he's found, she says something that feels like its meant to be a warning but feels more like a threat: the aurors are in town today

- "pardon?" he asks, but she just smiles sweetly and waves him off like nothing was amiss, as if his blood hadn't just turned to ice beneath his skin

- he leaves the shop numbly, thinking it over. she couldnt have meant anything serious by it, although now he's kicking himself for not realizing she was a witch (or perhaps a squib?) he kept up with the wizarding world fairly regularly when he'd first disappeared. he knew potter had cleared his name posthumously and that he was hailed a hero, so whatever the reason for the aurors being in town, it has nothing to do with him. he decides to carry on as normal; too many years have passed for him to be known by this new generation of aurors.

- he does get his free ice cream, a scoop of vanilla caramel with a drizzle of chocolate, and he's sitting in a wrought iron chair outside the shop, under a carefully cast warming charm to keep him comfortable in the january air but with a cooling charm cast over his frozen treat, when he sees them

- there's two of them, fairly young and most likely born during the second war. they're dressed in the muggle version of their uniform he's come to recognize and watches them from his peripheral as they head down the street and wonders what they could be in town for

- he doesn't notice the third, older auror watching him with widening eyes, no longer paranoid enough to check who's standing behind him, as he swirls his spoon through the remnants of melted ice cream and gets lost in his thoughts

- he heads home after that, lights a fire, and makes a tomato and cheese sandwich for lunch. he catches up on a few episodes of his current favorite show (a historical drama this time) and enjoys his quiet afternoon

- when its time to start on dinner, he'll put something on the record player (he's got a soft spot for the record player alright, he's aware of what spotify is, he just enjoys the nostalgia of vinyl), and get to work. he's got a glass of wine and he's singing along to pearl jam as he cuts carrots and potatoes

- he grows wild thyme and rosemary in the front yard, right next to the white chrysanthemums, so he puts his spoon down and goes to fetch some

- he doesn't expect to find potter standing just outside the gate with a pink bakery box in his hands looking simultaneously like a deer in the headlights and like he's just seen a ghost. which he supposes he has

- he ignores him in favor of picking the herbs. once he's done, he glances once in the direction of harry potter before returning inside. he leaves the door open and waits. it isn't until the herbs are washed and finely chopped, being stirred into the stew, that potter finally enters the kitchen. he holds the box tightly and blurts out "i thought you were dead"

- "evidently not." severus responds, spooning the mix into a baking dish and begins to top it with the mashed potatoes. "how did you find me?"

- he mutters some nonsense of working a case involving a local store selling magical wares to muggles (and severus frowns at this information, worried it might be imelda) and seeing him outside the ice cream shop. getting his address wasn't that hard and the cake he brought was simply a social nicety

- perhaps he hasn't been a professor for years now but he can still smell bullshit so he raises an eyebrow at the answer he's gotten. potter has grown in the years since he's seen him, no longer a strong-willed seventeen year old but now a tired looking auror of forty who's still just as bad at lying as he ever was. he thinks how he was around his age when they last spoke and that fact feels a little dizzying

- "you dont seem that surprised." severus muses, putting the pie in the oven and bringing down another glass. he has a feeling potter will be staying and the idea is already giving him headache. he thinks back to minervas letter and wonders if this is what she meant. perhaps its time to finally write back, he thinks, as he pours them each some wine; they have a lot to talk about it seems

#this was meant to be a plotless one shot but i never found the time to write it so have the bullet point version instead #snapedom #pro snape #severus snape #snape lives #current snape #harry potter #minerva mcgonagall

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polpoka · 3 years

Text

Neighbor Au

Characters- Kim Rok Soo, Alberu Crossman, Lee Soo Hyuk, Choi Jung Soo, Tasha

Ratings- K+

Shippings- Kimrokberu

Type- (Fluff)

Part 5

((CW. mentioned racism))

The tray made a harsh clink as Alberu set it in front of Taerang, who was sitting on the lignum vitae chair, on the coffee table which formed a complete set with the said chair.

“So, sir, in the end,” Taerang took a pause to sip on the tea the host had provided, though he was the junior, “Did you tell him your name?”

Alberu averted his eyes, before answering in a low voice, “...Yes.”

Taerang sighed. He cared about his employer a lot, especially because of the fact that they had known each other for quite some time, and in that time, he had come to realize rather early on, that Alberu was rather soft on the inside, despite his harsh mannerisms and stern appearance. He cared far too deeply for people and always hesitated to let a connection go. It would be bad in their line of work, but well, sometimes it was necessary.

He remembered the way the younger college student had always shook his hand rather than barking at him and treating him like a meagre guard. Even though he was one, who had been given to him as a present for his achievements by his former ‘owner’, Angelica and right before Choi Jung Gun, and before that his guardian, Ahn Mon Ran.

He was always viewed as a tool, almost always at least, Ahn Mon Ran had no other option but to give him to Choi Jung Gun because of the hand the man had on him.

He asked once again, “Did you say anything that even remotely points out the fact that made the person think that you’re part of the elite Crossman family, and not your average joe?”

Alberu still didn’t meet Taerang’s eyes. Taerang knew what that meant and unfortunately Alberu did too.

Alberu struggled to meet Taerang’s eyes, “I’m sorry, hyung-”

“Don’t call me that right now, sir. You know you’re in trouble. Big time.”

Taerang took a sip of his lavender tea which had been poured til the brim of the teacup, “You were the one who originally asked for these rules to be made, and we can’t break them, since you specifically gave us instructions not to. No matter what you say at the time.”

Taerang looked at the man who was fidgeting anxiously. He knew why these rules were a safety precaution, and he didn’t want Alberu to go through that experience again. Well, technically speaking, he wasn’t there but he was told the story, and he didn’t like it either way, not one bit.

Alberu also knew the reasons, and the repercussions, and yet it felt horrible. He knew why this had happened, and he didn’t want it to happen again but still. He looked at the table silently for a moment, thinking about the various possibilities which seemed to end with his heartbreak.

Kim Rok Soo didn’t seem like the guy who would take advantage of him, he just didn’t. Not to mention, the connection- the connection felt as if he was a gust of wind that had finally found his tree, but he knew that in the end, this was the best move he could play. If he stayed, he had no idea what to do.

Would he confront Kim Rok Soo?

Would he pretend never to see him again, despite knowing that his heart longed for the other?

That would just be running away, but Alberu wasn’t even sure what Kim Rok Soo would want. He thought that Kim Rok Soo was free, and that he, a caged bird could never compare, even if he liquidised all his assets he couldn’t compare with that man, and so, he might as well not trouble the other.

Alberu was determined, yet this time he felt like he couldn’t win. A feeling he hadn’t felt for a long time. It reminded him of the time he had to deal with his dad, and those were memories he would rather not recall, but he was sure a broken person like him didn’t deserve Kim Rok Soo.

After this short exchange with himself, he looked at Taerang, his eyes looked soulless, and his voice was brittle as he spoke, “So let’s go through with it.”

Taerang felt something inside of him break, he couldn’t do anything but agree, “...Yes, let’s go through, sir.”

Alberu took a short sip of the liquid that had been sitting in front of him untouched, “Ah look, it’s gone cold.”

***

Kim Rok Soo’s apartment was in an overly pristine condition, despite it normally being clean, Choi Jung Soo could tell that he had cleaned the place intensely a couple of hours earlier. The yellow evening lights had been switched on a few hours ago and the three men were sitting on the floor on a neatly maintained rug, with more than an average number of bottles that three men should consume in a single night being kept on the table. It seemed that they had all acknowledged that the only function of the table right now was to act as storage.

“Rok Soo-ya?” Choi Jung Soo asked, waving his hand over the other’s face.

“Ah,” Kim Rok Soo blinked, adjusting his eyes to the light, before replying to the call of this man, “Yes?”

Choi Jung Soo took a seat next to him and could easily notice a couple of things that were odd off the bat. For example, the eyebags were deeper, he wasn’t paying attention at all, which even when separated from these discrepancies was odd. Not to mention he was drinking a lot, almost as if he was trying to get drunk. Even though Choi Jung Soo knew that Kim Rok Soo was aware of his own tolerance, which was inhumanly high, something must have happened and it was definitely not a good thing, seeing as the way Kim Rok Soo looked and acted.

Choi Jung Soo patted the other’s head gently, you could hear the tease in his tone, “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t really want to talk about it…Could you pour another one?” the other responded with a burnt out tone, letting the hand rest there.

‘I guess it didn’t go well.’ Choi Jung Soo poured another cup for himself, using the nearest half filled bottle, before filling Kim Rok Soo’s cup.

Lee Soo Hyuk on the other hand, was drinking a little too much than what a forty year old liver could take. He’d drunk two bottles. Downing them like they’re soup, well not like his dongsaeng hadn’t drunk about three bottles of the same type of strong alcohol in one sitting.

‘Really, the people around me really don’t take care of themselves,’ thought Choi Jung Soo drinking down his seventh cup of scotch. He sighed and looked at Kim Rok Soo, he was sure it was a rejection.

Kim Rok Soo felt like throwing up. He wanted to throw up all his feelings related to his former neighbor. It had only been a day, he wasn’t that close- So it wouldn’t be hard at all, if that was the case, right?

“Who am I kidding, of course not.” he murmured.

“Hmm?” the one beside him asked, “Is something wron-” Before Choi Jung Soo could finish his question, he was tackled with a hug from the one he had presumed to be on the other end of the table.

“Rok Soo yaaaaa~ Don’t worry, these kinds of things will always happen.”

Choi Jung Soo struggled to escape the bear hug he had, without his knowledge, stepped into. “Hyung- Kim Rok Soo is there- There-” he tried to point to the clearly dispirited Kim Rok Soo, failing and being pinned to the floor, while Lee Soo Hyuk fell asleep on him.

Gradually, Choi Jung Soo too, started losing consciousness, albeit something he did not sign up for, and drifting to sleep, while Kim Rok Soo was sitting in the end of the line of drunkards, well two pass outs and one drunk.

Kim Rok Soo shuffled to get the two blankets to cover his hyungs before getting his own to join in on the pile of corpses. He shifted the table a bit, and tucked himself to make the rug a little more comfortable to lie on. He tried to close his eyes, but he simply couldn’t. His mind was haunted by the brunette, and not in a good way. He turned to a couch, which brought back the incident that occured day before yesterday. He shifted once more, this time to look at the faces of his hyungs, this again reminded him of the time they were so excited about the whole soulmate jamboree.

Everything reminded Kim Rok Soo of Alberu, and he didn’t like it. No matter how hard he tried he could simply not forget the man. He had a striking appearance and a discernable mark on his life, despite them knowing each other for a day.

They hadn’t met each other since Kim Rok Soo had moved here, which was 6 years ago. Well, that was partly Kim Rok Soo’s fault for thinking that it was too much work to meet his neighbours, and he just ended it with seeing his then 24-year-old neighbour, who was too busy with his work once.

Now, he regretted his decision. If only he had met him earlier. If only he hadn’t ignored his neighbour. These thoughts were the only ones going through his head that night, as he kept on twisting and turning, before finally finding a comfortable position to sleep in.

***

Alberu got up to an undesired nostalgia of mahogany furniture and neatly lined bookshelves along with the scent of cookies permeating the room. It wasn’t dense but rather a soft scent, being accompanied by a denser scent of black coffee.

What was strange, was the fact that there was no coffee in the vicinity, and he knew his aunt, much like him, leaned towards tea. He was a bit curious about the fragrance but didn’t want to give it much thought as his brain was more preoccupied with other means- Kim Rok Soo.

How would he deal with him?

Alberu was fully aware of what a jerk he was being. He knew that it had been very unfair of him to just straight up leave.

“Aunt Tasha-” he called out to the similar looking black haired woman, her eyes glistened. Her hair was cut short which gave her a gentle look.

“Yes?” she answered with a hum.

“So…” he couldn’t help but fidget in worry, was he allowed to ask such a thing in the first place? He knew fully well that what his aunt was doing was for his best interests, for his sake.

Yet, it bugged him.

He wanted to see the other man desperately.

It nagged at him.

Like a gnawing frostbite that never seemed to go away.

“Speak up, Alberu. You know I’m willing to listen so take your time.”

Alberu looked at her, always supportive of him no matter what he wanted to do. Always watching, and he felt guilty about that.

Alberu gripped his arm, he told himself that he had to remain firm. This was just a simple and easy task, so what was he getting all anxious about?

“I think I found my soulmate,” Alberu blurted out, wanting to get it over with. It made him feel a bit too bizarre, a feeling he didn't enjoy. He thought a little about the man, his calming, and sarcastic attitude. It made him smile lovingly and softly, it was almost invisible.

When he saw Tasha’s eyes, his smile fell apart, she didn’t meet his eyes with the same gaze he did. Her face was instead painted with a base of shock, and another which was an even more unfavourable expression on it; outrage.

One glance is all it took for Tasha to assess the situation. She had already been informed by Taerang about his leaked identity, which in itself had been surprising. Tasha could smell the coffee and cookies off her nephew. She didn’t know how it got there since they had no coffee at home, and she knew her nephew didn’t drink coffee, and buttered chocolate cookies. It would have been plausible if he hadn’t come out of the bedroom.

She knew what this meant, the boy had found his soulmate, but she also knew one thing– you could have problems with your past lover. It was like any relationship, simply adding in the strong connection. It wasn’t that big of a deal as people made it up to be.

After all, her sister had also been in a similar kind of relationship and she easily got replaced. Zed had simply thrown her away when he realized that his soul mark had appeared again. It was plausible that the bad luck might have carried from the mother to the son. Even though deep down, she was sure that wasn’t the case. She was worried, and terribly, terribly protective of her nephew, for he was the only one part of her sister that had remained in the world of the living. Being a soulmate had led to her sister’s heartbreak and eventual death, and perhaps it wouldn’t be as severe in Alberu’s case, but he had suffered enough after his mother’s death, she concluded.

“You found a soulmate?” she asked, her expression now a bit less animated than her previous one, but Alberu could tell that she was not pleased one bit.

He had a rough idea why but he wasn’t all that into the details. He was young when his mother and ‘father’ divorced, and he knew how his mother had committed suicide after a weeks of the unusual event. After that, he knew how his life had spiralled down to. She died without gaining custody of her child because Alberu’s talents had been noteworthy and rather eye-catching and Zed thought the boy would fetch a pretty price as a showpiece.

He wasn’t wrong per se, but the exposure to the life of adults had dimmed his young eyes that had been previously filled with life. He had gotten used to going days without proper food and water, and that he wasn’t allowed anything as an emotional support. He wasn’t allowed to have a weakness, if he wanted to stay with his worth.

He had been locked, neglected, even abused if his scores or position went a bit under than perfect. Well, that was at first, then it escalated to him being the outsider of the ‘family’.

Alberu had noted at the ripe age of eighteen, the people he lived with were hypocrites. In private they would always say the opposite of what they said under the public eye.

‘The shame of this house.’

‘The joy of our family.’

‘You dirty leech. Shouldn’t you be working non-stop? You live here rent free anyway.’

‘He’s always such a darling brother of mine. I simply worry that he works too hard for his own good.’

‘Disgusting. That skin of yours looks so ugly, maybe it’d be better if we got rid of it’

‘He looks so handsome too! He looks just like father, well his skin tone doesn’t matter.’

‘Don’t you get it? You don’t have a place here.’

‘Even though he looks different, he fits right in. Exactly, it's petty to not care about someone who shares the same blood as your sons just because they have a different skin tone.’

They weren’t memories he would want to remember at all, even though they constantly played on his mind like a broken record player. Constantly.

That’s why he trusted his Aunt’s judgement, for she was the only one who had helped him get out of that hellhole. It was her acceptance that Alberu wanted the most.

Alberu nodded, in return to which Tasha’s unamusement became even more apparent with a long sigh. She was very reluctant to entrust her nephew in anyone’s hand, and the thought of him getting used made her boil over with rage, and so she simply cut off the communication between the two, by a few words, “Alberu, I don’t approve.”

***

Kim Rok Soo grumbled at the white noise that was playing on repeat in the background. He could hear the chattering that was going on between the two other men in the house. He laid on the makeshift bed until he heard a ringtone. A particular ringtone which made him sure of the person on the other line.

‘Basen.’

He stretched his hand out to reach his phone, still remaining tucked in his blanket and refusing to move. By the third ring of the phone, he had successfully maneuvered himself in a way that he could stay comfortable and pick up the phone. He finally received it.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end greeted Kim Rok Soo.

Kim Rok Soo, still groggy and voice still unsettled, spoke in a lower tone than his usual. It sounded synonymous to the croak of a frog, “Good morning Basen. What makes you call this early?”

Basen knew that tone belonged to his uncle, and he also knew that this was the tone of voice he had in the morning before he had even gotten up from bed. He’d found out so from the several sleepovers he had with him. Still it was odd to hear his voice this deep. Had his Ahjussi been drinking? “Uncle Rok Soo, how much did you drink last night?”

“Why do you ask?” Kim Rok Soo said, shuffling in the sheets, shifting his movements ever so slightly to stay within the warmth of the blanket that covered him up completely like a cocoon.

“Have you still not gotten up?” Basen asked, his tone a bit shocked.

Kim Rok Soo hummed to give an affirmative response.

Basen sighed, “Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s...” He slurred while reordering his position to face the clock. “Three.”

Basen sighed, his voice then went low as he turned his face away from his phone “Haaaa... What’s that Pen?”

Kim Rok Soo’s ears perked up, “Pen’s there?”

He could hear Basen crack up a bit, “Uncle Rok Soo, you attended the wedding, didn’t you? We’re married, so of course we’re living together.”

Kim Rok Soo relaxed again remembering the joyous event that had taken place a month ago, “Ah, yeah yeah.”

Basen slid the phone between his ear and shoulder, “Uncle, are you still out of it?”

Kim Rok Soo twisted his head, cocking it out of the blanket. “Maybe,” he yawned.

“Rok Soo-ya? You’re finally up?” Kim Rok Soo saw Lee Soo Hyuk standing in front of him.

“Um, yeah.” Kim Rok Soo lazily replied.

“Ah,” Basen said from the other end, “If Lee Soo Hyuk Ahjussi is there, why not give him the phone, and probably freshen up.”

Kim Rok Soo nodded and handed the phone to Lee Soo Hyuk, while informing the other person about his nephew, “It’s Basen, he wants to talk to you.”

Lee Soo Hyuk’s face quirked up to form a grin, “It’s been a long time since he’s talked to me, has he been busy with his lover?”

Kim Rok Soo looked over and casually answered,“Their honeymoon did get over a few weeks earlier. So it is a possibility.”

Lee Soo Hyuk sighed while taking the phone from Kim Rok Soo, “Aiya, I really am getting old. Everyone around me is getting married or starting to date someone. Ah, the woes of an old man.”

He heard an annoyed voice from the far side of the kitchen, “Did you forget that you’ve been with your lover for over 15 years, Mr. old man?”

The mention of Lee Soo Hyuk’s lover made Kim Rok Soo think about his friend, “Ah, I need to talk about the details about the meeting with Beacrox.”

Lee Soo Hyuk turned to him, his head tilted to the right, “He has been talking about that too. Do you have something in mind for the day?”

Kim Rok Soo could feel the headache rushing over him like a tidal wave, “I'll talk later, I need to wash my face and brush.”

“Oh wait, before you go-” Lee Soo Hyuk stopped him, causing Kim Rok Soo to turn, “You kinda smell like aloe vera? I didn’t know you kept any plants here?”

Kim Rok Soo pulled his t-shirt to sniff it, indeed, it smelled like the said succulent. He furrowed his eyebrows. It was odd, but it was too much for his woozy head to think about.

He pulled himself out of the mattress and walked to the bathroom, lazily scratching his hay-like hair. His eyes lazily lolled around, scanning the surroundings of his own apartment as if it was something foreign. He sighed, standing there for a moment facing his reflection in the mirror.

He ran his fingers through the messy strands that gently lay on the shoulder, remembering Alberu’s fingers cold touch. They were hardened and felt like they had been holding a pen their entire life, never wanting to try anything else, though Kim Rok Soo thought that Alberu merely never got the time to engage in hobbies.

‘That’s not how hair gel works, hyung.’

He remembered the annoyed tone the man could endlessly fill his voice with. He splashed some water on his eyes, still wondering where the other had gone. It would be quite foolish to disappear if he were fearing rejection, if that is the reason the dark man had disappeared, he would think of the said man to be quite dense to not recognize Kim Rok Soo’s feelings towards himself.

***

Alberu tried to keep the volume down as he washed the dishes in the empty and eerily huge villa’s secluded kitchen. To be fair, it wasn’t empty, there were servants and Aunt Tasha was lounging in the living room.

His mind was currently occupied with his aunt’s reaction.

He didn’t expect such a strong rejection since he believed his aunt would be a little more liberal towards this aspect.

However, Alberu knew the reason why his aunt was overprotective since he was well aware of what happened to his mother. Sure, he understood why she didn’t want him to date Kim Rok Soo, but she also refused to acknowledge that his soulmate was different than his mother’s and it wasn’t fair to not give him a chance. Or at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Bitten once, twice as shy, I guess.’ He thought, sighing.

He simply wanted to meet Kim Rok Soo, simply wanted to check something, a simple gut feeling.

An instinct.

Normally, he would have ignored it, but it was a sensation that he couldn’t help but dwell upon. It wasn’t gripping, more like a mild fever that had come over him. He thought that it was something that would easily go away and not bother him anymore, yet it stuck persistently, that it can’t help but get noticed no matter how much he tried to look the other way.

It felt real and that scared Alberu.

He didn’t hate the feeling of love.

It was just that, he was so scared of being involved with it, that it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The so-called love he knew was only based on the last sole affection he’s gotten from his mother.

He believed that Kim Rok Soo wouldn’t be the kind of person to ‘love’ him. Alberu wasn’t the type to have gotten everything in his life in a neatly packaged bow, and that included his relationships all the more.

Love? He couldn't trust it nor did he have the guts to risk letting the feeling take over him.

Any relationship he tried to maintain didn’t end on a good note, for numerous reasons. Even though his face wasn’t shown and he had a fake surname, his previous partners always knew he was rich. His arranged marriage partners thought of him as a mere money milking tool or someone who would just settle for just a crumb of bread.

The idea of that appalled Alberu. Somehow he couldn’t think of it in a good light. He didn’t want to be the sort of person who would force someone to be with him just for his money.

If that was the case he was better off without anyone.

But why was it that he couldn’t forget about him?

That man, who had seen him in his most vulnerable state had simply accepted it. Had waved off the thought that he was odd or unbelonging. He had given him the chance to feel these new sets of emotions he thought he would never experience in his lifetime.

Unbeknownst to Alberu, his hands were working fast and intensely out of all the stress. Only when he heard a loud clang was he snapped back to reality. His eyes immediately darted to the cause of the noise, which was a plate that had slipped from his hands and had fallen into the sink.

Alberu stared at it for a bit, sighed and washed it.

It was a good thing it didn’t break.

After neatly placing it in the dryer, he walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in the hall on the coach facing his aunt’s.

She tore her eyes away from the book she was reading to face him. Tasha noticed the lost look in his eyes, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Alberu blinked, turning his gaze away from the table and meeting his aunt’s, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He said, picking up a book lying on the Pacini e Cappellini coffee table to read.

Tasha sighed, sticking a bookmark between her copy of ‘War and Peace’, marking her progress in rereading the classic, “Are you still bothered by it?”

Alberu tried to feign ignorance, “By what?”

“We both know what you’re thinking about.” Tasha knew that he wouldn’t outright address the topic. He was far too self constricted with her for that.

Alberu met her eyes, but still had his eyes glazed over, it was as if he actually had no idea of what his aunt was talking about, “Like I said, what?”

Tasha however, was having none of that, she knew Alberu since he was a baby albeit she was young during those turbulent times. She motioned her hand as if she was pointing to the person in question, “Your soulmate, whoever that may be.”

“Huh.” Alberu mused, making it painfully obvious for Tasha to tell he was unimpressed, “What about my soulmate?”

Tasha, also aware of his current ‘yearnings’ spoke without batting an eye, “You want to meet them.”

“I sure do, but there’s someone who's preventing that, isn’t there?” He said, finally keeping his book down and sending his aunt a glare that was trying very hard not to reveal its true intentions.

Tasha got annoyed at the misconception Alberu had of her. She was doing this for him. How couldn’t he not get it?“ You know that I’m doing this for your sake. Your mother died because–”

“–Of her soulmate.” Alberu completed her sentence. He had heard it for so many times he was sure that was what the next few words entailed. He sighed.

“Aunt,” He said in a chilling voice, he was the closest to his aunt but there was definitely a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Not everything was about his mother. He was well aware how his mother’s death had unfolded but not everyone was like his father, not everyone was as egregious as that man.

“I understand your concerns but do remember.” He paused to take a good look at his aunt, “I am not my mother,” he took another pause “and I never will be.”

Alberu could never be his mother. His mother was pure, and charismatic, not to mention she was the incarnation of beauty itself. Never attempting any foul means, she tried hard. She died protecting him.

And he could never be, not even an inch close to being as great as her. Or so he believed.

Tasha looked the other way, “I know that…but it still scares me. What if they lose interest in you and desert you–”

Alberu sighed again. The next few words he had said out of the simple motivation to prove Tasha wrong about soulmates, and snag a lover in one quick move. “Alright, since you are so bothered by the fact that they’ll cheat on me or lose interest. Let me put forward the idea of a bet. I’ll not visit my soulmate for two months and after those two months, let’s see whether they get over me in that period of time.” ‘–well formally, I won’t be meeting him.’

Alberu thought about it for a moment. He would use himself and Kim Rok Soo as an experiment. He set a bet like that out of impulse to prove her wrong. Even though he wouldn’t mind if he had really moved on, a part of him wanted to know the outcome to all this as well.

If fate would really allow them to be together, or would it be another curse that had befallen since his mother’s time?

Would things be different?

He didn’t know the answer to that. That was why he did this. That was why he made this stupid bet to at least convince himself that it was alright for him to love, or just have believed in his Aunt’s words in the first place.

Alberu was not the type to easily trust people but this time he wanted to try.

He wanted to try and place a bit of his faith on that man.

Tasha, who was also right at the end of her wits from this conversation, agreed in a fit of confusion and annoyance with the flow of the conversation, wanting it to end, “Ok, fine. Let’s do just that. When should we start?”

Alberu asked, also getting riled up, “How about right this second?”

Tasha leaned back, “Alright then. For 2 months which start at 5pm December 8th, 2XXX until 5pm February 8th, 2XXX(+1). Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Ok then. Taerang, write this down.” Tasha crossed her arms together, her eyes still lingering at her nephew who broke eye contact.

“Yes ma’am.” The mostly stationary man, who had been sitting on the chair beside Alberu finally spoke.

‘Now that this was sorted,’ thought Alberu, ‘I have to contact him, I guess. Hoo boy, this is gonna be a whole different game to play.’

#taerang tcf #alberu crosman #alberu #alberu crossman #cale #cale henituse #kim rok soo #tcf krs #tcf #tcf cjs #choi jung soo #tcf lsh #lee soo hyuk #trash of the count's family #tasha tcf #tcf GoD #tcf GoS

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Who Are You Really?

Chapter 4: Rush Hour

Summary:

Huh. Guess Spirit doesn’t have too much time to introspect. That’s okay, though. Introspection doesn’t lead to anything good, and Spirit much prefers action over thought when they start to think too far back.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Ft. Almond, who belongs to @strange-lace

Spirit Masterpost

Spirit is nervous.

Macaque’s token is buzzing.

They don’t know if they should be. They’re nervous for clients, of course, and they’re polite to everyone they meet, but Macaque is...different. They’ve known him longer, longer than most of their clients.

They’ve done so many favors for him, he can’t hurt them. They know that. They know they know that.

They still tremble a little as they reach into their pocket.

Are the favors not enough? They have to be. Spirit has been operating on them for as long as they can remember, likely longer than that. Favors are dependable, favors make sense, they can tally them down and be assured, and know, and can quantify, and

And yet.

Macaque is like Red, but different. Close, but not a friend. Something else. And Spirit shouldn’t be afraid. They’ve done him favors, they’re safe. They’ve done everything he asked, even when it wasn’t good. Because they aren’t stupid, and they know what is and isn’t right. They haven’t been right for a long time maybe ever, but they just want to be safe, and this is how they will be.

They know that. This is how it has to be.

Because if it isn’t, then Spirit would have, and wouldn’t have, and

Spirit doesn’t like to think on the would haves, because they turn into should haves. They should have this, they should have that—none of that is helpful. Wanting more from the past doesn’t change the present.

Besides, they should have what they deserve, and

Spirit grabs the token and goes to where they are needed.

They’re not quite sure where they are, at first, but the cliffside they appear at is just a few miles from the town. They can see the weather tower from where they are. It’s the tallest building in the city, after all.

Macaque’s seeming lack of appearance would be worrying, but Spirit feels the itch that always happens in their eye, the big one, when Macaque is hiding in the dark.

“You test that a lot,” they say. “I haven’t missed you yet.”

They turn around just as Macaque steps out of their shadow. It’s kind of interesting, watching the flat object liquify into what seems like smoke, pulling from the rockface upon which Spirit’s shadow is cast. From shadow to smoke to flesh and bone, the transition seamless.

“I’m your teacher, aren’t I? Who else is going to test you?” He stretches his arms leaning back against the cliff face with his arms crossed over his chest.

Spirit supposes that makes sense. Macaque is their teacher, in the sense that he’s really the only person who has bothered to teach Spirit anything, save for their mom. But Mom isn’t a teacher, she’s Mom, so Macaque is their teacher. It makes sense when you think about it.

“So,” Macaque starts, a claw lazily tugging at Spirit’s sleeve to get their attention. “Got any new information? As a favor,” he adds the last part like he always does, and Spirit perks up like they always do.

A new favor is always so nice.

“Oh, well, the Demon Bull King was released,” they start. “Red Son, Princess Iron Fan, and the Demon Bull King have congregated on the outskirts of Wán Qiãn Chéng, where Monkey King’s successor lives, and they battle him from time to time—”

“Monkey King has a successor?” Macaque all but shouts, loud enough that Spirit takes a step back.

They fidget, and hide their hands behind their back.

“Um, yes?” Spirit shrugs at Macaque’s incredulous look. “He stopped the Demon Bull King when DBK first emerged, and has been protecting the city and, uh, the world since then. He’s a little younger than me, age wise I think.

“I haven’t gotten a good look at him, but he’s friends with the youngest member of the Long family, so he might be aristocratic? I don’t know,” They finish lamely, smiling a little.

Macaque grins. It’s not a nice one, one of his scheming grins he gets when he wants something and is figuring out how to get it. Spirit finds it familiar, considering Macaque always wants something from them, in one way or another. Why he feels the need to scheme is beyond them, because Spirit does most anything if asked politely.

Then again, they were a bit obstinate when Macaque and them first met. They made Macaque work for their favor, which is stupid. They should’ve listened better back then, and Macaque would maybe like them more now.

Most people don’t like them, though, so they suppose they should be used to it.

“Well then,” Macaque starts, rubbing his chin with his hand in thought. “That is something. Thanks kid. I’ll use that.”

Spirit brightens at the praise.

“You’re welcome!” they beam. “Um, anything else, sir?”

Macaque waves a hand. “Nah.”

He turns towards the horizon, and then, for some reason, looks back almost...shy? Spirit doesn’t really understand Macaque’s moods. He can flip flop in terms of good or bad feelings very quickly, with no rhyme nor reason Spirit can discern in regards to why.

They jump, scrambling to catch an item as Macaque just...tosses them a bag of what they soon realize is coins. A fair bit, if the weight is any indication. The bag is purple, with a silver drawstring for the pouch. They love purple and silver! Macaque doesn’t do silver, save for the token he made for them; his cuffs are gold.

They glance up at him in confusion.

“Got tired of carrying that,” Macaque says, looking away from them. “Figured you wouldn’t mind. Buy yourself something with it, or whatever.”

He glances back at them again. Spirit waves.

Macaque jumps off the cliff, and disappears.

Spirit heads back to town, after that, flitting through different shopping centers. They don’t really have a lot of money regularly, but they also don’t spend a lot of money regularly, so they’re typically okay with spending money when they want or need to.

The last thing that was a big purchase was getting their outfit fixed up for the third time. They always wait until the fabric is so worn that they can’t stitch it together to do so, because they try to be frugal, but keeping their one and only outfit in fair condition is a necessity.

Macaque had mentioned the practice, saying that it was how he kept his outfit pristine after centuries. Demons who could weave silk would restring the fabric line by line until it was simply the same but brand new, keeping the old string to be salvaged for whatever they could find within. It wasn’t terribly expensive, but was still a purchase to be saved up for.

They don’t shift into human form, staying in the alleyways where they’re hardly seen and glancing out to the streets to see if there’s anything neat to find instead of walking in the open as a human. Their eyes catch on a shop in the food district, a colorful storefront.

Bitter Sweets.

They can see the colorful creations set up in the window display. Sweets, pastries.

Pastries.

They remember pastries. It was such a rare thing to have. Father was always in the Inn, always toward the front side they’d have to cross to get to the indoor kitchen. They never wanted to cross Father. They knew what would happen.

But it became a game. Find whenever Father is gone, fixing up a room for a new customer, off to the town to find tourists, and sneak into the kitchen. Throw together the ingredients, skipping across the floor to find each and every item needed for the recipe. Mixing the ingredients into dough, kneading it and playing with it as Mother laughed, shaping it into its proper form, placing it in the stone oven and watching, waiting.

And then the dough would rise, and Spirit would lean in so close to watch that Mom would gently tug them back with a soft smile. She would pull out the finished product, and Spirit would tug on her sleeve and say ‘Now?’, and she would smile and shake her head and make them wait until it cooled.

They would pull apart the warm (but not hot!) balls of sticky bread just to see the inside and finally stuff a piece into their mouth, giggling. They’d take the lot and scamper off into safety with Mom, off into the back area where the infirmary was, where father couldn’t reach, the taste of sweetness on their tongue.

Spirit remembers pastries.

Entranced, they cross the street and enter the shop.

The inside is just as warm and bright as the outside, purples and pinks in pastel hues the general color scheme, with cool gray walls and white highlights to accent the colors. There’s a second display case by the front counter, a small table with two chairs off to the side, and a sweet smell of something baking that hits you both with nostalgia and hunger.

Spirit thinks about the last time they’ve eaten, and can’t quite remember. Then again, that’s not too terrible, considering they don’t need to eat regularly.

“Hello, dear!” A voice calls from further inside.

Spirit jumps at the sound, and stares as brown hair, purple skin, and red eyes greet them. The demon is of the spider variety, a cap on her head and smudges of flour and icing on her apron and face.

She has 3 eyes, just like them. But they’re not supposed to have three eyes, so it’s different. She’s allowed to like hers.

She wipes off her hands on her apron and steps up to the counter, a pleasant smile greeting them with her hands on her hips, ready to be of service. “What can I get for you today?”

Spirit stares for a moment.

Right. They have to order something.

“I-uh-um,” They stammer, because they didn't have time to prepare for this, and just a glance at the display case proves that they don’t know what any of the pastries are, nor do they know what the names mean.

And what did they even expect? That this random sweets shop would have the exact type of pastry they remembered making centuries ago with someone who has been gone so long it shouldn’t matter? Those things are lost to time, lost to a world they left behind when there was nothing left but blood and memories. The soft moments are held only by the crumbs left in their head; there’s nothing tangible here. They’re so stupid. So, so, so stupid.

“I can always help you pick something out, if you need help,” the shopkeep says, gentle as Spirit’s anxiety mounts.

No, they can’t ask for help, they’re not allowed to. They can’t do this, they should just run, run and never come back because this is stupid, what are they even looking for-

“Mooncakes!” they nearly shout, clapping a hand over their mouth a moment later, face bright red as they look away.

Their tail curls around their leg tight enough to hurt. The shopkeeper's eyes glance down at their leg, for a moment.

Spirit tries again, softer, and fidgets with their belt. “Um, if you, uh, if you have any mooncakes. I would...like those.”

They bite the inside of their cheek hard, just short of drawing blood.

Mooncakes are the only pastry they know by name. The only pastry that Father allowed and wanted them to make, special for New Years. That was when they could be in the kitchen for hours, baking batch after batch for customers in the Inn and to hand out to those in the infirmary.

Father never let them make anything outside of what people wanted, what could bring them in money. He was always so worried about costs, irate by a single lost yuan. They were only to do what could be profitable. Providing mooncakes to the tourists brought them business. That’s all he cared about.

Mom’s hospital business always made far more than the Inn ever did. It’s a point of pride they carry, that their Mother’s sunny disposition, kind nature, and astute healing practices made her far more of a matriarch than their Father liked. No one likes staying at an Inn with an owner who has such a cruel gaze, where the owner’s wife and child are too afraid to show their faces.

No one likes staying at an Inn where the owner doesn’t even have a face, but, well, Spirit wouldn’t know anything about that. Why would they? They’ve had claws for a long, long time, claws that are strong enough to rip and tear, but that has nothing to do with this. Nothing happened.

It’s none of your business. Stop asking.

The shopkeep smiles.

“Ah, Mooncakes,” she says. “It’s been a few months since the New Years celebration, but people are still coming around looking for them. I make a batch every other day just in case. Lucky for you, today’s the fresh batch!”

She turns away to the back, and Spirit lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Call me Almond,” Almond calls from the back.

Spirit smiles. “Thank you, Miss Almond.”

They only ask for a few, maybe three, but after they pay and leave they find nearly ten in the bag they’ve been given. They idly chew on one, and almost stop in the street as the rush of nostalgia is accompanied by the taste of an expertly baked mooncake.

Watching the fireworks with Mom, bright lights up in the sky, sharing a mooncake with someone who cared, being carried home, half asleep under the stars and wanting to be nowhere else but where they were then, because the only place that was home was her arms because they were warm and safe and now they’re….

They blink back a couple tears and continue to chew.

They walk around aimlessly for a while, and eventually climb up a random building to sit on its ledge, letting the wind brush through their fur as they chew on their second mooncake.

They wonder if Red would share one with them, if they asked. They never stayed around long enough to share one with him on New Years. They almost pull out their cell phone and text him, but…well.

Red hasn’t been close for a long time. A rift was made because Spirit failed him, and they’ve always been a coward, too afraid to reach across the gap where something safe and special used to be.

They put their phone away.

A token buzzes in their pocket.

They dig into their pocket, pulling out the proper token.

Oh. It’s Spider Queen!

Spirit hasn’t heard from her in a long while, but they’re always happy to help, so they let the token whisk them to where they need to be.

They can hear the rush of cars overhead when they appear in what they assume is the sewers. Eerie green pods of something litter the walls and ground, and there’s a fair smattering of purple grey spider webs that lighten the dark stones.

“Spirit!”

They turn, and see the Spider Queen just a foot or so away, bathed in green light from a crater shaped pool that has a green, bubbling liquid boiling within. She’s grinning wide at them, and Spirit will say that, for a demon lost for half a millennium (that’s most demons, to be fair. They all disappeared when the Demon Bull King did. After all, if Monkey King could do that to someone, what would he do to them, the weaker ones?), she looks just as much of a threat as she did the last time they saw her.

They bow.

“Hello, Miss Queen,” they greet, and, after glancing back at the bag gripped tightly in their hand, they say “Would you like a mooncake?”

Spider Queen stares, for a moment, and then laughs. “Ha! My, aren’t you sweet?”

The sound of Spider Queen’s mechanical spider legs sends a shiver down Spirit’s spine, but Spirit has never minded spiders all that much. As long as bugs stay away from them, in the sense that they don’t crawl onto them, Spirit leaves them be. Spider Queen is more than just a bug, they suppose, and therein lies the danger.

They stand up, reach into their bag, and pull out a mooncake.

“This is just the thing I needed!” Spider Queen plucks the mooncake from Spirit’s hand. “You would not believe the day I just had!”

She takes a bite and Mmms at the taste while Spirit fidgets silently.

“You know, I had my favorite meal taken from me, but this might be the next best thing.”

Spider Queen is a lot like Macaque, in the sense that they both talk a lot and Spirit never knows what to say in reply. There’s a lot of bragging, grandiose statements and plotting, and then eventually an expectation of a response. Spirit is never good at responses, though.

Then again, Spider Queen likes to hear herself talk a little more than she cares for a response. She’s easier to handle, in that sense. Macaque is harder.

“Would you mind giving me a buff, sweetheart? As a favor. I’ve got a bigger task for you, and it requires a bigger explanation. Why waste the time, right?” Spider Queen holds out one of her mechanical spider legs.

“Right,” Spirit replies with a small smile. “Of course.”

Lucky that they keep the polish for this sort of stuff on hand. They pull it out with a rag and start to polish the metal, working out old scratches and making them disappear until the surface glitters like new.

“This town has become a hotbed of activity since ol’ Demon Bull King jumped out from the netherworld,” She starts, talking as Spirit works. “I thought I’d sneak in and see what the fuss was about, maybe grab a meal or two. It has been ages since the Spider Queen has ruled, and now that we’re allowed to play, I’m planning on rebuilding my empire! The monkey boy came in and stole my meal, but he left behind a little piece of himself that I can use.”

She chuckles darkly at that notion.

“Monkey Boy?” Spirit inquires, moving onto the second leg.

“Ugh,” Spider Queen growls under her breath. “Monkey King’s newest pet project. He comes tearing in, stealing my perfectly good dinner, that little—” She cuts herself off.

Spirit hands her another mooncake. She makes a motion with it in the air, huffing indignantly before continuing. “His hair is enough to give my venom the kick it needs, but I don’t have the minions I used to. I need tech.”

Spirit starts on the fourth leg. The position they have to be to buff is uncomfortable, a strain on their back, but to complain would be stupid, so they deal with the pain.

“That’s where you come in, dear,” Spider Queen turns to them.

Spirit glances up.

“You’re good at getting information, and you probably understand this modern stuff better than I do.” She waves a hand, almost dismissive. “I need someone to build me some spider robots to transport the venom. You don’t need to worry about the transport, I’ve got Huntsman for that, but they don’t know what to look for.”

Spirit worked on finishing the fourth leg while they respond. “Of course, Miss Queen. Does it matter if they’re a demon or not?” They like to know specifics.

“Pfft—no self respecting demon knows anything about these new fangled devices! We thrive off of power and magic, not tech like phones! Those are things humans use as a crutch,” Spider Queen rolls her eyes, huffing.

“...Right,” Spirit replies, pointedly not getting offended on Red’s behalf.

It’s okay. She doesn’t know she’s being rude. Spirit stands up, having finished with buffing Spider Queen’s armory.

“I’ll get on it right away, Miss Queen. Anything else?” Spirit finds that being polite does wonders, and Spider Queen likes it when she’s called a Queen.

“Nope! I’m gonna relax. Good luck!” Spider Queen’s legs sound with metal clicks as she leaves, waving as she does so.

Spirit waits until they’re sure Spider Queen is far enough away for them to relax. They turn, walking toward where they can hear open rushing water. The sewers are essentially a river, and all rivers lead to the sea eventually. Macaque taught them that.

It takes them around an hour to walk to the end of the sewers, climbing out of the pipe and sitting atop it.

They’re just a few hundred yards away from the city’s docks. They dangle their feet over the edge of the pipe and watch the rushing sewer water drain out into the sea.

They pull out their phone.

Red Son would likely know how to work robotics, but they’re supposed to find a human. Plus, they don’t want to involve Red in this sort of stuff. They can probably ask Mei. She doesn’t know about their favor business, so she won’t be any the wiser, and she won’t feel guilty! It’s the perfect plan.

‘Mei.

Hello! It’s Spirit. I was wondering about the technology of the city. It is very advanced. How was it constructed? Who keeps it running?

Let me know if you know!

Spirit’

That should be inconspicuous enough to get Mei to start discussing things. They don’t like dancing around subjects, but they don’t think this is the sort of thing they can just tell Mei about. Mei is the type to have more of a moral backbone than Spirit does. Spirit has their rules, of course, their lines in the sand, but they do most anything regardless of consequence. What is good, what is bad; they don’t have the power to deliberate on that sort of thing.

If they were powerful enough that no one could hurt them, they would choose good, of course. They don’t enjoy most of the work they do, they don’t find satisfaction in it besides the comfort of knowing that they’re a little safer, but it’s necessary. They don’t have the luxury of knowing powerful people to protect them. They don’t have anyone who would.

So they protect themself, somehow. It works.

They pocket their phone, and head back towards the city.

They take a detour to the forest, because being in the sewers did nothing to keep them clean. There’s a stream a few miles out of town that’s perfect for washing in, though, so that’s where they end up, carefully scrubbing the scent out of their clothes and fur and sunbathing on a rock. They sprawl across it, back curved as their head hangs off one end and their feet and tail the other. They have to bend their legs a bit, because the rock isn’t tall enough to keep every part of them off of the ground, but it’s mostly comfortable.

Just for a few hours, they let themself rest, polishing off the last few mooncakes as their fur and outfit dry.

They end up falling asleep and wake up as stars dot the sky. The more they stare, the more their vision becomes unfocused, so that the lights triple in number. It’s fun, sometimes, to have lopsided eyes. It creates an interesting view.

They stretch, grabbing their now dry clothes and putting them on. They’ll take a leisurely walk back to the city, maybe pick up breakfast. Maybe. They already ate something this week, and it’s not like they need much. Why waste the money if it’s for something unnecessary.

Then again, Comes a voice that sounds a little bit like Macaque, a little bit like Father, and mostly like a part of themself they prefer to ignore; Were the mooncakes necessary?

Spirit doesn’t have an answer to that.

An hour’s walk gives them plenty of time to introspect, but Spirit prefers to avoid that. Their mind is a winding road paved back centuries, but while it started with lovingly placed bricks somewhere along the way the materials were left shattered. Glass and broken stone leaves feet bloody and pained, and you can’t go around, only through. So Spirit chooses neither, and leaves the rest of the road to be forgotten.

The road they’re on now, the present, is made with a mosaic of materials they managed to cobble together, after everything broke. It’s bumpy, there are cracks in the pavement, and you have to be careful. Spirit is always careful, though; they’ve had the practice.

The issue with being so, so careful is that leaving behind the earliest stretches of road means they remember little of their childhood. Spirit would never say it aloud, but they don’t remember their mother’s face. To find that picture would mean flipping through the bloody pages of their photo album, and Spirit is, at the end of it all, a coward.

That’s enough thought for now. We have to move things along.

Spirit thinks they can have a leisurely morning, but yet another token buzzes in their pocket, much to their chagrin. Spirit wouldn’t say it, but sometimes it’s exhausting to be at everyone’s beck and call. They signed up for it, however, they’ve no room to complain.

Reaching into their pocket, they pull out Yin and Jin’s token. They frown, if only because Yin and Jin call them the most frequently and, often, the favors they’re called for are mundane and silly.

Though, compared to the harder, less moral favors, they find these preferable.

They consider letting the token ring. They’ve done that before. Yin and Jin have so many favors put down that they get a little cavalier with how they interact with the pair. The two used Spirit a lot before they knew how the system worked and realized using them as a crutch was a bad idea.

Apparently owing Spirit something is a bad thing. Spirit can’t imagine why.

They sigh. As much as Yin and Jin are long-time clients, that’s no excuse for being late or lazy. They take a deep breath, and let the token whisk them away.

They arrive within the city, at the front step of a hideout. Spirit recognizes the alley once they swivel their head around. It’s a fair few miles in the middle of the city, where a lot of nooks and crannies lie between the bustling streets. Perfect for hiding. It’s not too far from the main road that it would be invisible, though Spirit isn’t sure if that’s because Yin and Jin want to be near the main road or if they just didn’t think about it. With their general intelligence, it’s 50/50.

They step inside, posture straight. All business.

“Hello,” they greet.

Inside is a rather sparse dwelling. There’s what appears to be an unused kitchen off to the right of the main room. Said room is a large expanse, and a dirty one at that. At the back of it is a board, covered in pins and string, tying threads together in myriad ways that Spirit can’t quite decipher. They see Mei up there. A picture of Pigsy. The rest are unrecognizable.

“Hey!” Yin calls.

Spirit’s gaze drops down to them. They’ve been taller than the two for centuries.

“Got a favor for ya,” Jin continues.

“I assumed,” Spirit replies. “What do you need me to do?

Red eyes squint with twin sharp-toothed grins, and they pull out a large book.

“Well you see,” Yin starts.

“We wanna go after the Monkie Kid, yeah?” Jin continues.

“So we made a plan,” Yin finishes.

They open the book, straight to the middle, and on the page are...two steps illustrated. Pretty self explanatory, in the sense that Spirit can tell that they want to use some sort of artifact to trap the Monkey King’s successor.

“So, we figured, Calabash,” Jin points to the first picture. “We capture him in it, keep ‘im in there, right?”

“Right,” Yin agrees.

They look to Spirit.

“Right?” Spirit says.

They both nod.

“The thing is,” Jin moves on, which Spirit appreciates because they don’t know where this conversation is going, “The calabash is uh, in a museum.”

“It’s old,” Yin supplies.

“You want me to retrieve it for you?” Spirit parses out.

Yin and Jin smile again, all teeth. It used to be intimidating, but, well, Spirit is older, and smarter.

Spirit is scared of everyone, but there’s a certain safety that comes with knowing that when push comes to shove, they just need to kill one to incapacitate the other. They’ve seen the two when one is absent without cause. They can use that, if needed. Not that they would, but they could. That makes them safe.

“Now you got it,” Jin crosses his arms over his chest.

“Sound good?” Yin asks.

“Do I have a time limit?” Spirit likes to know the conditions.

They’re already working on one favor, and if they have to worry about the time limit of another favor, then they have to balance things. Not that they do much else when not working on favors, but still. They like to be a little organized.

“We’re gonna order from the restaurant the kid works at in a week or two,” Yin explains.

Spirit nods. That gives them time. They have a phone now, too, and Mei taught them how to search stuff on it, so they can look up the museum once they’re out.

“Okay,” They respond. “Anything else?”

Yin and Jin glance at each other. They have this way of communicating without words, and Spirit finds it kind of cool. There’s a twitch of an eyebrow on one face, a small mouth movement on the other. Their expressions don’t really change, just shift a little.

“Nah, we’re good,” Yin waves them off.

Spirit nods and vanishes without a farewell.

All in all, they don’t dislike Yin and Jin. Sure, the two are loud and rambunctious, but so is Red, and Spirit could never dislike Red. In a way, they’re almost jealous of the pair. They have each other. They have someone who will never leave, who could never leave. Inseparable, two against the world.

One is the loneliest number, and maybe Spirit is just a little jealous to know a Yin who isn’t always alone.

As they head off, scaling the wall and choosing to traverse the city over rooftops, they get a text. It’s from Mei, a response to their earlier query. Spirit stops, tail swishing back and forth as they perch on the edge of a roof, toes curled over the edge to grip it as they squat, leaning down to read the text.

‘hey spirit!

the city is the sum of hundreds of years of advancement, with tens of hundreds of programmers and hardware engineers building it up! ive been looking up a lot of them as inspo for my work in tech.

i like this one programmer, syntax. hes a mystery, theres only one public picture of him, but hes responsible for most of the tech in the city! he was the leading programmer for the weather tower and has a bunch of patents he makes money off. total recluse lol no one knows where he could even live near! ive always wanted to meet him. lemme send you some articles!!!!!’

Interspersed between the sentences are a deluge of emojis. A lot of green hearts, a couple dragons, some rain clouds when mentioning the weather tower. Beneath the text are a few articles. Spirit squints. They think they press their finger on those.

Sure enough, pressing their finger on the article pulls it up in a...they think Mei called it a web browser? They should ask her next time they’re called over.

Or...well, Mei doesn’t know it, but they’re doing Spirit a favor, giving them this information, and if there’s anything Spirit fears, it’s being in someone’s debt. She doesn’t know, but she could find out, and if she did, she could use them, she could hurt them—

Well, Mei doesn’t seem the type, but one never knows.

‘Mei.

Thanks. I’ll read them soon. Hey, do you want to meet someplace? I know your mother was not thrilled at my offer to teach you swordfighting, but I am still willing to. As long as we meet away from your house. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble.

Let me know!

Spirit.’

That should even things out. A good lesson or two, maybe more. Spirit would prefer to do more than less when repaying a debt, just to be sure.

They start to peruse the different articles. The only public image they have of this programmer is striking. He’s got eccentric hair and a small mustache. He frowns at the camera, clearly displeased with having his picture taken, a pristine lab coat on and a pair of bright green glasses adorning his face. There’s a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place as the picture is taken.

The only known thing that he does is go to a specific coffee shop. Evidently, anytime he goes, the cameras in the area including phones stop working, thus contributing to the lack of photos. People like to chat about him, simply because of the mystery of it.

They get a text back from Mei.

‘sounds great! i know a place. text u the deets later! <3’

Spirit smiles.

They decide to stake out the coffee shop this Syntax goes to. It’s toward the outskirts of the city, small, with a reputation for using specially designed and grown beans that no one else can replicate. Supposedly. It keeps a low profile, as well as a very high end coffee shop can, but most people are priced out of it anyway. From what Spirit read from reviews, a lot of people would get this coffee as a treat, something to save up for as a present on a weekend. It’s a large place, and people often go to sit and relax for a while with their drink.

Syntax, evidently, goes there up to five times a week, to the point that his drink is memorized by everyone who works there. He pays in cash, to avoid any trace that he was there, and then disappears. People say he avoids being followed.

People, though. Mortals. They can’t see souls the way Spirit can.

They catch him on day two of their stakeout, and they sit, waiting, as he orders. Cash is exchanged, and he walks away. No one tries to follow him, but Spirit must, so they will.

They blink, and the world bursts into different colors. Souls of all different shades, constantly interacting with one another. Syntax’s soul is a neon green, with lavender lines within that resemble code. The soul takes on the whole of the person, after all. People more powerful can have souls that show it. Spirit likes that. They like knowing that they can always check if people are lying.

They follow, and soon realize why Syntax is so hard to follow. Every turn and twist he sends out a...well, he can’t make clones, but they’re digital recreations of himself that continue walking in a different direction than the real Syntax is. They’re near perfect, able to fool anyone who just saw them as is, but they don’t have souls.

So Spirit follows the soul.

It’s a good hour walk, not that Syntax walks all the way. Once he’s out of the main city area, he hops into a hover car that seems like a personal project (if the paint job is anything to say about it) and blasts off. Spirit follows the trail, far enough behind that they can’t see Syntax but close enough that they can catch his colors in their eye.

It’s a good twenty minutes before they reach Syntax’s house. It looks like a fortress, a large mansion gated and hidden. Spirit takes a picture, grabs Spider Queen’s token, and disappears.

They were just told to locate him, after all. They prefer that. As much as Spirit is good at their job, they don’t like the thought of having to kidnap anyone, because the person would likely scream, or cry, or beg, and Spirit would have to see that.

It’s easier if they don’t see it. They already know it isn’t right, they don’t need the painful reminder.

Spider Queen’s lair is as dark and damp as they remember, with the added addition of an expansion of the green pool of bubbling liquid. It has spread to little pods scattered about the place, glowing ominously with newfound energy.

“Miss Queen?” They call.

Green eyes blink from the dark, and Spirit stays very still as she comes into view.

“Back so soon?” Spider Queen leans back on her mech, grinning like...what was the phrase Spirit had heard. Like a cat who had caught the canary? That’s it.

Spirit doesn’t know why it has to be a canary. Cats eat plenty of birds. And mice! Odd.

“I have what you want,” Spirit replies, keeping it short and to the point. “He’s an engineer and a programmer, and a recluse, so people probably won’t notice if he goes missing. I have a picture of his house, and I can take you to it if you want, bu_t”

“That won’t be necessary,” Spider Queen waves a hand. She clears her throat with intention, and Spirit tilts their head to the side as another figure comes out from the shadows.

“My Queen,” Huntsman’s voice is as gravelly as ever, and he bows a little in greeting.

Spirit gives him a small wave. He rolls his eyes at them.

Fair enough.

“I need you to hunt down this human. He’s important to my debut as Queen of the world! Spirit here has the details.”

Spider Queen gestures to them, and Spirit jumps a little as the weight of seemingly eyes all fall upon them.

“O-oh!” They fumble to pull out their phone. “I have-uh-I have a photo of his house, so you can use that, and, uh—”

They look down, and Huntsman is suddenly very, very close to them. They take a wary step back.

He sniffs them.

“Were you just there?” He asks.

Spirit slowly nods, holding out their phone so Huntsman can see the picture of Syntax’s house. He glances down at it, and then after scanning it over, nods decisively.

“I’ll have him here by tomorrow,” he promises.

“He-uh-!” Spirit raises a hand, pressing their fingers to their mouth in apprehension. “His house looks very high tech. There’ll uh-there’ll probably be, um, defenses.”

They haven’t talked to Huntsman or Goliath much, in the centuries they’ve been around to help Spider Queen with different things, but Huntsman gave them a knife once. Said it was because they looked pathetic without a way to defend themself. They didn’t want to tell him that they already had a weapon, so they kept the knife. He got them one with a purple grip, even! It was a nice gesture, and Spirit would like Huntsman to stay alive.

Not that they ever really want anyone dead, but they know it’s often an eventuality, and saving every person, wanting to keep every person they know around is hard, and will only lead to pain. They know from experience. Besides, they’re pretty sure no one would do anything to keep them alive. If a tool breaks you can always get a new one, so Spirit is expendable, and expendable means that you can’t be expected to be kept safe. They know from experience. But they like certain hands that wield them over others, so they’d like those ones to remain, at least.

Huntsman grins, at that.

“I love it when they fights back,” he almost purrs before skittering off.

Spirit watches him leave, head tilted to the side. They suppose it makes sense that he likes hunting, considering his name is Huntsman. They wonder if his name was because of his type or his profession. Or maybe his type dictated his profession? Then again, there isn’t such a spider type as queen, so that’s a little silly to think about.

“Thank you, dear,” Spider Queen says, jerking Spirit out of their thoughts.

Spirit bows. “Of course, Miss Queen.”

When they stand up, there’s a bag of money—smaller than the one Macaque gave them, but hefty nonetheless—being offered to them.

“You’re too skinny,” Spider Queen says. “I can’t have a servant of mine looking half starved! Do something about it.”

Spirit blinks. They didn’t think they were too skinny. Sure, they could feel their ribs easily, but that's nice, because whenever they break their ribs they can figure out which one super fast. It’s useful. They don’t want to disappoint Spider Queen, though, and while she didn’t say it was a favor she is giving Spirit money, so they might as well get something to eat as a job well done gift.

They ignore how that thought makes their stomach squirm. How they feel about the jobs they are given does not matter. It never has.

“Of course,” They repeat, taking the bag. With another bow, they leave.

Thankfully, this trip hasn’t ruined their clothes, so they don’t need to wash them. They leave through a manhole cover in an alley, and when they peek their head out to see where they are, Bitter Sweets stares them down from across the street.

Well, at least they know they’ll like something from the shop, right?

The bell above the door rings in their ears long after the sound leaves the room, and Almond comes in with a smile that is slowly becoming familiar. It’s almost motherly, but Spirit wouldn’t say that, because if they did they’d have to run. Run before the motherly figure burns to dust, disappears for the sole reason of being motherly to them, of all people.

So for now, they say it is kind, and warm, and comforting.

“Spirit!” she grins up at them.

Spirit smiles hesitantly back.

“More mooncakes?” Almond prompts.

“Yes,” They nod, toes curling in excitement.

Nostalgia hurts a little, but it’s nice, too. “And—” they start, because Almond is kind, and open, and soft and Spirit can be brave a little. “Maybe, um, you could recommend some stuff? I-uh,” They rub the back of their neck sheepishly. “I don’t know the names of most of this.”

They gesture to the display case lamely.

Almond’s smile somehow gets softer, and her eyes light up with excitement. Spirit’s tail swishes back and forth with a calm joy from making someone happy.

“Of course,” Almond replies.

Getting the Calabash is, unsurprisingly, boring. Stealing an item is much easier than tracking a person. One quick search and they find it in a museum, nestled near the center of the city. Sneaking in is easy, because while they are tall, they’re quiet, flexible, and smart. That, and the people here are very lax in security. Being so used to peacetime makes people complacent. In a way, Spirit is relieved that they have known conflict most of their life. It keeps them sharp.

They don’t know what to do in peacetime. There’s always something to do, a job to accomplish. A fight to help with. What else can they do?

The only thing that gives them pause is the existence of two Calabashes. One, older and far larger, is stated as the original. Evidently, using a mix of demon magic and more modern technology, a new one was made, one that aimed to capture rather than kill.

Yin and Jin never specified which one they wanted. If Spirit was to guess, they know the pair would want the original. The one that melts whoever is trapped within. The one that kills.

Spirit doesn’t kill children. And they don’t know the Monkey King’s successor, but he’s a child. Younger than they are.

Are they a child? Were they ever?

So they hedge their bets on the idea that Yin and Jin won’t notice the difference, and pick the newer, kinder one.

The pair does not notice. They’re a bit scatterbrained like that. Or maybe they don’t care.

Once the Calabash is secured and delivered, Spirit sits atop a random building, chewing on leftover pastries from their last visit to Almond’s bakery. The sunset is looking awfully nice, but Spirit thinks that the charm is lost once you lose someone to watch them with, so they pull out their phone.

In the news section, there is a small article about Syntax abandoning his favorite coffee shop. The article supposes that he picked another spot to get his caffeinated beverages. There are thousands of comments speculating, wondering where he could have gone.

Spirit knows the truth. The weight of that, the guilt, sits at the bottom of their stomach like a stone.

But there’s a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand stones sitting there, and they’ve been dragging Spirit down for a long time. One more isn’t going to change much, isn’t going to drag them deeper down than they already are. They’ve been drowning for centuries. Drowning, mouth clenched shut, holding in their final breath, as if the moment they let it go they’d finally succumb to the suffocation pressing against them on all sides.

When they were younger, they’d claw to the surface, take a breath or two, before another stone weighed them lower. The sunlight doesn’t reach them, with how deep they are now. Nothing does, because Spirit is alone. That’s what happens when you hurt everyone around you, isn’t it?

One of these days, they were going to let go. One of these days, they’d open their mouth, and finally they would be able to scream.

Sometimes all Spirit wants to do is let go, scream, and drown.

They look at the sunset. It’s looking awfully nice, don’t you think?

#kitkat1003 #Yin Spirit #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid oc

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