#and the next person who defends THAT person. can also. eat my entire ass.

[anonymusbosch]

work was so bad the last couple days tho. disregarding the fun readings it was like 90% trying to fix problems that other people were just breathtakingly unwilling to fix

[dragjunkie23]

Goth Night, Pt 3

After the previous evening’s activities, Sam and (Y/N) along with Dean are forced to jump into action to help solve this case

Fluff, Mentions of Smut. Minors DNI

I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. “The fuck…” I thought, then I remembered last night’s events. Was Sam actually cooking breakfast?

I looked over to my alarm clock that said “9:30 am.” This is actually the longest I have gotten some sleep. I usually would wake up in the middle of the night, but this time…I didn’t.

Getting up, I put on some sweatpants and one of my night shirts. It was a little chilly out today but being in Sam’s embrace the entire evening definitely helped out matters. I shuffled into my kitchen to see Sam with just some boxers on frying up the bacon in my pan. It definitely was a sight to behold. Nothing was hotter than a man who knew how to cook.

He turned to see me standing by the frame and gave me a smile. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I said, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I would go up further to give him a little kiss on the cheek, but my tiny ass is never gonna reach there.

He continued to cook, the bacon in the frying pan smelling more good as time went on. “Normally I’m not one for bacon,” he said, “But, it was that and eggs in the fridge, so…”

“What’s usually your go to?” I asked.

“Smoothies.”

“What kind?”

“Sometimes with kale…”

“Oh dear Lord. You’re one of those health nuts, aren’t you?”

He chuckled a little bit. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…most hunters I have met don’t eat very well. I think for them, they turn to food for comfort.”

I sat down at the dining table, pouring myself some orange juice as Sam finished up. He bought over the bacon and eggs to the table in little bowls for us to scoop up when we wanted. “I’ve noticed it as well. I guess…doing more active things like going for morning runs provides me that chance to just relax.”

“Well, it’s better than what I do.”

“What do you do?”

“Blast the most angsty and angry music out there, singing along and just violently dancing around my room.”

Sam laughed, probably picturing the image. “How does one ‘violently dance?’”

“Did you not notice some of the goths at the club last night?” I asked.

“Nope. Was too focused on you.”

I just rolled my eyes but I also felt my face heat up. “Smooth. Well anyways…sometimes the way we dance, it’s either more elegant or getting all that energy out. At the end of the day, it’s about expression. To many people it seems very weird, but in a way…it’s relaxing. It allows us to just be free and not worry about how others perceive us.”

“I have noticed you doing the more elegant moves,” he said “It did confuse me a bit, not going to lie.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I chuckled.

As we continued our breakfast, we just talked more. We already broke a majority of the ice last night in the bedroom so the conversations was definitely following a lot better. I can tell Sam was a bit more relaxed and was starting to open up more to me. He told me more about why he usually doesn’t date around, and it’s not just because he’s a hunter. Any woman that has wanted him and he wanted has died in some way.

It broke my heart to hear that, knowing that these monsters knew a way to get to Sam. He admitted that he was nervous on getting close to me, but once he realized that I was someone who had knowledge of the hunter’s life and knew how to defend myself, he knew it was safe.

“You just seem like the type to hold your own,” he said.

“Well, I certainly hope so, or all that training my father did would’ve been for nothing,” I chuckled.

_________________________

“You were right. It’s an Incubus.”

Shortly after breakfast, Dean called Sam and asked him to come back to their motel room. I tagged along as I wanted to know what was going on. Dean pretty much confirmed my suspicions the moment I walked in the door.

“Fucking knew it,” I said, “What confirmed it?”

“Well…after I left the two of you to do…whatever, I wounded up going home with this chick and she was friends with one of the ladies who was abducted. She said that the guy looked like her type…and by that I mean he looked like her dead husband but with some different features.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, “At least we know what we’re dealing with…”

“Um…who is this…we?” Dean said.

“You and Sam…and me?”

“She really wants to help,” Sam said, “And well…she’s pretty much a walking encyclopedia of the lore with this amount of knowledge.”

Dean just looked at me up and down before a grin spread on his face. “Well, we can’t turn down a lady friend of Sammy’s now.”

“Dean,” Sam growled.

“What? I think it’s great you got someone! She’s hot AND a hunter!? Dude…”

My face heated up in embarrassment, but a part of me was also kind of happy that I at least had Dean’s approval.

“Don’t call her hot…”

“Fine…she’s attractive. Happy?”

“Whatever…just cut it out. She’s clearly embarrassed.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I know how older brothers can be. However, we have an Incubus to track down. Let’s get it before it gets any more women.”

[darkened-storm]

The Venus Fly Trap

@bladerbunny @hellovivirose @let-it-ripperoni

“Your venus fly trap is looking pretty average,” Steph said rather hesitantly. Ilma, however, took a far less tactful approach. “It looks rather dead.” Celeste winced. “I think it’s hungry, but I can’t get it to eat anything. I even let a fly hang around it for three days and nothing.” Steph shuddered and resisted the urge to douse the kitchen in disinfectacnt, but she did make a mental note to douse Ian instead before they let him into the sharehouse again. “Maybe we can feed it ourselves,” Ilma suggested, heading for the fridge. “I put some steak in here last time Steph over-stocked on groceries.” “Lies and slander,” Steph defended herself. “I don’t overstock. I buy extra steak because we can’t have any form of poultry around here on account of Brooklyn’s love affair with the feathered creatures.” “We also can’t keep fish in the house because it makes you puke,” Ilma reminded her apathetically as she rifled through the freezer. “Aha.” She tossed the steak down on the counter with a thud and reached for a knife. With the sort of expertise and knife handling skills that made Celeste and Steph fear for the next person who crossed her, Ilma filleted the steak and placed a small sliver on one of the trap’s leaves. And nothing happened.

“It’s not working,” Celeste said, sounding defeated. “Hmm,” Ilma murmured, frowning at the plant. “Maybe it prefers fresh meat. It is a carnivorous plant after all.” “Oh joy,” Steph muttered. “Maybe we should shove Ian’s nose in there then.” Ilma, who always took the potential mutilation of Ian’s nose entirely seriously, said; “it’s not going to fit, but we could try his finger instead.” “You’re not feeding Ian to the plant!” Kiya’s shout could be heard from the lounge where she was clearly eavesdropping whilst working. “You’ll give it indigestion.” Ilma rolled her eyes. “Fine, we won’t feed Ian to the plant.” She turned to Celeste. “Did it come with any instructions when you brought it?” Celeste glanced around the kitchen and ruffled some of Kiya’s paperwork. “They’re around her soemwhere… Kiya, when are you going to clean up this mess?” “When your lazy ass boyfriend starts pulling his weight around here!” was the irritated response. “Last I checked this academy was HIS IDEA.” “You had to ask, didn’t you,” Ilma grumbled and Celeste shook her head in dismay. “Here it is,” Steph announced, plucking a colourful flyer from the bottom of the pile and reading the instructions out loud. “Do not feed a Venus fly trap any meat: including chicken, steak, sausages or hot dogs. Also, refrain from offering it fruit or candy.” She flipped the flyer over and appraised the other side, then screwed her face up in disgust. “Well that’s not very helpful at all. I’m going to get someone who has actually kept a plant alive for more than a day.” She disappeared upstairs and returned with Becky in tow. “It needs more light for a start,” Becky determined, then aimed a glare in her cousin’s direction. “If someone bothered to open the curtains around here…” Ilma looked offended. “I need to protect my skin from the UV light - think about my complexion.” Ignoring her, Becky went on. “You shouldn’t let it flower either,” she said, reaching for the sheers. “A mature trap can handle the energy deficit of producing a flower, but not before it’s at least a year old.” “But the flowers are so pretty,” Celeste lamented. “Yes, but they’re entirely useless,” Becky insisted as she began to hack away at the flowers with the sheers. “Purely ornamental.” “Oh, so like your boyfriend,” Steph deduced, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure Kai wasn’t lurking in the hallway. “And it needs food it would catch in the wild,” Becky went on, ignoring the comment. She cleared the Ilma’s steak from the trap then reached for the fly squatter Kiya had conveniently stored by the microwave. SPLAT! The fly that had been buzzing around the kitchen for the last three days met an unfortunate end and Becky plucked it from the squatter using a pair of chopsticks. “Ew,” Celeste grimaced, watching as Becky carefully placed the fly on the leaf of the trap. Then, using the edge of the chopstick, she tickled the fine hairs on the edge of the leaf and the trap snapped shut. “ACK!” Steph exclaimed, jumping back and yeeting Ilma in front of herself as a shield, but Celeste was bouncing on the balls of her feet and hugging Becky enthusiastically. “You did it!” Their mission accomplished, the girls retired to the lounge room. Steph snuggled into the couch and used Kiya’s shoulder as a pillow. “So - does the fly trap have a name?”

[servenas-inner-fangirl]

Watching Black Sails 3x4

Starting a new episode takes the strength of at least ten men. Maybe I should spoil myself some more to make some of that anxiety in regards to how and when the bad things that I know will happen do happen go away.

Lol @ the crab being swished away by the waves.

Plus: Water. Minus: Cannibals?

Appearantly I can recognize Flint by his legs now, or rather by the way he walks. Or maybe it's the ass in those pants.

Flint loves it when Silver is being smart. And I love that they're bffs again.

Flint has no faith in his new partners, hm?

"If we speak with one voice, we seem to be able to compel them to any end." Uuuugh, those two.

"I wouldn't trade you for any ten of them." Cue 'the worst person you know has just made a great point' meme.

"Who is he?" and Jack shrugging, hahaha. Known each other for years, my ass. Like Jack has any friends out there that even compare to those in here with him.

Oh wow, did not expect that. Jack Rackham, you will be a fearsome pirate yet.

Charles is so heartbroken that his plan to defend Nassau failed. ;_; And Anne seems to have some sympathy with him.

Flint taking care of Silver is my new favorite thing.

OUCH.

"Sold more than we freed." So this confirms that Flint's crew used to trade slaves (apart from the ones Eleanor bought in S1).

A big camp indeed. That's almost a city!

This is really from the frying pan into the fire into... idk, a volcano? What did the walrus crew do to deserve so much bad luck? (Don't answer that one.)

Isn't that last crewmember of the slave ship a little too convenient?

Put holes in the fort, repair the fort, blow up the fort... what's next, build a new fort?

"Jack, you know there's no way I'd ever let that happen." What is with the feelings amongst the ranger crew this season! You weren't like this in season 1! (But then Vane didn't kill them even though they conspired to kill the rest of his crew, soo...)

"I was about to say 'See you soon, but that would probably be a lie, wouldn't it?" Aaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Damn, that was a big boom. Looks like there was enough explosive material after all.

The fact that nobody is even considering Flint in this whole endeavor is kind of offensive to me.

Hornigold: My fooooort.

Things are not going well for Flint's crew, I see. But nice to see Silver scheming again.

Vane used to be so respected aka feared in Nassau and now he's a wanted man, that's gotta sting. There's no saying who will betray him and when. - Hah, but that man thought better off it with just a look from him!

Ah, so do bring a gun to a sword fight, got it.

Vane really has to eat shit at least once in every battle, doesn't he? But it's nice to see that he's just a man despite his reputation.

Oooh, Teach to the rescue.

Damn, that look Charles had for the last one. Also is that a braid I see in his hair? I thought he didn't have any anymore. That makes me happy (and my headcanons related to this go brr...)

Nooo, Eleanor has betrayed him once again. This makes me sad.

"I hate to say this, but is it possible we missed the point of that story?" Hahaha, Silver trying to head off another one of Flint's crazy ideas at the pass.

Jack is also truly upset that their plan for Nassau went south. My poor baby. ;_; But at least he has Anne being pragmatic.

"Have you done this before?" "No. You?" "No." Well that inspires confidence.

Also fire on a ship made almost entirely out of wood makes me nervous!

"Charles Vane sees past his anger to achieve the greater end. How did that happen?" So we all wonder.

"I was taught a lesson once. It's been effective." T__T Don't make me relieve that one! My poor shipper heart.

Rogers has the right instincts for once, unfortunately.

Also how can all these pirates swim? Is that a requirement to be on Vane's crew?

Yeah, I mean, why wouldn't you try to sink the fire ship? But I have a feeling there might be a surprise left...

The look of resignation on Rogers' face. And the satisfaction on Vane's and Teach's. (Also I approve of Charles Vane dripping wet. Sorry not sorry.)

And now the rest of the ships can slip the blockade, yeeeeees.

Oh, time for some more honesty between Flint and Silver, except now it's Flint who's confessing. Maybe that'll do him some good...

Nooo, Flint, don't give up!

Ah, so I was right, this is Madi. She seems cool.

OOooooooh. That is her father?? Yeah, he might have something to say about this. Also that adds layers to his character. How much, if anything, did Eleanor know about this?? Also, wasn't he willing to sacrifice a hold full of slaves (and himself) for her in season 1?? I have questions.

Noooooooo.

[im-constantly-fangirling-backup]

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

[Masterlist] [Taglist Form] [Join my 200 followers celebration!]

Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

[unknownzapy]

Type of Blog: Comfort Head canons.

Trigger Warnings: Bullying/Harassment, Homophobia, General Anti LGBT+ statements, Mild religion talk.

Author’s Note: This was requested by a friend, but this will go for those who are going through some shitty situations all because of your gender identity and/or sexuality. Just know that you are just as valid and loved as the next person, even if some crappy people say otherwise ❤️❤️❤️. These Head-canons can go either romantic or platonic, I don’t mind which way you perceive them. I’d also like to apologize if any of these are too short/long and if any of these characters are out of character, so please give me some criticism for it!

Prompt: GN!Reader gets bullied/harassed because of their gender identification/sexuality.

Uraraka “Uravity” Ochako

It doesn’t matter if you’re another stranger at U.A. High school or a friend hers, she’s going to defend you either way.

Uraraka is very accepting of your sexuality/gender, though she occasionally slips up on your preferred pronouns. She doesn’t do it on purpose though!

Loves to bring you with her and her friends shopping/out to eat whenever they have free time, but she won’t call you out on being Gay/Lesbian/Bi/Trans/etc to her classmates unless you’re comfortable with it.

Though if you’re an introvert, Uraraka will love to bring you some comfy blankets and food to eat while watching Netflix. She loves going to your dorm or the other way around and seeing you happy ❤️.

Anyways, if you do come out to her classmates, they’ll shower you with love and support just as much.

Like Uraraka, they’ll support you in any way possible. May it be buying you binders, educating themselves, verbally reassuring you, walking with you if you’re a little scared to go outside, and even a shoulder to lean on if you need to vent/cry about someone harassing you for your gender/sexuality.

I feel like Bakugou would most likely beat someone up (or at least try to before Aizawa ties him up-) for purposely being an ass by calling you slurs, calling you the wrong pronouns, etc.

Kirishima would call you the manliest/womanliest (whatever you want to be called) person he knows for coming out, bringing him to tears for your courage on doing so.

Momo and Iida are the most educated on the matter, making no accidents or mistakes on your gender/sexuality. They’ll make sure everyone else is just as educated as well.

You get the idea, but honestly, they’re like one big chaotic family to you.

Of course, Uraraka is your best friend/best lover throughout your entire transition! Giving you verbal reassurance, hugs and high fives (if you enjoy physical touch that is), handing you your favorite foods during Netflix & Chill, ect

It’s no surprise that she’ll also fight anyone who’s going to discriminate you, even if she isn’t the strongest person in the world, let alone her own classroom.

Sun(drop)

It’s no secret that you were “friends” with The Daycare Attendant. Why I put friend in quotes is because it’s a little strange for a human to be close with an animatronics, but no one is bothered by it.

But anyways

You always helped Sun with the kids when they get lost or get into petty fights, whether you like it or not >:).

After the kids leave or whenever Sun has a break (which is rarely), you take the time to get to know each other.

Whether you work there, visit the pizzaplex for the food, or some other reason you’re here, time goes on and so does your friendship strengthen.

That is up until wanting to come out to the hyperactive animatronic, thinking that he’ll probably want to cut ties with you bc you liked women/men/whatever you’re interested in or because you were transgender/non-binary/whatever you identify as.

Whatever you are, you were filled with nothing but anxious thoughts and decided to avoid Sun altogether.

What made it worse was that a few of the children’s parents soon realized that you were LGBTQ+ and didn’t take it lightly.

“You’re poisoning my child’s head!”

“Your lifestyle is your business, so don’t bring it to anyone else.”

“My religion is against gays/lesbians — People like you.”

With all the bullying and harassment, you were overwhelmed with sadness, resentment, fear, and all other emotions you can’t describe.

All you could do was cry somewhere private, or so you hoped, and be left alone with your thoughts.

When Sunny boy here catches wind that you’re being bullied for your gender/sexuality and that’s the reason why you’re avoiding him, he’s going to get mildly aggressive and protective of you.

Why couldn’t you tell him sooner? Which parents does he need to “talk” to? Do you want to be comforted now or later?

All these these thoughts rush into his head as the clock reaches 6 am for the families to leave, but before some of them could leave, he would make an entire scene of scolding them for what they’re doing before banning them from the daycare, going as far as to do the “Whoo Whoo” thing for the main 4 for help if they step foot into the daycare again. Especially Monty and G.Freddy’s help, knowing that Monty is the most aggressive around and G.Freddy the more understanding and accepting father type of the main 4.

As much as he cares for you, it stings to see you hurt or in any kind of pain. He eventually does find you, picks you up under the arms, carries you into the Daycare for some privacy, and brings you into a tight hug. You flinch at first, but accept it and let all your emotions out as tears run down your face.

He lets you take your time until your done and ready to come out. Once you do, all he’s going to do is listen to you vent about your recent problems.

Sun takes it all in and keeps a closer eye on you from now on, ask how your day is, ban all the homophobes and anyone that disrespects you or your other friends who’re in the LGBT+ community, etc.

It takes Sun no time at all to use your preferred pronouns and treats you the same.

All in all, the relationship between you both is incredibly stable. Just make sure that Moon doesn’t murder someone btw/hj.

[sugar-petals]

SuperM as Boyfriends Headcanon

↪ caro’s note. extra long version because i miss ‘em. best boys, they’re all bf material to the moon and back ♡

5k words | bullet points

○ warnings ⚠️ 18+, dom/sub play, shibari, female reader, grinding, poly mentions, threesomes, face-sitting, femdom & vanilla, smut and fluff

⌈ ten

— motto: they won’t underestimate me for long.

most of your social environment is gonna be confused by ten at the beginning 

and don’t really get what he’s all about

or think he’s like whatever, some random guy in a tank top

acting peculiar

finding him kind of hard to gauge

some of your family and relatives might even think he’s totally unusual and a sneaky fuckboy making you mad 

they seriously wonder what you see in him

down the line that perception has turned by 180 degrees

as it should

ten becomes more irreplaceable, relatable, beautiful, perfect and impressive the more you know him

he’s not as mysterious and impossibly badass as everyone assumes

his personality is very approachable to you 

and you find him interesting in every aspect, looks to hobbies to background to personal habits

and also opinions because ten is a guy who really thinks stuff through

so you gotta be roughly on the same wavelength 

he likes discussing controversial and complicated stuff a lot for sure

being far wiser than his age suggests 

you are the first to share those things with him until the rest of the world catches up to this gem of a person

spending so much time with you

in the most personal way he can

he takes you to see the floating markets in bangkok, you spend the summer in thailand

wakeboarding and playing badminton

his entire family knows you inside out at some point this shit is serious

it’s very important to him to go back to the roots every now and then

and that you have been around his home city as well

getting to enjoy the area and time together eating the most savory delicacies

renting a boat and paddling you around to the important spots, he can explain any question you have

this kissing is gonna be so romantic 

who needs a vacation in venice when you can go to thailand with none other than ten himself as your ferryman let that sink in

except eating durian there he is, the boyfriend who can do anything!

with seemingly no effort

ten does little kind services of love for you throughout the day

he pours you herbal tea, fixes some furniture (he’s surprisingly good at tinkering), comes home from the bakery with your favorite pastry, does the laundry with your favorite fabric softener

he also goes on a huge shopping spree with you monthly because fashion is key in this household and it’s tremendous fun

you giggle when he puts on oversized shirts deliberately to look funny

everyone in the clothing store will think oh man what an adorable pair

ten will model the living hell out of the entire stock

and buy you the cape you really really want as a birthday present

said item turns out to be your favorite couple accessory

because you can sit next to each other on a bench at the river and wear it

what’s not to love about a portable blanket

of course he will take to instagram and make it such a cool thing, photographies of you wearing really cool coats and jackets

mirror bathroom selfies together as well, with a back hug, the classic

and not just for insta

you snuggle a lot generally

ten is always available for affection

and accepts all PDA

he’s a kitty after all, he loves the warmth of your body more than you know

remember how taemin said ten’s hands are always cold, newsflash not anymore since you stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie whenever you can

and hello sir your paws will be nice and cozy on my waist

or hand in hand when you waltz through your apartment

time for dance is a must

oh my god ten is so good at all of this

although say he’s definitely faster into latin than standard genres

tango argentino, he loves flamenco as well

don’t believe me? ten is a diehard rosalía stan!

vamos

so, no-brainer, expect a lot of dancy stuff 

that escalates into wild, passionate fucking

which probably looks like an aggressive form of couple exercises

you poor sore souls

ten’s lil kitty butt is falling apart from all the “i can handle a bigger one!”-level pegging and you have aching legs all over

favorite position? full nelson

if you ask me ten’s ass is probably so carved out by the end of this you could fit lucas and kai in there from head to toe

this is not for the faint of heart

sex with this guy is extra cardio

and if you’re into that a threesome is gonna go down sooner or later

with our girl lisa

there. i said it

miss manoban in those knee-high boots, grinding her thighs between yours and you finishing off on ten’s face? the fucking hottest thing ever i need a moment wow

i don’t have to tell you how orgasmic this is gonna be

steamy sex life with ten very recommended

⌈ kai

— motto: you’re like a precious rose. i’ll protect you forever.

to be straightforward with you

he is in so heavily in demand it’s madness

to give you an idea of the scale

mark is basically occupied by yuta until the end of time 

but kai has an entire idol fanclub on top of all erigoms

those sharp moves did not go unnoticed

he gets an inkigayo sandwich every other day

jesus christ

if rent-a-sexy-bf.com was a thing kai would be the most requested

his phone would be blowing up with contracts like

and you also have to pass kyungsoo’s vibe check

and taemin’s

the road to being kai’s gf is indeed the way of the samurai

i mean honestly: kim jongin is without a doubt the hardest member to get a date with

this has got to be the most selective man of the entire industry or something

if he likes you he REALLY likes you

and he will be the one showing initiative

because he wants to make it clear he isn’t just spending time out of politeness or something

although it’s pretty logical that if kai was unable to reject someone he would no longer be an idol but a harem husband busy every hour of the day

seoul would be able to found its own village 

kai town

where like 70% of the population is pregnant

but since kai wants to keep on dancing obviously and he wants to lend his heart to only one person 

seoul has to settle with a singular nini family house instead of a kai district

where you and the man himself are a full-fledged household basically since kai’s nieces double as actual kids

if you wanna be a young ass ‘mom but not mom with kids’ and be married to kim kai this is it

does he have a thing for milfs or something

that thought just came to my mind

anyway you’re mommy anyway wink wink

fucking til’ dawn until even his muscles hurt

going raw at the gym together

him cooking the most random food with the infamous waffle maker

cuddling with an army of teddy bears surrounding you

walking the dogs with the sexiest dancer alive 

and the sexiness is only the tip of the iceberg 

we know he’s all-round amazing

kai is the king of figuring out ways to chill out with you anywhere anytime

and yes innocent chilling

...unless you’re in the mood for something else

up to you

anyway

sweet innocent chilling for now... with the stunner... just smooching at best things aren’t going raw or anything

on the couch in the kitchen in the car when it’s parked somewhere in nature

kai takes you very seriously and is a great listener

he’s literally so respectful and open-minded i can’t

he will keep your secrets and stand up for you if it’s ever needed

yes he is extremely caring and invested

kai does not tolerate others being shady towards you

if there’s an instance where you are hurt and unable to assert yourself don’t worry. he knows how to confront others with measure but a firm determination.

kai takes a lot of that responsibility but only to the degree where you are comfortable

i think you get what i mean by that

and he is diplomatic instead of plain patronizing

you have a right to be protected. it means he not only treats you well, but also makes sure your well-being isn’t disturbed in any other way outside of the relationships

outside influences aren’t to be underestimated

and since kai is a godly man you encounter a lot of jealousy from others

a matter he will take into his hands since he knows he’s the reason

standing up for you also means saying no 

to these jealous voices so this is an important boundary he has to draw

that all kinds of hellbent people want to get into his pants and take his stage image too literally is not up to you to fix

kai is there for you to enjoy and love not to defend

that’d be exhausting and beside the point 

kai prevents stress and negativity to come to you

i hope i explained this well he doesn’t do this to be bossed up or make you weak it’s because he wants to make life easier for you

guys being protective will be chalked up as chauvinistic these days. often rightfully so 

but what i mean is that kai support you in all regards so you won’t be at a disadvantage or feel terrible about something

⌈ taeyong

— motto: we’ll take good care. enjoy the pleasure.

he’s the type of boyfriend who will ask you about things he missed out on while he was busy

things um from the internet

while mark literally knows that one by heart already taeyong will ask you things like what the wellerman song is

and you thought it would be something nsfw

i got you fooled

did we forget that the man literally watched nct memes on youtube

taeyong is both even more 18+ than you think but also even more innocent than you think it’s complicated

this man is just hard to describe he’s so different, i mean every person is unique but he’s an original it’s the extra mile you know

anyway

sea shanties

bopping to it all day since he just heard it 

singing it while he prepares dinner based on a youtube recipe video as he often does

he’s the most adorable person ever ever ever

asking you why shanties are back in fashion 

(good question, requires a deeper sociocultural analysis i reckon)

planning to remix one for his soundcloud lmao i kid you not

maybe your favorite shanty 

featuring fast-pace rap and all

creating his own previously unknown phrases and shit like that you know him

palazzo rocco lemon detox flashbacks

he’s hilarious i swear

taeyong will produce his own shanties for you can you imagine

as he says: my happiness is your happiness

watch out he will drop a shanty music video with extra krumping moves

taeyong is a never-ending source of pure crack

prepare to laugh a lot like, a lot lot

how can a man who seemingly has such a serious outlook on life and such a bonkers kinda face be so lighthearted

it’s like he’s peter pan or something

especially since he has to manage like over 20 brats in nct his cutesy behavior towards you as his gf will stand out to you

yeah so to be clear we all know he’s the cute one in the relationship

and guess who wears the pants

that’s always you ma’am don’t deny it

or wait 

not for long actually because they come off um physically

but not metaphorically

because who doesn’t wanna sit on his face tbh

your favorite reserved spot

he loves it

taeyong has such a thing for your body it’s ridiculous

mister lee got a sexy mama

and you have such a thing for the gloriousness that is him

but neither of you will not admit it as openly as other people would think

all there is... is being flustered

baekhyun probably has to play some cupid now and then

and give you some ideas

like gifting taeyong plushies and things like that

baekhyun knows what taeyong is all about so the advice is very welcome

but most things you find out for yourself

by being a little braver with him you know

you walking around naked in the apartment or basically fresh out the shower with nothing but a towel

will shake up taeyong so immensely, he will back himself against a wall without you even pinning him there lmao!

jeez he’s so deep into kinky stuff but easily shook anyway

i quote him again: “born to be cute, i dunno!”

you can imagine the overwhelm when you rub yourself against him like it’s nobody’s business

it’s so much fun to give taeyong a regular horny meltdown not gonna lie

this man was grinding his whole body all over the superm stage and now he’s basically freezing up and drooling

how many denied and ruined orgasms he’s gonna get, so much overstimulation all the way  

you’ll lose count of it

and just how wet you’re gonna be

is a thing for the history books

taeyong isn’t such a big deal in nct for no reason god gave him every talent 

so great sex is obviously in his repertoire

i think you’re gonna break some records for most fucks per week

you know... guys like lucas taemin kai and baekhyun spend more time wooing and teasing and flirting

but taeyong gets down to business

one glance is enough

⌈ lucas

— motto: the hottest couple around.

ah, big boy

you really got this man’s attention

doing nothing much at all really

he probably just saw you walking around talking to friends

carrying an impossibly huge veggie burger munching and enjoying yourself after going on a jog

yeah boy that’s how you catch his eye

they say love begins in the stomach and that is the true meaning

or the nose, your food smells really good, lucas is going crazy, he’s seeing stars and shit

anyway

the towering burger isn’t the only thing he wants

lucas cannot get you out of his mind no matter how much he tries to distract himself 

with more good food, movies, games

fooling around with wayv or the superm maknaes, and working out

he’s admittedly... a little himbo head over himbo heels with you the feels got to him

he’s not gonna say it’s a date he’s just gonna invite you just because

to hang out in the kitchen while taeyong cooks and baekhyun comes up with the idea to play twister

imagine lucas with his long arms and legs bending himself all over the place

fighting with kai who almost crashed his shoulders into taemin who avoided the accident quickly

making you lose a round

obviously lucas will hustle until your team wins

mostly because he’s so tall and baekhyun is so small which is a huge advantage when stacking each other over the map

let’s just face it baekhyun only suggested this game to bite everyone’s butts and to see you have skinship with lucas

which is definitely a successful plan of the leader

yukhei is in paradise 

jumping around his room like an oversized bunny after you went home

don’t lie, you fell hard for him as well he’s just such a presence

emotionally, physically

a gentle but persistent giant

he’ll do anything to make your relationship happen once he knows you’re interested

if there’s someone meant to be a boyfriend it’s gotta be him come on

he will cave in after a while and admit he can’t just forget about you 

not gonna lie

your ex is gonna be shaking in his ratty boots

his poor eyes will literally jop from their unexpecting sockets

when he sees lucas hanging out with you

with his shining blonde hair and tall stature, that perfect shapely body, with great fashion on top of that

looking like your guardian angel

man, xuxi really does

pulling you out of your slump that’s been going on for months

and bringing back smiles and a good time he knows how to do that best

and big big hugs of course

you can imagine how soothing and grounded it feels with such huge arms around you

he will make sure that feeling is always there when you need it

because you deserve that treatment

which means he will come over very very often

yeah get ready for how yukhei is a lot more driven than you think just dial and he will be there

underneath the meme surface is someone very determined who really really wants you

yukhei is chaotic good incarnate but in that area he isn’t messing around

his brain is like: “gotta be with her”

on repeat

he must call you, he literally can’t sleep without tying loose ends together as quickly as possible

no second wasted with this guy, even far down the relationship timeline

i really pity your ex 

i mean someone dating any superm member would drive their former partner completely nuts 

but lucas is a special case

he has that kind of look and aura that makes other guys dig themselves into the ground like wiggling worms or cope by fanboying over him

i don’t wanna make this sound like a competition and yet — congrats on your noodly blondie boyfriend alright

⌈ mark

— motto: two nerds in love.

how to explain this. mark is a perfect balance of a lover, a talker, and a shy bean

with a tendency toward bean

and flicking the bean

you know

cutting right to the chase are we

mark is very invested in pleasing you as good as he can

and defeating his awkwardness

because if we know one thing it’s that he always strives to become better and better like he can’t help it

and isn’t afraid of almost biting off more than he can chew

how many subunits is he part of at this point is it gonna be nct hollywood as well god dangit

back to the point mark doesn’t treat relationships and sex as something static which is a good and rare thing

he does his best and always looks for room to improve

while being very nervous, very bilingual, it takes two languages or more to express what he thinks about you let that sink in

that’s very shaky first date sex while being extremely in love with each other

lucky you

and an afterglow where he plays the guitar for you

that’s so nice 

he can play it while laying down and shit

while singing

not rapping, actual full-fledged serenading

we’ve heard how that sounds in the relay cam

are you dating some kind of teenage heartthrob or something huh

mark will make it very clear he’ll stick around, this bad bitch is here to stay

or actually, he’s a good bitch, don’t misunderstand

mark doesn’t have a lot of edgy in him unless rap is concerned

he’s the kinda guy to get lost in IKEA with 

having a good time 

as often as his schedule permits

you really have to make use of your time together 

this man might as well the busiest idol out there

and you are no different because birds of a feather

you’re both mr. and ms. independent 

out and about very often

so meeting up becomes something special during comeback season

or wait mark always has a comeback going on

which is a double-edged sword but something you both know you signed up for 

which is why you spend a lot of time around NCT dream, 127, and SuperM 

sm’s publicity agents have to work extra hard i’m telling you

a dating rumor is the last thing both of you would need

since you befriend several members you gotta stay on the low as well

but hey the rage of jealous people of the public is nothing compared to the force of nature that is yuta nakamoto

who seriously thinks himself threatened and robbed

in case you are feeling possessive as well...

...you might have to fistfight yuta

to be able to be with mark

who is basically property of osaka at this point

yuta is a scorpio that’s just the way it is

unlike taeyong who wishes his rap buddy the best, yuta kinda wants to be mark’s wingman and see him date, live his best life

but also have mark for himself to fawn over and to adore, to be fascinated by

we get it yuta. bisexual struggles. very understandable

you have to promise in person that mark doesn’t forget about the holy gaming nights with yuta 

which is hilarious since that’s not up to you but mark’s memory

bestie, yuta uses everyone as a scapegoat don’t sweat it too much

regardless you put a weekly reminder on the fridge

so the roaring lion yuta would be pacified

he doesn’t want to lose his sweetheart can you blame him

the ultimate but also most risky solution is obviously inviting yuta for movies 

which will be appreciated but also cause a storm

mark will definitely break a sweat when you start a popcorn war or try to prove who hugs mark the best 

caught in the middle of mayhem is mark lee’s specialty what did you expect

this either ends with murder or a chaotic open relationship down the line

yuta really is attached but who wouldn’t be

it could be worse mark has double the love you know 

⌈ baekhyun

— motto: you wanna know why i’m your candy?

baby tell me are you ridin’?

in fair verona where we lay our scene...

that baekhyun always wants to woo you — his way, which proves to be very interesting to say the least — is never hard to miss

putting in effort is mochi default mode 

no matter what stage of the relationship you’re in

he might as well regularly serenade you under your balcony in the backyard just because

probably singing ‘baby we can stay up’ and wiggling his ass in all directions because he’s a dirty boy gone wild

yeah. nowadays romeo is twerking instead of feuding with tybalt

that’s good for him and everyone involved

you in particular because you get some very racy eye candy

you know how baekhyun is

at least nobody’s around seeing him put on an 18+ show like that

your little guy is one unhinged fella

if it starts pouring he will grind up and down the next lantern and belt out ‘singing in the rain’

you bet he can do some actual pole dance

he’s strong and bendy you know

and loves to gyrate his whole bag of bones like... he wants to hit you with all the body rolls

in the rain

what a freaky man

but hey you wanna stay up for sure 

doesn’t take long until you beckon him to come upstairs

where the only way to alleviate him of his wet clothes—

oh well he has those roger rabbit vibes and you can’t be mad at it

he will play off all his hormonal antics

baekhyun is hilarious

and so perverted, he can keep up with your spicy idea of playing patty-cake don’t worry

how do i know you’re an extra nsfw kinda person?

who else would like baekhyun

he says juicy things all the time

and does juicy things

yes. finally a couple on eye level indeed. 

when baekhyun asks are you ridin’ you ask how hard 

bruh

this is gonna be fun

and remember

beside handing you sacks of money

his priority is always to make you smile

i’m kidding about the bags but

baekhyun is so rich it’ll show in your relationship, but he’s more about the interactions with you rather than the lifestyle

baekhyun didn’t hustle for a bentley he hustled to sing and get out of sm alive alright

financial stability: important

luxury: very nice to have, he can make you the presents you want to have and travel a lot together

but smiles: baekhyun priority

because he so badly wants to know you love him and adore him, he sometimes feels so insecure

of course you do

you always reassure him with your reactions

it’s very important to him don’t underestimate it

baekhyun has always been talking about his ideal type in terms of how he can cheer her up

so even the naughtiest sexy time evenings are gonna be filled with all giggles

anyway other than that your pussy will be dripping

because this guy is as horny as all other members of super m combined

and you have your ways of leaving him tongue-tied and wrists-tied

taemin’s impact

superm isn’t short of bondage supplies we all know that

so yeah. shibari baekhyun is gonna happen

since he does pilates imagine what kinda shapes you can bend this lil guy into

and take some pictures

privé is in trouble 

bondage model baekhyun is bursting onto the scene

you might even run a risque blog that features cropped pictures with him

heh — you think people will recognize him by his body?

nope

first: you only upload HD pictures that aren’t whitewashed

baekhyun is basically never photographed like that

second: who expects baekhyun to be featured on a bdsm blog with his girlfriend

and this is the guy that drives you around in his expensive car with his big black shades on 

well what can i say

nothing is the way it seems

⌈ taemin

— motto: i’ll unfold a whole new world for you.

taemin is cocky, he’s sensual, and: a very smiley person as we know

least boring relationship ever

he will prance toward you whenever he can to involve you in cuddles

touch-starved taemin is a thing

kkoong can tell you about it, he needs kisses and embraces so often

might as well pepper him with it no problem

and put him into your oversized sweaters when he eats ice cream on the sofa, watching movies, and you brush his ever-growing hair

he’s smol he’s gonna fit into them don’t worry

and on the other hand he likes a rough and tough girl who thinks of him like a boy toy

who acts tsundere or like his bodyguard

working out almost daily to the point of sweat all over

a gal probably able to pretzel minho lucas and chanyeol into one giant bundle

taemin truly has the taste of a divo

multi-layered as always

so you couldn’t say the relationship is always the same in sentiment, the vibe of the dynamic could be different every day

we love a complex man

what would be volatile to others is actually an advantage up close

because taemin understands every difficult facet of himself and his partner 

even if those facets might be contradictory

or something that’s felt shameful about

he will accept and listen anyway

the same goes for getting what drives you

taemin is like a walking psychology velvet couch with fancy swirls as arm rests

point is he isn’t fooled by the surface of the world

he knows what has to be known

which also means your looks aren’t the part he prioritizes

and not even outward personality and habit is what he’s drawn to

it’s the mentality and values underneath

that’s true compatibility to him and he can feel it

he’s really really smart

and also finds it important that you get along with shinee and superm, that you think they’re nice to be around and vice versa

especially kai as taemin’s absolute bearly bestie. if kai thinks you’re shady and you don’t like kai either

or if you’re permanently super awkward and taemin’s moodmaking doesn’t help

we have a problem

but fair enough

kai and taemin are basically one soul at this point so if taemin likes you jongin does anyway 

bff telepathy

in fact jongin was probably the one introducing you to taemin lmao!

because he knows you go well together instinctively and he is correct

so not to worry then

and it’s good on taemin to think longterm and not see you as a person outside of social interaction y’know

cough cough he thinks about marriage, you might be ms. lee one day

here he goes again taemin is just very mature seeing you as well-rounded in every aspect of life

without letting his dick make the important decisions at the detriment of making this a relationship of two lives not just two bodies only

but obviously don’t assume taemin is no horny devil. we all know he dreams of the freakiest scenarios and fantasies in this whole group

going kinda crazy about the thought of making you cum which he always wants to try with new methods

which occupies his mind more than a big bowl of super spicy noodles which is taemin’s favorite meal so

at the same time taemin junior is definitely the same clingy attention whore as his sparkly owner

limp wrists from all the handjobs on your side

and very swollen lips from giving all that head on his side

this is gonna be interesting

he puts the 6v6 in 69

equals 69v69 am i right

but i’m serious that’s gonna be a lot of oral action

you definitely ask each other about having sex very often, daily if you have the time and find a nice spot

and how on earth do both of you keep your hands off each other sleeping in one bed

taemin is touchy as hell with no shyness, and you squish squeeze and grope this guy like the mochi he is

ah when things go both ways

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[gukyi]

midas | jjk

summary: jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

{enemies to lovers!au, ceo!au, magical realism!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, angst word count: 32k (my hand slipped) warnings: alcohol consumption (brief), mentions of bruising and injuries, characters being emotionally constipated and afraid of commitment, your usual guyi e2l lineup a/n: finally!! oh god this fic took forever to write and just kept getting longer and longer. remember when i overestimated the wc by saying 25k-30k? yikes. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this monster! nothing says gukyi like a jk e2l fic, am i right?

The best time to be on the streets is just past noon on weekdays and eleven o’clock on Sunday mornings. When every working professional is out on their lunch break or weekend brunch, basking in the nice weather by choosing to fill up every outdoor dining area available to them. When they plop their bags, their purses and totes, on the chairs opposite them or onto the pavement beside them, thinking that the plastic fence that guards them will be enough to deter pickpockets and thieves. 

Unluckily for them, they usually fail to consider the prospect of someone invisible swooping in to steal the bills from their wallets, a nondescript force reaching into their purse as they stare down at their phones while they eat, forkfuls of to-go salads and pasta dishes stuffed into their mouths. 

Pickpocketing is a skill that the most desperate learn and the shameless master. Normally, people work in teams, one person to distract and the other to fish for the wallet, grabbing the cash and credit cards before tossing it onto the sidewalk and disappearing without a trace. If you wanted to be especially good at it, you would have to be able to complete the entire thing in less than thirty seconds, in the time it takes for people to switch trains in the subway stations. 

But when you work alone, you don’t get that luxury.

But you suppose that the higher powers above, whatever they may be, are relatively benevolent, because in exchange for your prickly personality, you were blessed with the gift of being invisible. 

Unfortunately, that’s something that you don’t need magic to feel. 

The truth is that it’s always been easy to ignore a girl who has no family, no friends, and no money. Living isn’t the hard part, living with purpose is. Nobody wants to pay any attention to someone who has nothing, literally nothing, to offer in return. At least, nobody interesting. 

The only times when you ever feel truly at peace are when you’re sleeping, and when you’re walking down the streets of the city, letting the rest of the world pass you by without sparing you a second glance. You’ve never been one desperate to stick out, to make an impression. Never been someone that people stop to do a double take at when they walk past you. Strange as it sounds, you love the feeling of being insignificant. It is, in a way, liberating. 

So far today you’ve hauled eighty dollars and a subway card from the wallet of some poor tourist standing outside of a bakery looking at a map the size of Jupiter. Some people you feel particularly bad about robbing, but a bald man with dad sunglasses and a fanny pack isn’t one of them. Besides, being pickpocketed is a classic tourist experience. You’re actually doing him a favor. Something to check off of his bucket list. 

You stow away the money and the card into your pocket, bills folded neatly into your raggedy jeans, rips and holes lining the fabric not for fashion, but from wear alone. You’ll make a mental note to buy yourself a croissant or something later. A treat to reward yourself for all of the hard work you’re putting in today. You’ll be able to pay off your phone bill for the next month with this money.

When the lunch breaks are over, you’ll probably retire to your bed and wallow in self-pity for a little before returning for the dinner rush. Having no life is a constant job, and you don’t even get any legally-mandated breaks to keep you going. Every moment you aren’t on the streets is another moment you aren’t making any money. It’s sort of like being a salesman, which, if you think about it, is just a legal way to rob people. When have salespeople ever sold something of real value?

With the eighty dollars on your mind, you start to scope out nice bakeries on your route, coffee shop signs and pastries on display in the window, looking for a nice place to settle down and buy yourself something sweet. Seeing as you live off of Campbell’s soups and bread from dollar stores, anything is an upgrade. 

You walk a couple more blocks before stumbling upon one of those picture-perfect bakeries, with pristinely decorated cupcakes and cakes lining the window display. You can tell that this place is good because there’s a line out the door and a little seating area that is packed to the brim. However, you are currently invisible, which doesn’t accommodate purchasing goods particularly well, but you make a mental note to return to the bakery a little later when people can actually see you. As if you’d ever turn right here, in front of all of these people. 

While you’re here, you decide to snoop around the line and the outdoor seating area to see if anybody strikes your fancy. Everyone standing either has their bag on their shoulder or their wallets gripped tightly between their fingers, so that’s off the table. But, there is one woman wearing a massive wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses as she chows down on a pink strawberry cupcake, her Louis Vuitton tote bag sitting a good two inches away from her, possibly even out of her periphery. 

Bullseye. 

There’s never a need to be stealthy when you’re already invisible, so you trot over, eyeing the woman to make sure that she can’t see anything in front of her. She doesn’t seem to be paying any attention, so you quickly reach down into her bag, a close watch on her gaze, hand fishing around amongst the receipts and the lipsticks and hand sanitizer until you feel her leather wallet. Nimble fingers fumble with the zipper until the tips come into contact with the crisp dollar bills, which you quickly nick and stuff into your pocket, bounding off without a trace. 

Halfway down the block, you surreptitiously glance at your haul—two hundred dollars!

That’ll be enough to last you and your phone bill for the next three months, at least. 

You’re so busy mentally applauding yourself for your pickpocketing skills that you don’t notice someone standing right in front of you. At least, you don’t notice until you crash into them, the surprise forcing you to turn. 

You sputter out an apology, hoping that whoever it is you’ve nearly run over isn’t observant enough to notice that the currently-visible thing they bumped into was previously invisible, and that’s when you notice exactly who it is that you’ve collided with. 

It’s the woman from the bakery, Louis Vuitton bag and everything. And she’s staring you down like there’s no tomorrow, arms crossed over her middle-aged chest as she sends daggers at you. Oh, you’re so fucked. 

“Sorry?” You say unhelpfully, already knowing the direction of this conversation. This woman wouldn’t be sending you a death glare if she didn’t already know who you are. They definitely did this just to trap you, set you up like a mouse and a cheese trap. 

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N,” she orders. “You must already know why I’m here.”

“I was hoping you’d let me off the hook?” You say guiltily, her hand already wrapping tightly around your wrists as she handcuffs you, sharp metal pressing against your wrists. One wriggle and you know that there’s no magicking yourself out of these. They think of everything, they do.

“Tell that to the courts,” she snaps, effectively shutting you up as she drags you away, money digging a hole in your pocket as you begin to envision yourself six feet under. You’re as good as dead, caught red-handed.

Well, life was good while it lasted. At least you might never have to have Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup anymore. 

There’s no such thing as an attorney in the Realm. No such thing as a fair trial (even if they say there is), no such thing as defense and prosecution. No grand juries, no crowds, no sketch artist. Just a judge with a stick up his ass and a punishment to be delivered. You’re either guilty or a liar. 

And you’re rather good at being both. 

“The charge is as follows,” says the burly man at the head of the makeshift courtroom, reading off of a piece of parchment like it’s 1433 and the printing press hasn’t been invented yet. “Burglary, possession of illegally-gained goods, and petty theft.” Because charging you for burglary alone wasn’t enough, apparently. You have a sneaking suspicion that they invented the other two charges just so they could have more to punish you for. “Does the defendant have anything they wish to say?”

“Don’t you guys have anything better to do with your lives?” You ask with a dramatic sigh, having already resigned yourself to your fate. “Like, you could be playing golf round after golf round instead of sitting here, charging an orphan girl with no money.”

“This is my job,” says the burly man. Clearly he has never done anything fun in his entire life. 

“Also, stealing is my only crime, right? So do you really need to punish me like I’ve murdered someone?”

“You burglarized a Realm Leader,” he deadpans. As if Realm Leaders really wear wide-brimmed hats, sunglasses, and carry around a three-thousand dollar Louis Vuitton bag on their days off. 

“You set me up,” you accuse. Might as well go out swinging. “What if I charge you for lying, huh? How will you be punished?”

“Anything else?”

“Fuck you,” you spit. 

The burly man sighs, thinks about the potential verdict for approximately two seconds, and says, “The court finds the defendant guilty of all three charges. Sentencing will now be arranged.”

Big whoop. You could sniff out your ’guilty’ verdict from three miles away, knowing that the Realm takes plenty of pride in charging its constituents for whatever crime that they can invent. You slouch back in your chair as the judge and his heartless buddies discuss your punishment. You suppose that being jailed might not be too bad—you’d always have meals and a place to sleep, even if you would have to give up magic in return. And community service would also be alright. You’d be fine with cleaning up the expressway that runs through the city, though knowing the Realm, they’d probably put you up to some stupidly dangerous magical task. And at this point, death seems rather inviting, and would solve everybody’s problems because they wouldn’t have to deal with you and you wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. 

The judge coughs, summoning the bare minimum of your attention. “The court has reached a sentencing decision for the convicted. We are offering you two options, of which you may choose one.”

Right, like you’d willingly volunteer for both punishments. 

“You may either be sentenced to serve time in the Realm Penitentiary for six months with the possibility of parole after four, or conduct supervised community service until the task at hand has been completed. Please select which option you would like.”

It’s like asking you to choose between being given one hundred dollars or having to pay one hundred dollars. What does the Realm think people will pick? Do they really think anyone in their right mind would choose to be jailed, forbidden to use their magic, and then let the Realm trick them into thinking parole is really an option, over some measly community service?

“Community service,” you say gruffly. 

“Excellent,” the judge says, writing something with a quill and ink because apparently, ballpoint pens are too complicated. “Your community service will be supervised by a Realm Leader with visionary powers, so you will not need to meet with them in order to discuss your progress, nor will they watch you in person.” And they said that crystal balls aren’t real. 

“What do I have to do?” You ask. Knowing them, it’ll probably be something like scrubbing all of the toilets in the Penitentiary, or going deep into the Amazonian forest to collect some magical sap or fighting off a magical beast. Something that could serve as a death sentence, or at least be extremely unpleasant, in the hopes that it’ll get you off of their backs. 

“The court will be assigning you as a minder to correct the ways of another mage,” the judge states. 

A minder? 

So, your community service is that you have to be a glorified magickal babysitter?

Well. It could be worse. 

“Alright, fine,” you say, though it’s not like you have a choice one way or another. Where was your minder? Why weren’t you assigned one, instead of just being hauled off by an undercover Realm leader to be sentenced for the same crime three times over? “Who will I be assigned to?”

The judge looks down at the parchment in front of him through his tiny old man glasses, and says, “Jeon Jungkook.”

Huh?

Jeon Jungkook lives on the top floor of an apartment complex the size of the Empire State Building and worth more than your entire life. There are ceiling-to-floor windows that span the entire perimeter of the penthouse, a whole security team in the lobby vetting every single person that walks through the automatic glass doors, and an elevator with a touch-screen instead of buttons. It sickens you, the fact that some people can live like this. The fact that some people have known only this world as their entire life, and have not once glanced the other way. 

Getting to Jeon Jungkook’s front door isn’t the hard part. The Realm gave you succinct instructions and permission to use your powers whenever necessary throughout the whole thing, two things more than you thought they would. It’s easy to slide by the big buff security guards when they can’t see you. Easy to turn in the comfort and privacy of the elevator, easy to figure out which door is his when he’s the only person who lives on the top floor. 

The hard part is getting there without feeling like you’re way in over your head. Getting Jeon Jungkook to stop abusing his powers will be no easy feat. He’s rich, powerful, and spits on people like you, people who are not either of those things. Not to mention the fact that if he really wanted to, he could just turn you to gold and set you up in his penthouse like a statue, frozen in time. 

For once, the only thing that makes you feel a little bit better is the Realm. They’ve handed you a strict order that neither you nor he can magic your way out of, lined with stipulations and regulations and requirements that both of you will follow or so help you God. If Jeon Jungkook doesn’t comply, he, his company, and his reputation are done for. 

So at least there’s that. 

Jeon Jungkook’s front door is made of a deep mahogany brown and about thirteen feet tall, towering over you just to serve as a reminder that he can pretty much afford to buy out the entire city if necessary. You feel like an ant in comparison, an insignificant little thing, no money, no power, no nothing. 

A fluorescent doorbell light flashes beside the door frame. 

The sound echoes throughout the hallway you’re standing in, a classic ding-dong noise that reverberates across the walls. 

“Coming!” A voice from inside calls. Is Jungkook expecting someone?

You quickly make any last minute efforts to look as presentable as possible—well, as presentable as someone who lives in a dilapidated, abandoned house at the edge of the city can be—before the door opens. 

For someone who’s got money to burn, Jeon Jungkook sure as hell doesn’t look like it. He’s wearing an oversized button down that hangs loose by his thighs, ripped jeans, and a pair of charcoal grey socks, like he got home from work five hours ago and decided to change into whatever feels most comfortable. 

“Oh, good, I called and they said that you would be another twenty minutes,” Jungkook says, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Let me go grab my wallet, you can just set the pizza down on the counter.”

“Uh, I’m not—”

Jungkook rushes off down one of the fifteen different hallways that branch off of the main living room, leaving you stranded as you wander into his massive abode. Windows line the walls, giving you a perfect view of the city below you, twinkling lights of skyscrapers as people slowly leave their offices and return home. His kitchen alone is double the size of where you live. How can one person possibly take up all of this space? Doesn’t it ever get lonely?

You wait awkwardly besides the counter, which is pizza-less, until Jungkook returns, a shiny black wallet between his fingers as he fumbles for some cash. And normally, you have zero qualms stealing from the rich and giving to the poor (aka, yourself), but seeing as he thinks you’re providing a service, you have the compassion to feel at least a little bit bad. 

Jungkook stops when he notices the bare countertop. “Uh,” he begins with a frown, “where’s the pizza?”

“I’m not the pizza delivery guy,” you explain hesitantly. You don’t suppose Jungkook would have opened the door otherwise. 

“Then where is the pizza delivery guy?” He asks, like you somehow know. 

“I don’t know,” you tell him. Was an interrogation supposed to be a part of this?

“Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” you say, hesitant to touch anything except the floor for fear that you will either dirty or break something and then spend the rest of your life trying to pay back the damages. “I’m your minder.”

“What?” Jungkook scrunches up his nose in disgust. “I never asked for a minder.”

“Well, you’ve been assigned one anyway,” you say with a frown. To be fair, it’s not like you expected this to be easy.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jungkook dismisses, already making his way to the door to shoo you off into the night, like he probably does with all of his problems. “I don’t need a minder. I’m fine.”

You look over his shoulder, noticing the flecks of golden accents that line his house, the golden teapots on shelves, picture frames hung up on the wall. Even the rods that hold up the massive satin curtains are gold. There isn’t so much gold to be garish and kitschy, like a teenager who can’t control what he touches, but enough to assert that he’s either wealthy or gifted, or in his case: both. 

“That really sucks, because I’m still your minder,” you tell him, refusing to budge. Jungkook can’t possibly imagine he’ll somehow be able to get out of this. Not when the law is working against him.

“Says who?” Jungkook spits back. 

“The Realm,” you tell him rudely, manifesting the agreement the Realm had given you to force Jungkook into accepting. The parchment is laid out on the countertop, curling up at the edges, black ink written neatly on top of it. He glares at it suspiciously, as if he’s suspected that you forged it. When you make no efforts to explain yourself further, he takes a hesitant step forward, eyes narrowing in on the parchment sitting in front of the both of you. In pitch black ink, loopy calligraphy, it says this:

As recommended and required by the Realm, its leaders, and its government, the recipient, Jeon Jungkook is to be assigned a minder, whose duty is to watch over him, regulate his use of magic, and work towards decreasing his magical activity. 

This minder is being assigned as a result of misuse of magic by the recipient, either by abuse or from the intent to inflict harm upon mages or non-magic users. The Realm decrees that all mages who disobey the laws that govern society either be reformed or punished. 

This minder must ensure that the recipient makes progress towards decreasing his magical activity by indefinitely accompanying and supervising him for every hour of the day. This minder’s term will expire once they have achieved their goal of decreasing the recipient’s use of magic and ensuring that abuse of it does not reoccur. 

Should the recipient disobey this proclamation in any form, including vandalism, ignorance, or rejection, he will be brought to court and sentenced to jail accordingly. 

Jungkook seems to read the parchment for about five seconds before crumpling it up in his hands and tossing it into the trash bin by the edge of the counter. 

“Absolutely not,” he scoffs. “I do not need a minder. I don’t know what The Realm told you but I have no problem with my powers and your services are not required. There was probably some sort of mistake.”

As if. The paper says his name. Jungkook’s almost as bad at violating the rules of the Realm as you are. 

“Uh—” you begin again, but Jungkook is already shooing you out of his penthouse, flicking you away like an animal that’s gotten too close. You find yourself backing up furiously in a desperate attempt to not be trampled by him and his oversized button-down and intimidating death glare, until you’re a foot out of his apartment. 

“Maybe you can go bother someone else instead,” he suggests unhelpfully, before slamming the door in your face. 

You stand there for a few more seconds, face to face with the dark mahogany wood. The bright side is that, even if Jungkook only read the first paragraph of the decree and then tossed it into his recycling bin, there’s no escaping the Realm. You have half a mind to just bugger off and let him face the consequences of his own actions. You can picture it in your head: Realm officers barging into his place of work and arresting him on the spot for consciously disregarding an order of the Realm. That might satiate you for a while. 

Resigning yourself to the fact that if you knock on Jungkook’s door and politely suggest that he pull the parchment out from the trash and read the whole thing will probably not go down particularly well, you turn, letting your body vanish before you, before making your way back to the elevator. The pizza delivery guy arrives just as you reach it, letting you easily slide past him as he goes to make Jungkook’s day a little better by being an expected guest rather than an unwarranted visitor. 

Jungkook may not have agreed to this today (not that he has a choice in the matter), but there’s always tomorrow. 

Passing by the security, who spare no second glance at the fact that the automatic glass doors have just opened seemingly by themselves, you turn left when you reach the sidewalk and head home. 

Home is a janky abandoned house at the very edge of the city, where the buildings meet train tracks and old highways, graffiti decorating every open surface within a five-mile radius. It’s not so much a house as it is a shack, old and rickety and forgotten. You think that the locals and the nons believe the place is haunted, since no one ever comes within one hundred feet of the entrance, the broken glass in the windows and big red spray-painted X on the door deterring most folks. 

People who invite you into their houses and say, “it’s not much, but it’s home,” are such liars. For as long as you have lived here, this place has never felt like home. You never come back from a long day and think, ah, home sweet home. You will never dream of wasting away within these walls. That’s a death sentence. 

You enter through the back door, ducking your head low to avoid hitting it on the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling by a wire or two. You’re not electrically-proficient enough to know how to fix it yourself so it’s less of a fire hazard, and you don’t have nearly enough money to call anyone to come repair it, so there it stays. It still works, though, and you use it in a pinch when you can’t see where you’re stepping. 

There’s a small pile of folded clothing on the floor by the mattress, the remnants of a past life that feels more like an alternate universe than it does part of your history. The fridge doesn’t work, nor do most of the utilities, but the little stack of Campbell’s soup cans on the countertop is reliable and unchanging. As is the fact that you will probably never get out of this dump, so long as you shall live.

When you were little, you used to dream of living in a big castle, and wanting for nothing. You would have people to cook for you, clean for you, dress you, bathe you, entertain you. All of these stories about being a little princess, doted on and loved by all, innocent and pure and beautiful. All of these stories about finding Prince Charming, meeting the love of your life as waltzes into your life on a gorgeous white horse, getting married, having kids, and growing old together. You dreamed of a perfect life, a perfect love, where you never have to worry about anything, where no one is ever mean or rude, no government to dictate what you do. 

It’s no wonder all of those stories were simply fairy tales. 

It makes you even angrier when you think about Jeon Jungkook. He’s lived a life as close to perfection as possible, born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a silver platter placed in front of him. He’s grown up with people adoring him, telling him he can do no wrong, rewarding him with a brand new toy when he gets in trouble, teaching him that his powers are for himself first and for other people next to you. Not much is fair in the world, but especially not the fact that he was bestowed with the gift of being able to turn whatever he wishes into gold. 

He is everybody’s Prince Charming: wealthy, handsome, powerful. Too bad you aren’t a princess anymore.

Strangely enough, even after a long day, you aren’t feeling at all hungry. The scent of the pizza Jungkook had ordered to his door was enough to satisfy you, a warm feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Normally, this late at night, you might even be daring (or sleep-deprived) enough to break into one of your precious ramen packs, but instead you collapse onto the mattress, heavy heart willing you fast asleep, the light flickering above your head. 

The next day you are faced with a choice: leave Jungkook alone and let him deal with the repercussions of his actions on his own (much to your delight), or go back and continue pestering him until he agrees to having a minder (much to your chagrin). 

A new parchment has manifested itself on the counter, words copied from the one Jungkook threw out before your eyes. It shimmers, almost as if there’s a golden halo that surrounds it, another trick that the Realm has up its sleeve. You have a feeling that this one won’t be as easily ripped, crumpled up to be tossed into the nearest trash bin. It terrifies you—how closely they watch. You suppose that it was only a matter of time before they caught you. 

Quite frankly, you’re shocked it took them this long to realize you were a serial pickpocketer in the first place. 

As much as you’d love to see Jungkook get arrested and tried for defying the rules of the Realm, see his face plastered all over the newspapers and tabloids with stupid headlines like JEON JUNGKOOK: CRIMINAL? and ARRESTED FOR HAVING TOO MUCH MONEY?, and count it as a personal win, letting that happen would mean that you would have failed to do your court-ordered community service, which is a one-way ticket to prison. 

So even if Jeon Jungkook was the grouchiest, greediest, cockiest person in the entire world (which, judging by what you know about him, he probably is), and even though you would happily let his career and reputation plummet, you don’t have a choice. The two of you will either go down together or not at all. 

Resigning yourself to the fact that you will have to be within close proximity to Jeon Jungkook for the foreseeable future, you rally yourself out of bed, tugging on what you deem to be your nicest clothes and splashing your face clean. The rags you have on are probably worth a cent of what Jungkook wears on a daily basis, crisp suits and silver watches and golden earrings. He could spit on you and that would increase your net worth. But surprisingly enough, there is something empowering about the fact that Jeon Jungkook will no longer be able to ignore the plight of those in a lower class than him. Not when he, a person who has everything, will be forced to reckon with you, someone who has nothing. 

It’s easy to find your way to Jungkook’s place of employment. It’s this enormous skyscraper with his name in a golden serif font above the entryway, marking the entire building as his own. It isn’t garish and ugly, per se, but it definitely makes a statement. This, combined with the cool, chic design of his penthouse apartment, redeems him a little. At least he has taste for someone with money to burn like fireworks. 

There are two massive security guards and a whole squad of receptionists standing guard inside the building’s lobby, dressed pristinely and narrowing their eyes at anybody who dares enter. You wait across the street for a few minutes, loitering outside of a coffee shop and trying to avoid having people bump into you, watching. The only people that seem to be worthy of entering are wearing suits and dresses that cost more than what your abandoned house could sell for on the market after being restored, nodding their hellos to the security guards and receptionists as they press the elevator buttons and disappear into the building. You and your thrifted blouse would be laughed out in an instant. 

Lucky for you, you happen to have a rather foolproof method of getting yourself through those doors, and it mostly involves the fact that nobody can even see you. 

You rush across the road at the next green light and wait until you see someone heading in, the grand glass doors automatically opening when they register someone’s presence. It’s easy to slip in undetected, and you hang around in the lobby, secretly judging every single person that walks in after you. You could, quite honestly, spend all day in here, watching the receptionists tap away at their keyboards with robotic efficiency, answering calls left and right and fielding all sorts of questions from folks entering. It’s a world you have never dared step into, a world filled with wealth and power and class hierarchy, with Jeon Jungkook sitting on a pile of money at the very top of the pyramid. 

Some of the people that work in this building will never in their entire lifetime get the chance to speak with him. They will come in, day after day, working for someone who they have no personal relationship to, someone that they will never be afforded the chance to meet. 

Those people are, in your opinion, dodging a bullet. 

If only your life was as kind to you. 

A nervous young man walks in, clearly more out-of-place than anyone else. He seems to have barely bypassed security, flashing some sort of pass that lets him through the doors, but if a breeze came blowing through the lobby, he’d topple right over. He stumbles towards the receptionist desk, all of whom have phones to their ears as they furiously type on their keyboards. One woman holds up a hand, making him freeze in place. If he grinds his teeth any more they’ll all fall out before he even gets a chance to speak. 

It’s another two minutes before the lady puts the phone down and says, “How can I help you?”

“I’m—I’m, uh—I’m here for a meeting,” the man fumbles out. You’re embarrassed for him. 

“With who?” The woman asks, peering over the glasses resting on her pointy nose. She begins to look over the list of people who have meetings. It must be a rather extensive list. 

“Mr—Mr. Jeon, ma’am,” the man sputters. 

She looks doubtful. “Your name?”

“K-Kim…” he begins, staring down at his feet, “Kim Taehyung.”

“And your business with Mr. Jeon is?”

“I’m—uh, well, I’m a photographer for… for an article being written about him by F-Forbes,” he explains rather helplessly. He must have superb photography skills to make up for his extreme nervousness. You’ll be surprised if he makes it all the way to Jeon Jungkook’s office without wetting his pants out of fear. 

The lady hums to herself, looking suspicious until she finds the man’s name on her list. “Mr. Jeon’s office is on the top floor. Make two lefts and then a right. You will have to wait to be called.”

“Thank you v-very much.” He scurries towards the elevator, and you strike while the iron is hot. 

Rushing over, you manage to squeeze into the elevator right before the doors close, waiting patiently in the corner as the man tries to calm himself down, doing some sort of breathing exercise. Well, he’s got plenty of time to put his nerves aside, seeing as this building has seventy floors and Jeon Jungkook is apparently at the very top of them all. You feel bad for him, in a way. Jeon Jungkook was rude and unapologetically uncouth when you spoke to him, even if an aura of professionalism and extremely good social skills surrounds him at all times, and you don’t cower in fear at the sight of him. 

There’s no telling what he’ll be like when Taehyung walks into his office. 

One tense elevator ride later, the both of you arrive at the seventy-fifth floor, the silver doors opening to reveal a busy office space filled with people near the very top of the building’s pyramid. People like his secretary and accountants and managers, people who come into direct contact with Jeon Jungkook every day from nine to five. In a way, you pity these people for having to deal with him, but it’s not like you’ll be any different. 

Taehyung rushes out and you make sure to follow before the elevator doors crush you, following the receptionist’s instructions. Two lefts and a right. 

Jungkook’s office, much like his apartment, is not hard to miss. His name is written on a plaque on the door, and a guard stands outside with a clipboard, regulating everybody who passes in and out of the room. The walls that surround him are glass but he keeps the blinds drawn permanently, so that no one has the pleasure of seeing his face while they work tirelessly to impress him. Taehyung gives his name to the man, who checks him off on the paper on his clipboard before entering the room. 

“Sir, your 12:30 is here,” the guard says. 

Taehyung looks about ready to pass out. 

“Let them in,” Jungkook’s voice bellows in response. The man nods to Taehyung, who trembles where he stands, twiddling his thumbs like there’s no tomorrow. He shuffles in awkwardly and the door shuts behind him. Luckily, the walls are sound-proof. 

The thirty minutes of waiting is agony. You have nothing to do but rehearse in your head how this next conversation is going to go down, the scroll burning a hole in your back pocket. If Jungkook was displeased at best to see you in his apartment, you can only imagine the horror on his face when he sees you’ve infiltrated his workplace as well. Especially since you don’t have even a fraction of the money and power needed to enter the building on more professional terms. 

The good news is that, no matter what Jungkook says, no matter how many times he kicks you out of his penthouse and his skyscraper, he has no choice but to accept the deal, regardless of how long it will take for him to realize this. You never thought you’d ever be relying on the Realm to carry you through a predicament, and nor did you ever think you’d be doing their bidding, and yet, here you are. 

The door opens at one o’clock on the dot. 

“Th-thank you so much for your time again, Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung says, bowing profusely as he heads out. “I really appreciate it, you—you won’t regret it, I promise, thank you again!” You quickly rush towards the door, even making to hold it slightly open for Taehyung as he heaps his thanks on top of Jungkook. In the split second it takes for Taehyung to let the door go and for it to shut, you slip inside. 

“Finally,” Jungkook huffs out to himself, hand rubbing against his forehead. He’s not wearing a suit like you had expected, rather, a silken button-down shirt and tailored slacks. He doesn’t even have a tie. 

Well, you suppose that being your own boss has its perks. 

Jungkook’s stomach growls. “Fuck, I’m hungry.” He presses a button on the phone in his office. “I’m taking my hour lunch break now,” Jungkook informs the person on the other end. “Put all of my meetings on hold until two o’clock and not a moment earlier.”

He hangs up the phone and runs his hands through his hair, neatly straightened and styled. You hate to admit it, but there’s no wonder the man has captured the hearts of people all over the city. He’s rather good looking, the flecks of gold scattered around his office complementing his swirling brown eyes, making them look like caramel instead of cocoa. You have a hunch that, in the eyes of the general public, unattractive people instantly become good-looking the moment that they acquire wealth, power, fame, or all three, but Jeon Jungkook doesn’t need any of those things for people to think he’s beautiful. To him, they’re just bonuses. 

He turns around for a moment to look for something, probably to fish his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, and you turn. Nothing says hello like magically manifesting yourself in his office. 

“Jesus fu—!” Jungkook practically jumps out of his skin when he sees you. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m your minder,” you explain again. 

“I told you I don’t need a goddamn minder,” Jungkook spits out, turning around again just so he doesn’t have to see your face. “Get out.”

“Sorry, no can do,” you say, rocking back and forth on your feet. “Realm’s orders.”

“Fuck the Realm,” Jungkook says. “I don’t need a minder. Your services are unnecessary. Now get out, before I call security.”

You purse your lips. “You may want to think twice about that.” With a flourish, you whip out the scroll, a golden yellow glow still surrounding the parchment, handing it to Jungkook like a Christmas cracker. He snatches it out of your hand and unfurls it. “You should probably read the whole thing this time. It won’t rip like the last one.”

Jungkook glares at the paper like it’s ruined his life—which, judging by his attitude, it probably has—as he scans over the words, scowl worsening with every second that passes. 

“You shouldn’t frown like that, it’s not a good look on you,” you chide. At least Jungkook knows that there’s no bribing his way out of this one. 

“I told you I don’t need a minder,” he says again like it hasn’t already been made abundantly clear. 

“Well, I didn’t want to be assigned to you, but unfortunately, it looks like neither of us are going to get what we want,” you retort. “It’s this or prison, Jeon. You pick.”

“Why the fuck were you assigned to me, then?” Jungkook asks, rounding on you. “What are your powers?”

“Healing and invisibility,” you spit out. Not nearly as glamorous or lucrative as his own, but they come with their own benefits. For example, the ability to infiltrate high-level, upper class places of employment. “Maybe they thought I’d make a good babysitter since those are two skills often used with children,” you tell him pointedly. 

“I don’t need a minder,” Jungkook repeats for the umpteenth time. “I don’t misuse my magic or abuse my powers.”

“Uh,” you point out, an eyebrow raised skeptically, “I think I’d like to beg to differ.” There’s more gold in this room than miners probably found in San Francisco in the nineteenth century. The fact that nons haven’t noticed the abundance of it in his office is outrageous to you. How else do they think he and his family built up this empire?

“Please,” Jungkook says with a frown. “As if we don’t all use our powers for our own benefit. Huh? What did you do that was so terrible that you had to be assigned as my minder?”

“I pickpocket,” you explain economically. No point in sugar-coating it. Jungkook has probably already figured out you don’t come from nearly as much money as he does. “And I got caught.”

“Sucks,” Jungkook comments callously. 

“Sucks for you, too,” you fire back. “You got caught as well. Agree to the terms or go to jail, Jeon Jungkook. I don’t care. But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

You stand there in silence for a few more seconds, letting your words dissipate into the air, sinking into the ground. Jeon Jungkook seems to have this furious battle within himself, brows furrowing as he rubs at his chin, pacing back and forth behind his desk. He knows he doesn’t have a choice. He goes to jail and his reputation is soiled. The Realm repossesses all that he has made of himself and he must start from scratch under their ruthlessly watchful eye. There will be no recovery. Only survival. 

Or, he deals with you for a couple of months until the Realm is satisfied with the both of you, and you both go on your merry way, never having to see each other again. 

You know what you’d pick if you were in his shoes. 

“Fine,” Jungkook spits out, pointing an accusing finger your way. “But you are to be invisible whenever we are in public, and that includes here.”

“Done. But you have to decrease your turning otherwise we’ll be stuck with each other forever,” you negotiate. “I’ll also have to come and live with you. Can you handle that, or are you too ashamed to have someone else inside your home?”

Jungkook scoffs. “I live in a penthouse the size of a museum. Pick whatever bedroom you fucking want. I doubt we’ll even see each other.” At least there’s one upside to having to stay with him in his massive residence.

“Fine,” you spit out, just for good measure. 

“Fine,” he counters back. Like anything about this conversation, this agreement, this goddamn life you have to live, is fine. 

Yeah, right. 

Jungkook’s penthouse is much more magnificent when you are more than two steps in the door. From where you had stood before, barely just past the door frame as he crumpled the parchment in his hand and tossed it into the trash bin, you hadn’t been able to see it in half its glory, let alone in full. When you can stand in the center of it all, eyes darting from the hallways and archways and spiral staircases leading to a rooftop pool or gym or both, it is overwhelming. Suffocating. 

His living room alone is larger than anything you have ever lived in, anything you have ever had the pleasure of calling your own. The ceiling is sky high and completely glass, streaks of sun shooting down and casting its rays on his chic furniture, deep hardwood floors. You’re so busy looking up that you nearly trip on a white rug laid out on the floor. 

“There are four bedrooms down that hallway and two down that one,” Jungkook says gruffly, flinging his keys into a bowl resting on a shelf and shrugging off his jacket, letting it hang over his forearm. How could one person possibly take up all of this space?

“Where do you sleep?” You ask. 

“That’s none of your business,” Jungkook says with a frown. 

“There’s no point in not telling me,” you remind him helpfully, “there’s only so many places you can be.”

Jungkook sighs. “It’s upstairs. But you can just sleep in any of the empty ones down here.”

“Thanks,” you deadpan. 

“Is that all you brought?” Jungkook asks with a raised eyebrow, looking at the backpack hanging loose off your shoulder. The zipper’s broken, so the outer flap is in a constant state of being folded over, but it works. 

“What, did you expect a moving truck?” You retort. 

“Ugh, forget I asked,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders as he turns away from you. He begins to point around the room. “There should be some ready meals in the fridge if you’re hungry. TV’s always set to the news, but feel free to change it. Volume shouldn’t ever be over forty. Books are alphabetized by the author’s last name. No parties, though I don’t imagine you frequent those.” 

You can’t tell if that’s a jab or just him being observant, but either way, it’s true. You don’t even have any friends. 

“Fine, anything else?”

“Every bedroom has an ensuite bathroom,” Jungkook informs you. “So use that one. Don’t come into my bedroom. There’s more than enough space here for the both of us to go without seeing each other, so let’s keep it that way.”

“Aw, you mean I’m not allowed to wake up to your handsome face and infectious attitude every day?” You pout sarcastically, making Jungkook scrunch up his nose and frown. “Don’t forget that the only way you’re gonna get me out of here is if you listen to the Realm and follow my rules.”

“Yeah, which are?”

“You’re not allowed to turn at all when I’m around, whether or not you can physically see me. Every time you do is a strike. Three strikes—because I’m generous and forgiving—and I’ll report you to the Realm. The whole point of me being here is to make you stop using your powers all of the time.”

“It’s not like I’m doing any harm to people,” Jungkook defends. “You steal, what’s your excuse?”

“You use your power to add onto your already-enormous bank account,” you point out crudely. “I use mine to survive. It’s different.” Jungkook isn’t convinced. “But it doesn’t matter anyway, because I got caught and so did you and now we both have to deal with the consequences.”

He huffs to himself. 

“So do we have a deal?” You ask, glaring up at him, unrelenting. Jungkook’s chocolate brown eyes flicker as the gold around his house reflects off of his irises, like he’s trying desperately to find a way to get himself out of this before it’s too late. 

What he doesn’t realize is that the very first moment he ever turned something to gold, the very first time the object began to shimmer and spark, he was already too far gone. 

You suppose that in a way, so were you. 

“Fine,” Jungkook gruffs out, a veiny hand held out towards you. It’s stiff and cold, much in the same way that his penthouse is, that he is. This is not an agreement birthed from choice. It came from necessity, out of self-preservation. He is doing this to protect his reputation. You are doing it to protect your freedom. If all goes well, after a couple of months the two of you will never have to cross paths again. Oh, doesn’t that sound lovely? “Deal?”

You grab his hand in your own, squeezing tightly. There is no going back from this. 

“Deal.”

On the bright side, being a minder has finally given you something to do instead of stalking the streets and wasting away on your mattress on the floor. Granted, office life isn’t that much more entertaining, but at least you don’t have to be out in the summer heat anymore. 

As per your side of the deal, you remain invisible whenever Jungkook is out in public, which, quite frankly, is less frequently than you had originally anticipated. His entire life seems to go back and forth from home to work then work to home, an endless cycle, a Newton’s cradle on repeat. Maybe that’s why he’s such a prickly asshole—he doesn’t ever make time for things he enjoys. 

You thought he would at least have business dinners or fundraising events or company galas to attend. Isn’t that what most CEOs do? Flaunt their wealth to other wealthy people? Jungkook has so much money that he could easily entertain himself by one-upping all of his fellow CEO friends at every event he goes to, flashing the Rolex watch on his wrist or the fancy Italian shoes he always wears. 

But no. He wakes up, gets dressed, eats a meal from the ready-made ones wrapped in foil in his fridge, and goes to work. When he comes home, he takes off his suit jacket and shoes, eats dinner, and lounges around his penthouse. Works out sometimes, maybe watches a movie. 

Being rich always seemed to be a lot more fun than what Jungkook makes it out to be. Maybe it’s because everything in modern media is completely fake and wholly unrealistic. Or maybe he’s just purposefully making his life boring because you’re here now. 

But even if the only two places Jungkook ever goes are work and home, his personality doesn’t seem to change no matter what location he’s at. All of his employees are simultaneously frightened of him and desperate to please him, lowering their heads when he passes by their cubicle but placing finished report files and completed tasks at the edges of their desks for him to glance over as he does. You follow him like a wearied assistant (of which he actually has three, and you are just the annoying invisible one) and he acts like you aren’t even there. When Jungkook returns home with you carelessly traipsing in after him, turning visible the moment he closes the door, he shrugs off his outerwear and goes back to doing his very favorite thing in the whole world: pretending you don’t exist. 

At least that hasn’t changed since you moved in. 

The bright side is that Jungkook hasn’t turned at all since you’ve shown up. Not in his penthouse and not at work, though he is usually far too busy dealing with real-world issues to dwell on whether or not he’s got enough gold to his name. The answer is that he does, but he doesn’t give a shit about that. Too much is apparently never enough. 

Even if you are invisible, being in an office setting is somewhat unsettling to you. From a people-watching perspective, you love it, because you get an entire building of people to observe and judge, but from a personal perspective, it’s just another reminder of a life that you are not meant to live. 

All of these people in their ties and pencil skirts and uncomfortable leather shoes, fighting to beat each other out for the next promotion and desperate to please their absolutely unpleasable boss. A nine-to-five job, day in and day out. A fat check in their bank account every month. These are things that are both undesirable and unattainable to you. A glimpse into their lives doesn’t spur you to pursue a career path like theirs, it tells you that no matter what, you won’t ever be able to do what they do. 

“Sir, here are the finished analysis reports on the Lee Corporation joint stockholdings,” a proud young man says, plopping it down on Jungkook’s desk as you watch on in silence. The not-speaking part has been rather difficult, but you do get to whisper annoying things into Jungkook’s ear whenever nobody’s around. 

“They are completed?” Jungkook asks without even looking up at the man, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Did I not ask for them to be completed by Friday?”

The man goes white in the face. 

“Uh—” he begins, immediately losing all confidence he had when he entered Jungkook’s office. “Well, I—”

“I don’t appreciate belated work,” Jungkook spits out. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The man nods and scurries out of the office before Jungkook can say anything else. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Wow, couldn’t even say a ’thank you’?” You chide. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?”

“Late work is unacceptable,” Jungkook says. You’re lucky that his blinds are always drawn, or everyone would see him talking to apparently nobody. “There are no exceptions.”

“He was a day late,” you point out. 

“Three, if you include weekends.”

“That doesn’t make a difference; he wouldn’t have been able to turn them in over the weekend,” you tell him. 

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Jungkook orders sternly. He looks angry, but also foolish, because even though he can judge where you’re standing from the sound of your voice, he still can’t meet your eyes. He’s staring holes into the succulent plant on the shelf to your right. 

“I’m not,” you defend, annoyed. “I’m telling you how to be a nice person.”

“I don’t need lessons on that, either.” Jungkook frowns. “He turned in work late and was reprimanded. It’s not any different than what happens in school.”

“But you didn’t even thank him for his time or for showing up to your office, or for the fact that he did the work!” You cry out. 

“What should I be thanking him for? For making the thirty-feet trip from his desk to my office? For turning in work that he was obligated to do late?” Jungkook challenges. “He had to do those. He wasn’t doing me any favors.”

“Except he was, because if he didn’t do that work, then you would’ve had to do it,” you remind him. “Everybody here is doing work because you aren’t able to do all of it yourself. And that’s not your fault—there are only twenty-four hours in a day and you are only one person. But you should be thanking them for their contributions. Even when they turn in something a little late. It’ll do wonders for other people.”

“Are you implying that people don’t like working here?” It’s like he wants to keep this fight going. 

You sigh, loud enough for him to hear despite being a good few steps away from him. “I’m saying that everybody out there—” you say, opening the blinds that cover the walls ever so slightly, just enough for him to see out into the sea of people that sit outside, “—everybody wants so desperately for you to like them. Or at least outwardly display that you don’t hate them. And if you just said please and thank you every now and then, people wouldn’t be so afraid of you.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, he shuts it like a trap and sits back down. He probably doesn’t really appreciate the fact that you’re directing him on how he controls his office on top of how he uses his magic. But it’s the truth, and he had to hear it one way or another.

“I didn’t ask for suggestions on how to run this office,” he spits out. “Next time I think advice like this is warranted, I’ll ask.” Which will be never.

“I’m here whether you like it or not,” you stand your ground. Jungkook gets to put up with you no matter what! “So I’ll tell you whatever I feel is necessary.”

Jungkook scowls. 

“Don’t frown, it ruins your pretty face,” you tease. You walk a couple of steps and lean over to stretch his lips into a smile. He stiffens up, clearly having lost a sense of humor alongside his patience. “That’s better, don’t you think?”

“I can’t wait to get rid of you,” he bites. 

“You’ll have to get rid of that attitude, first,” you counter. “Or neither of us are going anywhere.”  Entitlement and greed go hand in hand. There’s no way you’ll be able to get Jungkook to stop turning everything around him into gold without giving his personality a makeover as well. Somewhere in there is a decent human being.

You just aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to find him.

The time spent at home is less eventful. Besides you, Jungkook has no one to shout at and be rude to, and in any case, he, for the most part, avoids you entirely. Which is understandable but totally counterproductive, because if you never interact, neither of you will ever get what you want. 

Still, there is plenty to keep yourself busy inside of his penthouse. He’s subscribed to every streaming service under the sun and has a movie theater-esque surround sound system lining the walls. He has more books than some small town libraries. His internet is stupidly fast. Even if this setup is temporary, you sure as hell aren’t going to waste a second of it. 

It is sort of weird to eat food with golden forks and knives, though. You always think you’re going to crack your teeth on your utensils. 

You and Jungkook aren’t on speaking terms right now because an hour ago you caught him turning a vase in his office gold, the metal slowly wrapping around the base of the pot like pixie dust, sparkling and shimmering as the clay was overlaid with a deep, lustrous yellow. It increased the value of the vase tenfold and sent the both of you flying back to square one. 

“Jungkook, what the hell?” You had shouted, storming into the room as Jungkook’s face turned beet red. “Just because I’m not sitting in the room with you doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever you want.”

“It was just one pot!” Jungkook had defended himself. “I’m not even going to sell it or anything, it just looks nice. The room needed something extra.”

“I’ve upheld my side of the agreement, what’s so difficult about upholding yours?” 

“Oh yeah, like telling me how to do my job even though you have no experience in business whatsoever?” He had challenged. “I don’t think I agreed to that part of the deal.”

“Strike one, Jeon Jungkook,” you had spat out at him. “Otherwise there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to get rid of me.”

Granted, the vase did look much better in gold than it did when it was made of clay, a glazed design of ferns and vines wrapping around the base. But even if Jungkook does have a particularly good eye for interior design, it doesn’t give him a free pass to turn things just to match his chic aesthetic. How many other things has he turned when you weren’t around to shout at him? You’ll have to go through his entire house every day, taking stock of every single item inside of it, making sure that nothing has inexplicably turned to gold.

Defeated, you had returned back to the main living room, flopping around like a beached whale on the leather. Jungkook always has the television set to the news, so you put it on in the background as you count the minutes until you’re finally free. Judging from what’s happened so far, you think you’ll be here forever. 

There’s a knock on the door. You don’t recall Jungkook answering any buzzes to his home, but maybe he’s just ordered a pizza or something and it’s here. It’s nearly dinnertime, anyway. 

You wait a few seconds to see if Jungkook’s going to make any attempts at answering the door himself. When the knock repeats itself and Jungkook still doesn’t appear, you hop off of the couch to get it yourself. You’re hungry, and pizza sounds delicious right now. A massive upgrade from Campbell’s soups. 

When you open the door however, there is no pizza delivery guy behind the door. Instead, there is an extremely well-dressed couple who are smiling happily at you, albeit a little surprised to see you on the other side of the door. 

“Hello?” You ask, polite but confused. 

“Hello!” The man says happily, chortling to himself. “Who might you be?” One good look at the two of them tells you that they’re Jungkook’s parents. His dad has the same nose, and his mom has the same big, bright eyes. They would kick you to the curb if they knew who you were. 

“I’m Y/N,” you explain unhelpfully. 

“Well, Y/N, do you mind letting us inside? The air conditioning out in this hallway has always been too strong,” his dad asks. You nod awkwardly and step to the side, letting the two of them in. “Ah, looks the same as always. You must give Jungkookie that interior designer’s number, alright? He could do something much nicer with the place,” he tells his wife, who nods in agreement. She passes by the bowl that Jungkook always throws his keys into when he returns home and presses a finger to it, letting gold wrap around the edges until it’s transformed into the metal. 

“Jungkook!” You shout down the hallway, desperately hoping that he isn’t going to leave you alone with his parents. 

“What?” He shouts back. 

“We have visitors!” You call. 

Jungkook’s parents are already picking out all of the things about Jungkook’s living room layout that they would change, turning picture frames here and decorative sculptures there gold, careless and without reason. You’re standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying your best to look as unsurprised and as normal as possible. Luckily, you haven’t been interrogated yet, but there’s no telling what will happen if Jungkook doesn’t show up yet. 

Two minutes later, Jungkook comes strolling down the hallway, clearly uninterested, but his eyes practically bulge out of his head when he sees who’s come to say hello.

“M-Mom! Dad!” He sputters out, terrified. “What—what are you doing here?” He asks, looking at you nervously. You shrug unhelpfully. All you did was answer the door. 

“Came to pay our wonderful son a visit, of course!” His father says, guffawing loudly. He reaches an arm out and pulls Jungkook into a crushing hug. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, I mean—” Jungkook begins, speechless. “I wasn’t expecting you at all, you know.”

“I know!” His mother cries happily. “But you know that families must always stick together.”

“Yeah…” he trails off. “Listen, it’s really nice to see the both of you, but I’m kind of busy at the moment—”

“We should stay for dinner!” His mother suggests, a lightbulb going off above her head. “We haven’t seen you in so long—we have so much to catch up on! What do you say, honey?”

Jungkook’s father looks peachy keen. “Sounds like a great idea! And you can introduce us to Y/N too, hmm?”

“Okay…” Jungkook says. He turns to you and you’ve never seen him so caught off guard. With his big, wide eyes, he’s a deer in headlights. “Just, uh, give us a second, would you? Thanks.”

That’s the only warning you’re given before Jungkook is pulling you down the hallway and into the nearest bedroom, slamming the door shut behind the both of you. The sound of the wood hitting the frame makes you jump as Jungkook furrows his brows and turns to face you directly. 

“Alright, here’s the deal,” he says, looking you dead in the eyes as you stare up at him, unimpressed. “My parents can’t know that I’ve been assigned a minder. They just can’t. They’ve trusted me to run this business and to be in control of my life and I don’t even want to think about what they’ll do if they find out why you’re really here.”

“Okay, so?” You say with a frown. “I’ll turn invisible. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“But they’ve already seen you, you opened the goddamn door,” Jungkook says with a sigh, clearly exasperated. He rubs his forehead before his hand makes its way through his hair, brushing through the long, dark strands. 

“Well, sorry for not wanting to leave whoever was outside hanging,” you retort. 

“No, it’s fine, whatever,” Jungkook says. He paces around the room slightly, eyes glossing over the still life painting hung up on the wall and the door to the walk-in closet. He pauses in front of it for a moment, thinking, before he rounds on you. “Can I trust you to pretend to be my girlfriend for just one night while they’re here?”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Please? They seem to already be under the impression that we’re dating anyway, and I don’t want to have to think of a different explanation for you,” Jungkook pleads. He’s desperate. 

“Let me get this straight: you want me, your minder, to fake being your girlfriend for your parents?” You ask, punctuating every word. This is worse than actually being his minder. 

Jungkook nods. “Just while they’re here. And then we can go back to avoiding each other. Please?” 

And for once, when you see Jeon Jungkook’s stupidly beautiful face, you don’t feel angry, or resentful, or envious. You feel… sympathy. It’s easy being rich and powerful, even easier when you don’t even need to work for your money, but parents are parents, no matter how much gold is in your pocket. 

Besides, it’s not like you rejecting him will have much of an effect on the grand scheme of things, anyway. You do, and then Jungkook has to spend an awkward night with his parents and you won’t accomplish anything. 

“Fine,” you say, begrudgingly so. “But only for tonight.”

“Oh God, thank you,” Jungkook says, and he actually means it. He dashes into the walk-in closet and pulls out a summery day dress, all flowy and floral, coming down to right above your knees. “Here, put this on. You know I don’t give a shit about what you wear but my parents will.”

“Why do you have this?” You ask, holding the hanger in your hand. One touch of the fabric and you can already feel the craftsmanship, the material sturdy and soft.

“An old hookup or something, probably.” Jungkook shrugs, nonchalant. 

You decide not to question whether or not you are about to wear something that Jungkook has had sex with someone in and head into the closet to change. From inside, you can hear Jungkook pacing back and forth in the bedroom, no doubt trying to come up with a believable story as to why you’ve suddenly appeared in his life and where you had come from. 

When you emerge, Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. This dress is easily the most expensive (and clean) thing you’ve ever put on your body, draping seamlessly along your hips and smoothing over all of the parts of your body you’ve never been too fond of. The sensation is pleasant but uncomfortable, as you have always vastly preferred your own clothes to other people’s, but wearing this at least doesn’t make you feel like you live in an abandoned house on the edge of town. 

“Wow,” Jungkook says dumbly, looking at you with his lips parted like a fish, mouth agape. He scratches at the nape of his neck and coughs. “You look kinda good.”

“How thoughtful of you to say,” you chide, basking in the feeling of finally catching Jungkook off guard. 

“Hopefully my parents won’t be here too long,” Jungkook says as he opens the door, letting you exit first. “Normally, they stick around just long enough to tell me about all of the things in my life that I’m currently doing wrong or should improve upon, and then they leave.”

“Fun.” It doesn’t sound very fun at all. 

“At least this time they won’t be grilling me about a girlfriend,” Jungkook says, offering you a grateful smile as you return to the main living space, where Jungkook’s parents are in the middle of turning some of the decorative trinkets on his shelves gold. “Sorry,” he begins, catching his parents’ attention. “We were just talking. Y/N had to change.”

“She looks lovely in that dress, did you buy it for her?” His mother asks. You send a small smile of thanks. 

“Yes, of course,” Jungkook lies. You think not knowing the origins of this dress is best for both you and him. He shuffles the both of you into the kitchen, an awkward hand on the small of your back. If you were a third party watching the two of you, you could sniff out the fake gestures and affection from a mile away. No two people in love are this stiff around each other. 

His parents wait in the living space, blissfully ignorant, as the two of you fumble around in the kitchen in a last-minute attempt to scrounge up something resembling an acceptable meal. You, admittedly, do not use a kitchen fairly often, and stick to pouring the four of you some wine as Jungkook fishes through his fridge and cabinets. He eventually decides on heating up a pre-made pasta dish, filled with all sorts of vegetables you couldn’t name even if you tried. It smells good, at least. 

For someone who seems to rely entirely on a personal chef to do most of his cooking, Jungkook knows his way around the kitchen fairly well, bouncing from one end to the other as if he’s running on a mental timer. Granted, he isn’t actually cooking anything, but compared to you, he may as well be a top chef at a five-star restaurant. Ten minutes later and he’s got a mouth-watering spaghetti dish, topped with vegetables and what looks to be an herb garnish, a side salad, and four glasses of wine that you so expertly poured. 

Unfortunately, with his parents around, you and Jungkook don’t get to go through your usual meal ritual of sitting as far away from each other as physically possible and not talking whatsoever, sitting down next to each other in his fancy suede dining chairs as his parents take the two seats opposite you. Jungkook’s dining table only seats six, despite the sheer size of his actual dining room, and quite frankly, you have never seen him actually use it for what it’s meant for: dining. 

“Delicious, did you make this?” His father asks, already reaching over to serve himself some. 

“Y/N helped.” No you didn’t.

The serving utensils then move to Jungkook’s mother, who does not turn them into gold, instead opting for a baby tomato, which she places in her drink to serve as some sort of extremely niche ice cube. You can’t imagine how good that will taste. Jungkook’s father laughs at his mother, who is obviously proud of herself. Jungkook forces himself to chuckle ever so slightly, and you crack a very helpless smile. It doesn’t really take a genius to figure out where Jungkook got his turning habits from. 

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s father begins, catching you right as you shove an entire forkful of pasta into your mouth, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk getting ready for the winter, “how long have you known our son?”

“Uh, a couple of—”

“A couple of months,” Jungkook interrupts, speaking louder than usual. “We met at the Park Gala that they hosted, do you remember?”

You kick Jungkook’s shin under the table, making him wince. 

“Ah, yes.” His mother nods in recollection. “Unfortunately we were on that cruise through France, so we couldn’t make it. A shame, we would have loved to meet you then. Are you a friend of the Parks?”

“An associate,” Jungkook explains as vaguely as possible. “Y/N works in law.”

“Ah, law,” Jungkook’s father says romantically, twirling his fork around in the air. “The conscience of business.”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing out a small laugh. The less you say, the better. Though it is ironic that you now apparently work in law, considering your favorite activity is breaking it. You suppose that nobody knows the law better than its criminals. 

“Where are you from, Y/N? Do we know your parents?” This is starting to sound less like a dinner conversation and more like an interrogation. 

“Y/N actually built herself up,” Jungkook covers for you. Lord knows revealing your true background would send both of his parents storming out of the building. “She doesn’t like to talk about her parents very much.”

That’s one way of putting it. 

“Ah, what a shame,” his mother tuts, shaking her head. “We’d love to meet them.”

“Yeah…” you agree distantly, making a mental note to give Jungkook a good shove when this is all over. Well, two can play at this game. “Jungkook is teaching me a lot about how you guys run your business.” You add pointedly, earning a leg kick in return. “It’s very interesting to see from a law perspective.” More like from a human perspective. 

“Oh, you must be very impressed,” his father says proudly, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “We’ve all worked extremely hard to get where we are.” Because turning things to gold at the press of a finger is truly such a taxing job.

“I’m certainly surprised,” you say back, sending a patient but stiff smile their way. They return the favor easily. Maybe you’re more like these people than you thought. “It’s a big change from what I’m used to.” Jungkook smacks his leg against yours, and you retaliate not a moment afterwards.

“I’m sure,” his mother says, voice sickly sweet. “But you’ll be able to adjust in no time. It’s definitely a level up, is it not?”

Jungkook looks like a lost child in a grocery store aisle, eyes wide as they flit back and forth between you and his parents, hurling thinly-veiled insults at each other like it’s nobody’s business. 

“It’s different,” you respond. 

“Well, I’m sure that Jungkook is doing all that he can to accommodate you,” his father says. “Sometimes the people he chooses to date are… not ideal for this sort of lifestyle. We hope that you are able to adjust quickly. We understand that this is a lot.”

“I certainly hope that I’m a good match, then,” you finish, because something inside of you can’t bear to let Jungkook’s stuffy, elitist parents get the last word. 

The rest of the meal is rather silent, save for a few mindless comments about how poorly Jungkook’s decorated his dining room. You and Jungkook have been warring underneath the dinner table all evening, your shins undoubtedly sporting bruises, because apparently everything the two of you are saying to his parents is wrong. Jungkook’s parents either don’t know or don’t care, because they don’t say anything about the tension that settled over the table like a cloud of fog, thick and potent. 

When everyone’s finished eating, Jungkook’s parents head straight to the door, determining that their contributions to his evening and his penthouse are enough—for now. Who knows if or when they’ll return. You and Jungkook have no choice but to see them off, rounding out the night just as you started: fake, empty smiles. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Y/N,” his mother tells you, hand clutching her purse. “I hope that we may see each other again sometime soon.”

“Yes, I am looking forward to it,” you say with glee, knowing that the chances of you never having to speak to her again are well in your favor. 

“Nice work, son,” his father says, a heavy hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Just let us know if you ever need anything.”

“Will do,” Jungkook promises distantly. You can tell that Jungkook doesn’t ask his father for advice too often. 

You bid your goodbyes and Jungkook shuts the door behind them, and it’s almost as the atmosphere immediately begins to clear, the air conditioning cycling out the tension, like a breath of fresh air. 

“Ugh, thank God that’s over,” you huff out, already itching to get out of this dress and back into your own clothes. It was gorgeous at first, but now it’s just an ugly reminder. 

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Jungkook says. 

“’Wasn’t that bad’?” You repeat. It’s as if the words went in through Jungkook’s one ear and right out the other. “Are you serious? It was unbearable. Your parents were judging me from the moment I opened the door. No wonder you’ve never had a lasting girlfriend. I couldn’t think of anyone who would want to deal with that.”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook says, rounding on you as fire burns in his eyes. “What do you mean, ’that’?”

“I mean that I don’t know how on Earth people just accept the fact that in other people’s eyes, they’ll never be good enough?” You tell him like it’s obvious, because it is. This sort of life has been so ingrained into Jungkook’s head that he doesn’t even recognize it as unwelcoming and stifling. “I couldn’t stand being your girlfriend. Your parents are judgy and rude, and you all act like people who don’t come from as much money and power as you have no business sitting where you sit.”

“So your best approach was to shade and insult my parents in return?” He combats. “I would hate to be your boyfriend. My parents get more aggressive when people fight them, but you shove me under the table when I try to get you to back down? Just so you can have the final word to two people you’ll probably never see again?”

“The fact that anyone has dated you astounds me,” you tell him. 

“The fact that nobody’s dated you doesn’t astound me,” Jungkook spits back. 

You frown, embers flaring in your boiling blood. What, did Jungkook think you were going to enjoy yourself tonight? By pretending to be some sort of ditzy, desperate-to-please girlfriend? “You’re welcome for doing you a favor and not just straight up telling your parents you’ve been assigned a minder because you can’t handle your own powers. Don’t expect me to do it again.”

“I’m not planning on it,” Jungkook mumbles to himself, just loud enough for you to hear. 

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

You and Jungkook march down opposite hallways, desperate for this night to be over. You tear off the dress and let it sit at the foot of the bed, taunting you. 

There is no way in hell you are ever leaving this place. 

The time spent at work is allocated half towards following Jungkook around like an invisible puppy with a personal vendetta against him, making sure that he doesn’t turn, and half towards wishing that something actually interesting will happen. Jungkook runs so tight a ship that nobody ever seems to want to do anything fun or exciting, no doughnuts, no inside jokes, no pranks. Just an endless cycle of trying desperately to please the unpleasable.

Admittedly, nowadays, you don’t really mind being here as much as you used to, when you would mentally criticize every person that walked through the glass doors to Jungkook’s office, hands filled with stacks of paper and manila folders, plopped onto Jungkook’s desk one by one. Jungkook’s started to keep extra food up in his office, the mini-fridge by his bookshelves constantly filled with takeaway salads and fruit. Apples are a definite no-go because they’re too loud, and you can only ever risk eating salads when nobody’s around to hear you pop the plastic top off of the container, but other than that, it’s nice.

Jungkook has pretty good taste in food, too, which is an added bonus. Though anything is a leg up from what you normally eat.

And even though you’ve begun to start roaming around, exploring the nooks and crannies that line the clean-cut layout, your favorite place to be is Jungkook’s office. He’s got these magnificent floor-to-ceiling glass windows, with a view directly over the biggest park in the city, thousands of feet up in the air. From up here, it almost feels as though you’re looking down at a different world, a different universe. It’s difficult to imagine that everyone down there, every ant-sized person walking along the sidewalk or resting on a park bench or ordering from a food stand, has lives of their own.

Especially when they are but specks of dust in yours.

Jungkook looks at this view forty hours a week. You wonder if he ever gets sick of it.

The door to Jungkook’s office creaks open as you’re staring out of the windows, watching as the clouds pass overhead. They look like little white dogs, like cotton candy, like angel wings.

“Mr. Jeon?”

The owner of the voice is the same man you berated Jungkook for shouting at a few weeks ago, the one who had turned in an analysis report a day late. He seems just as frightened of Jungkook now as he did back then, and it makes you wonder if any of Jungkook’s employees aren’t afraid of him.

“Here’s the completed budget report for the Lee Corporation for last fiscal year,” the man says, reaching a trembling hand out to lay a manila folder on Jungkook’s desk. Jungkook only looks up once he sees it out of his periphery, hand pausing mid-write, pen still hovering over the papers on his desk.

He meets the man’s eyes, and when he does, he cracks a small smile, this sort of barely-there grin, lips curling upwards ever so slightly. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

It’s as if the man has won the lottery. He thanks Jungkook quickly before bouncing out of the room, steps much lighter, like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. You watch as he leaves the room, a smile etching itself onto your face. It’s rather incredible what a simple ‘thank you’ can do to people.

You don’t say anything to Jungkook, instead just turning back around to gaze out of the window. There’s an entire city below your feet, one that bustles around like bees in a hive, everyone with a place to be and things to do. There is this strange but comforting feeling of insignificance, one where you feel as though you could disappear and nobody would notice a thing. The rest of the world can and will move on without you. But that doesn’t mean that your life means nothing. It means that your life can be whatever you want to make of it, because in the grand scheme of things, nobody else will know what you have done.

History is like that, too. You must be remarkable to be remembered. But that doesn’t mean the unremarkable people were forgotten. They touched lives, too.

Staring out the window as the clouds swim over the sun, a light grey shadow casting itself over the park, you feel at peace.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

You jump at the voice, Jungkook’s presence next to you having gone totally unnoticed. You didn’t even hear him get up from his chair.

“How did you know I was here?” You ask.

“I could sense it," Jungkook says with a grin, making you raise an eyebrow. You’re invisible. “I’m kidding, I saw you come over here a bunch last week when you first got into my office and I figured you’d probably still be here.”

“You figured correctly,” you tell him.

“You know, I don’t spend enough time looking out these windows,” Jungkook admits, and you aren’t sure if it’s to you or himself. “I’m always staring at my computer or writing something at my desk with my head down. I’ve got the best view in the whole city and sometimes, I don’t even remember what it looks like.”

“You work hard,” you tell him, because that’s something that is undeniable about who he is and what he does. “But you deserve to give yourself a break, every now and then.”

“For lunch breaks, the first thing I do is get out of my office. I spend all day in there and when it’s finally time for me to put work on pause, I rush out of the room like it’s on fire,” Jungkook comments. “Maybe I should stay up here every once in a while instead.”

“It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere,” you joke.

“You can, you know,” Jungkook tells you. “You don’t have to stay up here all day.”

“I know,” you say. “But I don’t really mind it. I like being here. It’s calming, in a way.” In a way that you can’t explain. Like you’re stuck in freeze frame while everyone else moves around you. Like you’re watching a movie about everybody’s lives but your own. Like you’re a spectator in your own body. “Plus, the view is gorgeous.”

“It is,” Jungkook agrees.

You stand there in silence for a few more moments, the only sounds filling the room your inhales and exhales, soft and slow, your hearts beating in time. Jungkook is more than a foot away from you but here, in his office, looking out over the world, he has never felt closer.

“Thank you,” you whisper, letting the words hang in the air in front of you.

“For what?” Jungkook asks.

“For listening to me.”

You feel Jungkook turn to you, and when you dare to look up at him, you meet his hazy brown eyes, warm and sparkly. He looks like a goddamn celebrity, like a magazine cover come to life, crisp shirt collars and fancy Italian shoes, glossy brown hair and perfect skin. He smiles at you, this homey sort of thing that makes you feel like summer is running through your veins, like the rays of the sun are pressing against your skin.

“Of course,” he tells you.

Jungkook is a lot of things. He’s unabashedly gorgeous and outrageously wealthy. He walks around like he owns everything that he touches. His house is clean and chic and minimalist, almost like nobody lives there at all. He’s determined and a workaholic, and hates admitting when he’s wrong.

But maybe, just maybe, in the white afternoon light of his office, the rest of the world underneath his feet, standing next to you as the two of you stare out in a city you call your own, he’s not that bad.

Being alone in Jungkook’s penthouse is, to put it lightly, absolutely terrifying.

It’s hard to believe that Jungkook--and maybe a girlfriend for a brief period--has occupied this entire space on his own, no one else to talk to, no one else to spend time with, no one to occupy his massive couches or fill up the chairs in his dining room.

You’ve always wondered why rich people buy the biggest houses. Sure, it’s because they’re rich, and because they can afford it, but it’s impossible for one person, or even two, to make the entire place feel like their own. You leave countless rooms untouched, meant for guests that you never have and parties that you never host. It’s like you’ve moved into half of a house, a quarter of a mansion. What’s the point of having so much space if you don’t ever have anyone to fill it up?

Normally you wouldn’t leave Jungkook’s side, following him around the city whenever he has errands to run or needs to dash back to work to pick up something he had forgotten. But Jungkook hasn’t been turning anything lately, even when you sleep in four hours later than he does, even when he stays up into the early hours of the morning while you pass out before it’s midnight. It’s like he’s somehow lost the will for his magic entirely, like it’s vanished from his body.

Well, you’re not complaining. That just means you’re one step closer to finishing your sentence.

Jungkook’s penthouse feels bigger when he’s not around. Even though you hardly ever see each other while you’re at home, the mere knowledge of his presence makes you feel like you’re not alone. Makes you feel like there is someone else in this little corner of the world.

Everything in here has always looked untouched. Like it doesn’t belong to anybody, like a house listing come to life. His marble counters are always empty, his cabinets always closed and organized. His books are always alphabetized and the stack of art books on his coffee table has never been touched. All of the bedrooms look like they belong in a hotel. The bathrooms look like they belong in a museum.

Jungkook’s house has never felt like a home but then again, neither has yours.

Still, if you had to choose between living in your abandoned shack at the edge of town or living in an enormous penthouse in the center of the city, you would never look back at that old, dilapidated building. The difference between you and Jungkook is that Jungkook chooses to live in this tragically empty place.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand Jungkook’s life. Not just the technicalities of the company he runs, the economics and business that he has spent his whole life mastering, but also the way he sees the world in terms of money and power, how everything has some sort of value, even people. Even you. His biggest concern has always been himself. How much money he has matters, how many investments his company owns matters, how the public views him matters. He has spent so long crafting this perfect image of himself that he’s willing to spend as much money as necessary to maintain it. 

Jungkook doesn’t even look at the total on the card reader when he purchases things. He simply tugs his silver card out of a sleek black wallet and swipes, crumpling the receipt up in his hand before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. He comes back home to a gigantic penthouse with a gym and his pool and more bedrooms than he can count on both hands, to a personal chef in his kitchen making him five-star meals to last him the rest of the week. 

Money is never on his mind, but it is always on yours. 

When will you get enough to pay off your phone bill, will you ever be able to afford a repairman to fix the broken, exposed lightbulb above the back door, how many Campbell’s soups can you buy and still have enough funds to last you until the next day? What if, God forbid, the city comes knocking on your door and either evicts you or orders you to pay up for the three years you’ve been living in that house, rent-free? What will you do then?

Life is by no means easy for either of you, but Jeon Jungkook has never had to want for anything. If it isn’t handed to him, he works for it himself. If he can’t buy it, he’ll just make more money. If he doesn’t already own it, what’s stopping him?

People dream of having Jungkook’s life. People fear having yours. 

Alone in Jungkook’s apartment, the differences between the two of you have never been clearer. 

Your greatest fear is the fact that, in the past few weeks you have spent here, you are already becoming used to it. You are dreading going back to where you were before, stealing money from people off of the streets and living in a house in such disrepair that local nons think that it’s haunted. You fear that you will never want to leave. 

It’s such a terrifying feeling, isn’t it? Becoming attached to something. Feeling as though your life will be worse without it. Knowing that your life will be worse without it. 

There are parts of you that make you wish that life wasn’t so unfair. 

The living room is three times the size of the dining room but you hate eating there, sitting at an empty table with no one to talk to but suede chairs, reminding you that you don’t even have any friends to invite anyway. At least in the living room you can sit on the couch and watch television and pretend that you have at least some semblance of a life. 

You pick at a pre-made salad that has too much lettuce and not enough everything else—Jungkook needs a new chef, you decide, plucking out all of the croutons and slices of cheddar cheese, when the front door swings open, slamming against the wall adjacent to it as Jungkook storms inside. 

“Oh my God, what happened to you?” You exclaim, eyes practically bulging out of your head as you jump off of the couch. Even from here, you can see the dark bruising around Jungkook’s eye, purple and blue, the busted up knuckles clenched around the bag he’s carrying. There’s even a small streak of blood on his upper left cheek, already beginning to scab. 

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he says, wiping away the blood on his lip with the back of his hand. 

“No, you’re not,” you tell him, rushing up to meet him in the middle of the foyer, standing in front of him as you look up at his face with wide eyes. He waits there patiently, avoiding your gaze, steely eyes looking elsewhere, as you reach up to hold his head in your hands, tilting it from side to side. “What happened to you?”

“Some dudes jumped me in the parking lot on the way back,” Jungkook says casually. You’d almost believe he didn’t feel anything if he doesn’t wince when you press a gentle fingertip along the bruise on his jawline. He meets your frightened expression and smirks wickedly, something glinting in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I got ‘em good.”

“Are you alright?” You ask him, even though it’s obvious he’s not. “You aren’t seriously injured or anything, are you?”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a sigh, even as he obeys your movements and moves his body pliantly to the feeling of your hands pressing against his skin. Most of the visible damage seems to be to his face and hands, and quite frankly, you’re not exactly sure if you want to see what’s underneath his dress shirt. “I’m strong. I work out and eat healthy and everything. I’ll be better in no time.”

“No, are you kidding?” You say, reaching out to grab his hand without a second thought, pulling him towards the nearest bathroom. “You can’t just leave it like this. Here, let me heal you.”

“I don’t need you to patch me up or anything,” Jungkook resists, frowning as you sit him down on the edge of the bathtub and begin to fish through his bathroom cabinets. “First aid isn’t in that one.”

“No, you idiot,” you chide him. “I’m not gonna patch you up. Aren’t you forgetting that I’m a healer?” 

“So what are you gonna do, then?” 

You finally find the first aid kit and pull it out, revealing rolls of gauze and bottles of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant. There’s even a couple of rows of Ibuprofen. “Well, you should be patched up anyway,” you decide, turning back to look at Jungkook’s face as he waits obediently on the edge of the tub. “But I can heal you faster than what time and medicine can do on their own.”

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook says softly. 

“Please, of course I do,” you reply instantly. You’re not gonna let Jungkook walk around like that. “We can’t have your pretty face all messed up, now can we?”

Jungkook cracks a small smile but it’s obvious that the simple gesture alone pains him, making him wince slightly as his lips turn upwards. You wet a face cloth with cold water and press it against Jungkook’s bruises, looking intently at his features as you move the cloth around, letting the cold water draw out the heat that sizzles beneath his skin. Jungkook watches you the whole time, his eyes never leaving yours, even as your brows furrow in concentration, determined to fix Jungkook back up so he’s brand new. Slowly, the bruises begin to fade, going from an angry violet to a light lavender, and then to a pink that could almost be mistaken for a heavy blush.

It feels weird, knowing that he’s right there. Knowing that he’s watching you, eyes following yours as they scan his face. His clean-cut jawline is a little swollen, perfect skin angry and marked, but his eyes are still the same. Still wide and bright, like a young child, like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. They look almost caramel in the yellow light of the bathroom, flecks of gold to mirror the accents in the room. 

There’s something about them that makes you not want to turn away. 

When the bruises have faded, leaving only petal pink remnants along his skin, you move onto the small cut along his cheek. It’s rough and jagged, like the skin had been torn right through, a nick from a fingernail or a knuckle. It’s not long, but it is somewhat deep. You imagine it might scar permanently. 

Kneeling down in front of him, you pull out some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad, dabbing a gentle amount onto the round before moving closer, holding his head in your hand as you reach out. 

“This might sting,” you say, like he doesn’t already know. 

“That’s alright,” Jungkook tells you. “Fix me up, doctor.”

At his cue, you softly press the cotton pad against the scab, rubbing away at it until it comes off cleanly, leaving only fresh, exposed skin behind. For wounds like these, a cloth won’t do. Your mother used to tell you that healing didn’t come from your hands, it came from your heart. That even if your fingertips had the magic, it was your heart that had the power to wield it. 

Slowly, you rest your palm against his cheek, rubbing your thumb along the cut. Jungkook blinks, big eyes shimmering, as you do so, and you feel trapped in his gaze. Like you couldn’t turn away even if you tried. Like you almost wouldn’t want to. His skin is baby soft, perfect, a far cry from the calloused pads of your fingertips, worn from so many days and nights out on the streets. 

There is magic in your fingertips, surely, but there is something different in your heart. Something that you don’t think you have the words to explain.

The cut seals up instantly, the skin patching over itself until nothing is left but a mark, a little scar that will stay there forever. And yet, you stay there, locked in his magnetic pull, like tearing away will hurt you rather than him. The cut is healed, and his bruises are fading, and there is no reason to stay like this. 

And yet. 

“There,” you whisper, watching the words appear between the two of you, lingering like ghosts. “All better.”

Jungkook grins. It doesn’t hurt him, but something in you feels a sharp jolt, an ache. Like a spark in the pit of your belly. Like magic in your veins. 

Jungkook has been tearing his hair out over this one manila folder in front of him for the past twenty minutes. Every ten seconds he writes something down before scribbling it out, the ink bleeding through the paper to the next one. He flips through the files relentlessly, carelessly, until they’re all out of order and splayed all over his desk. He’s instructed the guard outside not to let anyone in, even if it’s some sort of emergency. 

You’ve seen Jungkook at work a lot, but you’ve never seen him like this. Even his anguished sighs are difficult to listen to. 

Creeping over to the wall that overlooks the rest of the office, Venetian blinds shielding the both of you from view, you crack open a slat, peeking out at everyone else. None of them pay any attention to Jungkook’s office, too busy worrying about the next report they have to complete and all of the office meetings they have to attend, so you take it as a good opportunity to turn visible. Just for a little bit. 

“You alright?” You ask, nearly making Jungkook fall out of his seat at the sound of your voice. 

“What?” He asks, surprised. “Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“What’s the matter?” You ask, because you’ve never seen Jungkook as stressed out as he is now. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to organize this new collective to monitor our investing habits so we can assess where investments need to be divvied up into in order for clients to find us worth of their own investments as opposed to other companies,” Jungkook explains, though he sounds positively exhausted while doing so, like the very mention of what he’s slaving over is enough to send him over the edge. “But no one can agree on how we can use this information to promote this company to our clients and the public. People invest in both of us either way.”

“You want people to invest more money in your company, don’t you?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, yeah.” 

“How much money does this company give to small businesses? To nonprofits and charity?”

Jungkook frowns, scrunching up his nose as he thinks. He clicks around on his computer for a few seconds before saying, “About five percent.”

“And your investments are public, correct?”

“Yes.” Jungkook nods. 

“You should be giving way more than five percent of this company’s investments to small, local businesses and charity,” you tell Jungkook, already worming your way behind his desk to look at what he’s looking at. You point to the numbers on his screen, single-digit percentages, some even less than one, being sent to local businesses, nonprofits, and charities. “Look at this. Ninety-five of your investments go right into stocks. If you invested more money into nonprofits and local businesses, people would see you taking the time to help boost the local economy and the organizations that serve it for free. Then, those businesses would invest in you in return, and clients would see that you’re investing in noble causes and give you more money as a thanks, which can then be funnelled back to small businesses and nonprofits.”

It’s a rather roundabout sort of proposal and you’re almost positive that it has no real footing anywhere in real economics and finance, but it makes sense to you. If you had money to invest in major companies, you would choose the ones that invest in the things that will benefit you, like local businesses and nonprofits. If you saw that the companies you were giving money to were simply giving it away to the stock market, you’d pull your money out. 

You know that the stock market is nothing but the world’s biggest economic gamble, but that doesn’t mean that you have to gamble with it. Companies that stand for what you stand for are much more appealing than companies with a bigger investment bank behind them. 

You turn to Jungkook, who is squinting at his computer screen as he fumbles around with the numbers, flicking from Excel sheet to Excel sheet, bouncing back and forth between the information online and the files on top of his desk. 

“Is that stupid?” You ask, breaking the silence. It’s not as if people know you for your groundbreaking economic policies. 

Jungkook spares one more glance over all of his files, and turns up to look at you. “No,” he tells you with a shake of his head. “It’s not.”

“Really?” You’re actually impressed with yourself. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees happily. “You’re right—I’d want to know that my investments were going to a company with good morals that lifts up local businesses. It would encourage me to invest more, too.”

“It’s not a very sound economic theory…” You admit. Jungkook’s probably seasoned in how investments and the stock markets work, charts upon charts of client behavior that shapes the way he organizes his company. And you? You don’t have enough money to even buy food some days. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jungkook assures you. “Theory is total bullshit anyway, because nobody can predict what will happen with the economy. But human nature has always been reliably good. People like to know that their money is going to a good cause.”

“So, it helps?” You ask with a smile. 

Jungkook nods. “It does. It’s actually a great idea, Y/N. You might have a future in business.”

You scoff. “Me? I don’t know the first thing about this stuff.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t need to. You’re a good person who thinks about everyone, Y/N. That’s why you’d be good at business. Because your clients can trust you, and you’ll actually put your money where your mouth is.” 

“I guess,” you say unhelpfully. Just because you think about others doesn’t make you especially remarkable. It makes you human. Isn’t that how everyone’s supposed to be? “I just don’t think about clients and money like you do. Money’s always been really valuable to me, since I’ve never had much of it, but you guys see it as expendable. I need to know where my money goes, I don’t want to see it just vanish into the hands of someone else.” Jungkook’s nodding along, eyes looking intently at your own, like he’s committing the words you say to his memory. “I just think that people and companies with tons of money have a duty to give back to those who are less fortunate. That’s all.”

“That’s noble of you,” Jungkook says. 

“It’s just common sense,” you explain. “Why wouldn’t you want to do something like that?”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, a long, winded sort of one, like there’s a whole conversation behind it that he wishes he could have with you. But instead, he just shakes his head, a fond smile lacing its way across his features. He chuckles to himself. “Maybe you aren’t cut out for business after all, Y/N,” he tells you softly. “You have too big a heart.”

And maybe that’s true. Maybe you’re too kind, too generous, to ever make it in business. To succeed without losing every penny to your name. 

But if that’s the case, then where does Jungkook stand?

When Jungkook stays at work late, the two of you eat dinner together. 

There’s just something so demoralizing about coming back to an empty house, letting the hollow sound of the door slamming shut echo throughout the room, and then marching off in different directions to spend the rest of the night alone. When it’s dark, and late, and you’re starving, it’s all you can do not to beg Jungkook to eat with you. Even if in silence. 

By the time you get home, your stomach is just about ready to consume the art books sitting in a neat stack at the top right corner of the coffee table. You begin to clear off some space for the both of you to eat as Jungkook heads towards the refrigerator, when not three seconds after, you hear him swear, “Oh, shit.”

“What’s the matter?” You call out. 

“We’re out of premade meals!” Jungkook shouts back. What? You could have sworn there were at least two full tupperwares still available. Actually, maybe you had eaten them for lunch… 

“Really?” You get up from the coffee table and make your way into the kitchen, where Jungkook is standing in front of a refrigerator with the entire middle section wiped clean, empty shelves mocking the both of you as you glare at them. “Oh, wow. Really.”

“I didn’t know we ate that much,” Jungkook comments, shocked at the sight before him. 

“What are we gonna do?” You ask. You’re hungry. 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook says with a laugh. He kneels down and begins to pull vegetables from the drawers, plucking different bottles from inside the fridge door and plastic cartons from the top shelves, the ones that you never dare touch. “We’ll cook something, obviously.”

“Can’t we just order takeout?”

“You don’t wanna cook something with me?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide and pouty. You shake your head guiltily. Is ordering a pizza really so much to ask? Jungkook narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, a grin pulling at his lips, before he nods knowingly. “Oh, I get it.”

“Get what?” You challenge. 

“You don’t know how to cook.”

“What? I know how to cook!” You cry out, aghast. True, your past meals have mostly involved warming food up in the microwave, but that counts, in your book. Jungkook frowns in disbelief. “I know how to use a microwave.”

Jungkook tosses his head back and laughs, this warm, hearty sound filling up the kitchen, before he starts placing all of the containers and bottles and vegetables he pulled out from the fridge onto the counter. “Okay, we’re going to make something together.”

“Seriously?” You say, borderline whining. “Can’t you just do it?”

“No,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “because you have to help me. Kitchen’s orders.”

“You’re the kitchen!”

“Exactly,” Jungkook says, smiling to himself. He pulls out some more ingredients from the cabinets, hands deftly reaching for the exact ones he wants, until you have a collection of food, seasonings, and sauces on the countertop, and an apparent recipe to be made. 

“What are we making?” You ask, looking down at everything on the counter. All of these things can’t go into one dish… can they?

“An old family recipe,” Jungkook says. “Kimchi jjigae. It’s kimchi stew.”

“Is it easy?” 

Jungkook grins something wicked, something devilish. “It’s fun.”

He sets out to put a pot on the stove, turning the gas on, bouncing back and forth between the stovetop and the counter as you stand there like a floundering fish, waiting for him to either give you an instruction or do everything himself.

“Can you cut the green onions?” Jungkook asks as he adds water and what looks to be tiny little fish to the pot, reaching behind his back to gesture wildly at the ingredients sitting on the marble. 

“Which are those?” You scan the countertop. Your familiarity with food and recipes extends about as far as anything non-perishable that comes in a tin can. Never in your life have you seen so much laid out in front of you, all meant to go into the same meal. 

The metal lid clinks as Jungkook covers the pot to boil, turning around to join you at the counter, where you wait awkwardly in front of an unused chopping board, no knife in sight. 

“These,” he says, reaching over you to pull up several stalks of something that looks similar to the wild onions that grow in your backyard. He fishes through the drawers before he pulls out a kitchen knife, gently placing it in your hand as he moves around to grab all of the other ingredients he needs for the boiling water on the stovetop. 

Hesitantly, you line up the onions and begin to chop, carefully sawing through each one until it comes cleanly off of the stalk. It’s awfully time-consuming, especially since Jungkook seems to have already made the stock base in the time it’s taken you to cut one. Nevertheless, you persist, because Jungkook wants these to go in the pot, and you refuse to be seen as incompetent in the kitchen, especially when Jungkook seems to be rather proficient when it comes to cooking despite the fact that a chef makes the majority of his meals for him. 

Old family recipes die hard, you suppose. 

Jungkook turns around to check on you and grab a small red container of what looks to be some sort of spicy pepper paste. When he sees you carefully slicing through each onion stalk, he laughs. 

“Hey, what are you laughing at?” You say, pouting. You don’t think you’re doing a terrible job, even if you are a bit slow. 

“You,” Jungkook says with a grin, not even bothering to think of something else to say instead. “Here, let me show you.”

He comes to stand behind you, his torso pressing against your back, as he reaches his arms around you, hands gently resting atop your own. There is something in the way his breath hits your skin, tickles the part right behind your ear that’s always been sensitive, how he leans down to look over your shoulder. The rise and fall of his chest against you. Something strange and foreign and calming, like when you tense up right before you fall asleep.

Frozen, you watch with nervous eyes as he holds your hand in his own, grasping onto the knife. He stacks a few onion stalks next to each other on top of the cutting board and slowly begins to cut—thin, quick slices until he develops a rhythm, an imaginary beat to the drumming of his heart, to the pounding of your own. 

The seconds seem to drag on for eternity, as if every cut through the vegetable is done in slow-motion, like time has slowed down just for the two of you. His breath tickles your skin, hot and tingly and filled with fire, lighting sparks everywhere it touches. You think that, if you concentrate hard enough, you can hear the way his heart thumps like a bass drum, ringing in your ears. Or maybe that’s just you. 

When four green onion stalks have been cut down to their very tips, suddenly the world speeds up, like the breaths that have slowly been leaving your lips come out all at once, like your heart picks up time to a universal metronome, desperate to realign itself once more. 

“There,” Jungkook murmurs from behind you. The words are soft and distant, almost like someone else had uttered them. “All done.”

You blame the tears welling in your eyes on the onions. 

Thirty minutes and an overwhelming amount of slicing different ingredients later, there is a boiling pot of kimchi stew on the stove, steaming up the inside of the glass lid that Jungkook has placed on top to keep it warm. He’s big on optimizing the time spent in the kitchen, cleaning up everything before you eat, stuffing all of the used plates and bowls and knives into the sink as they come, wrapping up the vegetables in the thin plastic bags that they came in and putting them back into the fridge. Jungkook says it’s because he doesn’t like having to clean the kitchen up after he’s eaten. You think it’s because he thinks you’ll run off and leave him to do all the work. 

You, admittedly, don’t make your own meals very often (or at all), but you can see the appeal. There’s something different about food that you make yourself, food that you turned from ingredients to a meal. Something rewarding. 

Or maybe it’s just because Jungkook did most of the cooking, and he’s got this inexplicable magic touch. 

“Good, right?” He asks when you’re finished, the both of you heading back to the kitchen to wash up the last of your dishes.

“It was okay,” you tease, even though your empty bowl says otherwise. There’s not a drop of soup, a scrap of food left inside of it, just an orange ring around the inside from the kimchi color. 

“Okay, Miss ‘Okay’,” Jungkook says, placing his bowl gently into the sink. “Hand me your thing, I’ll finish washing up.”

“You sure?” You ask. You feel like you’ve contributed absolutely nothing to the making of this dish. Not cooking it, not putting away the ingredients or washing the pot, nothing. The least you could do is clean up a couple of your bowls. Or put them in the dishwasher. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says, hand already latching onto it. “Takes two minutes.”

“Okay,” you tell him, watching the bowls fill with soap as his big hands scrub away the remnants of a very delicious meal. 

You linger in the kitchen. Despite not really having anything else to do, you don’t want to go back to your room, or curl away in some corner of the apartment where Jungkook can’t find you. You’re finally spending time together. Isn’t that what you wanted?

“It was pretty good,” you add on belatedly, when Jungkook is just drying his hands on the dish towel. There’s a precarious stack of dishes, utensils, and pots on the drying rack, like adding one more chopstick will send the whole thing tumbling down, but Jungkook isn’t worried about it at all. Even though he likes cleaning stuff up, he doesn’t like putting it away. 

“Aha!” Jungkook shouts, pointing at you accusingly. “I knew you would like it.”

“You’re a good chef,” you tell him. Maybe kimchi jjigae is the only thing he’s good at making, but rather be a master of one than a jack of all trades but master of none. Though, you have to admit that Jungkook is a master of several trades, none of which you think you could ever do. “You should cook more.”

“I wish,” Jungkook says with a sigh. The two of you have retired to the leather couch, the conversation drifting away from the kitchen and towards the sofas. When he collapses on the cushions, he relaxes, like the feeling is sucking out all of the tension in his body. “Every time I get back from work, I’m so drained and exhausted. I just want to go to sleep.”

“You weren’t tired tonight,” you point out. 

“No,” Jungkook says. The words are distant and faintly register in his mind, almost like the realization has just dawned on him for the first time, “I wasn’t.”

“Is there something else you wanna do?” You ask, not feeling particularly lethargic either. Normally, you’d spend the rest of the night raiding the rest of Jungkook’s amenities, watching old shows on his television or taking a bath until your body looks like a raisin. Something you can do by yourself, something that you’d want to do by yourself to make up for the fact that Jungkook doesn’t ever want to do anything with you. Watching him at work is getting less boring, because you’re actually starting to interact, but at home, you go right back to square one. Or, you did. “Watch a movie, or anything?”

“Nah, I’m alright,” Jungkook shakes his head, scrunching up his nose. You watch him as he chews the inside of his cheek, finger tracing over the scar that’s been left from that night, the night you patched him up. You’re a healer, but some things are meant to leave marks. You almost think that Jungkook is going to up and leave, heave himself off of the floor and spend the rest of the night alone in his bedroom, but then, he turns to you and he asks, “How often do you heal people?”

“I haven’t in a while,” you admit. Not because the opportunity has never presented itself, but you never had anyone to heal. “I used to when I was a kid, a lot. You know, scraped knees and paper cuts.”

“What about you?” Jungkook asks. “Do you have to heal yourself as well?”

“No,” you explain, “healers’ bodies heal by themselves.” It’s why, whenever you get back to your shack after crashing into a tree on the sidewalk that you hadn’t spotted, or stubbed your toe on the leg of a table, or pulled a muscle from stretching too far, you let yourself rest, and your body does the work for you. “But healing isn’t… it isn’t something I do very often. I turn invisible much more.”

“I can tell,” Jungkook muses. “But you’ve been invisible around me so much that it feels like I can still see you.”

“That’s because I’m always in your office when I’m invisible,” you point out. Jungkook knows you’re there because you wouldn’t be anywhere else. Where would you even go, when the whole point is to watch him? “In a place like this, there is no way you would be able to find me.”

“You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yes, I do,” you say, because Jungkook can’t possibly think his human-snuffing skills are as good as yours. Especially when the only person he’s trying to find is invisible. “You think you’re such a hotshot, hmm? Try and find me, then.”

“First floor only,” Jungkook rules. “And, when I do, I get to turn something.”

“Fine,” you agree, only because you know that that’s not going to happen. “One thing. That’s strike two, though.”

“You won’t tell,” Jungkook chides, eyes narrowed. 

“Will I?”

“Twenty seconds!” Jungkook says, already beginning to count down. “Nineteen, eighteen—!”

You turn invisible at once, not wasting a second, scurrying off down one of the hallways. There are plenty of places to hide in Jungkook’s house, from the walk-in closets in every bedroom to the one-foot-tall gap underneath every bed. But you won’t go for one of those, because Jungkook expects you to. He’s going to hunt around his entire house, looking in all of the nooks and crannies, the armoires and cabinets and cubbyholes, because he thinks that that’s where you’ll be hiding. But the truth is that there is no way that Jungkook will be able to find you when he can’t see you, because he doesn’t know what he’ll be looking for. 

So, you pick the second-to-last bedroom down the hall, and you wait. You’d sit down on the mattress, but Jungkook easily be able to spot a dip in the comforter, so you stand, right next to the door, holding your breath. If Jungkook really does think he can sense your presence, or whatever psychic nonsense he’s on about, then he should have no problem finding you. 

You hear Jungkook’s voice echoing down the hallway, a sickly sweet singsong as he walks into every room. 

“Y/N…” He calls out, like a ghost in a horror movie. “Where are you?”

From your angle, you can peer down the corridor, watch as he trickles in and out of each room after five minutes, no doubt searching through every one with both of his arms out, desperate to crash into you. Good thing you’re standing, otherwise Jungkook might accidentally elbow you. Slowly, he makes his way out of the room right before yours, casually walking towards you. You suck in a quick breath, holding yourself perfectly still.

“Are you here?” Jungkook flips his head around the doorframe, a foot away from where you’re standing. He isn’t looking right at you, thank God, otherwise you think you might just burst into laughter. “Hmm, I think you are.”

He begins to walk around the room, one hand tracing over the quilted pattern on the comforter, the other reaching out, grabbing fistfuls of air. He looks like someone’s blocked his vision, wandering around aimlessly as he tries to find something to cling onto. You bite your lip, refusing to laugh and give yourself away as he makes his way into the bathroom, singing your name like a chant, a curse to be laid upon you. When he obviously has no luck, he returns to the bedroom, eyes narrowed, as if that will better help his vision. 

You don’t think you’ve ever held your breath for this long, lungs about to burst, but you can’t let Jungkook find you. There’s more than just your powers on the line, and his reward. There’s your pride, and his massive ego that you refuse to stroke. The fact that he looks absolutely ridiculous is also doing nothing to aid you, but giving yourself up would be a metaphorical death sentence. 

Jungkook has one foot out of the door, already heading towards the last bedroom in the hallway, when you crack. You sputter out a half-breath, this miniscule exhale, and he stops in his tracks, turning around. You freeze up, hoping that maybe Jungkook will just think it was a trick of his own ears. 

“Y/N?” He taunts. He looks around the room again, trying to see if the wind is blowing a different way, if there is something different. He almost doesn’t notice you. 

Almost. 

You turn in shock when Jungkook reaches a hand out, his fingers pinching at your lower torso, shrieking as you practically topple over, Jungkook’s arms the only things that prevent you from diving head first onto the floor. He encases you in his hold as you sink to the floor in defeat, laughing as he follows you, one arm holding your waist as the other wraps around your back. He chuckles to himself while you curl up in shame, desperate not to meet your eyes. Your skin sizzles where his fingers had touched it, like oil in a pan after it’s been taken off of the stove, like the remnants of a flame, embers left to burn into ashes. It feels like your body is on fire. 

“Found you,” Jungkook teases, but it’s soft and sweet and fond. “I told you, I just know.”

“You just heard me breathe,” you defend yourself, because the former is impossible to accept. 

“Whatever you want to say to make yourself feel better.” He grins, cheeky and prideful, making you shove his head away with the palm of your hand. 

“Fine, whatever,” you say, resigning yourself to the fact that you lost this round. “What do you want to turn? The bed frame? The door knob? That really ugly pot in the living room?”

“Hey, that pot isn’t ugly,” Jungkook exclaims. You frown at him. “Okay, it’s only a little bit ugly.”

“For someone with so much money, you sure don’t have the best taste,” you tell him, even though everything else in his house reads expensive like nothing else. That pot is just weirdly out-of-place. “Maybe the gold will make it look better.”

“What’s this?” Jungkook asks, reaching a hand out from behind you to toy at the bracelet on your wrist, this silver chain with a couple of charms dangling from it. It’s rusted beyond belief, from rain, from humidity, from wear, but you refuse to take it off, even when it loses what’s left of its shimmer, even when the silver fades to a scratchy red iron. 

“An old bracelet,” you say, fingers instinctively making to play with it, rubbing away at the metal. “From my mom.”

“You wear it every day,” Jungkook notices. 

“I never take it off,” you say. 

“It’s pretty,” Jungkook tells you, and you know that he isn’t just saying that. That he means it, despite its abysmal condition. The years have not been kind to it, but then again, they haven’t been very kind to you either. “It must be really special.”

“It is.” You shuffle the bracelet around so that all five of the charms are in view. “She would buy a new charm every year for my birthday.”

“I like this one,” Jungkook says, pointing to the milk carton charm. “It’s cute.”

“Yeah…” you trail off. The bracelet isn’t much, but it’s all you have left of a childhood that you had been robbed of. You had to grow up too fast, that you know, but at least this bracelet reminds you that you are never too old for your memories. 

“Can I turn it?” Jungkook asks. It’s as if you can see the words leave his lips, resting in front of you, waiting for your response. 

You turn around to face him, eyes wide. Your hand goes to rest atop the bracelet protectively, the idea of letting someone else touch it almost unfathomable. 

“You can say no,” Jungkook quickly stammers out, face beet red. “It was just—you wear it so much, and it looks like the silver is fading, so I was thinking maybe the gold would… fix it up a bit, or something. Make it look new again. Ignore me, you don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion.”

Your fingers drop into your lap as you look at him, expression softening. Here, in this unused guest bedroom, Jungkook looks nervous, lost, stumbling over his own words like he isn’t sure of himself anymore. He looks away from you, eyes already beginning to scan the room for something else to turn instead, doubtful you would even agree to such a wild request. It is your bracelet, after all. Why would he do something like that for you?

“You want to?” You ask him, hopeful and wishing. 

Jungkook nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “I do.”

“Then you can,” you say, holding out your wrist to him, the charms dangling over your laps. “Please.”

Jungkook’s shocked that you even said yes, but he scrambles to twist you around, moving your bodies so you aren’t pressed against each other like two peas squished inside of a pod. In this new position, you’re facing each other, staring right at each other as Jungkook reaches out a tentative hand, delicate fingers padding against your wrist. He breathes, and so do you, because you’ve gotten so used to the way this bracelet has looked, so familiar with every rust and crack and dent, knowing that it has remained unchanged for years. 

But this isn’t a change. It’s a rebirth. It’s something different, something fresh, something to remind you that not all is lost. That old memories can become new once more. 

Slowly, as Jungkook presses soft fingertips against the metal, sparks fly. A golden sheen wraps around the bracelet, inch by inch, leaving behind this unmistakeable shimmer, glinting in the sunlight. You can’t tear your eyes away, watching the magic unfold in real time, the silver vanishing before you. The gold consumes it, erasing all of the rust, the wear and tear, until it looks brand new.

Your mother would have loved it. 

“Is that strike two?” Jungkook asks, a cherry red blush decorating his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out, not caring if it’s strike two or strike two hundred. Your fingers press against the metal, smooth and shiny, the bumpy texture gone. It must be worth thousands, now. But to you, it is priceless. “It’s beautiful.”

Jungkook nods, and you can distantly feel the weight of his gaze on you. 

“I know,” he says. 

You can’t sleep. 

You’ve slept better here than you have for the past three years of your life. At this point, sleeping on cement would be more comfortable than your bed back at your own house, but here, the soft, plush mattress takes away all of the exhaustion that manifests itself in you throughout the day. Not to mention the fact that for the first time in over a decade, you finally have a normal routine, an internal clock to direct your body, rather than the other way around. There is something soothing in knowing exactly what the next day will bring. Something that doesn’t keep you up with worry.

But tonight, you are wide awake. 

The golden bracelet on your wrist clinks against itself as you sit up, rubbing at the gunk that’s collected in your eyes. You’ve been keenly aware of its existence on your wrist much more in the past several days, ever since Jungkook turned it from its previous faded silver, fingers instinctively toying with it whenever there’s nothing on your mind—and even when there is. 

What you fear most is the fact that you feel as though you are relying on Jungkook to be there more and more, counting on the fact that you know he will be by your side no matter where you are, no matter what you do. You are relying on him to be there, on his house to be there, shaping the way that you run your life based on the belief that at the end of the day, he will be asleep under the same roof as you. 

You pull yourself out of bed. Maybe a night spent alone will remind you of the days where you would watch the moon move across the sky, sitting underneath trees and counting the stars that you can see. Remind you that no matter what, the moon will always be there for you, too. Remind you that this, all of it, is temporary. 

You know that you aren’t allowed to go up to the second floor of Jungkook’s apartment, and that you’ve never been solely because Jungkook requested that you stay downstairs, a promise you have kept throughout the weeks. But there must be some appeal to the rooftop, you think, because Jungkook never comes downstairs whenever he’s having a restless night. Besides, it’s not as if you have any plans to go into his bedroom. 

Softly, you creep upstairs, hand dragging along the golden rail, feet leaving creases in the carpet. The top of the stairs opens up into a general hallway, a dark wooden door undoubtedly leading towards his bedroom, while the walls on the other side turn to glass, leading towards the pool. You tiptoe down the hallway, making sure to avoid making too much noise by Jungkook’s bedroom door, passing by the gym that Jungkook must use all of the time, whenever he’s not around to bother you. The glass door at the end of the hallway must exit out to the pool, so you twist the doorknob and push it open, the cool summer atmosphere hitting you like a breath of fresh air. 

All of the lights are on outside, this soft white that reflects off of the metal railing and the pool water, crashing in waves against the tiled edges. You think it’s just for show, like how people leave their Christmas lights on twenty-four hours a day, visible through their windows, but then you round the corner and see him.

Jungkook sits along the edge of the water, legs swishing around in the pool, as he looks up at the sky. The summer breeze blows through his hair, messy and loose, the way it looks right when he gets out of the shower, before he puts any product into it. Whatever he’s playing with in his hand glints in the lights, that distinctive yellow glow. It must be a coin or something, something small, something to keep his fingers occupied. 

“Are we considering that strike three?”

He whips around when he hears your voice, hears the way the pool water carries it across to him. 

“I thought you promised never to come up here,” he muses back. 

“Then I guess maybe both of us can be forgiven,” you suggest.

You amble over to him, crouching down to dip your feet in as well. You seat yourself along the edge of the pool beside him as the water sloshes around, the sensation sending shivers down your spine despite the humidity in the air. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “My body’s tired but my mind isn’t.”

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the coin in his hand. It isn’t a form of currency that you recognize, certainly nothing used here. 

“A family heirloom,” Jungkook tells you, holding it out for you to see. It’s covered in a thin layer of cold but you think that you can make out some sort of crest, an emblem or insignia above the coat of arms. “Apparently it had been stolen from someone of royalty or high status back in the day. My family turned it into gold and made it ten times more valuable.”

“Oh, but I pickpocket a few people and suddenly I get sentenced by the Realm to be a minder, I see how it is,” you joke, rolling your eyes. Your eyes glaze over the crest, tracing the lines of a lion, a spear, a shield. It must mean something to someone, but to you and Jungkook, it could be anything. 

“Hey, but being my minder hasn’t been terrible, has it?” Jungkook asks, mockingly offended. His lips curl down into a pout as he looks at you, a hand on his heart like it’s been punctured by your words.

“It’s…” You begin. You suppose that it hasn’t been terrible. In the beginning, it was positively nightmarish, left you feeling like there was no way you would ever complete your sentence. Now, there’s this weird, hidden part of you that doesn’t want to leave. The part of you that has become attached to this world, this lifestyle. The part of you that relies on there being another person in your life to be with. “It’s not that bad.”

“You know what, I’ll take it.” Jungkook grins. “Even though I know you secretly love me.”

You give Jungkook a shove, pushing him on his side. “You wish.”

He laughs, pulling himself back up off of the cement, knocking his shoulder into yours. “I know that we both kind of didn’t have a choice in any of this,” he tells you, looking up at the stars, watching their faint light, twinkling from millions of light years away. “But I think I really needed you here.”

“Oh, now he admits he needs a minder,” you say sarcastically, flinging your arms out in front of you. 

Jungkook chuckles. “I didn’t realize I turned so much until you forced me to stop cold turkey.”

You nod. The truth is, you can’t blame Jungkook for his turning habits. You can’t blame him for living the way that he lives, when it’s the only thing he’s ever known. When the two most important adults in his life turn like wildfire, when they taught him everything he knows. But Jungkook is his own person, now, not a product of his parents, anymore. He has his own choices to make. He can become whoever he wants to be. 

He has become someone he wants to be. 

Jungkook’s magic habits aren’t any fault of his own as much as yours aren’t, either. They were born out of ignorance, out of necessity. Out of the fact that neither of you have ever known a world where you didn’t have powers, where you didn’t feel as though you needed to use them. You couldn’t imagine not having your magic. You know that Jungkook feels the same. 

“Why did you?” It’s as if the words don’t even belong to you. Like someone else has spoken them—the moon, the sky, the stars. 

Jungkook purses his lips, and sighs. “It was all I had ever known.”

Jungkook grew up drunk on his powers. You wonder if he’s sobered up now. 

(You wonder if you had anything to do with it.)

“When I was little, my parents gave me that whole ‘you’re different, and that makes you special’ talk. They told me that my powers were valuable. A gift. And that people with gifts like mine must never waste them. That if we had been given this magic, we ought to use it, right? So that’s what I did. God, every day I would turn a new toy gold, and then I would get another one to replace it, and I would turn that one gold, too. My parents probably sold that to our banks, another hundred thousand dollars into their pockets,” Jungkook says, forcing out a laugh at the memory. The thought is rather endearing, when you think about it. Little Jungkook turning a stuffed bear gold, crying when it isn’t soft and fuzzy anymore. 

“And my parents encouraged me. They told me that I was doing the right thing, that I wasn’t letting my gift go to waste. You saw them that evening that they came over. They were turning things gold left and right. Things that I had wanted to stay their natural material. Like that bowl for my keys. Do you know how easily gold is scratched?” He exclaims, gesturing frantically in front of him. “I purposefully kept that as the clay it was made out of. And now it’s gold.”

“A modern day crisis,” you joke. 

“I guess…” Jungkook begins, but the words trail off and he pauses, almost like nothing he says will be correct. “I guess I just never knew the difference between not wanting my magic to be in vain, and not wanting to ever stop using it. Like you. You only heal when you need to. And even then, you don’t treat it like this precious gift. You treat it like something you owe to others.”

“That’s because without other people to heal, my power is useless,” you explain. Being able to heal others has no direct benefit for you. It doesn’t make you stronger, or faster, or better. It is a gift that is meant to be shared. “It’s different.”

“Every time I turn something, I feel like shit afterwards,” Jungkook admits to you. “Like I’ve turned so many things, that I don’t have the right to do it anymore. Like I’ve exhausted my magic.”

“You feel guilty,” you explain to him, resting a hand on top of his own, his fingers losing their grip on the coin he’s been tossing between them. “And that’s okay,” you tell him, meeting his eyes with your own. “Your parents are right—what you have, this power that you possess, it is a gift. It has made your life better in a way that nothing else could. But your fear of letting it go to waste, of not truly appreciating it for what it is, is a two-way street.”

Jungkook blinks at you, petal pink lips parted ever so slightly. 

“Wasting a gift by never using it is the same as wasting it by overusing it, because it loses its specialness. When you turn things now, it doesn’t feel amazing or blessed or exciting, because it’s lost the ability to feel like that for you. It’s almost second-nature, at this point,” you say.

“Then what do I do?” He asks, feeling helpless. “How do I make it feel special again?”

You squeeze his hand in your own, making him look up at you, the pool water reflected in his big brown eyes, like a warm chocolate ocean. “You only use it on things that make you feel like a better person.” Things that make Jungkook feel special, as opposed to things that make his magic feel special. “Not just things that will put more money in your bank account, or things that will make your house decor nicer. Things that you really, truly care about.”

Jungkook’s eyes glance downward at something, but he nods. He breathes out this exhale, this heavy sort of breath, like he’s trying to reteach himself the things that make him tick. Things like alphabetized books, and homemade kimchi stew. 

“Gifts like that only come once in a lifetime,” you say. “Remarkable things don’t happen to us all the time.” You know this, because it’s true. Because you’ve lived it.

Because in another life, in another universe, there is a you who can’t turn invisible, can’t heal people, and there is a Jungkook, too, one who can’t turn whatever he pleases into gold. And they would live their whole lives not knowing what it would be like to have these powers, to ease their way of life. And they would never meet each other, either. Too busy trapped on opposite sides of the world, too busy to worry about anybody but themselves. 

“So we have to learn to treasure them.” It feels as though you’re drowning in him. Like you’re floundering, barely staying afloat. “We have to make sure that they always feel special to us.”

You curl your hand around his own, lacing your fingers together as your palms rest against each other’s. You watch as his gaze drifts down to where your hands are interlocked, a bridge between the two of you, a lifeline that connects the two lives you had lived without each other in them. 

“Do you understand?” You ask. You can see the words as they appear, watch as they linger in between the two of you, hot summer breaths on a cool summer night. 

He squeezes your hands together, and he smiles, warm and round and real. He looks at you, and he is there, he is sitting by your side. And he is beautiful and extraordinary and remarkable. And he says, “I’m starting to.”

You wake up the next morning to find a shimmering piece of parchment sitting on the dresser in your bedroom. 

As declared by the Realm, its leaders, and its government, it reads, 

The recipient, Y/N, has successfully completed her sentence of community service as mandated by the courts. She no longer needs to serve as the minder to Jeon Jungkook, and may return to her former residence. 

Though the sentence has been carried out, The Realm, its leaders, and its government, reserves the right to re-charge the recipient for the crimes for which she had been originally tried should she commit them again. Should this instance occur, the option for community service will not be available. 

We thank you for your service.

Oh. 

Already? 

It feels like you just started. Like it was only yesterday that you stormed up to the front door of Jungkook’s penthouse, watched as he crumpled up the parchment and tossed it into the bin. Like it was only yesterday you reappeared at his office, this time with a declaration that won’t be so easily destroyed. 

You wonder why this one is all sparkly as well. 

You don’t know exactly what prompted the end of your sentence, what duties you had somehow fulfilled to earn you your freedom. What is the Realm searching for? What data are they using to determine whether or not you have met your goal? It certainly couldn’t have just been the fact that Jungkook hasn’t turned in a while. Not turning is not the same as not wanting to turn. 

So what changed?

You stare down at the parchment, each word leaving you more confused than the word before it. 

It isn’t over already, is it?

Knowing that you are now free to return back to your own house means that your worst fear has been realized. You don’t want to. 

You want to stay here, in Jungkook’s massive penthouse, relishing in the glory and wealth that comes alongside it. You want his chef to make pre-made meals for you and the extra kimchi stew he keeps in the fridge. You want Jungkook’s five thousand different streaming services and enough books to last you several lifetimes. You want the sense of normalcy that staying here has given you, the regular routine that you have so effortlessly fallen into. You want the late-night pool chats and rounds of hide-and-seek. 

Why would you want to give up all that you have?

“You want fried or poached eggs?” Jungkook knocks on your closed bedroom door, tapping softly with his knuckles, already awake and ready to make breakfast. 

“Either,” you tell him, glaring down at the parchment with furrowed brows. You’re too afraid to touch it, too afraid to even look at it any closer. Because that will make it real. 

“Alright,” Jungkook calls. “It’ll be ready in ten! Got freshly-squeezed orange juice too!” You can hear his footsteps as he heads back down the corridor, the thump, thump, thump of his fuzzy slippers against the hardwood floor. 

“Coming,” you say weakly, too focused on the glowing paper on the dresser. 

 Just because you can go back to your house doesn’t mean you have to. Just because you can go back to your old life, doesn’t mean you have to. 

You grab the paper and stuff it in an old tote bag, covering it with old clothes, memories of the former world you lived in. Not anymore. 

After all, isn’t this the life you’ve always dreamed of?

Kimchi stew is, as it stands, delicious, but it can’t be the only thing that the two of you ever cook together. 

Jungkook does all of the grocery shopping, mostly because the both of you know that if you went out to the store with a list of ingredients, you would be lost for days searching for them. So when he returns home with three tote bags filled with ingredients, your mouth already starts to water. 

“What are we making today, chef?” You ask, bounding into the kitchen as Jungkook begins to unpack. 

“Another Korean recipe,” Jungkook says happily, pulling out a bright yellow pack of thin grey noodles. “Japchae!”

“Sounds delicious,” you say, though at this point he could make you microwave mac-and-cheese and you’d snarf it down like nothing else.

“You bet it is.” Jungkook grins, slowly dumping out the rest of the contents of the bags. They are filled to the brim with vegetables and seasonings, peppers and zucchini and everything in between, the makings of a colorful little homemade dish. 

Jungkook seems to be making more time to actually cook things these days, fishing through the cabinets regularly to see what meals he can make with all of the ingredients in his kitchen. The chef only comes once every two weeks now, and usually brings with him any groceries that Jungkook has personally requested. He’ll ask you what you think of a new recipe that he wants to try, showing you the guide on his laptop screen, writing down whatever he needs to buy from the store. 

And you thought that the chef’s meals were appetizing. 

“Have you ever thought of meal-prepping?” You ask as Jungkook sets the noodles in a pot of boiling water, turning the heat on high. 

“Why?” Jungkook says. 

“I don’t know,” you tell him, washing the red pepper underneath the faucet, cutting board and knife ready and waiting on the counter. “So you don’t have to go through the process of cutting everything up and sauteing it, or whatever.”

Jungkook turns around, shakes his head. “No. Half the fun of cooking is making it.”

“But you could save yourself a lot of time when you come back from work,” you point out. Jungkook’s always so exhausted by the time he walks through the front door, keys scratching the golden bowl on the table on the way in. 

“But then we wouldn’t get to cook together,” he says like it’s obvious, like it’s the thing that he thinks about the most when he comes back home. The two of you, filling up his kitchen, leaving oil stains on the countertops and burnt vegetables at the bottom of the pans. The scent of spices, of onions, of sizzling vegetables wafting through the air. 

Another person to fill up this barren house. 

You never eat in the dining room, because two people still isn’t enough to make that room feel like it’s full, like there are people that regularly use it. But now, there are grease stains on the leather of Jungkook’s couch, and a little bit of ketchup on the rug that he doesn’t know about, reminders that just because Jungkook’s house is big doesn’t mean it has to be empty as well. 

“I’m a horrible chef,” you say, because you’re not quite sure what else to tell him. Up until a few weeks ago, you had never cut up an onion in your life. Things in the kitchen that take Jungkook five minutes to do take you twenty. You certainly aren’t any help, not when Jungkook has to pause whatever he’s doing to teach you something that you should already know. So what’s the appeal?

“You’re not that bad,” Jungkook assures you gently. “You just need to do it more.”

“Oh, so is that your mission? You don’t meal-prep because you want me to learn how to make my own food?” You ask, rounding on him. 

“You got me.” He grins guiltily, pinching the part of your waist where he knows you’re the most ticklish, making you laugh as you turn invisible for a moment, a sort of gut reaction whenever you’re sensitive. “And because I like cooking with you.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “It must be my infectious personality, right?”

“That, and teaching you how to cook stuff is fun.” Jungkook smiles, reaching out as he begins to chop vegetables beside you. Standing here, in the middle of his kitchen, you wonder if this is how life is supposed to be. Someone you can cook with, someone you can eat with. Someone who will teach you the things that you don’t know, who will help you master the things that you do. Someone who doesn’t care where you came from, only that you’re here now, that you are right beside him. 

Homemade meals make your insides warm and fuzzy, but having someone to spend the night with makes your heart feel comforted. Makes it feel like it’s been wrapped in a blanket, cradled in someone’s hands. 

“What happens when I learn everything?” You ask. “What will you do then?”

Eventually, this routine must come to an end. Eventually, there will be nothing left for him to teach you, nothing left for you to learn. You know that your days are numbered, that there is only so much time that the two of you can spend together. What will happen when you reach the last day? When there will be no tomorrow for you to rely on?

Jungkook must know that you can’t stay here forever, even if the two of you try to keep it that way. But he doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “Then, I’ll find something new to teach you.”

This arrangement has always been temporary. 

But for a moment, just a moment, an echo in time, he makes you believe otherwise. 

There’s a golden glint on your chest of drawers when you walk into the room, the glare flashing in your eyes as the sun hits it. 

You, admittedly, don’t go into your room very often, usually only to do the thing that bedrooms, at their most basic level, were meant to do: sleep. But Jungkook retired early to his room tonight, citing some ridiculous reason like he hadn’t worked out enough this week, and everything in the house suddenly becomes less inviting whenever he’s not around. 

When you step closer, you can see it. See the thin chain that rests on the dresser, the key that hangs from it, a similar size to the charms on your bracelet. The gold is faded, shine erased, leaving behind this gentle matte texture, smooth but worn. It’s much more vintage than the sorts of things you would find in jewelry stores today—bright, sparkly necklaces and shiny, lustrous rings. It was made to look old, to look worn. It probably is.  

There’s a little note next to the necklace, a torn piece of paper from a notepad, the edges rough and uneven. 

To Y/N,

Found this in my mother’s old jewelry that she always leaves here when she decides it’s not her style anymore. Didn’t really think of anybody else that would make good use of it like you. I think it’ll match your bracelet well! I hope you like it.

Jungkook

You smile as you read the words, take in this meaningful little gesture that Jungkook has done for you. The bracelet from your mother has always been your most prized possession, but with its new golden makeover, it reminds you that you don’t always have to look to your past to be happy. That what you have, right here, right now, is enough. Now, your mother’s charm bracelet has a matching partner. 

Standing in front of the mirror, you put the necklace on, fingers craning to attach the clasp to the chain, metal slipping from your grip. After a bit of a battle, you finally manage to connect the two ends, letting the key hang low past your collarbones, the gold resting gently against your skin. It doesn’t match your bracelet perfectly, but the two aren’t so much a matching set as they are a pair, two pieces that are meant to complement each other rather than complete. 

You seriously doubt that Jungkook’s already asleep. 

Sneaking up the stairs to the second story, you see that the door to Jungkook’s bedroom is wide open, revealing a little glimpse into the room he spends so much time in. It’s dark, empty, a signal that Jungkook is elsewhere on this floor. You don’t spend too much effort peering into Jungkook’s bedroom, not when it feels like you’re invading his space, his privacy. He’s already given up so much of his home for you. He deserves to keep his bedroom his own.

He’s not in the gym, you determine as you pass by, which means that there really is only one other place he could be found. 

You push open the door to the rooftop, rounding the corner to the deck to find Jungkook doing laps in the pool, wearing nothing but his swimming trunks. The water sloshes around his body as he swims back and forth, kicking up splashes as he goes. You watch for a few moments as he works out, not wanting to interrupt him he burns away the calories in his body. This is the closest you’ve ever come to seeing Jungkook undressed, but you don’t really mind. At least he’s got shorts on. 

When he stops, he stands up in the pool, sopping wet hands running through sopping wet hair, strands that frame the sides of his face, make his hair look longer than it actually is. He wipes away the water on his face, blinking the chlorine from his eyes, when he spots you. 

“What are you doing up here?” He asks, not even caring to fight away the grin that has laced itself on his features. 

“Came to say thank you,” you tell him, fingers toying with the key around your neck. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to,” Jungkook says honestly. “Besides, my mother was never going to come back to get it, so I figured that it should go to someone who will actually wear it.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, slowly sitting down along the edge of the pool, letting your legs dip into the water. Jungkook makes his way over to you, water splashing at his torso as he walks through the pool to stand before you. “Was it always gold?”

“It was, yes,” Jungkook says with a nod. “My mom liked to turn a lot of things, but she preferred her jewelry to be naturally gold. That’s why it’s pretty faded.”

“It looks nicer this way,” you say. “Shiny gold looks cheap.”

“Spend a couple of months in a mansion and suddenly you think gold looks cheap?” Jungkook jokes. “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Can’t help that I’ve got an eye for nice things,” you tease, looking Jungkook up and down just to be dramatic. You have to admit that he’s got a rather attractive figure, fit, built, toned. You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t eyeing him at least a little bit. 

Jungkook pretends that he isn’t paying attention to the fact that you are blatantly ogling his body and laughs. “You swim?”

“I learned when I was little,” you tell him. “But I haven’t done it in a long time.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Jungkook says with a disapproving shake of his head. 

“What? I like being dry,” you say, hands on your hips as you defend yourself. Besides, when you were little, swimming always meant showering afterwards, which sucked because then you had to waste water just to clean yourself of other water. Your mother always said that being able to swim would carry you far in life, would be an invaluable skill. You haven’t swum since she died. 

“But, you wouldn’t mind if I… oh, never mind,” Jungkook dismisses, being purposefully vague just to capture your attention. 

“What?” You demand. 

“If I…” Jungkook begins, leaning back down in the pool until all but his head is submerged. He floats towards you, paddling until he’s right beneath your feet. “Did this—?”

Without a second of warning, Jungkook’s wet hands are grabbing onto your ankle, pulling you and your fully-clothed-self into the water with a splash, making you shriek as you feel your skin freeze up at the cold temperature. Luckily, it’s shallow enough here that you can stand rather easily, but now you’re soaked from head to toe, sopping fabric sticking to your figure.

You come up from beneath the water, positively accosted, hands wiping across your face as you clear your eyes so that they can narrow in on your target. “Okay, that was uncalled for,” you say, splashing Jungkook furiously, even as the two of you fight off the laughter that is bubbling up from your throats. 

“Oh, but it’s such a nice night for swimming,” Jungkook grins devilishly, that cheeky sort of look reserved for when he knows he’s being a nuisance. 

“Maybe for you!” You say, punctuating every word with a splash. Jungkook takes them all in good fun, accepting his punishment for pulling you into the pool. “I’ve been betrayed.”

“Admit it,” Jungkook coaxes, “you love me.”

You refuse.

When the rage has died down and the water begins to feel less like an icy death trap and more like a pleasant dip, you and Jungkook paddle around each other, swimming in circles like two fish in a school. Looking up, it is a nice night, clear skies as a crescent moon hangs above your heads. There are seldom any stars in the middle of the city, but the especially bright ones still shine, flickers of white in an otherwise deep blue ocean. You wonder how many times Jungkook has come out here, spent the night underneath the sky when he cannot sleep away the hours in bed. 

You wonder how many times you missed the opportunity to spend the night with him. 

“I sort of wish that we could stay like this forever, don’t you?” Jungkook asks, the two of you floating on top of the water like light against the sea. 

There’s a lot of things in your life that you wish would never change. This is just another bullet point added to the list. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, because out there somewhere is a timer, counting down the moments until you have to say goodbye. “I do.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” you say, looking at Jungkook. 

He sits across from you in the booth, face lit up in a warm yellow from the rustic exposed light bulb above your heads, this soft, homey glow to his features, sharp jawline but rounded cheeks. He’s cleaned up well, in a different way than how he gets ready for work, when he has to make sure his collars are crisp and his hair is sleek and straight. Here, his dark brown hair is bouncy, loose, like he had blown it out after jumping out of the shower and then immediately ran his hand through it a couple of times to mess it up. He wears a plain button down, nothing fancy or chic, no tie, no suit jacket. The beauty of how he looks is that it’s so simple, so timeless, like he doesn’t need to put any effort into how he looks because he is just naturally perfect. Like the cover of a magazine. Like a sculpture come to life. 

“I wanted to,” Jungkook says happily, fork twirling around the pasta in the dish in front of him. “We can’t just eat premade meals and leftover Korean food forever.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t complain if we did…” You reason, because you’ve been better fed in the few months you’ve lived with Jungkook than in the years you have spent on your own. Not to mention the fact that everything Jungkook makes tastes eons better than the meals the professional chef whips up, for some odd reason. “But you’re right, a night out is fun.”

“Sometimes food tastes better when you don’t make it yourself,” Jungkook points out, motioning to the dishes before you, these high-class servings of fish and pasta and vegetables that look like they belong on a cooking show rather than on the table in front of you. You and Jungkook may have mastered (or at least… gotten better at) cooking, but presentation is a whole other battlefield. Besides, it’s all going to the same place, so why bother?

“Mmm,” you murmur in agreement, savoring the flavor of the meal in front of you. A year ago you wouldn’t have dared step foot in a restaurant like this one, would have probably gotten kicked out after you walked through the door, so being here feels like a real treat. One that you think you could definitely get used to. 

“Thanks, by the way,” Jungkook pipes up, as if suddenly remembering something. 

“For what?”

“For your idea about the investment management,” Jungkook says, sending the both of you back to that day in his office, where Jungkook was on the verge of flipping his desk over because he couldn’t figure out a solution. 

“Oh, is it working out?” You ask, curious to know if your suggestion is truly paying off or if you just had too much faith in the goodness of humanity. 

“It is.” Jungkook nods happily. He seems very proud of himself. “It was slow going at first, because a lot of clients were starting to wonder why we weren’t investing in other stocks that would guarantee us a higher payout, but then they saw where the money was going. We aren’t bigger than our rival companies, but this levelled the playing field.”

“I’m glad,” you say, because it’s one thing for Jungkook to tell you you had a good idea, and it’s another for him to actually implement it. “That makes me happy to hear.”

“You’re not as bad at business or economics as you think you are, Y/N,” Jungkook informs you, waving around a nonchalant hand. “All they are is an in-depth study of human nature. Some economists assume that everyone in the world is selfish and cares only about themselves, but you’re different. You see the good in everyone, you believe that people can be honest, and selfless, and giving.”

Like Jungkook. 

Like Jungkook, who has given up his home, his work, his life just to deal with another person hovering around him. Who gifts you gorgeous pieces of jewelry and takes you out to fancy meals, who lets you screw up a recipe in the kitchen and obligingly eats peppers that have been charred beyond recognition. Who is so much more honest, so much more selfless, so much more giving, than you could ever be, sticking around because to not do so would cost you your freedom, because you would rather stay here than be anywhere else. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone,” Jungkook says, cracking this weak, terrible smile. He shakes his head as if to banish the thought from his mind, to exist only in this very moment, choosing to ignore both the past and the future. “I think I’m starting to rely on you being there.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, distantly. Something weighs heavy on your chest, pressing your heart down, slowing its temperate rhythm. The truth is that your heart stopped a long time ago, it stopped when you realized that there’s more to Jungkook that you want to know, when you realized that you can’t bear to imagine a life different than the one that the two of you share, no matter how temporary it is. But this weight, this burden on you, it serves as nothing but a reminder that without Jungkook, your heart cannot count in time. “Me too.”

You return home with plastic tupperwares in your hands, leftovers from the enormous meal that the two of you couldn’t have finished even if you tried. Jungkook takes the container from your hands as you excuse yourself to the bathroom, desperate to wash away the thoughts that rest heavy in your heart, cleanse yourself of the lies you can’t seem to stop telling. There’s this naive part of you that thinks, when you wash off the makeup, change back into your raggedy old clothes, all of the secrets you carry with you will vanish as well. 

You know you’ll have to come clean eventually. Eventually, Jungkook will get suspicious as to why you’ve hung around so long even though he is no longer turning. He’ll begin to wonder why you haven’t dashed out of the penthouse you once used to disparage, desperate to return to your old life, where you didn’t have to know him the way that you do now. When you didn’t feel like there was something else trapping you here. 

When all is said and done, though, it feels like here is where you were always meant to end up. 

You head back out into the living room, ready to settle down and wrap up the night by watching a movie or something, when you see Jungkook standing by the couch, your old tote bag sitting on the cushions from a laundry trip earlier today, a shimmering piece of parchment in his hands. 

“Jungkook—”

“How long?” He asks, voice cracking. He’s clenching the paper so hard that his knuckles are turning white, like he can’t believe the words that he’s reading. “How long have you been free to go?”

“Listen, I can explain—”

“A week? A month? When were you going to tell me?” He pleads. When you can’t even muster up the dignity to look at him, he shouts. “When?”

“A month,” you tell him weakly, desperately. 

“A month? You’ve been staying here for a month when you didn’t even need to?” He asks, and he isn’t angry, or furious, or full of rage. He looks helpless, like there is no longer light behind his eyes, twinkles in his irises. Like he’s in pain, like he’s hurt. Exposed, his walls broken down and nothing left to repair them. “When were you going to tell me? Were you ever going to say anything?”

“Yes, Jungkook, but I—”

“All this time,” he says, more to himself than to you, like he can’t believe how foolish he’s been. “All this time you’ve been using me? Using my money?”

“No, Jungkook, it’s not like that.” You are desperate, desperate to salvage what you can from this broken arrangement, desperate to start anew. 

“Then what is it like?” He demands. “If you weren’t using me for my house, or my money, or my personal chef, then what is it? What did you want from me that you couldn’t get on your own?”

You stop. Why did you stay? Normalcy? Opportunity? Company? All things that you never dreamed of having in a million years. And while being with Jungkook did provide you with all three, none of them feel quite right.

“I don’t know, I just—” You begin, scrambling for the right words and feeling like nothing you say will be correct. “I didn’t want to go back just yet.” It’s a pitiful excuse. 

“So you just decided to stay? To play along with me, with all of the things that I was doing with you, for you?” Jungkook shakes where he stands in front of you, blindsided. “Let me teach you how to cook and give you expensive jewelry and take you out to fancy dinners? Just for fun?”

“I never asked for you to do those things for me,” you remind him firmly. It’s not like you were scrounging for money from his pockets, selling insignificant gold sculptures on the black market to buff up your empty bank account. “You wanted to.”

“Because I thought we had something special, Y/N,” Jungkook admits helplessly, collapsing back on the couch. “I did those things because I felt it, Y/N. What you were talking about, that night at the pool, where you saw me sitting at the edge of the water. I felt it. With you,” he begs, hopeless and anguished. “I didn’t understand what it meant to make the magic feel special again until I did it for you. I turned your bracelet and it made me feel like I had something to give to others.”

“You know that that’s not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head. “I was talking about your gift, not us.”

“Aren’t they all the same, though? Magic? Powers? Love? Don’t they all make us feel like we have something special beneath our fingertips?” He asks, to you, to himself, to the moon and the stars, searching for an answer that none of you can give him. 

“Love? You don’t mean that,” you say, refusing to admit it. You have no explanation as to why Jungkook did the things he did, just as much as you don’t have an explanation as to why you did the things you did. They just happened. 

“I thought we had something,” Jungkook admits sadly, unable to even bring his head up to look at you, at the tears that are welling in your eyes, the ones you refuse to let fall. “And I thought the reason that you wanted to do all of those things with me was because you felt it, too.”

“Jungkook, you know that—”

“What?” He erupts. “What do I know? I know that you’ve been using me all of this time, that you did those things with me because you were getting freebies out of it. I know that I was foolish and—and stupid to think that maybe it was because you were falling in love with me just like I was falling in love with you.”

“Jungkook…” You reach out a trembling hand, wanting to feel the warmth of his body once more, the weight of his head in your palm. 

“Don’t,” he says, swatting it away and standing up. “I get it, Y/N. I was stupid and I thought that we had something, when we don’t.” He turns back to look at you, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get the image out of your head, the sight of him, broken and beaten and empty, a shell of the beautiful, vibrant man you had become so attached to. “There’s nothing left for you here. Your services are no longer required.”

He disappears down the hallway, leaving you with nothing but a tote bag, a necklace, and a bracelet left for you to remember him. 

When you step into your house for the first time in months, it feels even less inviting than it normally does. Which is, as far as you’re concerned, rather impressive, considering you’ve always dreaded coming back regardless of what happened throughout the day. 

But now, you can name no place you would rather not be than in this graffiti-laden house, a dangling light bulb above the back entrance and dirt and dust all along the walls. You’ve never had time to fix up this place and make it look even the slightest bit presentable, never had the money to paint over the walls and get rid of the big red X on the front door. Day in and day out, this would just be a place where you could sleep, a mattress on the floor and Campbell’s soups on the cracked kitchen counters. The first thing you’d do every morning is get out. The last thing you’d want to do every night is come back. 

No place has felt like home in a long time. Not since your mother died, when you lost how her smile would light up a room, how she would spin you in circles and kiss your forehead when you got scared that you were going too fast. You had almost forgotten what it meant to have a home, to have a place that felt sacred, like coming home to a warm hug and a steaming cup of tea. To have a place that you didn’t dread returning to, a place that you could gladly waste away in. 

The bracelet that dangles from your wrist is the closest thing that you have left to the feeling of home, of comfort and warmth and solace, of something that makes you feel truly happy. But now, the bracelet has been tinted with the memories of another, of the only other person you can think of that has brought you that same feeling of joy, of these rose-stained memories that rest deep within your heart’s attic. They have always been there, hidden, buried beneath the bad, but when there is nothing left they surface. To remind you of what good life can bring you. 

To remind you of the magic inside you. 

You hate living here. And for a time, you hated living with Jungkook, too. Hated how extravagant his house was, hated how he refused to even speak to you. How there were so many unused rooms, so many empty spaces. But what changed, there, and what hasn’t changed, here, is how people, and not things, are what fill up rooms. 

Living with Jungkook made you feel like coming back after a long day was worth it. Planted the knowledge inside you that you would always have him there, could always rely on another’s presence within the apartment. He’s only one person, but he fills up the room like nothing else, lights it up like New Year’s Eve. He’s funny, and witty, and gorgeous. He’s caring and honest and cheeky, just cocky enough for it to be charming as opposed to egotistical. He cooks like nothing else and spends his sleepless nights beneath the stars, looking at the same moon and sky as everyone else. 

You don’t hate living here because it’s shit. You hate living here because it’s lonely. 

There was a space in your heart that you didn’t even realize was empty. It had been overtaken by the part of you determined to make it to the next day, determined to stick it to the Realm, to its leaders, to all of the people that look down on you because you aren’t made of money. 

But when you left Jungkook’s house, you realized that that space had slowly been filled up with him. That over time, bit by bit, moment by moment, Jungkook returned what you had lost, revived what you thought had long been dead. 

The truth is that you wanted to stay with Jungkook because you couldn’t stomach the thought of being alone again. Of being forced to fend for yourself, forced to come home to an empty house with no one to waste away the night with. Of being forced to live like every day is a threat rather than a gift. 

Jungkook has magic in his fingertips and his heart. It was only a matter of time before it spread to you as well. 

Being hurt by someone you love feels like an arrow to the chest. Like a puncture wound, deep and piercing, but too painful to even want to pull it out, patch up the hole. You had already experienced it once. You didn’t have any plans on experiencing it again. 

But losing the opportunity to love someone feels like an ache throughout your whole body, this crippling sort of pain that spreads through your bloodstream, setting every organ it passes on fire. It feels like there is something tearing you apart from the inside out, like every piece of you is slowly crumbling. 

Jungkook’s biggest mistake wasn't falling in love with you. It was thinking that you were still falling in love with him, when the truth is, you had already fallen. It was letting you leave when both of you wanted nothing more than for you to stay. 

Loving someone is a gamble. It’s a risk, a toe in the water, a spark from your fingers. 

But not loving someone? That is magic, wasted. 

Who knew twenty dollars could get you one large pizza and extra garlic rolls? Certainly not you. 

The smell wafts through the hallway to Jungkook’s apartment, filling it with the scent of warm, fresh bread, of a hot meal waiting to be devoured. If you don’t knock soon, the pizza will go cold and you’ll probably eat all of it before you can even say hello to him. You have more food in your hands now than you have the past week you’ve been back at your old place. 

You ring the doorbell. 

 “Coming!” Jungkook shouts. Oh, is he expecting someone?

Ten seconds later the door opens to reveal someone you hardly even recognize. Gone are the soft loose strands of hair and oversized button down shirts. Jungkook opens the door still wearing his suit jacket, tie tight around his neck, like he hasn’t bothered to change since he got home from work over two hours ago. His hair is sleek and straight, a little shorter than you last remember it. He looks the way he did when you first met him, this rigid, workaholic guy that doesn’t care about anybody except himself. He looks like he’s done nothing but work for a week. Not even sleep. 

“Hi,” you begin, a short, quick intake of breath. “Did you order a pizza?”

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head, already starting to close the door. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”

“Wait, Jungkook, please? I need to talk to you,” you plead, a hand going out to stop him from shutting you out completely. All that you can see through the crack of space between the door and its frame are his piercing brown eyes, absolutely unreadable. He doesn’t budge. “Also, did you just get back from work? You must be starving. And as it so happens, I have an entire large pizza that I won’t be able to finish all by myself.”

Jungkook budges a little bit. 

“Please?”

“Fine,” he says reluctantly, opening the door. “I hope you aren’t planning on staying here too long, this time.”

The words are biting cold, send angry shivers down your spine. 

“Just enough for you to hear me out,” you say, placing the pizza box on the coffee table as Jungkook rummages through his kitchen for plates. He eventually manifests two paper ones—you didn’t even know he had those!—and returns, taking a seat on the carpet as he inhales the cheesy, greasy scent. 

Your stomach grumbles, but you can’t eat just yet. First, you have to explain yourself. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Jungkook asks, cold and distant, the same way he spoke to all of his employees before you encouraged him to do otherwise. “If it’s about my company, we can compensate you as necessary for your contribution. It won’t be much, though.”

“No, no, it’s not about that,” you say with a shake of your head. “It’s about us.”

“What ‘us’ is there to talk about?” He asks economically. 

“The ‘us’ that I left behind that day,” you say softly, a gentle reminder. “The ‘us’ I should have realized existed before I let the door shut behind me.”

“If you’re just here to tell me that you’re sorry for not loving me back, don’t,” Jungkook says bitterly. “I don’t expect you to love me back or anything. You can’t change how you feel about people.”

“You still love me?” You ask, a spark, a flash, a ray of light. 

Jungkook grumbles. “Yes. It doesn’t go away that easily.” 

“You aren’t stupid, or foolish, or idiotic for thinking that I was falling in love with you at the same time that you were falling in love with me,” you tell him, the words light and airy, like weights plucked off of your chest, like butterflies released from a jar. “You were stupid for thinking that I wasn’t already in love with you.”

Jungkook’s head jerks up, eyes blinking wildly. You can see the way that they glisten, with hope, with tears, with desperation. With the possibility that not all is lost. 

That old memories can become new once more. 

“You were right,” you muse, more to yourself than to anyone else. Even Jungkook. “Magic, powers, love, they’re all the same thing. They are meant to be treasured. Cherished. Protected. They are meant to make us feel special.” You breathe, reaching out next to you, an open hand for Jungkook to take. “But most importantly, they are meant to be shared.”

A small smile. A lip half-turned up, this gentle little grin. 

“I stayed because I wanted to keep sharing my life with you, Jeon Jungkook,” you tell him honestly, because it’s real and it’s true. Because, at this point, you can imagine nothing else. “And I’m here again because I can’t stand living without you anymore. I never want to stop sharing my life with you.”

“You make me feel like my heart is made of magic,” Jungkook admits, finally, finally, finally. “You make me want to use it just for you.”

“You don’t need to,” you say, pressing yourself into him, letting your lips hover above his own. He reaches a hand out, lets it rest on your waist, waiting desperately for you to close the last inch between the two of you. “You’re already made of it.”

With that, you close the gap, pressing your lips against his, the soft sweet cherry taste of his lip balm filling up your senses, leaving you gasping for air. It’s just a kiss, just a press of lips, this simple gesture, but it takes your breath away nevertheless. It makes you feel like magic swirls inside of you, like your heart is sparking, catching fire, sending it sizzling through your veins. Jungkook has taught you what it means for a house to become a home. You have taught him that magic is only special if he has someone to share it with. 

It’s hard to think about the lessons you would have never learned without the other. 

It’s hard to think about how different life would be, had you never even met. 

Jungkook kisses you and it feels like you’re finally whole. It feels like what has been missing in your life has returned. What you have kept locked up, in the dusty, cobwebbed corners of your heart, in the spaces between your bones, has finally been remembered. 

Jungkook takes your old memories and turns them new. He is the only thing you ever want to remember.

“I love you,” he whispers, watching as the words sink into your skin, leaving embers in their wake. “You are my most precious gift.”

“You are my home, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur. “I love you, too.”

Pizza is good and all, but nothing beats homemade kimchi stew. 

You made it all by yourself for the first time last night to celebrate Jungkook donating over a million dollars to various different animal rescues and human rights organizations, taking the kindness that he has been given and paying it forward. Besides, he can make money at the touch of a finger whenever he wants, so he might as well, right?

You also don’t accompany Jungkook at his work anymore, because you’ve gotten enough of a taste of office life and have declared it not your ideal profession, but the nice thing about that is getting the whole house to yourself while he’s gone. Not that you want to do very much without him, but napping in different bedrooms is always exciting. 

You never realized how good love makes you feel. How it lifts you up from the inside out, brightens up every day no matter how dull it is to begin with. You had forgotten. What love can do to a person. 

Jungkook always comes home and tells you about how happy his employees make him whenever they’re happy. Good feelings like joy, like laughter, like love, they are contagious. It’s a wonder that neither you nor Jungkook figured that out before you met each other. 

Well, you suppose that there’s a first for everything. 

Jungkook comes home and you can hear the door slam, even from where you’re hiding. You listen as he stops at the door, picks up the note that you left for him. 

Loser washes the dishes! ♡

You hear his keys clink in the bowl, metal on metal. He pauses for a moment, for dramatic effect. 

And then he shouts, 

“You’re on!”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[binunus]

college bf!eunwoo

a/n I LOVE HIM !! I WOULD LITERALLY RISK IT ALL FOR HIM !! also rip to the disappointing hookup experience I had that made an appearance in this headcanon...yes I’m still angry about it.

→ pairing: eunwoo x f!reader

→ genre: smut, fluff, fwb to lovers

→ tw: hookup culture, mentions of drinking and drug use, implied almost SA, this is a bit heavy compared to the other ones like please be a cautious a little when you’re reading this

→ word count: 5.6k

_______________________________

here we go ladies and gents

i had something completely different planned for this

and it was super angsty and dramatic

but i had a monumental experience last night so I’m changing this up

and okay okay

i usually try to write all my stuff gender neutral but bc of the idea I have for some of this plot, it’s gonna be a female reader

im sorry to all my male identifying loves :(

and back to our regularly scheduled program

cha motherfuckin eunwoo

lee fuckin dongmin

he doesn’t go by dongmin, he prefers to go by eunwoo, only his family calls him dongmin

as soon as he stepped foot into the university, everyone knew him

and I mean everyone

he’s so attractive

but don’t get it twisted, eunwoo’s the humblest, sweetest bean

he gets very embarrassed when people compliment him for his looks

applied for random roommates his first year and got paired up with swimmer!bin

he and bin become besties and end up rooming together their entire college career

major: music performance, specialty in piano

most people (besides those in the music department or astro) would have never thought eunwoo was a music major, especially since he was incredibly smart and athletic too???

usually gets mistaken for a STEM major

often helps the boys (especially rocky and sanha) with their studies

and oof when he tries out for–and makes it into–the basketball team

everyone ???? floored

eunwoo has game on the court...now with dating??? eh not so much

(at least not sober shh)

he’s tried dating before, at least in the first year or so

the basketball team kept trying to set him up with people

but it never got anywhere substantial and eunwoo always trusted astro to really give the vibe check and no one ever passed

and so he settled for hookup culture every now and then

his emotions are guarded :’(

yes he’s very easy to talk to and always so nice and well mannered

but he’s only himself with astro

now, where do you come into this???

you’re a cheerleader

you and eunwoo know each other by association

you cheer for his home games, you’ve been in a couple of classes together, you’ve seen each other at parties

but would you call yourselves friends?? not really

now you know it’s highly unlikely for you to have a lasting boyfriend in college, especially with your affiliation as a cheerleader, so you also opt for hookup culture

less messy feelings, less drama, less commitment, all that fun

so the first time your paths really intertwine with eunwoo is at a party

the basketball team won a big game and they were out celebrating yuh

and ofc since it’s his team, eunwoo popped out

he only really attends parties hosted by the basketball team bc he feels a bit obligated to go LOL but he always brings swimmer!bin for support 

and it’s chill bc bin is also an athlete–yes it’s exclusive like that

but this time, bin couldn’t go so it’s just eunwoo hanging with his team

and yes, you can guess it, you and him get partnered up to play beer pong together!

that’s so cliche omg

but ah ha you hear your opponent, one of eunwoo’s teammates say to one of your fellow cheerleaders: don’t worry baby, I’ll carry you through this game

and you cringed a little ugh men

eunwoo turns to you like: ah sorry if we lose, it’s all luck with me. The guys usually pick to play me bc I’ll probably lose. I’ll drink the cups for you though if you want me to.

you get a little fired up, like aw why do they pick on him that’s not fair

you: well I’m not horrible at pong, so let’s try to crush em

he played pretty well ok! you both got balls back twice in a row right in the beginning

your team was on a roll

you and eunwoo won three games back to back

you were feeling a bit bloated and hazy from the beer that you and him had to drink, but you were still pretty self aware

and you and eunwoo were just chilling after playing the games, you two were on a pretty good wavelength and you wanted to continue it after joking around in between plays

alright now obviously you don’t go into these parties just strictly looking for a hookup, you go to have fun and let loose

but if the person and situation arises??? you wouldn’t necessarily turn it down, especially if that person was cha eunwoo

and yeah, eunwoo was entertaining the idea too, it’s been a while since he vibed with someone like he has with you

basically by the end of the night, you brought him back to your place–you’d rather eat shit than hook up at the basketball house, it was messy and musty and just nope

your place was closer than his

and ~yuh~

it was pretty damn good

he didn’t stay the night, bc well this was a hookup, so after you both had your fill it was a casual alright see you around!

oh lord the fuss your cheerleading team gave you at the next practice asking how your hookup with eunwoo was

the news spread like wildfire

eunwoo didn’t hook up very often so every time he did, it was like breaking news

which is honestly a bit fucked up, but seriously this is how college is

alright so your sex drive skyrocketed after fucking eunwoo 

you hook up with another guy at one of the following parties

but it didn’t compare to eunwoo rip so you were pretty disappointed

and you were sorta wondering like hm? should you hit him up? but decided against it 

and then! you saw him at the gym working out with literally all of astro

bin probably forced the other 4 to come with him and eunwoo sksksksk

and you were like shit why does he look so good

not gonna lie, just in case he was looking over, you tried to make your ass and tits pop out a bit more, you know squats and shit

unfortunately, it caught the attention of other guys at the gym and not eunwoo grrr

and you were literally just planning to stop being a coward and go up and talk to him, but a guy blocked your path

and he was lowkey being very creepy and way too close for your liking

but you weren’t having it, hell no you ain’t a damsel in distress

being a cheerleader taught you how to defend yourself against predatory men

so you were basically telling him to fuck off and leave you alone, but he was being really damn persistent about it

and just as the guy was about to put a hand on you, eunwoo steps in and he’s like: dude, she’s clearly not interested, fuck off.

after a bit of a stare off, the guy leaves and wow you’re face to face with eunwoo again hehehe

his eyes switch from a glare to a soft worried look and he’s like, hey are you okay?

and you’re like a little giddy, maybe also a little bit turned on bc he’s still like fresh from a workout, his hair was brushed back revealing his forehead, his arm muscles were really defined right now, and just he’s so hot? 

but you smile nonchalantly, you genuinely could have just slapped the shit out of the guy or kicked him right in the baby factory, but eunwoo stepping in was also a pleasant surprise, you weren’t complaining

you: yeah. I could have handled it, but thanks for helping

and he just grins, your confidence?? attractive

the two of you just like look at each other for a couple seconds and you’re yelling at yourself in your head like don’t cop out this is what you were waiting for !!

you: so...you’re here with your friends?

eunwoo: yeah, me and my roommate forced them to come work out with us haha. did you come by yourself?

you: yeah, I usually work out with my teammates, but I decided to come alone today

eunwoo nods and you see him like look at your neck and you immediately get a bit shy bc you knew there was a hickey there from your last (very disappointing) hookup: you’ve been having fun recently?

your face flushes: the last one was embarrassing really, so honest to god no

eunwoo: why was it embarrassing? if...you don’t mind me asking

you immediately facepalm: no, yeah I don’t mind telling you...ugh, eunwoo I was literally catfished. this guy really talked mad game about his dick and then when I agreed to hook up, he asked me to suck him off and it literally only took him less than ten minutes. and after he came, he just pulled up his pants and said “damn you give really good head” like the fuck? he didn’t even offer to return the favor or anything, and when I asked him “wait, are we gonna fuck?” he just said “maybe next time.” maYbE neXt tiMe?? I was played so hard, you have no idea how pissed I was, eunwoo. and now I have to wait for his dumb fucking hickey to heal so that I can literally just repress that hookup even happened.

his jaw literally dropped: he didn’t give you anything?

you shook your head, you were getting pissed again 

eunwoo couldn’t believe his ears, he glances back at astro for a second and then he clears his throat: well...what are you doing after the gym?

you: nothing, just going home and taking a shower. My roommate’s not gonna be home tonight so I’m probably gonna wallow in my sorrows about that hookup again

he laughs: well sounds like you have a fun night planned, but if you want some company?? I’d be more than happy to come over and help you forget about the sad disrespect of that hookup.

who said eunwoo couldn’t flirt ???

and he was thinking about hitting you up again too before but he didn’t wanna seem like a fuckboy or anything

but seeing you defend yourself against the guy?? lowkey was a bit of turn on for him

obviously you agreed hello

eunwoo going up to astro: so uh...imma head out first...I’ll see you guys later. :)

sanha: hyung so scandalous *O*

you and eunwoo fuck again

and after this time, the two of you have a little bit of pillow talk

basically you tell him that fucking him ruined all other guys for you bc he was just that good

and eunwoo usually gets shy from compliments, but his ego with this one??? he felt a bit proud ohohoho

and he’s like: honestly, you’re the only person I’ve fucked in six months, but I gotta agree that our sexual chemistry is pretty good

so where do you two go from there?

friends with benefits baby, full on fuck buddies

you both talk and agree that you two weren’t looking for relationships at the moment, but the sex was good

i’m gonna get into specifics later, but for now a little more plot

obviously, you and eunwoo talk a lot more now that you two were basically fucking each other at least once a week

the guys notice that he’s so much more?? carefree?? less stressed out?? ever since you and him started your little agreement

and they’re already scheming by themselves, like eunwoo would not get into a situation like this unless he trusted you as a person

and at first it was really just, call each other over, have sex, stay for a little bit longer, then leave

neither of you ever stayed the night bc that’s just an unspoken rule

until there was this one party, a group of people were in one of the rooms at the basketball house and they told you to come join them and ~do drugs~

don’t dabble kids, I’m serious

and you were chilling with eunwoo and bin for a bit until they called you over and you were like: wanna try too?

eunwoo and bin didn’t do it obviously, but you were curious so you went and told them you would be back in a bit

eunwoo was worried about you, bin could see it from a mile away

he kept glancing back at the room and one by one people started to come out, but none of them were you

bin nudging eunwoo: go check up on her

eunwoo opens the door to see you being like pinned down on the bed and he turns livid

he pulls the guy off you and punches him right in the face like: what the fuck do you think you’re doing? what did you give her?

you’re noticeably out of it, sobriety? not there

the guy basically laced something in the drug he gave you, omg you were roofied??

bin comes in and he literally has to hold eunwoo back from beating the shit out of the other guy

the two take you back to their apartment and were making sure that you didn’t die or something shit

literally cannot believe the first time you slept over at eunwoo’s place was when you were drugged up

you wake up the next morning, nauseous, body weak, and confused

eunwoo also wakes up because of your movement: hey y/n, are you okay?

you: eunwoo...what...what happened last night??

he sits up and gives you a recount of the party and you just like hug your body tightly when he brings up the drugs and start crying

he’s a bit shocked when he sees your tears, but he just pulls you in for a hug to try and comfort you, obviously that must have been a bit traumatic

eunwoo: hey...it’s okay...I’m just glad I checked up on you before something worse happened

you: I’m such a fucking idiot...I can’t believe I let myself get put in that situation again...no wonder people think I’m a just a dumb whore.

~trauma~

you and him spill your deepest darkest most traumatizing secrets that morning and you just feel more connected to him

you: I honestly never really told anyone...thanks eunwoo, you’re a good friend.

he feels more protective of you after that??

you start hanging around with him and astro more

and the guys really like having you around !!

you’re very easy to get along with, you also joke and tease eunwoo with them, they love you !

you even become really friendly with the other guys’ partners

about half a year into your fuck buddy relationship with eunwoo

everyone: why aren’t you dating y/n yet?

eunwoo: what do you mean?? we’re just friends...with benefits??

before you even know it, you’re spending literally all your time (when you’re not training or practicing or at class) with eunwoo and his friends

you sleep more at eunwoo’s than you do at your own apartment

honestly you two are already acting like a couple

except for the fact that you only kiss each other when you’re fucking, or you don’t hold hands in public, or you don’t say the L word to each other obviously

but the cuddles? the jokes? the hanging out? if you two are seen together there’s still a little form of physical touch––like a hand on the waist, or resting his elbow on your shoulder––something that tells other people that you two are a bit exclusive to each other

and maybe it’s because both of your emotional capacities when it comes to relationships are akin to a pubescent thirteen year old, but you and eunwoo?? don’t really realize that you’re both basically in love with each other

and it’s also the fact that catching feelings in a friends with benefits?? forbidden

but what if both people catch feelings?

you don’t realize you like eunwoo until a year of fucking each other

damn a year?? y’all really suppressed those romantic feelings hard

you and him were hanging out, per usual, but in the piano rooms of the music building

eunwoo had to practice his repertoire for an upcoming performance and you were free so you decided to come along and keep him company

you knew he was a music major and that he played piano, but you never actually heard him play

you were just chilling by the window, scrolling through your phone, and then he just starts playing and your jaw?? literally dropped

it was so intricate and fluid and elegant, you looked over to the keys and his hands just moved so expertly over them

you were put in a trance, it was so beautiful??

and then you look up and his concentration? seriousness? he has honestly never looked more attractive to you than in that moment

and then eunwoo meets your eyes and he smiles a little: is it bad?

you: no, you’re amazing actually...

and your stomach does a triple somersault and your cheeks start heating up, like why is your heart going haywire???

you start spacing out and obviously he notices

eunwoo calls your name and pats the space next to him on the piano bench

eunwoo: what are you thinking of, hm?

you: n-nothing. keep playing, I wanna hear more

and so he does and your heart just won’t chill out, especially now that you’re literally sitting mere centimeters apart from him

he’s still playing and you just can’t stop thinking about how much you want to kiss him–and not in a sexual way

and that honestly scared you, so you panicked and put your hand near his crotch

eunwoo jolts in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything, he just chuckles and continues playing

do you have sex in the piano room to try and distract yourself from whatever you were feeling? yeah

you hide your feelings for a little bit, but the more time you spent with him, the stronger they got, and you honestly didn’t know what to do

so you tried distancing yourself, you gave eunwoo the excuse that cheerleading competitions were coming up–which they were, so it wasn’t a complete lie–and you needed to focus and have time to yourself

it was so weird for you not seeing him and astro all the time, you barely responded to his text messages or calls, and when you saw him around campus, you would immediately try to avoid him, and it hurt but you were ~scared~

eunwoo’s a smart boy, he knew something was off with you

but after a week of trying to contact you, he didn’t wanna seem annoying or a bother, so he tried not to

even though all he wanted was to see you or talk to you, like it was beyond sex at this point

he missed you, he thought he was going to go insane

he didn’t realize his feelings for you until he saw you talking to a guy in the athletic building

he had basketball practice, and you just finished your cheerleading practice

you were talking to this one guy from your philosophy class, basically joking around and talking shit about your professor

and eunwoo saw you smile at something the guy said and he just felt jealous

his fists clenched, he hated seeing you smile and laugh with the guy like how you used to do with him

and it also didn’t help that you and him haven’t really talked in two or three weeks and he just missed you so much :(

he tried not to think about it during his practice, but it didn’t work, he was off his game for this one, even his teammates and coach noticed it

he went back to his place after practice and called over the boys and basically vented his frustrations

jin: eunwoo. you like y/n

eunwoo: I know...fuck what do I do

bin: tell her, obviously

eunwoo: and risk our?? friendship??

myungjun: you’re a fucking idiot if you don’t see that she likes you back

rocky: yeah...I mean why else do you think noona started distancing herself from you?

eunwoo: maybe I’m just feeling like this because we haven’t met up in a while and I saw her talking to that guy and I don’t know? I’m horny?

sanha: hyung...you sound indenial and jealous.

bin: you like her. we’re surprised you didn’t realize this earlier.

anyway, the day of the competition comes, and the guys and their partners decide to pop out and support you

and seeing them actually made you feel so warm, you wave at them brightly and you meet eyes with eunwoo and you smile at him even though the butterflies are back and at full force

the group is so proud watching you and your team compete, their cheers are debatably the loudest and you literally have to stop yourself from laughing in the middle of your routine

your school places first yuh

and after talking with your team and discussing celebration plans, you go to the group

you were having such an adrenaline rush, you immediately run up to eunwoo in a crushing hug and you kiss him

eunwoo doesn’t even hesitate to kiss you back

astro and them: ohohoho hey

you: I’m so happy you all came! I can’t believe we actually won!

you were going to celebrate with your team bc you knew they were throwing a party, but celebrating with eunwoo and astro/their partners seemed way more appealing to you

you all go out to dinner and drink a little bit casually and it’s all such good vibes

you missed hanging around with them all and it just felt so right

eunwoo rested his hand on your thigh the whole time throughout dinner, he missed you alright, and just seeing you so happy with all his friends? he was hooked

when the group parts ways, it’s just you and eunwoo heading back to his place bc bin is spending the night at his partner’s apartment

and honestly the tension is so thick between you two

you barely make it past the door before you’re both latched onto each other, making out and all that steamy stuff

after you have sex, the two of you are having that post-sex cuddle in his bed and your heart is pounding so loud

you: hey...I’m sorry if it was weird that I kissed you earlier at the venue, I don’t really know what came over me, I was just so glad to see you guys

eunwoo: you don’t have to apologize for that y/n...I missed you

you roll around so that your back is to him bc you do not have the strength to look at him in the eyes right now

eunwoo hugs your waist and pulls you in his chest, he’s spooning you and he has no plans on letting you go any time soon

you: uh...eunwoo, I-we-uh maybe we should stop this...thing from going any further

he literally freezes: ...did I do something wrong?

you: no! it’s...I...fuck I don’t know how to say this...I know we’ve been hooking up for a year but just recently I...think I have feelings for you...and it’s not fair for either of us to continue this if we’re not on the same page.

eunwoo: y/n, I–

you’re rambling now, you’re scared of what he has to say: and honestly you’ve become someone I really don’t wanna lose in my life. You’re an amazing person and friend, and I don’t wanna fuck that up by having feelings for you, especially since you probably don’t feel the same. I just...can’t have casual sex with you anymore...I’m sorry, it would break me.

you’re like trying to get up and you tell him that you’re going to go to the party your team’s hosting but he just tightens his grip

eunwoo: don’t go...please

you: eunwoo, I can’t stay here–

eunwoo: you don’t even know what I feel, y/n...why are you so sure that I don’t feel the same way as you?? because I do...honest to god, y/n, I like you so fucking much. the month that you didn’t talk to me was like hell and I don’t ever wanna experience that again. I missed you so much I thought I was going crazy...please don’t go.

you roll around and face him again

you: y-you like me? you’re not just saying that because you want to keep having sex?

eunwoo: I’m not just saying that because of the sex...I promise

you: so...what does that make us now?

eunwoo: well would you do me the honors and be my girlfriend?

god finally you two are dating

you realize that not much really changes after the two of you make it official

the pda does increase though, you actually hold hands and kiss each other in public now

and you two are more cutesy with each other

yes astro pretends to gag whenever they see you act all coupley

petnames!! you call each other baby, sometimes you call him minnie!! as in dongminnie !! im screaming!!

a poster couple, the basketball player and the cheerleader

literally when you’re both wearing your uniforms and you kiss each other, it’s like one of those teen movies

lots of forehead kisses especially right before bed

eunwoo’s a clingy cuddly boy, especially now that you two are together

lots of study dates?? he is a scholar after all

you’re each other’s biggest supporters !! you always go to all of his recitals and basketball games, he always goes to your competitions

he’s very soft okay, will never stop showing you off or telling you how much you mean to him and how much he loves you

the first I love you came shortly in the relationship, and that’s because you’ve known each other a year prior and the feelings were really just building up since then

you were in the piano room again and he was just playing for fun, but you always loved hearing him ~tickle those ivories~

he was playing a song and singing along and you swear you had heart eyes for him, his voice was so soft and gentle and just wow

you’re sitting next to him and you just hug his waist while he’s playing

eunwoo’s smiling so wide and then he’s singing to you 

he doesn’t even get to finish the song, because you’re grabbing his face and kissing him 

he’s laughing in between kisses and you can’t help but laugh with him

grrr he’s so cute!

and then you two are just looking at each other

eunwoo: hm? 

you: I love you, minnie

he doesn’t miss a beat: I love you too, y/n

you and him have a lot of deep talks together, especially right before bed

it’s the time when he can just let out all the frustrations of the day and just be with you

he actually holds a lot of pressure and worries, but knowing that you’re by his side, comforts him a lot

the two of you have so many pictures together it’s so cute

eunwoo’s a bit possessive alright, not in the toxic way, but will he tighten his grip on your waist if a guy seems to be getting a little too friendly with you? yeah

not gonna lie, you get possessive too, it’s hard especially if your boyfriend is cha eunwoo, he’s the fucking perfect package god dammit

you both tell each other that you don’t have to worry about other people bc y’all are just both so whipped for each other

but it’s still cute when either of you are jealous

he’s actually pretty into couple items, but it has to be like minimalistic-style

like matching plain color hoodies or matching pajama sets

will not wear a “he’s mine, she’s mine” shirt or something

but it’s okay bc neither would you sksksk

will he wink at you if he makes a three pointer during his game? yeah.

literally loves when you wear his clothes or fuck, his jersey?? a turn on

and here we go !! I’ve been talking about sex so much but let’s get into it !!

in the beginning, like before you two started dating, when it was just your fuck buddy friendship, it was sexy

and not saying that it’s not sexy now that you two were in a relationship, but before it was just lust

eunwoo’s a freak alright, you can’t convince me otherwise

he’s a little kinky

definitely into food play, you two use whipped cream during foreplay a little too much...

100% into anal

you know how much he loves ass, has a very nice ass himself

and we already been knew, but yes he’s an ass guy

s p a n k i n g

eunwoo seeing you in your cheerleading skirt? immediate turn on

will literally fuck you while you’re wearing your skirt...just your skirt.

alright alright, you have a hand kink...was it awoken by watching eunwoo play piano all the time? yes

does eunwoo use that to his advantage? yes

the amount of times he’s fingered you??? vaginal and anal??? lord have mercy

very much into overstimulation, will keep fingering you until you squirt

and yes im bringing back my the choking kink

literally if his hands make any contact with your neck area, even when he’s just kissing, you will drench

but ugh you and eunwoo making out and you know how he like cups the back of the neck?? i know y’all have seen it from the true beauty kiss scenes, and then it gets heated and his grip just moves to the front and squeezes and when your mouth opens in a gasp, he shoves his tongue down your throat

that’s so sexy

do you like choking on his cock? probably more than you should

does he make you deep throat until tears are literally streaming down your face? most definitely

he loves marking you?? it’s just a tell tale way to show everyone you’re his

he’s a bit feisty...will he manhandle you during sex?? yeah

eunwoo is a dom. I am 100% convinced that he is a dom, you won’t be domming him honey

daddy and babygirl kink...I said it...

okay he’s a bit of an exhibitionist...would probably be down to have sex anywhere as long as you don’t get caught

piano room sex? locker room sex? library sex? movie theater sex? restaurant bathroom sex? yes you’ve done it all

will he finger you while you guys are having a movie night with the guys? yeah

eunwoo’s a tease, he’s a little shit, will tease you until you’re literally in tears begging for him to just do something

favorite position is doggy, it’s the view of the ass for him

although you two both do like experimenting different positions, especially if it has to do with “training your flexibility”

will pull your hair while he’s fucking you from behind, and will plug your asshole with his thumb–don’t knock it until you try it...it’s...a pretty good feeling

sometimes wakes you up by eating you out

very much a giver ugh king

the type to grip your thighs tighter when you try to push him away from overstimulation just to force another orgasm out of you

believe it or not, he’s a gasper/grunter/groaner

nothing is hotter than hearing eunwoo groan right when he’s about to cum oooof grrrr bark bark

okay but soft gentle sex with eunwoo is so passionate

all you feel is the love and sincerity, especially when he’s just looking in your eyes

the love making happens a lot more obviously when you start dating

he’s just so in love with you alright

gives the best and sweetest after care ugh

cleans you up, gives you massages especially if it was a rough session, cuddles you, draws you a bath, brings you water, everything

always makes sure to tell you he loves you after sex

i would risk it all for eunwoo like please ruin my life

anyway

ugh I just wanna put the idea of protective eunwoo during a party in your head

his hand is always on you. waist, thigh, shoulder, anywhere casually

you don’t fight?? but you do argue

arguing is healthy, and you both would rather let it out and bicker with each other in the moment than let it bottle in and build up into something worse

but when you do have a disagreement, no matter how big or small, you two always make sure to never go to bed angry with each other

communication is very important for the both of you

you’re his better half :’) all the things eunwoo struggles with, you help him with it and vice versa

he figured out you were the one for him during one of your deep late night pillow talks

he was worried about what he’d do in the future after graduating, like he was genuinely having a crisis about it

but you just talked so calmly to him: baby, no matter where you end up after graduation or what you end up doing, you’re going to be fine. You’re such a hard worker and I know that you’ll succeed...no matter what, I’ll be here for you minnie. I believe in you, you’re future is going to be great.

and he just kisses you so sweetly: will you be in my future, baby?

you’re smiling and you just giggle at him: if you want me to be...I’d love to be a part of it.

ugh y’all are so whipped for each other !!

astro always teasing you two, even when you’re all older

you and eunwoo are equally ticklish so basically y’all are fucked when they wanna mess with you

both of your families love you and him instantly

they push marriage immediately after you both graduate college

even astro’s like: we know you two are probably gonna tie the knot first...when’s the wedding?

not gonna lie, you and eunwoo probably get married probably 2-3 years after college, pretty young age

sidenote: eunwoo 100% cries at your wedding, especially when he sees you walking down the isle in your dress

and he has huge baby fever so you bet y’all had kids fairly young too

the best dad !! ugh he loves kids !! ugh so domestic

im just gonna say, y’all have beautiful children

trusts bin and jinjin to babysit your kids the most...he’s scared of the rest of the boys watching over his children

anyway eunwoo literally deserves the world and I just?? love him so much?? happy ending yay hehe

_________________________________________

2-21-21

[liquid-luck-00]

Where There Is Change

Overprotection

@maribat-bdbwm

First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

One week.

One week without her brother is all it took to break her patience.

No, she didn’t break away from her story with the press release that happened literally two days after she started school.

No, what finally broke her was what the students did to her brother, specifically this group of five that were intentionally seeking out places she was that in order to talk about her family.

Sure, she understood why they talked about Damian, he is Gotham's Ice Prince, the person you do not want to get on the bad side of.

But moments that she wasn’t with him, people spoke awfully about him. And mostly about how he was born as a bastard child.

She pretty much assumes that when she’s not around they speak the same about her.

Both of them were conceived without his knowledge, until years later. Sure, it hurts to hear them talk about her dad like that.

But she also understands it to an extent.

Brucie Wayne, is an act he puts up. Brucie Wayne is a playboy the longer someone plays the playboy people, will come to the conclusion of him having several unknown children.

However, she also knows Brucie Wayne is a cover for her father, in the past twenty years or so since the time he pretty much became Batman, Brucie Wayne has been a cover. So much so that even the media plays into.

But what she can’t stand are the remarks her 'peers' make about her little brother, about all her siblings.

The remarks that, she is technically the older biological child. But that she still deserves a chair in the company. She is so mad that they are dismissing all of Tim's work he's put into the company. That they are dismissing her brothers just because she is the first-born biological child, that she should be the next C.E.O. People talk over him as if he isn’t there.

They talk about Jason, how he is the troubled child. That he ruins their father's name.

That Dick is just a novelty for Bruce. The first child he decide to adopt. That he’s no more than that, Bruce Wayne’s first ward.

She hates that they call Cassandra a basket case because she won’t talk.

Or how Duke is yet another charity case, simply because of his skin color.

They forget about her because she looks so American, so white, so European.

They forget that she is part Chinese, because she has such big blue eyes, fair skin, and dark black hair just like her father.

---

So back to school.

Damian was on assignment with the Teen Titans, so she was going to school alone. They said something about Damian getting an awful constant 103 fever, they didn’t want to risk anyone else to catch what he had.

So, she did what she usually did, she went outside like usual during lunch. When all of a sudden, the group of five kids in her year 'seemed' to be strolling past.

She thinks it’s still hasn’t sunk in that there’s a new Wayne. Or that they know but want to haze her. Because they are openly bashing her little brother.

"I’m sorry, but what did you just say." She stood up and looked at them.

"Well not that it’s any of your business, but Damian is such a menace, he is practically a terrorist." One of the boys started.

"Have you seen how angry he gets, I swear he could blow up the school, and he’ll still get let back in." A girl butt in.

"He’s already been expelled twice, but they keep letting him back in because he’s Bruce Wayne’s son." The final boy spoke rolling his eyes and she lost it.

She grabbed him, pulled him towards her, gave him a quick punch in the nose. Forcing him to reel back stumbling away from her.

"Let’s get one thing straight." She spoke, hands clenched in fists. "My baby brother isn’t a terrorist. He may be a menace, but he’s not a terrorist. Can any of you actually tell me the reasons why he got expelled."

Silence, pure silence was heard from the entire group.

"No, you can’t. Because like you said it’s none of your goddamn fucking business." At this point her French accent was slipping into her words, because she was getting really mad. She had to physically dig her nails into her palms to stop her magic from exploding.

"So why don’t you all just mind your own fucking business and maybe pay attention who you’re talking about, around who."

The entire group turned and ran, their tails between their legs and they scrambled to get away from her. She may have been known as the approachable Wayne between the two twins, but they messed with her brother. And they really didn’t know what they were talking about.

As soon as, the bell rang to end lunch her name came across the intercom. She grabbed her things and walked to the office knowing full well what was about to happen.

What she didn’t expect that out of all the people that would have been called the person who showed up was Jason.

If she had to cover the ever-growing grin on her face, or else the adults may have figured out that this was the wrong brother to call.

"We are so sorry to have called you today Mr. Todd-Wayne, but we have to discuss your sister’s behavior." The principal spoke as both of them sat down.

"Ok I'll hear you out, but after you explain what happened she will. And neither of you guys can interrupt the other got it. So, go." He pointed at the principle.

"Your sister has been accused of physical assault of another student."

"Is this true?" He turned to her.

"Yes." She answered.

"Why?" Jason asked as he rubbed his hands down his face.

She knows he has a shit eating grin that was slowly going to be spreading across his face, because his aura was almost giddy.

"You see they’ve not only been talking shit about Damian but Tim, Duke, Cass, Dick, and even you. If you want, I have several forms of video tape and audio proof if you’d like to see those."

"But let’s get back on point. We believe that you may have broken his nose."

"Okay, but I am not going to apologize, seeing as I was protecting my little brother, who is not here to defend himself."

She looked over to her brother and the ass had a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

"Why don’t I sign my sister out for the rest of the day, you know what, what about the whole

week, because I'm assuming suspension is an option?"

The principal however didn’t know how to react to Jason, so he absentmindedly pushed a stack of papers towards Jason and pointing to where he was to sign and initial. And then allowed them to leave.

"We’re not telling Bruce, are we?" She asked quietly.

"Not unless you want to deal with that right now?"

"No."

"Then let’s see how far we can get from Gotham."

"Yes please." She enthusiastically nodded her head, as they left the city.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

Chapter 5 art by @semains​ (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

 “Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

[serendipityseulgi]

8 Ways of Love;

— park seonghwa

according to the ancient greeks, there are eight different types of love. here is:

･*:༅｡ the one known as pragma, the enduring love.

aka, the kind of love that matures and develops over a long period of time, and somewhat rare to find. 

8 ways of love series; version i

A love story that shows the progression of yours and seongwha’s relationship from the moment you two become friends, to lovers, to exes, and everything else in between. 

love catalyst: the subconscious.

At the age of six years old you declare Park Seonghwa to be your boyfriend, solidifying your “relationship” with a hug.

“Eww, y/n, you have cooties!” your best friend barks, pushing you off him.

“Wha- hey no I don’t!” you squeak.

“Yes you do because Mingi told all the boys not to touch the girls because they have a disease and it’s going to eat our bodies alive!” he practically screeches getting up from the sandbox about to walk away from you.

“Seonghwaaa he’s lying!” you whine out and he huffs turning around to face you.

“Well all the other boys are listening to him so he has to be right.” 

“Well I touched you yesterday when we were playing tag and you’re fine!” you defend. “And if all girls have cooties then how come your mommy still hugs and kisses you goodbye in the morning? Wouldn’t you be dead now?”

Even at the age of 6 you were the biggest smartass Seonghwa knew.

After a moment of deliberation, he sighs. “Okay fine, you’re right.” your friend huffs. 

“So are you gonna back so we can play again?” you ask, arms crossed over your little body. 

Seonghwa nods before grabbing onto your hand to drag you back into the sandbox. 

The two of you return to making your sandcastle and it’s only a mere two minutes later does your friend speak up.“Am I actually your boyfriend now?” he asks suddenly and you whip your head towards him.

“Well I hugged you so yeah.” you roll your eyes at him and his soft little laugh makes your tiny heart jump.

Within the next week you two forget you’re “boyfriend-and-girlfriend” and go back to being the best friends you’ve always been, playing in the sandbox after school, watching cartoons at your house, and never missing a single dinner together while your parents listen to the two of you talk your little heads off.

For the record, there wasn’t much of a difference in your so-called relationship and your friendship in the first place when you were just six years old.

 At thirteen years old, your best friend confesses he likes you.

“Okay I know this is weird because, I should see you as like, a sister or something, I don’t know!” Seonghwa rants, pacing back and forth in your bedroom as you watch him frantically explain the way he feels about you.

“You know what I mean though? You’re like, practically family to me! Right? Right...” you figure he’s talking more to himself than to you as he asks himself questions that he’s quick to answer to. “Like you’re probably gonna think I’m weird or something, but you are my best friend and I don’t want it to be weird-”

“Seonghwa for the love of god can you just get to your point.” you interrupt impatiently.

“I like you okay?” he says quietly, avoiding all eye contact with you. 

His heart is beating so fast he feels like it’s actually going to rip right through his chest. He’s never been nervous around you ever. You’re his best friend, and you have been since you were 5 years old, and he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like you’re the only girl he wants in his life. 

When he hears you laughing at him his heart drops to his stomach and he braces himself for the upcoming rejection.

“Can you come sit next to me.” you ask, gesturing to the empty spot on your bed. 

Seonghwa complies, yet his anxiety is rising by the second. He has never been so nervous in all the thirteen years he’s been alive. He almost wants to vomit as his stomach churns at the thought of you telling him you didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re rejecting me aren’t you...” he sighs, plopping down onto the spot next to you.

You shake your head with a smile. “No idiot, I like you too. Obviously.” you roll your eyes at him.

“Wait, what? Seriously??” he almost goes into shock. “Are you joking?”

“I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious.” you shrug. “I was throwing subtle signs at you for the longest time.”

“Like what?!” 

“Like the time I kept pestering you to take me to the Valentine’s Day dance, and when I made you hold my hand during that scary movie when you know I never get scared of horror films. Oh, and the time you kept badgering me about why I rejected Hongjoong for no good reason. I kept telling you that you were the only guy I needed in my life and you were too oblivious to realize I didn’t mean it in the friend way anymore.” you chuckle.

“Oh... Oh,” Seonghwa realizes. “I really am oblivious then.”

“It’s okay, I already knew you liked me back anyways.” you smirk at him, grabbing your remote off the bedside table.

You flip the TV on as you feel Seonghwa’s heavy gaze on you. “So does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asks you and you pause.

“I mean technically we never broke up when we were six so you’re basically just re-asking me out.” you tease, pulling the blankets on both your bodies as you settle on a show to watch.

“Oh god, you still remember that?” 

Of course you do. 

“Obviously, how could I forget you screaming to the entire park that I had cooties.” 

He laughs at that and you can’t help but smile widely hearing him. You both lay comfortably next to one another, watching intently at the show in front of you, yet both your minds were racing at the fact that officially, you could say you were boyfriend and girlfriend. 

“So when did you start liking me?” he asks you. 

“Honestly, I think I always did.” you answer truthfully. “But, like actually realizing my feelings for you?” you pause for a moment to think. “I think it was when you got really sick that one time and your parents were away for a business trip, and my mom made me drop off soup to your house. And I was only supposed to drop off the soup but I took care of you because even when you were all snotty and gross and barely awake to hang out with me, I kinda just realized I’d rather spend my time with you doing that than anywhere else.”

His eyes soften at you. “Aww.”

“Buuut then before that, there was also that time that Ashley told you she liked you and I got super jealous and I was actually going to shove her into a brick wall, so ...I kinda just figured...” you add.

“Way to ruin a sappy moment, moron.” Seonghwa playfully shoves you and you laugh. 

You cuddle up next to him returning your attention back to the show in front of you. Only a few minutes pass before Seonghwa speaks up again, and his question catches you off guard.

“What if we break up... like eventually?” 

You think about it for a second. “Then we go back to being best friends.”

“That easy?”

“That easy.” you nod. 

“For the record though, I don’t ever want there to be a time where I don’t like you. I hope there isn’t.” he says.

“I hope there isn’t either.” you assure, and just like that, you two go back to watching tv.

You’ve always had a soft spot for Seonghwa so it never came as a surprise to you, or anybody for that matter when you figured out you had a little crush on your best friend. 

In a hypothetical situation, if somewhere along the way your feelings ever started to fade, you still couldn’t picture a life where he wasn’t right beside you no matter what. He was your person, and he has been since you two were five. There was nobody in this world that could replace the bond you had with him.

Even at the age of thirteen, you knew you wanted Seonghwa to be there for the rest of your life.

At the age of fourteen and a half, you and Seonghwa have your first ever fight where he conveniently declares that he loves you for the first time. 

seonghwa <3; received 4:24 pm

y/n can u not be like this and talk to me :( 

plsssssss

i’m sorry

can u let me come over and talk to u

Your phone continues to buzz as you stare at it beside you, rolling your eyes at his insistent messaging.

You try your best to ignore it but the continuous beeping irritates you to no end.

you; delivered 4:26 pm

no

i’m mad at u.

seonghwa <3; received 4:26 pm

:(

you; delivered 4:27 pm

can u like do smth with ur life instead of bothering me

seonghwa <3; received 4:27 pm

ouch.

Okay, you admit. That one was a low blow and for a second you almost feel bad until you’re reminded of the fact that you were still royally pissed at him.

you; delivered 4:28 pm

ur actually annoying

seonghwa <3; received 4:28 pm

ya ik i am

but yk what i’m not

someone who is going to do nothing about their gf being mad at them

so open ur window bc im climbing up so i can apologize

stop being a meanie and let me say sorry

Despite how mad you still are, your heart can’t help but skip a beat reading his messages. No matter how hard you wanted to stay angry at him and tell him to go away, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him even if you tried. Seonghwa was charming like that, always managing to sweet talk you in every way. 

You crack open your window and see his tuft of black hair climbing up your ladder. As he hops into your bedroom you fold your arms across your chest, not daring to say a word to him until he speaks first.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.” Seonghwa apologizes, and all you do is look at him. He sighs before continuing. “I was just having a bad day and took it out on you and I shouldn’t have blown up on you during class. I get it. Dick move.”

“But then you had to go and talk to Ashley about it?” you added. “That was like the worst part of it! Do you trust her more than me or something?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he panics. 

“You, and everyone else and their mother knows she’s like obsessed with you!” you shout in frustration. “She’s liked you for so long, do you know how stupid you made me look running off to her knowing how she feels about you?!”

“That wasn’t my intention-”

“Were you trying to make me mad?”

“No, y/n.”

“Did you do it to make me jealous?”

“No!”

“So why Seonghwa, did you have to go and vent to her after you yelled at me in front of everyone when all I did was try to help?”

“I don’t know, okay!”

“I just don’t understand why me of all people you had to take it out on. When all i’ve literally done for you for like the last ten freaking years of us being friends was listen to you when you had a bad day or try to cheer you up when you were down! Never once when I was feeling crappy did I take that out on you. Never.” you explain with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” he doesn’t know what else to say because he knows he’s in the wrong. 

“Do you like her or something?” your voice is quiet and the hurt is evident. “Cause if you do just tell me.”

Seonghwa is quick to shut you down as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, no. Y/n, I don’t like her. I don’t. Please believe me.” he begs. “Look, I don’t know why I went to her when I should’ve gone to you. I couldn’t even begin to explain what was going through my head at that point because I don’t know. But I love you, okay? I would never, ever like Ashley.”

Your eyes widen and you pull away from him. “W-what did you just say?”

“I... um...” Seonghwa starts to fumble over his words because he didn’t exactly intend to tell you, but it sort of just came out and now he’s starting to panic.

“Do you mean it?” you ask.

He just nods, a little embarrassed at his sudden declaration.

“I love you too.” you say softly, and he relaxes.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

"I’m really sorry, y/n.” he pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair as he hugs you tightly.

“I’m sorry too.” you murmur against him.

“I hate fighting with you.” he mumbles.

“Me too.”

“I promise I’ll never take my anger out on you again. And I’ll never talk to Ashley again. And I’ll literally do whatever you want me to if it means you won’t stay mad at me because I don’t like it when you’re mad at me, and I hate making you sad.” he rambles and you let out a small chuckle.

“Just come lay down and watch Friends with me.”

“Okay.”

And you ultimately forget that you’re mad at Seonghwa because you decide that you can’t really stay mad at him after he tells you that he loves you. And although all is forgiven, he still decides to grovel for the next week as a reassurance that he really meant his apology.

So at fourteen years old, you have your first, and last fight with him.

At the age of sixteen, you celebrate your three year anniversary with Seonghwa, and decide you were ready to lose your virginity to him.

“Okay I know you said that the expensive dinner date was enough of a present for you, but you know me and always overdoing it....” he says behind you as you hear the crinkling of a bag behind you.

“Seonghwa...”

“Trust me, babe. You’re gonna love it.” he assures as he walks over to you.

Your eyes instantly fall onto the small red velvet box in his hands and your mouth falls open.

“This was expensive wasn’t it?” you pry and he shrugs.

“Maybe, but I was saving up for it for a while now.” he responds, sitting next to you as he hands you the box.

“I always feel bad every time you spend money on me.” you sigh as your fingers smooth over the velvet.

“I know but it was worth it, trust me. Open it.” Seonghwa urges.

You pull apart the bow and lift up the lid, your eyes widening in awe at the shiny ring placed inside. You lift it out gently noticing the small engraving on the inner part of the band, with both your initials and a small ‘i love you 4ever’ written underneath.

“Oh my god,” you utter. “I love it.” you place the ring on your finger.

“Good because I have a matching one too.” your boyfriend grins at you as he pulls out another box lined with a silver band with that very same engraving. 

You pull him in for a hug as he wraps his arms around you instinctively and all you can feel right now is an overload of gratitude for him. 

“I actually love you so much.” you say, pulling his face towards you to press soft kisses all over his face.

“Yeah, I know I’m the best,” Seongwha chuckles. “But I love you too baby.”

Your lips mould together perfectly, the kiss slow and soft at first. His hands wrap around your waist and your mouth moves gently against his. But soon enough you’re clinging to him and his body is pressed against yours, the kiss growing more needy and intense.

You knew when things started to get heavy he would stop the both of you from going further, never wanting to push you to discomfort. The furthest you had gone with one another was only third base, but it never went further than that and Seonghwa always left that decision up to you if you wanted to take it there.

You figure if you don’t speak up now, he was going to cut this short, so it’s only then at this very moment do you decide you wanted him to be your first.

“Do you want to have sex?” you blurt out suddenly and you swear you’ve never seen your boyfriend’s eyes go so wide before. 

He opens his mouth to speak but he can’t seem to find the right words to say. “I- um, wait, are you being for real?” he stutters. “I mean, I do want to, but, are you sure you want to?” he asks, still in disbelief from your question.

“Shit, sorry I know that was really sudden to ask, but I do want to.” you assure. “But only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” his eyes soften, and his hand finds yours in an instant delivering a comforting squeeze.

“Okay so come here and kiss me again please.” you say quietly.

And just like that, Seongwha’s soft lips land on yours once more. Without breaking apart he gently guides you to the head of his bed, laying you down underneath him as your bodies press up against each other.

You swear you can kiss Seongwha for hours and never grow tired of the feeling. You get drunk off his kisses, unable to think of anything else but him. It’s dizzying really, but you love it. You find that off all the things you love about him its his lips, and how impossibly soft they are and how familiar they feel against your own. How much comfort it would bring you, and how all you had to when you had a bad day was just kiss your boyfriend for however long he let you.

It felt like home.

His lips trailed lower to your neck, littering soft pecks across your skin. Quiet noises escape your lips and Seongwha can’t help but grind against your lower half. His hands travel across your body and the ache between your legs grows by the second, and the only thing you can think of is how much you love him, and need him.

Your mind kind of blurs because the next second you find yourself both naked and he’s fiddling in his drawer to find what you assumed to be a condom. He notices your curious stare as he opens his mouth to speak. “M-my dad told me to keep these in here,” Seongwha stutters. “He said to be prepared in case the time comes, and well, here’s the time I guess.” he laughs lightheartedly and the very sound makes your heart swell. 

“Nice call on Papa Park I guess,” you joke and Seongwha chuckles.

He climbs over you and delivers another peck to your swollen lips. “Okay, no more mention of my dad please when I’m about to put my penis in you.”

“Sorry, sorry.” you chuckle nervously as your boyfriend pulls you in for another kiss. 

"Okay, if it hurts tell me to stop and I will, alright?” his eyes stare deeply into your own.

You nod at him with a small smile, admiring what little of his face you could see in the darkness of his room. “I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” he sighs, positioning himself in front of you. “I love you.” he whispers against your lips. 

“I love you more, baby.” you say to him before you feel him push himself inside you. You gasp at the feeling and he stills in his spot to let you adjust. 

And once you signal that it’s okay for him to move, he does at a slow pace, and you gasp at the intense pleasure. Even though the pain has subsided his thrusts are still slow and controlled, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to hurt you, or if he just wants to revel in the feeling of you around him. Either way your heart fills with love for this one boy. 

“I love you so much, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you  know that?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes shut at his words and the newfound feeling you would grow to love. “and thank you for trusting me right now...” his breathing grows heavy. “because I would do anything for you, and I just want you to know that, okay?”

You almost feel like you could cry because above all the pleasure that you’re experiencing right now, his words feel different, more intimate, and all the more meaningful to you. 

And you believe every word he says because you know he truly means it.

“I would do anything for you too.” you repeat his words back to him and he buries his face into your neck as he continues to thrust into you. 

So at sixteen years old, you have your first time with the love of your life. And you tell yourself that no matter what happens between the both of you, you were never going to regret giving that part of yourself to him. 

At the age of eighteen years old, you do the unthinkable.

You decide after a long and heavy conversation, you two were going to break up. You were both set to leave town to pursue your studies at your dream schools, and you felt that parting ways at this point was the better option.

While you two could figure out a way to make things work while half way across the world from each other, you had to take into account all the factors that would drive you two apart. The time difference, the long distance, the fact that you were inevitably going to meet new people, and that you simply did not want to hold each other back from experiencing a life without one another. 

Because all you’ve known almost your entire life was being with Seonghwa, and him with you. You knew it was only fair to give each other the chance to explore something new, and now was that time.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means, and although it was an amicable split, you’ve never felt the pain of a broken heart before. It hurt really bad.

Your friends and family decide to throw you both one last goodbye party, wanting to celebrate this special milestone with you. And of course there was no way you and Seonghwa could pass up the last good night you two would have together as a couple.

The party was fun at first. The dancing, the singing, the laughing, and the endless exchange of pictures as you guys shared the last few memories you would have as high school graduates. 

But as the night started to creep in, you both realized that in less than 24 hours, you two would no longer be attached to one another like you had been for the last thirteen years. And after five years as a couple, you still couldn’t believe that your relationship would come to an end, just like that.

You hear the faint music in the background of your house, as you and Seonghwa sit in your backyard, gazing up at the stars.

“This fucking sucks.” Seonghwa sighs, resting his head on your shoulder as you lean your head on top of his. 

“I know.” your throat burns, suppressing the urge to cry. 

“I just didn’t expect this day to come. I never thought we would actually break up with each other.” he admits, and you nod your head in agreement. 

You grab onto his hand rubbing comforting circles onto his skin, and you feel Seonghwa’s body start to shake next to you. You don’t want to look at him because you know if you see him cry, you’ll cry too.

You close your eyes trying to control your heavy breathing and the quivering of your lips. Your eyes are watering but you refuse to let your tears slip, and your heart hurts like it’s never hurt before, and you don’t know if the pain will ever go away.

“Seonghwa I really love you.” your voice breaks and you finally let the tears fall.

“I know, baby.” the pet name has always affected you, but now more than ever it tugs at your heart strings in a bittersweet way. “I really, really love you too. Always.”

“You know you’re the love of my life right? You’re always going to be.” you state and he delivers a squeeze to your hand in acknowledgement.

“And you’ll always be mine.” he answers back. “You’re my best friend in the whole world and the last five years with you as my girlfriend will forever be the greatest five years of my life. I will always stand by the fact that you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

As you stare at one another with teary eyes, he knows you’re saying the same exact words to him. He doesn’t need to hear you say it, nor does he expect you to. Your eyes say more than enough to him.

You look down at the rose gold band around your finger and you realize how long you’ve kept it on, never once taking it off since that day Seonghwa gave it to you. “Do you want your ring back?” you utter, your eyes watering once more.

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Please keep it. Because I still mean it. And I always will. I’m gonna love you forever, y/n. Even if you decide to take it off, if that’s the last reminder you have of how much I love you, then please keep it.”

Your heart is hurting, and the tears seem never ending as they continue to fall down your cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you Seonghwa.” a sob escapes from your lips, and Seonghwa squeezes your hand again.

“I know, baby but you have to. You’re going to the school you’ve dreamed of going to since you were in the fourth grade. You’re going to accomplish so much and a build a great life for yourself, y/n. And even though I won’t be physically with you, I’m always going to support you every step of the way.” he assures.

You knew in a perfect world you two didn’t have to break up. But long distance was a bitch, and you moving across the world was never going to be easy on him. You couldn’t force each other to wait for the other. Not when the both of you had to start a whole new life separately. You had to let each other go.

You turn to face him, your teary eyes staring into his own. “I’ll always support you too, okay? No matter what. I want you to make the most of your time in Seoul, study hard, surround yourself with good people and have the most fun you’ve ever had. You’re gonna make so many friends and pursue the career you’ve always wanted and experience new things that you’ve never done before. And most of all, you’re going to meet a girl and love her just as much as you loved me. And you’re gonna fall in love all over again, and just be happy. Just promise me that you will make the most of your time over there and live your life to the fullest. Don’t look back, don’t wait for me. Just live until I get to see you again.” your voice breaks. “And if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Seonghwa lets out a sob and nods. “I promise.” his voice breaks and you pull him in for your last goodbye kiss.

At nineteen, you visit your hometown for Christmas, which was the first time you’d be back in a year and a half. 

Having missed out on the chance to visit last year with your busy schedule, you made sure not to pass up the chance to see your family and friends. The more you grew accustomed to your new home you managed to find a good balance between school, work, and your personal life, so you found that this year was finally a good time to return back for a visit.

And there was no better time to come home than for Christmas day.

“Yeah, just landed at our layover and waiting for the next flight.” you say to your mother over Facetime.

“That’s great honey, I’m so excited to see you.” she smiles at you and you return the gesture. 

“I missed you mom.” you say.

“And I missed you even more.” 

You two continue conversing amongst one another, as she filled you in on all things you missed while you were gone before a voice interrupts your conversation.

“Hey babe, here.” Juyeon says, handing you a coffee as he presses a small kiss to your forehead.

“Oh thank you.” you murmur with a small smile as your boyfriend sits down next to you.

“Oh hey miss y/l/n!” Juyeon greets seeing your mom’s face plastered on your screen.

“Juyeon!” she squeals excitedly. “I can’t wait to finally meet you in person instead of over video chat. It was about damn time.” she states and you and your boyfriend chuckle. You hand him your phone allowing them to talk with one another and you smile fondly at the newfound bond between Juyeon and your mother.

“I know, I can’t wait to meet all of you guys too! I know y/n’s been really excited, it was all she could talk about for the last three weeks.” he teases. “And she says you make really good pie so i am definitely looking forward to that.”

“That is such an understatement, I make the best pie.” she scoffs. “And I made one specifically for you.” your mother beams.

After a few minutes of playful banter exchanged, Juyeon hands your phone back to you. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom before we board, I’ll be back.” he excuses himself and you nod in acknowledgement. 

“Oh y/n, I just thought I should mention Seonghwa and his family are coming over for Christmas dinner as well.” your mom says and the sheer mention of his name as your heart beating in your chest.

“Oh he’s back in town too?” you ask casually and she nods.

“Yup, he’s also bringing his girlfriend.” she adds.

“That’s great, I’m really happy for him.” you say with a smile.

And you meant it, truly. 

You knew of his girlfriend from the few photos he posted of her on instagram, and he seemed genuinely happy. Aside from his newfound love, he was clearly enjoying his time in Seoul like you had hoped, and it was everything you wished for him. 

You two hadn’t really spoken over the last year, and it wasn’t really on purpose, you two just kind of drifted, as expected. You two were starting fresh in an unfamiliar place, and you both were finding your way around your new homes. You two were also preoccupied with school, and meeting new people so it was sort of inevitably really that you two grew apart. Of course there were the few times you two would chat, but it never lasted long due to time differences and busy schedules. 

Although you missed him immensely, you were beyond happy for the life he started for himself, and you knew he was happy for you too. He did exactly what he promised you the last night you spent together, and that was enough to make you happy.

“Flight 219 now boarding.” the announcer calls and Juyeon meets you right on time.

“Okay mom, that’s us. I’ll see you in a few hours, bye, love you.” you bid your farewell before hanging up, and Juyeon grabs your hand leading you to the gate.

“Ready to go home?” he smiles at you, and you beam excitedly, nodding your head.

As the days pass leading up to Christmas, you spend all of your of time with your family and friends, using every second to catch up with your loved ones. You find that Juyeon is adapting well to your home life, bonding with your father and making your mother love him even more than she already did. You introduce him to your childhood friends and he instantly wins over Mingi, Hongjoong, Yunho and Jennie. You admire how much of an effort he put into forming a friendship with them because he knew how much it meant to you.

You were thankful really, to find a guy who was almost perfect for you.

But still, in the back of your mind, even though you loved Juyeon beyond belief, you knew Seonghwa would always have that special place in your heart.

On the day of Christmas, you and Juyeon set the table as you await the Park’s arrival. You were slightly nervous, obviously, given the fact that you had not seen Seonghwa in over a year and you would be meeting his girlfriend. Although you were happy for him, you still felt anxious to see him and her, and you could only hope that she was good for him, because he deserved that much. 

Only a few moments later do you hear a knock at your door and your mother walks over to greet your longtime neighbours. Juyeon stands next to you as he wraps an arm around your waist comfortingly and you relax against him. 

You see Mrs. Park first as she walks inside, giving your mother a friendly hug. Mr. Park follows suit as he greets your mother and your father with a wide smile on his face.

And then you see him.

His hair is slightly darker and he does look a little older. But other than that his face is so familiar to you and your heart beats wildly in your chest as the two of you make eye contact. His face softens when he sees you and you deliver a small wave to him as he smiles. His girlfriend trails behind him and you take notice of how beautiful she was. You smile at her too and she returns the gesture and your heart kind of warms seeing how shy she is because you always kind of knew Seonghwa would pick someone similar to him.

“Oh my y/n, how long has it been!” Mrs. Park calls towards you and you hug her tightly. 

“I missed you!” you say to her and her arms wrap tighter around you.

“I missed you too, darling. And you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you!” she compliments. “And who is this handsome man?”

“This is Juyeon, he’s my boyfriend.” you smile, and Juyeon shakes her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. Y/n’s talked a lot about your family.” he says politely.

“Y/n’s picked a good one, I see.” she winks playfully as you notice Seonghwa and his girlfriend make their way towards you two.

“Hey y/n, long time no see.” Seonghwa says and you almost melt at the sound of his voice. He pulls you in for a hug and you notice how he still wears the same cologne that you had bought him all those years ago.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you again.” you smile at him, and although it had been well over a year since you two last saw each other, there was no hint of awkwardness, just nostalgia.

“Oh, this is Juyeon.” you introduce and Seonghwa delivers a warm smile to your boyfriend, shaking his hand respectfully.

“Nice to meet you.” Juyeon smiles.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Seonghwa. Y/n’s... childhood friend.” he decides to say.

“I know she’s mentioned you a lot in her stories.” your boyfriend acknowledges. “From all the things she told me you were one of the people I was looking forward to meet the most. You seemed really great to her.”

“I could only hope so. She was my best friend after all.” Seonghwa glances at you, and you know there’s a deeper meaning behind his words. “And you seem like a really great guy, so I’m glad she has good people in her life.” Seonghwa returns and you find it heartwarming how well their exchange is going.

You look at the girl beside your ex and she’s staring at you with gentle, curious eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n.” you smile at her, extending your hand out for her to shake.

“Rosé,” she beams at you and you don’t even really know her but there was something about her that assured you she was good fit for Seonghwa. “I heard a lot about you as well, Hwa’s always talking about his life back home so I’m really glad I got to meet his best friend. You were really special to him.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad I got to meet you too.” you say.

“Okay, time for dinner everyone!” your father announces and you all take a seat at the table, passing over plates of food and catching up with one another.

“So Seonghwa, how’s Seoul treating you?” your mother asks as everyone turns their attention towards him.

“Uh really good actually,” he responds. “I joined a band actually! Uh, I became friends with these really nice guys. San and Yeosang. They basically recruited me after they found out I could sing and now we play at this local bar every week on Friday’s and Saturday’s. It was really good for me, I think. It helped with my stress and stuff. And that’s actually where I met Rosé.”

“That’s amazing.” your mother comments with a warm smile.

“Yeah he was really shy at first but San kind of forced him to talk to me which I was really thankful for because I was eyeing him for a while and was too shy myself to approach him.” Rosé says. “I still remember the night he asked for my number and he was stumbling over his words and I swear he looked like he was going to pass out.” she chuckles, and everyone at the table laughs along with her.

“Oh my god I know what you mean, he also cracks his fingers a lot and starts to turn really purple when he’s nervous.” you add and Rosé points at you nodding in agreement.

“Yes! I notice that all the time!” she laughs, and you can’t help but laugh with her.

“Trust me, I have the most embarrassing stories of him when we were kids.” you say.

“Oh god, you have to tell me all of them.” Rosé giggles.

“Obviously, we have the whole night for that.” you wink at her, and you realize how easy and natural it was to talk to her, and that confirmed that you indeed really liked her. 

Seonghwa watches the exchange between you both, and as you two make eye contact with each other, a small smile appears on his face as you nod at him, silently approving of the girl he chose to bring home for this special day. His heart grows full seeing how well the two of you got along, and he’s forever grateful at how amazing of a person you were that you were so willingly to form a friendship with his new girlfriend.

Although he loved Rosé dearly, there was still a piece of his heart where he’d always love you. And that piece grows a little more when he realizes how you continue to support him, even through this unconventional situation. 

Seonghwa decides he’s going to do the same for you, because just like you were happy for him, he was happy for you too. 

Of course he was glad you found someone who could put a smile on your face like he once did, and he knows that for you to have willingly dated Juyeon, he had to have been just as great as you were. You always had the best judgement of people.

“So Juyeon, how’d you and y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks genuinely and he notices the way his face lights up at the mention of your name.

“We had a lot of mutual friends and they introduced us. It’s funny actually, I could tell y/n didn’t even really like me that much at first, she was always so disinterested when I would try and talk to her.” Juyeon laughs.

“Probably stressing too much about trivial things.” Seonghwa chuckles.

“Yeah she does that a lot, so overly anxious all the time” Juyeon notes, and Seonghwa agrees. 

“Hey,” you interrupt and Juyeon apologizes.

“Sorry babe,” he chuckles. "but yeah, I finally sweet talked my way to get her to go out on a coffee date with me and then the next day she asked to go out for lunch after our lecture. We kind of just ended up hanging out more often and well, the rest is history I guess.”

“That’s great, I’m really glad she found someone that makes her happy.” Seonghwa smiles, and you feel a sense of gratitude towards him.

The rest of the night your families converse with one another and share a few drinks, as you and Seonghwa share old stories with Juyeon and Rosé. If you told yourself three years ago that you would be sitting by the fireplace on Christmas day with you and Seonghwa as exes exchanging stories with your new lovers, you would’ve never believed it. 

But you don’t think it’s a bad thing at all. In fact you’re immensely grateful that despite not being as close to Seonghwa anymore, you were able to see each other grow and adapt with your new lives. A life where you made new friends and made new memories. Where you tried things you’ve never tried before, and explored new places. And where you could love other people and still be so insanely happy for one another. 

This was a good thing.

At one point during the night the two of you find yourselves alone, a comfortable silence filling the room as you stared at the fire in front of you, basking in its warmth.

“I missed you.” Seonghwa is the first to break the silence.

“I missed you too.” you return. “And I’m really happy for you, you know?” 

“I’m really happy for you too, y/n.” Seonghwa smiles at you. “And I really like Juyeon. He seems really great, and he makes you happy, I can see it. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “And I think Rosé is amazing. She’s perfect for you. And I’m forever grateful that you two have each other. I know we’ve drifted over the last year, but you’re still my best friend in the whole world. And even though I don’t say it often, or even out loud, I’m supporting you through everything. As long as it makes you happy that’s all I care about.”

His heart warms at your statement and he locks eyes with you. “And you know I’m always supporting you too. Seeing you happy and thriving is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s all I want for you.” he states.

Neither of you have to say it, but you know this is your unspoken way of saying that you both still loved each other greatly. You still stood by the fact that Seonghwa was, and always would be the most important person in your life, and you in his. Seeing one another content and happy despite not having each other around anymore, was the one thing that mattered to you both. The maturity and support you continued to show was only because of the immense love you have, and have always had for one another. 

The kind of love that lets you give up the person you love the most so they can have a better life without you. 

And the kind of love that’s okay with it.

At twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa meet again.

It’s during one of your breaks where you find yourself extremely homesick. You don’t even give your family a heads up until you’re outside your childhood home knocking at your door.

It was an impulsive decision but it’s not like you were currently in school. You had the time and the money, and you missed your hometown so incredibly bad that it only took you one second to make that decision to come back.

“Coming, one second!” you hear a male voice call behind the door and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Well, that’s is definitely not my mom, or dad.” you say to yourself. “Did they move out without telling me or something-” your internal conversation is cut short as the door swings open and you’re greeted by an unexpected figure.

“Y/n?” the boy says in surprise.

“Seonghwa??” you say even more confused. 

“Who’s at the door Seonghwa?” now that’s your mother’s voice you hear and she gasps as she walks over to the door. “Y/n! Oh my god why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?!” she pulls you into her arms.

“Surprise.” you chuckle. “I kind of sort of felt really homesick and impulsively bought a plane ticket last night so I could fly back so... here I am.”

“Well come settle in! Seonghwa was just helping with some renovations in the house but I’ll let you two catch up.” your mother grabs your luggage, carrying it up to your bedroom. “Go grab a coffee or something!” she yells upstairs.

You look over to Seonghwa and he shrugs. “Let’s go then.” he smiles and your heart swells.

The two of you walk comfortably beside one another as you take in the scenery around you, missing the familiar place you once called home. 

“I didn’t know you were back in town too.” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, it was pretty impulsive too actually.” he admits as he looks at you. 

“What was your reason?” you ask curiously.

“Break up.” he states and your mouth falls open.

“Wait, you and Rosé...” 

He nods. “Yeah, things just kinda, fizzled out. You know, we grew apart, wanted different things, came to a point where we were in different stages in our life.”

“Oh wow.” is all you say. “I’m sorry to hear, she was really sweet. I really liked her.”

“Yeah, she was,” Seonghwa sighs. “I mean, we ended on good terms. We’re still friends, actually. I don’t even think I’m necessarily sad about it to be honest, it’s just different, you know? Like I know we weren’t even dating for that long, like two and a half years at most. But I just got so used to being around her and spending so much time with her, and then things just weren’t really the same after a while. It just felt odd not having someone. And being alone made me miss everything I had here so I came back.”

You nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I totally get what you mean.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrow at you. “You mean... you and Juyeon too?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I think for us we just realized we were better off as friends than as a couple, you know? Like after a while the attraction kind of went away and we were only really together because it was comfortable. And we didn’t want to stay together if we weren’t in love anymore, it wouldn’t have made sense. The break up was easy and it felt right when we ended things, I kind of wish it happened sooner but, I was still thankful for the time we spent together. He is still one of my best friends so I’m grateful for that at least.”

“That’s good.” he smiles softly. 

“Hey at least we both can confidently say we have a track record of smooth break ups, right?” you joke lightheartedly.

“Thank god for that.” Seonghwa says with a laugh.

When you two enter the coffee shop you’re once again hit with a feeling of nostalgia as you think of all the times you, Seonghwa, and your friends would spend most days after school, drinking hot chocolate and eating pastries together as you all talked for hours and hours.

“I’ll get our usuals, you can wait by our spot.” Seonghwa offers, and you nod making your way towards your designated table. 

The moment you sit down you’re hit with a wave of flashbacks you shared in this very space, and a small smile creeps onto your face as you look back on all the old memories. 

After your brief moment of reminiscing, Seongwha sits across from you handing over your cup. 

“Sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss home until you’re actually back in all the places you grew up in,” you note as you take notice of the small engraving in the corner of the table marked with yours and all your friends’ initials. Your fingers ghost over the mark and when you look up at Seongwha you see that he’s also eyeing the engraving. 

“I remember when we put that there,” he recalls with a smile. “After five years of coming here and sitting at this same exact table with our friends we claimed our ownership by putting that stupid engraving that took us forever to do. As if that stopped people from sitting here anyways.” you both chuckled.

“Well at least Jennie and Hongjoong were brave enough to kick out the people who stole our spot.” you laugh.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa smiles fondly at the memory. “I still remember the days where Mingi and Yunho would bet the barista on how many butter croissants they could eat in one sitting so we could all get a supply of free hot chocolate for a year.”

“And it was only after Mingi threw up everywhere that it turned out all we had to do was ask her, and she would’ve done it anyways because we were regulars here.” you finish with a soft chuckle.

A comfortable silence fills the air as you two reminisce on the old memories of your teenage years.

“Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa says.

“Of course.”

“When you finish university,” he starts. “What are you gonna do afterwards? Like do you plan on living abroad permanently? Or are you gonna come back home?”

You pause for a second. “Honestly, after the first year there, I fell in love with the city. And I truly was planning on starting my life there and making that my permanent home, ‘cause I had Juyeon, and I had my new friends, I had jobs lined up for me after graduation, and just an overall great home.” you say. “But after splitting up with him, and sitting with the fact that I was constantly homesick, I kinda realized that this is my home, you know? Like, no matter how much I loved my new friends, and loved the city, it would never be as special to me as here. Nothing over there compared to everything I have here. And I knew you were gonna come back from Seoul after graduation, and Jennie and Yunho were gonna come back from New Zealand too. And Mingi and Hongjoong, and the rest of them were all still here... I didn’t want to be the only one gone. All my real friends are here, my family’s here... you’re here. I didn’t want to leave that all behind.” you exclaim and Seonghwa’s face softens.

“I’m really glad honestly.” he responds. “Because I missed you a lot. And it would’ve really sucked to know you weren’t gonna be here anymore when I moved back. I just really miss spending time with my best friend.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Well, you have the next two weeks to do that.” you smile up at him.

“I have an idea.” his eyes light up and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight? We can have a move night and order take out like the good old times.” he grins at you.

“You had me at sleepover.” you say with a smile and so he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the exit.

When Seonghwa lets you into his house you almost forget the fact that you haven’t been inside in almost three whole years. This was practically your second home and you found comfort in the fact that nothing really changed since you last saw it. Everything looked almost exactly how you remembered it, minus the new couch and dining table, and a few new paintings hung up on the walls.

“Your mom didn’t change much over the last few years.” you observe.

“Yeah, she was going to do a whole renovation like your mom, and she even planned a whole design out, but she opted out last minute. She said she wanted me to come back home to something I remembered.” Seonghwa answers. “I didn’t get why at first but it only started making sense to me the more I started visiting and realized this was like my safety net.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” you say.

You and Seonghwa walk upstairs to his bedroom, and of course nothing changed inside either. It almost seemed like it had been untouched aside from the fresh bedsheets and clean floor. You notice the small picture frames neatly placed across his dresser table and you realize most of them are pictures with you. You pick one frame up as you remember the day so clearly. A faint smile forms on your face as your fingers ghost over the photo.

“I asked my mom to put those up again recently.” Seonghwa states from behind you. “I was gonna put more with our friends but I realized we didn’t take many with them. They were mostly just of us two. I hope you don’t think it’s weird.”

You shake your head. “No, of course not. I would never think it’s weird.” you say, placing the frame back onto his dresser.

Seonghwa tosses you one of his shirts and a pair of your old shorts that you always left at his house during your impromptu sleepovers. And suddenly you’re once again hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asks and you flop onto his bed with a deep exhale.

“Let’s just lay here for a second.” you say pulling him down next to you. “I just wanna remember everything that I missed while I was gone.” 

Seonghwa settles beside you and you can’t help your racing heart as he inches closer to you. As you lay next to one another looking up at the ceiling, your breathing relaxes and you revel in the feeling of just being so comfortable and at so at home. 

“You don’t know how much I missed this,” Seonghwa whispers next to you. “even though we haven’t seen each other in years and we don’t talk as much anymore, when I’m with you it’s like we never even left each other. Like we just pick up right where we left off. You’re the one person who’s always brought me comfort and I never feel like we have to force things with each other, no matter how much we drifted.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and suddenly the room feels so much warmer. Your heart beats fast and you realize how much of an effect Seonghwa still has on you after all these years.

“I think about you everyday, you know that?” you confess, turning your head to look at him. “Every time I’m out somewhere there will always be little things that remind me of you. And I think about all the places in the city I would take you, and the places I know you would love. I think about all the things you would tell me when I was feeling down, and how you would react to certain situations as if you were right there beside me the whole time. I miss you all the time.”

You both stare at one another and your eyes flicker back and forth to his lips and when you look into his own eyes you notice him doing the same. After a moment of just staring into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do next, Seonghwa pulls you towards his face and kisses you, and the feeling absolutely overwhelms you in all the good ways.

It’s far from soft and sweet, instead heavy and messy, and so intense that your chest burns with desire. You don’t dare pull away from him even when you needed to catch your breath, because the feeling of his lips on yours after all these years intoxicates you and has you yearning for more. He’s pulling you closer to him and you feel like your body is on fire. 

Seonghwa rolls on top of you and your bodies mould perfectly with one another, as if you were both the two missing pieces of a puzzle. You can’t exactly describe the feeling but it’s overwhelming and very reminiscent and brings you back to all the times with Seonghwa that brought you so much happiness years ago. It’s a feeling you didn’t know if you would ever feel again and you missed it more than anything.

The ache between your legs becomes overwhelming and before you know it you’re begging him to touch you, and without any hesitation he does. Your bodies press tightly against each other and your desperate need for him only grows the moment he grinds down on you. 

The next thing you know, you’re both unclothed and fully exposed to one another, and you see each other in your most vulnerable states for the first time in years. When he finally pushes himself inside you the pleasure is significantly magnified as the fire inside you only intensifies at the feeling of him.

It happens quick at first but Seonghwa decides he wants to take his time with you. Like you, he didn’t know if he would ever feel you in this way again and he was going to use every second with you that he could.

You don’t know how much time has passed but by the end, you both are exhausted and sore, and panting heavily next to each other. It’s dark outside and the room is warm and even though you’re both sweaty and gross, you haven’t felt this good in a long, long time. 

“Was that okay?” Seonghwa asks, pulling your naked body into his arms.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “It was perfect.”

So you lay in each other’s embrace for a while and your heart feels warm and fuzzy, bringing you an endless amount of comfort. You feel content at this very moment, and your worries are pushed to the back of your mind as you fall asleep soundly together.

It’s only at 2 o’clock in the morning do you wake up in a haze and through your fatigued confusion does your brain recall the events that took place a few hours ago. Unable to make out your surroundings in the darkness, your eyes widen not knowing if what happened earlier really happened. When you attempt to sit up you feel a pair of arms wrapped securely around your waist and your body relaxes. Soft snores escape Seonghwa’s lips and you snuggle closer to his body to feel his warmth.

It dawns on you that you still are very much in love with Seonghwa, and of course deep down you knew that you always would be. You also knew given the chance (like now) your feelings would resurface because well... they never really left in the first place.

The unknowingness of this outcome has you shifting in your spot and anxiety creeps in as you think of leaving him all over again. Because after tonight, you don’t know if you can bear the thought of parting ways with him and returning to your life abroad where you can’t tell him exactly how you feel.

You don’t realize right away that Seonghwa has woken up next to you and he only does so because of your constant shifting. It’s when he delivers a gentle squeeze to your waist do you finally take notice.

“Are you okay?” his voice his deep and tired and the sound is enough to make your heart beat fast.

“Yeah.” you reply unconvincingly, but Seonghwa has known you all his life and was also the one to date you for five whole years. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself so in an instant he could tell there was something bothering you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

Your back is leaning against his chest, and you can feel his soft breathing on your neck, and instinctively he starts to rub small circles on your arm knowing that was the one thing that could calm you down.

“It’s stupid.” you say, your voice is quiet and laced with a hint of embarrassment.

“Do you regret what we did?” Seonghwa asks and you’re quick to shut down his claim.

“No! No, of course not.” you return. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” 

You exhale, letting out a heavy sigh. “Seonghwa I still love you.” it’s almost inaudible to him but he knows he heard you correctly. 

He lets out a soft sigh and a smile smiles forms on his face.

“I still love you too, baby.” and when you hear him call you by the name you loved so much, you feel like you’re going to melt in his arms. “I always would remember?”

Your eyes start to water because it’s been so long since you’ve been able to say that to him, and to hear him say those same exact words back to you has a weight lifting right off your shoulders that you didn’t even know was there.

“Why’s that upsetting you?” he questions and you feel him press soft kisses to your shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you all over again.” you admit. 

He sighs next you and attempts to pull you even closer, if that were possible.

“Well we’ll spend the rest of the time we have together and enjoy every second of it. And after graduation we’ll come back home and we’ll pick up right where we left off like we always do.” Seonghwa tries to reassure you and you shake your head, sniffling.

“That’s not what I mean...” you say. “I mean that I don’t want to go back and not be with you. I don’t want to wait out till graduation and know that we aren’t together because I don’t think I can. Not after tonight.”

It clicks in Seonghwa’s brain and he knows exactly what you mean, and so he decides now’s the time to ask you what he’s been wishing to ask you for so many years. He knows he wasn’t supposed to wait for you, but he always knew he would.

“You don’t have to then.” he states.

“I don’t?”

“Do you want to get back together?” he asks and your heart almost stops. “I mean we only broke up ‘cause of the distance right? And we both fulfilled our promises to each other that we would experience a different life and learn what it was like to not be together. We’re in our last year of uni, we’d only have to be apart for a few more months and then we’ll both be back home in no time, permanently. We would never have to be apart again.” he reasons with you.

And it did make complete sense. He was right in every way, so in truth, there really wasn’t anything stopping you from being together again. You don’t have to think much about it because the decision was already made deep down. You knew you wouldn’t hesitate to be with Seonghwa again if you had the chance, and now was that chance.

You turn to face him and even though you two can’t see each other, there’s a small smile painted on both your faces and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, let’s get back together.”

So at twenty-one years old, you and Seonghwa officially reconcile, and spend the next two weeks together like you planned, catching up on everything you did while you two were apart.

And just like he said, it was like you two never left each other.

And now, at twenty-two years old, Seonghwa pops the question.

And you finally marry him.

"Family, friends, and all loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Y/n and Seonghwa. We stand here to support this couple and share the joys of their love and commitment as they solidify this partnership, choosing to spend the rest of their lives together.” 

“Through this marriage you make a lifelong promise to one another to always love, respect, trust and honor each other through anything, and everything. You promise to stay committed, and loyal, and most importantly, share your dreams, your happiness, and your sorrows with each other.” 

“From today, and this moment on, you will forever be united as one.”

You stare at Seonghwa and your heart beats hard against your chest as you stand in front of him watching his eyes light up and his smile grow by the second. You feel like you’re in a dream and everything around you feels so surreal.

Your eyes scan the alter and you see your mother beside Mrs. Park, both of them clinging onto each other as tears of happiness running down their cheeks. Their smile is wide and filled with so much love and you knew this day was something the two have been waiting for, for as long as they could remember. 

You see Mingi, and Yunho, and Hongjoong, and Jennie, your best friends who witnessed every progression of your relationship with Seonghwa from the moment you two met. They’re all grinning from ear to ear and you can’t help but laugh as they silently cheer you on from the pews.

You see your dad, and Seonghwa’s dad, and both of your grandparents, and the entirety of yours and Seonghwa’s family joined together as they smile brightly at the two of you.

And then your eyes meet with Rosé and Juyeon as they mouth a “you got this!” to you and Seonghwa, delivering a thumbs up in your direction, and your heart kind of warms because even after splitting up, the friendship between you four remained and it was evident through their support on this special day.

When your eyes lock with your soon-to-be-husband his lips quirk up into a warm smile as you mouth out an “i love you.”

“Now Y/n, Seonghwa, please join hands” the officiant states.

"Do you, Park Seonghwa take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?” 

“I do.” he states softly, eyes gazing into yours.

"And Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Park Seonghwa to be your husband?”

“I do.” you respond beaming.

"Seonghwa, please repeat after me.” the officiant says. “I, Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” 

“I Park Seonghwa, take thee, Y/n Y/l/n, to be my lawfully wife...” he repeats.

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

 “For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.” Seonghwa finishes and your eyes start to water.

“Now, Y/n, please repeat after me.” the officiant calls on you. “I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

You exhale before repeating his words. ““I, Y/N Y/LN, take thee, Park Seonghwa, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

"...To have and to hold from this day forward...”

“...For better for worse...”

“For richer for poorer...”

“...In sickness and in health...”

“...To love and to cherish...”

“...And to honour you all the days of my life...”

“Till death do us apart.”

As Jennie walks over to hand over the rings she smiles brightly at you, as the crowd watches you and Seonghwa each place the new band on your fingers, signifying the start of your lifelong commitment to one another. 

“Well! By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant shouts with a smile. “You may now kiss the bride!”

And without a second wasted Seonghwa pulls you in kissing you like he’s never kissed you before and the loud shouts and cheers in the background fills your ears as everyone hollers around you. And when you pull away you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as Seonghwa carries you out of the alter.

“Here’s to our new life together, Mrs. Park.” Seonghwa says with a grin as you kiss him once more.

“I love you so much.” you say.

“And I love you even more.” he returns.

So at twenty-two years old you know that you’re never going to stop loving Seonghwa, and that love was made permanent by the unity of your marriage. From the moment you declared him as your boyfriend at the age of six, to the years you spent learning everything together as a couple, growing apart and reuniting, you know that this was a rare kind of love to find, and one that had to mature and progress over a long period of time. 

And so you remember the words you said to him all those years ago the night you parted ways, “if somehow we find our way back to one another, then just know everything we did up to that point was worth it.”

Which stayed true four and a half years later, and for the rest of your life thereafter.

LA FIN.

[the-fourth-knower]

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

-

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

-

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

[steepgan]

someone dear (iii) - d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

FINAL PART!!!! also i hate this part the most because i definitely rushed it and i could feel myself losing steam for writing so i wanted to finish it asap LMFAO ALSO DILUC IS HELLA OOC IM SO SORRY I STARTED PLAYING GENSHIN LIKE SIX DAYS AGO IM RELLY REALLY SORRY LAFAHFOA#@*$@)*$

Today was payday.

“You look…” Charles made a face. “Vibrant.”

“I get paid!” you squealed.

“Oh, boy,” Charles said. “You know there’s more to life than money, [Name]. There’s knowledge. You could always learn more. There’s love. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a significant other, honestly. There’s—”

You waved a dismissive hand. “I know all that already! I’m satisfied, Charles. It’s just not so bad to be financially secure while I’m at it. Money is the best thing ever!”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“The root of all evil is buried deep within that chest of yours,” you accused. You picked up a clean rag and soaked it in a water basin. “You never let me have any fun on payday. Anyway, today there’s a new book being released, and I’ve been waiting for the sequel since forever.”

Charles nodded. “I think I know which book you’re talking about. Give it time and your librarian friend will have it in the library in no time.”

“That very librarian friend is coming today to hand-deliver the book to me.”

“Of course. Never once would you abandon your shift for books. Though, I think I’ve once seen you leave midway through the day because you saw a cat on the balcony while standing outside.”

“It was a cute cat,” you defended. 

“You shouldn’t make friends with cats. They’re very picky and particular with whom they associate with.”

“Ah,” you said absentmindedly, “like Master Diluc.”

“[Name], that’s your boss.”

You deserved the reprimand. “Sorry. It’s not anything bad. I actually took your advice the other day and chatted with him a bit. He’s not as… cold as I thought, but he’s certainly as chilly as Snezhnaya at times.”

Diluc had been somewhat stubborn when you insisted on helping him. You didn’t understand. It was only natural to be there for other people; however, Diluc believed differently. He was right in some ways. Too much dependency would lead one to no good, but that was not your concern.

“Before comparing your employer to one of the coldest nations in Teyvat,” Charles said, “I nominate you to call for Patton a bit today. He’s coming in late ‘cause he’s wrapped up with something today.”

“Do you think me standing out there would do the tavern some good?”

“Try wearing a costume. Draws attention.”

“Right on. Let me see if there’s any maid uniforms in the back.”

As much as you worshipped your own looks on a daily basis, standing outside where Patton typically was took a toll on your body. But your mental health persevered. After all, you were getting paid today. Nothing could deter your smile.

You stood outside, calling out passing people with hopes of luring them in with Dandelion Wine. Diona, who worked at Cat’s Tail, stopped by to convince you to join her tavern. She was ultimately dedicated to sabotaging the traditional and rich wine industry of Mondstadt yet was doing rather poorly at it. You declined politely, as your job was the wine industry of Mondstadt.

Nimrod, one of the usuals, entered the tavern. He dodged his wife who condemned his drinking habits. He typically hung around Angel’s Share for the addicting wine. It was not strange to see him coming in and out of alleyways.

Not even the approaching Master Diluc could taint your spirits.

The approaching Master Diluc.

You’d recognize his hair and determined face anywhere. You were accustomed to seeing it, as you saw him often. You smiled and greeted him accordingly just before he entered the tavern. “Hello, Master Diluc. Have a good day today.”

“I will,” he said. “I assume today’s a good day for you, too.”

“Of course.”

Donna was giving him puppy-dog eyes around the corner, you saw, but she gave him puppy-dog eyes every day, so what was new? Diluc, the brooding bachelor bastard of Mondstadt, was the center of many ladies’ attention.

He was the center of yours because your paycheck was in his hands. 

Days and weeks went by.

Because you knew Diluc’s secret and nighttime hobby, it wasn’t strange for you and he to grow closer. When he’d come back to the tavern, you arranged a nice meal for him to eat. Heroes needed plenty of food, you figured. 

Sometimes, you’d eat with him in agonizing silence.

He made for mediocre company, but when it was late at night and you had nothing to do, he was a fine person to talk to. He kept his distance, preferring to sit a seat away from you at the bar, idly standing when you were sitting at a table. But you never felt alone on those nights. 

Diluc came back injured sometimes, and as each night passed, he let you tend to his wounds pathetically before he went to see a doctor. You didn’t know if he was humoring your concern or if he seriously needed your help.

Even without you, he was doing just fine, but little by little, akin to a trickling stream, he began to rely on you. Another person’s trust was a heavy thing to carry, and Diluc’s trust was the weight of the entire world upon your shoulders. You feared that if you ever messed up, Diluc’s trust would be gone in a snap. 

Diluc and you shared meals, which was nothing out of the ordinary now, but there was small conversation. Diluc, to your knowledge, never really participated in idle chatter, but he talked with you about the sights he’d seen around Liyue, the hub of business in Teyvat, and you retold jokes your friends had said and rumors about a certain person that were made just to pass time. 

You could pull vicarious wonder when Diluc told you of the other nations. You’d venture there yourself, but your skills in the adventuring department were lacking.

You admitted that you were wrong about Diluc; where you had thought him cold and stoic, he was protective and brave. He treasured his work above nearly everything—to the point he overworked. In a way he was somewhat like you. A little different, though. A little stranger. A little better.

Diluc had grand aspirations and was bold personified. You, too, had something to live for, but it wasn’t as great as his. You liked the little things; you liked the dog who wagged his tail whenever you passed in hopes of you giving it a treat; you liked shopping with your friends; you liked reading new books and joking around with Lisa.

You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all, Charles had said then.

“Charles, you’re insane,” you said, pushing Charles’ shoulder. “It’s never going to work. Patton would never agree to putting on the maid dress.”

“And if we bribe him?” Charles asked.

Diluc was standing on the other side of the bar, a brow quirked and a smile lapping at his lips. His arms were crossed, and as much as he tried to seem intimidating, he looked like a friend to you. Before, you would have seen him as judgmental and indifferent, but the Diluc before you was someone who you knew better.

“How much do you think we should give Patton? Maybe we need to sort into bigger pockets.” You peered at Diluc.

Charles said, “What—do you think Master Diluc is willing to put on such a uniform?”

You laughed, and Diluc was looking at you. He didn’t look upset at all. His face was calm, and his pretty cupid’s bow lips were drawn in an amused smile. Oh, he was gorgeous—and upon that thought intruding your headspace, you nearly stopped laughing.

Sometimes Diluc would bring you small trinkets from the winery. You once brought up you wanted an owl statue to put on your balcony to attract other owls (though you were sure that wasn’t how nature worked), and Diluc, sure enough, gave you an owl statue around the size of your torso. 

“Master Diluc,” you said. “What is this?”

“An owl statue.”

“Gee, wow! I thought it was a penguin.” You tentatively patted the top of its head. “What’s it for?”

“You,” he said. “I had it laying around the winery.”

It provoked thought in you. What sort of person had an owl statue laying around? You felt the need to give Diluc something back, but what did you have to give him? So that very night, you took him outside of Mondstadt so you could capture a Mist Flower Corolla for your friend. 

Typically, you wouldn’t take your employer out on an errand, but you were done with work, so it wasn’t Master Diluc. It was just Diluc. Diluc looked like he wanted to say no to you because he didn’t really devote his time into something so trivial, but you insisted.

“If you needed it that badly,” Diluc said, “you could have asked me. We have plenty near the winery, and I can take care of them easily.”

“It’s not that,” you said, watching an Ice Flower bloom and freeze the water around it. “It’s about the adventure. The message.”

“And what’s this message you speak of?”

“It’s the message of ‘hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.’”

“How… kind of you, [Name].”

You and Diluc spent all night catching enough Mist Flower Corollas for your liking. You wanted a bouquet, and you had a bouquet at the end of the night, at the expense of Diluc’s time and your sleep. You carried the bundle in your hands happily.

Diluc’s fire skills came handy, and it wouldn’t be a lie if you said you brought him along just for it. You liked his personality and his friendship, of course, but his fire skills were a… plus!

On the nights where it was just you and he, Diluc sat nearer to you now. Diluc picked up Charles’ shifts more often and sat across from you whenever you were seated at tables. He sat next to you at the bar, entertaining you out of your boredom. 

It wasn’t until one day, Donna of the flower shop was gushing about Diluc, and you felt uneasy. You’d known that Donna was incredibly fond of Diluc, but it never bothered you until now. 

Of course, you brought it up to Charles, one of your closest confidants, only third to your bank account and Lisa.

“He likes you back, you know,” Charles said, playing with the tip jar. The coins clinked and clanked in there. “I can tell you that much, [Name].”

“Ewwwwww,” you moaned. “Talking to you about my problems is gross. Where’s Lisa? She’ll tell me the truth for sure. You only want me happy so I can clean the entire tavern for free again. You want me to cover your shift again?”

“Sure I do,” Charles said, “but what I’m saying is true, [Name]. He looks at you all funky.”

“Yeah, because I’m a funky gal.”

“Stop it.”

“Funky, funky, funky.”

“Please.” Charles sighed and set down the tip jar. “It’s like… you and he are weirdly connected. He looks at you a lot. He always looks at you whenever there’s a joke, just to see if you’re laughing, I guess. He must like your laugh. I think it sounds like a horse, personally.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You loved talking to Charles. You loved money. You loved your friends, and you loved your happiness. You loved—no, you liked Diluc. You didn’t know what to do when it came to him. Maybe if you kept away, your affections would find someone else to torment.

Like, for example, that newly hired boy next door that nearly killed his shop’s plants. He was a clumsy sort of cute. 

But Diluc was not clumsy. He was meticulous and always got the job done. He took care of himself well, and on days he overworked, you made sure he took some time to rest. 

You shook your head. You should stop thinking about Diluc for now and focus.

Yet it was always you and Diluc, and Diluc began to invade your thoughts. You brought up weaving flowers into his long hair, and Diluc always turned you down, saying that there wasn’t enough time for that. 

You wished to brush Diluc’s bangs back and lightly kiss his forehead, if he was okay with that. Instead, you said to Diluc, you have a big forehead. No wonder you’re so smart.

Can we go back to the part where you said I had a big forehead? he’d retorted.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later did Diluc come to his shift with Mist Flower Corollas in hand and shyly handed them to you. There was a red hue on his cheeks, and his voice was small, afraid of rejection. His hair was tied back in a neater fashion, and his eyes were cast downward.

Become someone dear to me, he had said.

He wore fine clothes and a nervous expression. It was so out of character for Diluc. You felt as if you were watching a high school boy struggle to express his feelings. However, had Diluc walked into the tavern with a more open chest and chin up, he wouldn’t have been Diluc at all. 

You liked Diluc as he was—somewhat closed off but kind enough. Mondstadt’s hero. A knight who donned glimmering red hair and a steel exterior. You wondered if Diluc had to prep himself before coming to you. 

“Sorry,” he said although there was nothing to be sorry for, really. “I mean, if you don’t like the flowers—”

Hey, I nearly froze my ass off to get this flower for you, but I care about you enough to risk frostbite.

You took the flowers. “Oh, no, I love it. I really, really do, Master Diluc!”

“Just Diluc.”

“Diluc,” you corrected. “Do I get financial compensation if I become someone dear to you?”

“For starters, I could give you a Mist Flower Corolla every day,” Diluc said, “if that’s enough to satiate you.”

“And then?”

“In the evenings, I’d take you to Cider Lake to watch the starry night while you read those magazines of yours. We don’t need to talk. Just bask in each other’s company, really.”

You tried to fight the smile that was growing on your face. You set down the flowers on the bar counter before saying, “that’s it?”

“I’d let you weave flowers into my hair. I’d take you all over Teyvat, if that’s what you wished as well. I’d take care of you as much as you had taken care of me whenever I’m injured. I’d learn your jokes and get along well with your friends because they seem pleasant.”

You didn’t know Diluc was such a romantic. You dusted Diluc’s shoulder. “I would hold your hand.”

Diluc frowned. “This doesn’t feel very equal to me.”

“You want more?” you quipped. “I’d kiss your forehead. And then I’d read to you. That is, if you like fairy tales… Oh! And then I’d take you up to the mountains where we could see the constellations the best! I love constellations; they’re so pretty.”

“Truthfully,” Diluc admitted, “you don’t have to do anything. I think… I think I’d be satisfied if I just had your company.”

“Would you now? And what about Donna from the flower shop?”

“What about her?”

“Oh, nothing.” You pretended to think about Diluc’s proposal. “I have to say, I think I’m enchanted by your offer, Diluc. I’m going to have to say yes. I will become someone dear to you.”

PART I - PART II - PART III

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: S/o Falls Back Into Old Habits

A/n: so this is a more serious request! if any of my readers feel like they need to talk to someone (whether about this or not) my messages are always open to anyone and everyone. Also this did get a little personal for me, (Jisung’s is based on my personal experience)

Requested by: Anonymous 

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING)Mentions of eating disorders, cursing

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @yangomangos​

Bangchan:

You had a history of not making the healthiest choices when it came to weight loss. It was a secret you kept to yourself. A secret you thought you wouldn’t have to deal with again. But, life sometimes throws stuff at you, and you can't help but fall back into old habits.

You knew Chan adored you. That didn’t mean hate comments got any easier to read. It was almost impossible to avoid them. Chan was always in the public eye, so it wasn’t long before your relationship was outed. At first, it was fine. Most of the Stray Kids fans accepted you; they wanted Chan happy. 

Eventually, after all the commotion died down, anti-fans started to surface. They had found old pictures of you from high school and posted them with cruel comments. It was difficult with Chan away from home so much. You felt like you were alone, with no one to help guide you away from the dark places the comments were leading you towards. 

The old pictures resurfacing reminded you of how you used to look when you were younger. It was easy to see the change in your body weight. You had started working through lunch. It was a simple excuse. It wasn’t a lie that your workload had doubled over the past week, though Chan was upset you skipped a meal, he understood. 

But your old mentality started to creep back in. The next meal to go was breakfast. Chan was usually gone before you got up so he didn’t notice. What he did notice was you slowly losing your appetite at dinner. At first, he thought you were just a little sick. He made sure to stock up on medicine next time he picked up groceries. However, in your mind, you still weren’t losing the weight you wanted fast enough. Knowing Chan would freak if you stopped eating dinner you decided to hide a bottle of diet pills behind a couple shoeboxes at the top of your closet. 

“Hey, Y/n? You wanna order a pizza?” Chan called from your bedroom. A pizza sounded divine. The sound of your stomach rumbling made you feel guilty. There was no way you would ruin this streak just for a pizza. 

“Umm...you can! I ate a little earlier.” You called back. There was a moment of silence. You figured he was just picking up some dirty laundry or something.

“Baby, when did you eat? You didn’t have lunch with me and-” 

Chan’s voice stopped all of a sudden. “I didn’t what?” You asked flipping through your phone. You frowned yet again coming across some hate comments. Sighing you tossed your phone onto the other side of the couch. “Babe?” You called still not hearing back from your boyfriend. Looking up you found Chan standing in the hallway holding a familiar white bottle in his hands. 

“What the hell is this?” 

Chan was angry. He was more than angry. He was pissed. He looked hurt when he tossed the bottle to you. “They are just diet pills, Chan.” His teeth dragged across his lip and his hands came to rest on his hips. 

“No. Only half the bottle is left! Y/n this is dangerous. I know you’ve been skipping meals!” You flinched as Chan raised his voice. He noticed and came over to you. His hands wrapped around yours, shaking a little bit. “Y/n....I’m scared for you....I’ve been scared for you. You won’t talk to me. I know about the hate and the meals, but this? Baby. You’ve gotta talk to me.” 

You looked at your boyfriend crouched in front of you, holding back tears. “Chan...it was just hard not to go back to bad habits. I’m so sorry.” Tears fell from his eyes hearing you speak. He dropped his head into your lap, still holding your hands tightly. He looked up, eyes puffy and red. His lips pressed against the back of my hand.

“I’m with you, yeah? I love you. I’m not going to let you do this alone.” 

Minho:

Being a model was one of the best jobs you had ever had. It wasn’t as easy as everyone thought. You had great expectations put on you. At any given moment your agency could call you and say that you needed to drop fifteen pounds and chop off half your hair and you would have to do it to keep your contract.

Minho was used to your crazy weight-loss diets and coming home to you running on the treadmill with six coats on. He trusted you to be safe with whatever you were doing. He always checked in on you, even when he was away on tour. 

Little texts making sure you were alright. Facetimes before he went to sleep. But, it was better having Mino home with you. Thankfully he would be home for the next six months. 

The blare of your ringtone woke you up from a deep sleep. Minho was still sound asleep next to you and two of the cats were snuggled up at the foot of the bed. Seeing the agency as the caller id, you picked it up. They gave you the requirements for the job as well as the deadline. “Next week!” You exclaimed trying to keep Minho from waking up.

After a few more exchanged words you hung up the phone and lay in bed. “Twenty pounds?” You whispered to yourself. There was absolutely no way you could do this in time without not being healthy. But, the pay day was huge. There was no way you could pass up this gig if you wanted to make rent this month. The only problem would be Minho. He would totally scream at you if he found out you weren’t being healthy losing the weight.

Hell, the weight they wanted you to be wasn’t exactly healthy either. Your boyfriend stirred next to you, wrapping an arm around your middle. The next week you did everything possible to lose the weight. You skipped meals and you practically lived at the gym. 

“Babe, have you eaten yet?” Minho said over the phone. He spoke to you on speakerphone as you ran with a hoodie on the treadmill in your apartment. You were three days away from your deadline with still five pounds left to lose. 

“Yeah,” You said out of breath. Lie. “I ate a big salad a couple hours ago.” Another lie. You hadn’t eaten anything in the last seventy-four hours. He sighed over the phone. “What’s wrong, Minho?”

“Y/n we ran out of lettuce like two days ago, babe.” 

Letting out a nervous laugh, you turned off the treadmill. “Minho.... I-uh...I ordered one-” You heard the line click. He hung up. “Oh fuck.” You said head in your hands. You shed the jacket and raced to your closet. You grabbed one of Minho’s big sweaters and threw it over your head. About ten minutes later the front door opened, Minho storming in throwing his stuff on the counter. “Hey! Did management let you off early-”

Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the apartment. The next thing you knew you were walking up the stairs of your agency. The two of you blew past your boss’s secretary. “What the fuck, man!?” Minho screamed bursting into my boss’s office. “Do realize you are driving my girlfriend slowly off a cliff? She could kill herself just trying to meet your expectations! LITERALLY.” 

Your boss was completely shocked. He was at a loss for words. “This is not on Y/n. This is on you for making her feel like she ever had to feel like she had to use such drastic measure simply to please your patriarchal sexist ass.” You felt like crying seeing Minho defend you. It was true. It was your choice to skip meals, but mostly out of fear of the termination of your contract.

“Sir-”

“No. I don’t think you know who I am. One word from me to the press could ruin you in this industry for the rest of your life.” Your boss stayed silent. Clearly fearing for his reputation. “Now, you are going to let Y/n end her contract, with full compensation, on the grounds of employee abuse.” Minho narrowed his eyes, completely furious. “Got it?”

He nodded and Minho took your hand in his and led you out of the office. “Thank you, Min.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder. 

“You’ve got to tell me, babe. I’m not gonna stand by while you are forcing yourself through this.”

Changbin:

Changbin wasn’t the most observant man on the planet. But, it was very hard to slip anything past him when it came to you. His job was demanding and took up far more of his time than either of you would like,  but the man was clingy even from a distance. 

You just dropped him off at the airport not four hours ago and he was already facetiming you. With Changbin gone, your apartment felt empty. The days seemed to blur together. Days flooded into nights and nights blended into early mornings. You were sad and missed him a lot. So you did the best thing you could think of to distract yourself was throw yourself into your work.

The tour was nowhere near its end and you were bringing more and more work home. You got into the bad habit of skipping meals and you barely ate anything for dinner, choosing instead to work. Most nights you fell asleep at your desk, having not eaten anything all day. 

Changbin would call at all hours of the night, so caught up in tour life he had forgotten that it was three am where you were. You didn’t mind, however, the calls always ended with you missing him even more. If things were really bad you would go down to the bakery and eat an entire cake by yourself only to refuse food for the rest of the week.

“I’m so lonely here without you,” You said to the glow of your laptop screen. Changbin’s face filled the screen. He was barefaced and had a hoodie covering his messy hair. Seeing your boyfriend even just through a facetime call was a godsend. “It’s been really hard keeping it together. When are you coming home?” 

He sighed. Clearly, he wasn’t handling the distance well either. “Four days.” Your head dropped into your hands. Four days. You could handle four more days. The question was could your body handle four more days? “Sweetie, you don’t look too good. Are you sure you are taking care of yourself?” Changbin looked seriously worried.

The internal struggle of whether to tell him or not was evident. 

“Y/n, you can tell me anything. I’m worried about you.”

Your fingers raked through your hair. Changbin let out an anxious sigh. He knew silence from you was a bad sign. “I haven’t exactly been eating well lately.” His face grew somber. 

“How not exactly?”

“Like....at all.”

“Y/n!” Changbin exclaimed. You were sure that he had woken up whatever boy he was sharing a room with. He broke seeing the shame on your face. How he had not noticed sooner was shameful to him. Your face was starting to sink in and dark circles lay under your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to bring up past problems I had and worry you with them. They are mine to deal with.” 

Changbin shook his head. “I want to share your problems, sweetie. Your problems are mine and I’m glad to take them.” He paused simply looking at you with care. “Do you want me to come home? I’ll be on the first flight out?”

“I can’t make you do that. The boys and STAY need you.”

“You need me more right now.”

Hyunjin:

Your mother was lapping you. She was getting married twice. You weren’t even married once! It didn’t help at all that your mother was one of the most judgemental living on the planet. All her friends were a close second. She had been hounding you for years to get a boyfriend. She was always nagging on you to settle down and give her grandchildren.

Hyunjin coming into your life was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He made you feel fully yourself and even helped you out of some really bad habits that your mother had gotten you into. Hyunjin slowly helped you rebuild your self-esteem and you loved him more every day for it. 

“Y/n, last time I saw you it looked like you had been putting on quite a bit of weight. I’ve already sent you the dress I want you wearing and you need to fit in it by the wedding. Am I clear?” The shrill voice of your mother filled the room. Why did you put her on speakerphone again? You looked at the lilac colored dress you were holding in the mirror. “Y/n?”

“Yes, mother. I understand.” There was no way you were fitting into this. She sent it to you this morning and the wedding was nine days away. It wasn’t surprising she pulled something like this. She always had impossible standards to hold you too. Having enough of your mother, you hung up the phone. 

With a sigh, you grabbed the dress and tried to put it on. It was by far the most unflattering garment you had ever worn. You couldn’t close the zipper and it emphasized all the wrong places on your body. You could barely breathe in the tight fabric. Wiping stressed tears from your face, you shedded the frock. The choice of never giving down your mother's complaints or simply wearing a different dress were pounding against your skull.

If only Hyunjin wasn’t still on a dating ban. Then you could tell your mother how happy you were with him and she would stop hounding about your weight and appearance. But, that wasn’t the case. Only eight more months. Eight more months and you could shout about Hyunjin from the rooftops without a care. Until then, you had to lose a lot of weight as soon as possible. 

As much as it hurt you to go behind Hyunjin’s back, you returned to your old habits, skipping most of your meals. It was easy to hide at first. Hyunjin would come home late from practice, so he didn’t find it unusual for you to have ‘eaten’ before him.

However, what wasn’t normal, was you getting dizzy spells. But you were so close to fitting in that dress you couldn't stop. Hyunjin was lounging on the couch, flipping through random channels. The edge of your vision started to blur out, making you clutch the counter for balance. Taking some deep breaths you focused on centering yourself. “Baby, you okay?” Hyunjin said, his voice laced with concern. He was already making his way over to you, hand finding the small of your back.

You pushed away from the counter to respond to your boyfriend, but your knees buckled under you. Hyunjin caught you, pulling you into his chest. “Oh shit- Y/n, baby. Look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?” Hyunjin held up three long fingers that looked more like five or six. You groaned, leaning into him. 

Hyunjin, slightly panicking, pulled you over to the couch and laid you down. You watched him pick up his phone ready to dial emergency services. “Jinnie! No! Don’t. Really, I’m fine. It was just a dizzy spell.” He narrowed his eyes at you. 

“You haven't had a dizzy spell since-” His words caught in his throat and he turned to you in shock. “Y/n...when was the last time you ate.” Your hands covered your face, rubbing your temples. 

“I had a ramen cup. Don’t worry.”

Hyunjin involuntarily rolled his eyes letting out a frustrated huff. “I didn’t say what. I said ‘when’. ‘When’, Y/n!” He sighed seeing you struggle to think back on the past few days.

“I think....like two and a half days ago?” Hyunjin sighed, picking up his phone again. He walked into another room and returned about ten minutes later. You watched him walk to the kitchen and grab a Gatorade from the fridge. He placed it in front of you just as the doorbell rang. He ran a hand through his blonde hair as he took a huge bag from a man at the door. 

“Eat. Drink.” He said placing the bag of takeout in front of you. He unwrapped the food and twisted the cap off the drink, placing it in your hand and lap. He had a worried look on his face as he watched you begin to eat. “I called your mom.” 

You immediately started choking on the food, giving Hyunjin yet another panic attack. “You WHAT?”

“I told her about us. I know the wedding and all her expectation is what is causing you stress. I told her to add me to the guest list and that you’re showing up in whatever you want to wear and that she better not say one word about it or else she’ll hear some choice words from me.”

Your eyes softened and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He nuzzled his face in your hair letting out a staggered sigh. “Anytime you feel like that, you’ve got to come tell me. I hurt when you hurt. I hurt even more when you try to keep me from helping you.”

Jisung:

Your stomach growled. In the past three days, you had eaten nothing but a couple crackers and a few pieces of cheese. College had been really rough on you lately. Classes were tough and you had resorted to stress eating while Jisung was away and working. It was even worse when he went off on tour. 

Without him around your self-esteem was at an all time low. In your mind, it was only a matter of time before Jisung came back with a girl who was much prettier, much skinnier, and just....better...than you. It wasn’t easy to tell Jisung this. You had never really been great at talking about your feelings.

The sound of your cell phone buzzed against the kitchen counter. It was almost midnight so only one person could be texting you. Your hands swiped through the notifications until you could read the message. Jisung.

Hey bb! <3 Gonna be home late. So sorry :( don't wait up for me

You sighed and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Your boyfriend was right, as much as you hated to admit it. There was no point in waiting up for him. The edge of your vision started to blur out so you shook your head and blinked a few times. “A hot shower would probably do me some good.” You said to the empty apartment. 

Tossing your clothes in the hamper, you walked in your underwear into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Suddenly you felt dizzy, heat flooding the small room, fogging up the mirror. Your head started to spin. The orientation of the room seemed to flip upside down. You grabbed at anything knowing you were going to fall any second. The shower curtain came down with you, your head banging against the shower wall and then against the bathtub. 

Black clouded your vision as hot water pelted down on you from the showerhead.

Jisung turned the lock of your shared apartment at about two in the morning. The first thing he noticed was the lights in the kitchen and bedroom were still on. He tossed his bag on the counter and set his phone down beside it. “Baby? You still up?” He called into the apartment. “Y/n?” He asked hearing the shower running. 

He gently wrapped his knuckles on the door. After a few minutes of not hearing a reply, he started to get a little worried. “Y/n? Babe.” Slowly he pushed open the door and peeked his head into the bathroom. His eyes widened seeing you passed out shower curtain falling on top of you. “OH SHIT!” 

Jisung burst into the bathroom and threw the shower curtain away from your unconscious body. He shut off the water and cradled your head away from the shower wall. As gently as he could he picked you up and set you on the bed the both of you shared. “Fuck. My phone. Where’s my phone?” Jisung scrambled, running out of the bedroom. He was frantic. 

“911. What is your emergency?” The calm voice of the operator spoke to him.

“My girlfriend. She uh--....fuck. She fell in the shower. I don’t know. I just came home. I think she hit her head.” Jisung ran a stressed hand through his hair, his feet carrying him back to the bedroom. He nodded at the operator's instructions and kept them on the phone as he grabbed one of his shirts from your closet to cover you up. 

The paramedics arrived and loaded you up in an ambulance. Your heavy eyes opened slowly and you looked around the back of the emergency vehicle. It hurt to turn your head, which was still making you feel dizzy. Jisung sat beside you, holding your hand tightly, head down, and tears falling down his cheeks. “Jisung...” You croaked out. 

His head shot up and he didn’t even bother trying to hide his tears. “Baby! Oh, thank god! Y/n you scared me half to death! What the hell happened?” He held your hand tightly, kissing along your knuckles.

“I’m so sorry, Ji....I only meant to skip a couple meals. I thought...I thought I had it under control.” You continued to ramble trying to make sure the words were coming out the way you wanted. Jisung looked heartbroken next to you.

“Y/n....you can’t...fuck...I love you so much. You’ve gotta tell me this stuff, okay?” He said choking up. You had never seen him so upset, so broken. “I can’t lose you. You’re perfect to me always.” You nodded, tears falling down your own cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry-...I’m so sorry. I should have told you...”

Felix:

After being a trainee since you were fourteen, you had picked up an unhealthy mindset about your body image. The weekly weigh-ins your company put you through always had you watching your weight down to the ounce. There had been several incidents regarding your health and some unhealthy weight choices, thankfully they hadn’t been leaked to the press and your company covered it up. Felix had been your friend since you debuted and you had been dating for almost a year and a half. The two of you kept it a secret since both of you were still under a dating ban. Felix was always there for you when you needed him. Even if that meant him coming to find you in a broom closet because you were having a rough time and needed a hug.

Comeback season was always a rough time for the both of you. His group was busy, your group was busy. There was hardly any time to see each other. Promotions were even worse, especially for you. You felt like you had to constantly watch what you were eating since there were cameras all around you. You limited you food intake to one small meal a day, choosing to drink lots of weight loss shakes and water instead. Your secret diet plan had been working for years. You hadn’t had an incident since debut. 

Your stomach growled as you looked in the mirror. “Y/n, did you eat?” Your leader asked brushing extra blush across her cheeks. You shook your head, knowing your voice would waver if you tried to lie. 

“I’ll get something after the performance.” 

The sound of other performances were playing on the music shows backstage TV. The skirt you were wearing was squeezing your stomach the fabric unbearably tight. “Girls, you’re up next! Stray Kids is after you. Backstage in two.” A stagehand said popping into the room then quickly exited. The members of your group started filing out of the room, heading backstage. 

Stray Kids were waiting backstage already. You waved at Felix in the dark as you all came to stand next to them. You felt yourself get hot all of sudden and the room was beginning to tilt. The heels you were wearing made it a little more difficult for you to catch your balance. 

You felt a hand on your back, steadying you. Felix appeared behind you, a concerned expression on his handsome face. “You okay, darling?” You nodded and brushed a bead of sweat from your forehead. 

“Yeah. Just got a little dizzy for a second.”

Felix still looked concerned but gave you a quick kiss on the cheek after making sure no one was looking. “I’ll see you after your performance, darling.” He whispered in your ear before sending you onstage. Your group got in position and started performing your new song. Your head was spinning and you felt like you were going to pass out under the white hot stage lights. 

The lyrics to your part of the song came out breathy as you danced in the center. It was evident you weren’t giving your one hundred percent, but you smiled through the pain you were feeling. You let your face fall as you transitioned to the back. If you could just hold on until the song was over.

In the middle of the dance break, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you crumpled onto the floor, your body had been running on zero fuel for too long and gave out. The gasps of the audience stopped the performance and your group members froze in place. You felt someone run next to you and turn you over. You dazed eyes looked up to see Felix, fear plastered all over his face. 

“We need to get her to the hospital.” Your leader said ushering the two of you off stage. Felix carried you in his arms until you were resting on the hospital bed, still in your stage clothes. Felix and your leader sat in the room with you while the doctors ran several tests. They hooked an IV up to your arm and waited for the doctor to return. 

“So, who are you again?” The doctor asked pointing to Felix and your leader. She introduced herself, but before she could say anything else Felix interrupted her.

“I’m Felix, Y/n’s boyfriend. What going on, doctor?” She turned to you with wide eyes pointing at Felix. You motioned to her and an unspoken promise was made that you would talk about it later. She gave you a stern motherly look before turning back to what the doctor was saying. 

“Well. She is severely malnourished. Her blood sugar and iron are dangerously low.” Felix put his head in his hands, clearly upset. “I’m seeing in her records this has occurred before?” Felix nodded reached for your hand. “Well, I want her to stay here until the IV is drained and someone should make sure she is eating and resting well.” The doctor wrote out a copy of meds and instructions for both Felix and your leader. 

You watched Felix listen intensely on everything the doctor said about your health, taking notes of his own. Eventually, the doctor and your leader left the room. “Darling...I should have figured it out when you said you were dizzy. I’m so sorry. I should have- Fuck, I saw the sign and I didn’t do anything.” He rested his head in his hands clearly upset. You pulled him over to you and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you, for being here for me. That’s all I need.” You kissed the top of his head and buried your face in his neck.

Seungmin:

You could tell Seungmin anything. You had been best friends before you started dating and were basically inseparable. There was only one thing Seungmin didn’t know about you, your history with not so healthy weight loss methods. In highschool like most students, your self esteem was a soul sucking bottomless pit. 

Every insecurity was brought to light by your cruel peers. Feeling broken you sought comfort looking magazines filled with beautiful women. Beautiful skinny women. Your desire to be like them grew stronger as you grew older. At first, you only skipped meals when extra work needed to be done. To you, there was no bad consequence at the time. Not only would you lose a little weight but you would get more accomplished. 

Then skipping meals became a regular thing. You would usually get dinner with Seungmin most nights but still ate light. Seungmin paid no mind to it, assuming you were eating healthy during the day.

After a few months, he noticed you were extremely thin to an unhealthy degree. Seungmin was hesitant to ask you about it at first. You were an adult and could take care of yourself. He also didn’t want to come off as clingy and intrusive, but he was really worried about you to the point where he would lose sleep wondering if you had actually eaten that day and lied to him over a phone call. 

Soon, he had enough. “Y/n, be honest with me.” He exclaimed one day while he was over at your apartment. You stopped mid-sip of water and turned to your boyfriend. “You’re skipping meals aren’t you?” 

Silence filled the apartment. Every sound seemed to have been amplified. The dripping water of the bathroom faucet, the clock in the kitchen, the fabric of Seungmin’s sweater brushing against the couch. He watched you with determined eyes. 

“Are you mad at me?” You asked hesitantly. He let out a heavy sigh taking your hands in his. He looked hurt.

Your boyfriend looked back up at you. He seemed to be studying every detail of your face. The bags under your eyes. The way your cheeks had begun to sink in. “I’m not mad.” He whispered. Seungmin took his time choosing his next words with care. “I’m worried, Y/n. Look at you. You are clearly not healthy. This has gotten out of hand.” 

You felt exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. You felt small. Seungmin was right. What you were doing wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t safe, but you couldn’t just stop. It had gotten to the point that you barely had an appetite during normal meal times. 

“Min...I can’t just stop. I’m really messed up aren’t I?”

Seungmin pulled you into his chest, resting his head on yours. “No more than anyone else.” He whispered. It felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders knowing that Seungmin knew your secret. You didn’t feel alone anymore. “We can get you the help you need. All I want is for you to be healthy and happy.” 

There were a million things you wanted to say to him, but actions seemed to work better. You nodded against his chest, letting your arms fall from around his neck to rest gently over his heart. “I should have told you sooner.” You said softly, listening to his heartbeat. 

His fingers softly ran through your hair. “What matters is you told me. I’m not going to let you go through this alone anymore. I’m always here for you, Y/n.” 

Jeongin:

You had recently got a new roommate. A roommate who looked like she walked straight out of a Victoria’s Secret magazine. It didn’t help that she often walked around in her body hugging workout gear. You felt pudgy next to her. She was of course the nicest person on the planet which didn’t make your jealousy decrease any more than it should. In reality, it only grew more.

You wanted what she had. At first, you just started with a diet and exercise. Jeongin was happy to work out with you in the gym. He loved going on night runs with you near the Han river. But, you just weren’t getting the results you wanted. You still looked like a blobfish next to your roommate and were seeing no near progress anytime soon.

The first thing that Jeongin noticed was you stopped letting him come around to your apartment. In your mind the less he saw your roommate the less likely he was to compare you too. Not that he would, but there was always this doubt in the back of your mind. 

The second was your dramatic change in demeanor. A cloud of depression seemed to hang over you wherever you went. You were tired and not acting like yourself. Lastly, he noticed you getting thinner and thinner. 

You had cut out so many things from your diet that you were basically only eating a few crackers and slices of cheese a couple times a day. You stopped going out to dinner with Jeongin, choosing to go out when you knew you wouldn’t be eating. 

He had no idea how to approach you, but he was worried sick. So, he went to the one person he knew he could trust with anything. Chan. He sat done with Chan and told him about everything he was thinking and feeling. After getting advice from his hyung he felt much better about asking you what was going on.

The two of you were on one of your Han river night runs. The pace you were running at was slower than usual. Jeongin made sure to go your speed, picking up on little things he noticed. “Y/n, are you sure you are alright?” He asked, stopping. 

You nodded hands resting on your knee. Your chest was tight and your stomach hurt. It felt like hot volcanic air was pressing down on you like an anvil. “I’m fine. I just need a break.” He nodded and crouched down next to you. Not many people were out since it was later in the evening, but Jeongin still kept an eye out for pedestrians who might come by.

“Angel, you don’t look good at all.” He said rubbing your back. “Come sit for a minute.” Not letting you say anything against the notion he dragged you over to a bench and handed you his water bottle. You flinched tasting what was in it. Definitely not water.

“What is this?” 

“Don’t worry. It’s got plenty of electrolytes in it. Just drink, angel. You need it.”

Jeongin rubbed your back as you drank from the bottle. “How did you know I needed that?” You questioned still out of breath. You attempted to hand him back the water bottle but he put it back in your hands.

“I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

You sighed head in your hands. “How long have you known?” 

He shrugged playing with a bracelet on his wrist. “Maybe a week,” He had known for that long and he hadn’t said anything? Why? He gave you a tight-lipped smile as if reading your thoughts. “I was hoping you would tell me. But, you come first before anything.” He laced his fingers with yours. “Why are you skipping meals, angel?”

You sighed, looking out at the water, feeling much better now. “I was jealous of my roommate. She just is so fit and gorgeous. I feel so inferior next to her.” You hand carded through your messy hair as you looked up at your boyfriend. “Maybe I was...the teensiest bit worried that she might turn your head because of how slender she was.”

“Angel, you are perfect to me. I never want you to change.” He said pressing a kiss to your temple. 

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[lilfellasblog]

King Roman and the Fake Harem

Summary: King Roman has enemies directly outside his walls, pressure from inside his walls to get a harem, and no solution in sight. Until he sees the solution has been right under his nose the entire time. This is the story of how an aroace King gets a harem of advisors.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Two brief instances of sexual harassment, one instance of groping, swearing (because Virgil), and people sneering at sex workers/ presumed sex workers.

Word count: 2385

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Fic Masterlist here!

King Roman sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, give me a few hours to think of something,” he groaned.

His lead advisor that he’d inherited from his father, who Roman refused to refer to as anything but Orange, protested “But sir, we need a decision soon. It’s already been a week since enemy troops positioned themselves just outside our walls, and we’ve done little besides ask them to leave. That, on top of your lack of harem-”

“I’ll have something for you in two hours, regarding the troops,” Roman said, waving Orange away.

Orange huffed and spun on his heel, leaving the throne room grumbling. Roman brushed a hand over his face. A week into being king and the enemy decides to attack? The nerve!

“You know, if you roll out the catapults to the front gate, that would take care of the troops outside the walls on that side, and then you could concentrate your archers on the rear of the kingdom walls.”

Roman looked over to the side of his throne. Sir Virgil had been his best knight, until he’d been shot by an arrow that had permanently damaged his shoulder. That was 4 weeks ago, he was still in a sling, and ever since he’d been released from the medical wing he’d been making his lack of work everyone else’s problem.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And just how would you propose moving the catapults from the armory down 100 feet of stairs to the front entrance, hm?”

Sir Virgil shrugged. “Ramps.”

Roman stopped short. Oh, he’s smart. “...very well.” He appraised Virgil. He’ll never be able to be a knight again and he needs something to do, and he’s not too unfortunate-looking… “How would you like a job?”

/////

Virgil adjusted the silks that hid exactly nothing of his upper body so they’d sit comfortably over his still-bandaged arm and shoulder. He was about to join his first ever advisor meeting, and he was beyond nervous. He’d been rather enjoying his life as the first member of Roman’s harem (that so far hadn’t even resulted in a single flirtatious remark, which Virgil wasn’t complaining about but he was certainly confused by), and he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up.

“Ready?”

Virgil jumped and hissed through his teeth as his shoulder was jostled by the sudden movement.

Roman was frowning. Before Virgil could apologize, Roman asked, “Are you alright? I can have a healer come over. If you’d prefer to sit out this meeting and rest, that would be a more than acceptable course of action.”

Virgil was stunned. “Huh?”

Roman nodded at him. “Your shoulder, it seems to be causing you pain.”

“Oh! It’s not too bad, I’ll be fine. Still getting used to not moving it too much.”

Roman laughed. “Yes, that I have been witness to. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Do I need to walk, like, meekly or whatever?” Virgil asked, cheeks already heating up at the future humiliation.

A look of disgust came over Roman. “No, I wouldn’t expect that of anyone under my employ.”

Virgil let out a breath. “Alright, cool cool.”

The meeting started out as expected, a few snickers from his former co-workers who were still knights, but nothing Virgil couldn’t ignore. Virgil recognized Orange by his blaze orange ensemble that hurt his eyes (no wonder Roman refused to give Virgil his actual name). When it came time to discuss military tactics, Roman spoke first.

“I would like to introduce my military advisor, Sir Virgil. Sir Virgil, if you would, please announce your strategy for driving off the enemies.”

Before Virgil could get a word out, Virgil’s former boss blurted out, “You’re trusting your military strategy with a common whore?!”

Virgil levelled him with his best death glare. “Call me that again and I’ll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

Only Virgil was close enough to hear the King swallow his laughter at the general’s paling face. Roman cleared his throat and spoke.

“To answer your question, yes. Sir Virgil, if you wouldn’t mind continuing?”

Virgil smirked. “Gladly.” For the next 20 minutes, Virgil confidently discussed his strategy with the catapults and archers, fielded questions, and specified the ideal placements. As the meeting drew to a close and Roman went to do the obligatory schmoozing with top leaders (Virgil noticed with glee how the military personel scrambled to get out, supposedly to “update the troops”), the Lead Advisor of Common Education approached Virgil. Virgil did the customary respectful bow, which the advisor returned.

“I trust King Roman is treating you well?” he inquired, blue eyes sparkling from beneath a sandy fringe.

“Yes, very much so. This fucked up rotator cuff is the best thing to happen to me,” Virgil internally winced at his choice of words. Gonna have to work on that.

The advisor just laughed. “I suppose it must be! Surely, being part of a harem is much more comfortable than being a knight.”

Virgil shrugged, and winced as he once again forgot about his injured shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I’m just glad I can help in some capacity by being a strategic advisor.”

“Yes, yes, that must be quite fun for you,” the advisor purred. Virgil bristled at his condescending tone. “Do let me know if you require more… attention than what King Roman provides.”

Virgil wrinkled his face. He focused on Roman, and heard his attention was on Orange who was insisting that one person could hardly be considered a harem. “I think I’m good.”

“Oh, of course, of course, but do keep me in mind.” And before Virgil realized what was happening, the advisor had patted his ass.

Virgil used his good arm to grab the man’s offending hand, twist him around, bring him to his knees, and place a foot on the middle of his back.

“Ow! You stupid whore, get off-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” King Roman thundered.

Virgil released the advisor. “This guy was perving all over me, and I get I’m part of a harem but I don’t stand for that shit.”

“It was just a love tap!”

King Roman’s face was red with anger. “Sir Virgil, he encroached on your person?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“You are relieved of your duties.”

Virgil sagged while the advisor smiled smugly. Welp, the grapes and silk were fun while they lasted. “Yeah, okay.”

Roman jerked back a bit in confusion. “What? No, you,” he glared at the now-ex-advisor.

The advisor was aghast. “Excuse me? How dare you!”

“How dare you, touching a man without his consent and then having the gall to speak to me in such a tone!”

Virgil was in too much shock to process the rest of the conversation. He came back to his senses just outside the medical wing. Roman was instructing the doctor to recheck Virgil’s bandages as they didn’t seem to quite hold his shoulder still, and sighed in relief when he caught Virgil watching them.

“Virgil, there you are! Are you alright? Say the word, and I’ll arrange for you to speak with our mind doctor.”

Virgil blinked a few times.

Roman turned back to the doctor. “Could he have gone into shock? Does he need-”

Virgil shook his head to unfreeze his brain. “No, I’m fine. I’ve had people trying to kill me, part of the job, I’m okay.”

King Roman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? Truly, if you need to talk to someone-”

Virgil held his good hand up. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll talk to someone later if I need to.”

Roman sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Oh! The military is deploying your strategy as we speak! I thought I’d let you know before the good doctor looked you over.”

“Dope! Wait, what?”

King Roman was walking away. “I’ll see you once you’re tended to!” he called over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about, my shoulder… actually kinda hurts, okay fine.”

/////

One successful defeat of an opposing military later, and Roman had removed yet another advisor from his circle for creepy behavior.

“Hey Princey, I appreciate you defending my honor and shit, but that was the Lead Advisor of Trade,” Virgil began.

“And I’m better off without him!” Roman declared.

Virgil scratched his chin. “I mean yeah, but also you have a trade meeting with neighboring kingdoms coming up in a week, and two days after that you have an internal trade meeting with surrounding villages and the farmers within the city walls.”

Roman started stretching his arms and back in a way Virgil had identified meant he was stressed. “And there has been even more talk of my small harem, which does not bode well for external negotiations,” Roman murmured to himself.

Virgil shifted. “Yeah, that. Why don’t you just have your new advisors be part of your harem like me?”

Roman paused. “That’s… brilliant! Thank you Virgil!”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, no problem. It’s a pretty sweet gig. Although I don’t know why you haven’t-” he cut himself off with an awkward cough.

King Roman looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I’m not… particularly interested in those activities. I apologize if I’ve disappointed you.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I mean, I’m kinda relieved, not that you’re not hot! But I’d rather not break my two rules.”

Roman preened at the compliment. “What are your two rules?”

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.”

“Ah.”

“Look, there might be enough time to get someone else up to speed before the trade meetings. But you’ll have to choose someone quickly.”

Roman sat down in his throne and looked skyward in thought. “Are you familiar with Patton Hart? He’s already organized the internal farmers into their current union. What of him?”

Virgil remembered running into him right after a difficult mission and somehow ending up with a bag of tomatoes, a bag of bell peppers, and strict instructions to bathe and sleep. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

“How do you think he’d do as an advisor?”

Virgil didn’t have to think for long. “I think he’d be awesome. Want me to talk to him?”

“If you’d be so kind. And please assure him that his role would be strictly as an advisor.”

Virgil smirked. “You mean a shirtless advisor.”

Roman turned beet red, and Virgil cackled.

/////

Before Virgil knew it, the harem quarters weren’t so lonely. Patton had agreed to join, very happy with the wardrobe and quickly making a name for himself. Patton had, in turn, recommended Logan Logos to replace the other creepy advisor. Logan had run a very successful pre-K Montessori program before joining the palace harem, and he fit in with the rest of the advising circle well, already creating reforms to account for diverse learning styles. In fact, Virgil had noticed that the advisors who weren’t part of the harem started taking him and Patton more seriously once the proper and strong Logan had joined them.

The day of the inter-kingdom trade meeting had come, and Logan and Virgil would both be attending along with Patton. Everyone was nervous about how the sweet and gentle Patton would do at such a fierce and antagonist event.

Virgil’s shoulder was out of the cast and sling, although it was still tender. He clapped a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em,” he said, trying to be encouraging.

Patton flushed. “Thanks Vee.”

The meeting began, along with the customary hour-long political niceties, and finally it came time for the trade advisors to speak on their leaders’ behalf.

Virgil ground his teeth at the open snickering of Patton’s garb, and he could tell Logan and Roman were feeling the same way. Patton, however, seemed to be unaffected by it all. As expected, the Kingdom of Fiery Fields spoke first.

“King Roman, we propose a 5% increase of taxes for the crops we export to your kingdom, lest we cease all wheat exports to you.”

“You may call me Advisor Hart, and for what reason? We already pay you 12% more for your crops than other kingdoms.”

The platinum blonde man stared at Patton with haughty hazel eyes. “Because, Advisor Hart,” he sneered. “our crops are unmatched in quality!”

Patton nodded his head. “Fair point. I suppose you won’t mind a moratorium on all exports of our steel to your kingdom then?”

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room.

Platinum Blonde was outraged. “You wouldn’t!”

“Actually, we would. You are now meeting with the new King’s new advisory circle, and we won’t stand for pointless tax increases that a review of the books show only go to pay the noblewomen you’re cheating on your wife with,” Patton stated, smiling sweetly the entire time.

Half of the trade advisors around the table laughed, while the other half gawked. Platinum Blonde backed down, and the trade meeting lasted for only 2 days instead of the typical 3 since Patton effectively shut down any ego-based bullshitting that occurred.

/////

Virgil and Patton were taking turns trying to toss grapes into each others’ mouths, laughing, while Logan pretended to be irritated by their antics. The doors opened suddenly to show Orange, in his eye-burning all-orange ensemble.

“Hiya!” Patton chirped, hiding his own discomfort. They were all intensely disliked by Orange, who seemed to blame them for Roman not being interested in sex or romance.

Orange sniffed. “Advisor Logos, the noble King would like to extend his congratulations on the tax reform that redirected many of the fees of our noblepeople to educational supplies.”

Logan nodded at him. “Thank you. I’m quite proud of that myself and am very glad it came to fruition. Was their anything else you required, Advisor Wrath?”

“What?!” Virgil and Patton shouted at the same time. They whipped their heads over to Orange.

“No. Good day.” With that, Orange - or rather, Advisor Wrath - left their room.

Virgil and Patton turned back to Logan, who was seemingly reading again.

“Dude what the fuck-”

“How the heck did you know?!”

Logan just raised an eyebrow while continuing to read. “I have a way of finding things out,” he said, looking up for a second to smirk at them before going back to his book.

Virgil and Patton decided to not test Logan’s abilities.