#messenger of fanfiction

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Cheeky little Angel

The first installment of this project is done! I’m actually really proud of myself. Due to the fact that someone I’m avoiding is stalking my Ao3, posting it there is going to be kind of delayed for the moment, but it’s going here. 

It’s not proofread or anything yet, so if you see typos, no you didn’t.

Taglist: @apoziopeze3​ @belsw06 @yvive​ @annahhopee​​

(Feel like everyone already knows the typical drill. Bolded names couldn’t be tagged for whatever reason. I’ll see if I can tag them in the replies.)

CW: Mainly just background building, canon? Who’s that?, Minimal David/Angel interactions (there will be more in the next chapter I promise), Alexis is kind of a bully but no slander to her, Angel and Vincent had such potential best friend energy, William is a dad, GN listener

Summary: Angel was pulled from their former class by William Solaire, now staying with him and his two children as a ward. Everything seems pretty good, even if Vincent made them lose and Alexis doesn’t seem to like them very much. But how can they grow closer to a certain Marquess?

Redacted Masterlist

Angel put down the card with a smirk, pressing their remaining cards close to their chest. Smoke lingered in the air, gathering in the corners as the smell of tobacco permeated every sense. It was thick enough to practically feel. Angel would have coughed as it felt stuck in the back of their throat, but they didn't want to risk revealing any cards still in their hand.

They didn't stay awake this long, simply to lose because the smoke felt suffocating.

"Should we open the window? There are youngsters here after all." An accented voice spoke up. Angel glanced towards the source and smiled gratefully towards William Solaire. He returned the smile and Angel pulled the cards closer to their face, staring at the numbers and suits as they awaited their turn to roll around again.

They didn't particularly enjoy dinner parties, nor understood the innate desire for them. But then again, most were thrown by the upper class, something that Angel was certainly not.

At least not in title. However, Angel had a particular skill of attracting the company of the noble class and getting the connections. William was their closest friend though. Angel wasn't really sure how old he was. Old enough to have two grown children, but Angel had never met his wife. They had heard that Alexis and Vincent were adopted, but they didn't see how that was relevant, so they never bothered to confirm the rumors. Either way, William had always been kind to them. He bought them clothes, let them stay in his house, and now they got to play cards with him and his companions.

They had first met William when the nobles held a festival where the middle and lower class were allowed to attend. Their more cynical friends had said it was just because the nobles wanted to stare as if they were looking at animals in captivity. Angel didn't care though since free food and entertainment had been promised. William had been one of the main financers of the festival and been asking around randomly if the attendees were enjoying themselves. Apparently he wished to finance a festival annually and wanted to know how he might be able to improve it. Angel had been one of the surveyed and their energy had amused William. One conversation turned to two, then invitation for a meal with his family - His daughter, Alexis, had not been in attendance - and Angel had clicked with Vincent as well. Then they just came around more often. They even had their own room now within William's home. All throughout their time with the Solaires, they had only met Alexis once and that was very briefly. She had mistaken Angel as one of William's servants and asked for Angel to fetch her lady's maid. Throughout time, they had essentially become his ward. Happily, I might add.

"Your turn." Vincent said from where he sat to Angel's right. They nodded and looked down at the table, squinting slightly. One of the problems with playing a common card game amongst the noble class, was that Angel didn't really fully grasp how to play. They knew a few of the basics which was how they were still in the game instead of sitting out on the sidelines. Their brow furrowed for a moment as Vincent leaned back in his seat to glance at their cards. Angel scowled at him and he rolled his eyes before tapping one of his cards. They stared for a moment before hesitantly placing down their own cards in the same placement. Vincent smiled and they returned the action with a grateful grin.

They were out in the next round.

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Angel presses their face further into the pillow, the sheets all twisted and messed up amongst their tangled limbs. Back at their old home their bed is small. The bed they have at William's house has space for them to spread out and then more some. They aren't sure how his servants accomplish it, but the sheets are always so soft and smell faintly of lavender. They don't mind the smell, but it's odd. They sit up, the curtains already drawn back and clothes laid neatly on the chaise in the corner of the room. Angel wasn't used to having a servant change them as William had discovered on one of Angel's first overnight stays here.

It had been no fault of the servant of course, they were only trying to complete a task on the long list of chores they had for the day. But the moment they had tried to peel away Angel's sleepwear, they had run into the hall with a yelp. Now clothes were laid out for them to get into. Not too complex of clothing, and if Angel needed help, they could always pull the cord on the side of the headboard.

Once they were changed, the exited their room, closing the door behind them. Their hair was still messy from sleep, but they were just going to ignore it. Besides, while they were eating one of the maids often took it upon herself to style their hair for them. Angel was pretty sure it was the same maid that styled Vincent and Alexis's hair for them as well. What was her name - they were horrible with remembering names - they were pretty sure it started with an H. Henley perhaps?

They opened the door and entered the sunroom. William always took his tea and the morning paper here. And if there was tea, there were bound to be snacks.

"Good morning, my dear. Did you have a good rest?" He asked, looking up from his paper upon Angel's arrival. Angel nodded and yawned as they reached for a pastry before curling up on one of the armchairs. William chuckled and looked back at his paper.

"Vincent is a cheater. He made me lose last night. Did you see how he convinced me to play that card and then play his card when it was his turn that overpowered all mine?" Angel asked after they had taken a bite. They watched as his nose scrunched to hold back more of his laughter before he folded the paper neatly and placed it in his lap to look at them.

"I have always found you clever. But you ought have known better then to trust Vinny when he makes you a... suggestion in a competitive game where he is taking part." He was amused by the antics, Angel could tell. They stuck their tongue out at him and he laughed this time freely.

"Are you disparaging my good name?" Another voice asked and Angel looked over as the aforementioned man walked in. They smiled mischievously and Vincent raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest. He was wearing red today, his vest a maroon with black embroidery. He looked dashing, but he was still the man who made Angel lose the previous night. So he would get no compliments from them, even if typically Angel gave them freely.

"Of course not Vinny. Do you take me as some sort of heathen?" Angel said and Vincent scowled at them playfully.

"Can you belie-" He asked, turning towards his left before sighing and looking towards the door fully. "Sam, you don't need to linger at the door like that. Come in already." He said and another man walked in, looking kind of sheepish. William made a small sound and stood up, his arms spreading wide with a grin.

"Sam! I see you're finally back from your travels. How was it? Were the locals in the areas you went to kind?" He asked and Sam grew a little less sheepish and a bit more embarrassed. Angel grabbed another pastry to help satisfy their sweet craving as they looked at the three men.

"It was... interesting certainly. I am glad to be home though." Sam said and Angel was delighted to hear the soft drawling accent in his voice. As if Angel's delight was verbal, Sam looked towards them and tipped his head. "Hello there." He said and Angel waved, their other hand placing over their lips as they chewed.

"Angel, this is Sam. He's a dear friend of ours. Sam, this is Angel. They're something of my ward." William introduced and Sam smiled at Angel.

"I know what that's like. William is very spoiling, isn't he?" Sam asked and Angel snickered as they nodded.

"He gave me a really big bed when I told him I don't mind a small one or anything." They agreed and Sam laughed. Angel decided that they liked him. They paused though upon hearing the clack of heels on the wooden floor and Alexis entered the room. She also wore red, but while Vincent's clothing varied in shades of red, hers was simply all blood red. Even the lace trimming. Angel didn't miss the way that Sam tensed at her morning greeting, nor the way that William stepped between the two, practically protective. But not of his daughter. Rather as if he was protecting Sam from Alexis. Angel looked over at Vincent, catching his eye, and he just gave a slow small shake of his head.

"I'm going out for the day. I need your carriage." Alexis said. They had noticed that she never really asked for anything. Simply stated her needs and waited for them to be met. It was unnerving the way she forced everyone to bend to her will eventually so she could get her desired end result. Everyone but William and Vincent anyways.

"Of course. Just stay in sight of the footman please." William said. What might be seen as a father relenting to his daughter's demands, Angel viewed differently. It was obvious whatever history between Sam and Alexis made the former very uncomfortable in her presence and denying Alexis would only make her linger until she got what she wanted. William was separating the two.

Alexis groaned, clearly not fully satisfied with the conditions of her request and she stepped fully into the room. Angel froze as she saw Sam practically flinch as his hands curled into shaking fists. Vincent straightened up in preparation. Of what, Angel didn't know.

"I don't want to be babysat like a governess with a charge by a footman, William." Alexis argued and her gaze slid to Sam. "I'll take Sam with me instead. How about that?" Sam glared at her and it was then Angel realized his reactions had fear and uncomfortability in them, yes. But also anger. He was angry at her and she seemed pleased with it, just as long as Sam was looking at her.

"I can go. I think Vincent and Sam were going to help William with something right now anyways." Angel stood up and offered before William could try to think of an excuse. They walked towards Alexis with a smile, even though their blood chilled for moment. William watched them before sensing they had their mind made up and he looked at Alexis with a determined set of his brows.

"Angel is right. My apologies, Alexis dear." William agreed, holding up a hand to silence Vincent before he could fully begin his protest. Alexis sighed and eyed Angel for a long moment. They tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. Finally after several long moments, Alexis sighed and turned around to leave. Which apparently meant that Angel got the go-ahead. They waved to Sam with a grin before going after her. Sure, they would be uncomfortable. But it was just that. Not fear or anger too. Well... maybe a tinge of fear. But Alexis made a very intimidating figure, and Angel had never gotten a chance to actually know her. They only knew horror stories from Vincent. Hopefully their friend just liked to play up the dramatics to provoke a reaction from them and Alexis wasn't actually as much of a hellion like Vincent claimed.

"So... where are we going?" Angel asked as they fell into step with her. She looked over at them as if they were something gross she had just stepped in. Angel tried not to take it personally. Maybe she just always looked so disgusted when she was relaxed. ... yeah this wasn't going to be fun.

"Your hair is a mess." She said, sounding exasperated. Angel raised a hand to touch the top of their head before laughing nervously.

"Yeah. I.. uh... haven't had a chance to style it." They excused. Alexis clicked her tongue and shrugged as she exited the house. Angel followed behind her, already looking miserable. And they hadn't even gotten an answer to their question yet.

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

The carriage ride was just as uncomfortable as you might imagine. Angel didn't like long spaces of silence and Alexis seemed to delight in the way that Angel squirmed and wriggled. When the footman opened the carriage door, Angel practically leapt out, desperate for solace from the intense atmosphere in the bubble of space. Alexis left the carriage far more gracefully before sighing and looking at Angel.

"Come here and I'll fix your hair." She said as if offering a favor to a child. Angel frowned but obeyed nonetheless, letting Alexis adjust their messy hair to her liking. When she finally deemed them acceptable, she started towards a dress shop. Angel blinked and followed after her, eying all the well dressed people loitering and moving along the sidewalks. Angel smoothed down the front of their clothing. There was embroidery. After all it was difficult to escape decorated fabrics in this class. But theirs was so simplistic in comparison.

Alexis opened the door of one of the shops, causing the bell to ring. They stepped in after her, staring around them in awe of all the different colored fabrics.

"Alexis, it's all so beautiful." They breathed. She look at them before rolling her eyes and adjusting the off the shoulder sleeves of her dress. Everyone loved to copy the style of dress the queen wore, so more and more often women's shoulders were being exposed. Angel didn't really care who showed off what. They had their own concerns. Alexis grabbed their wrist to drag them with her as she approached the counter. That's when Angel froze, their eyes locking on a figure who was quietly arguing with another girl.

He was tall, and if Alexis stood next to his intimidating aura, the Solaire would seem like a sweet puppy. But while she scared Angel, this man had a different quality to him. He was almost sweet in a scary way. The way that wolves were scary, but also friend shaped and fluffy. They tapped her shoulder, getting Alexis's attention.

"Who's that man over there?" They whispered. Alexis followed their finger before swatting their hand down with a huff.

"Not all nobility know who each other are. That's like me pointing to some random street urchin and asking you what their name is." She grumbled and Angel looked over at her confused.

"So you don't know him?" They asked in return and Alexis glared at them.

"Well of course I do, but don't just assume! That's David Shaw. He's the head of the Shaw household. It's another old name, like the Solaires. He's the only living blood Shaw, but the way that William has friends that are considered on the same level as the Solaire family, so does he. They're utterly brutish if you ask me." She sniffed. That was all Angel needed to know as the untangled their wrist from her grasp as she spoke to the tailor about a dress she had ordered earlier in the month. They walked over to David and the lady he was arguing with, catching the last bit of her sentence.

"-hold him in line. Although don't expect me to not bring this up the next time you need something." David sighed and rubbed his temples. While everyone wore splashes of color, David wore black clothing. Angel would have thought him in mourning. But everyone they knew in mourning always had a sad feel to them. David just seemed agitated.

"Yes, I expected as much. Regardless, thank you Arden." He said. His voice was low and husky, sending shivers running every which way through their body. Angel rubbed their palms on their sides and took a deep breath. Arden glanced over at them, looking confused before looking at David and then smirking. They nodded, patted David arm and wandered away.

"Hi mister Shaw." Angel chirped and David looked at them, his eyebrow arching as he stared at them. Angel supposed if he had a title he was wondering why they hadn't used. But Alexis hadn't told them what title was, they were beginning to realize. Oh well, hopefully he didn't mind.

"Have you been following me?" David asked as he narrowed his eyes. Angel blinked, processing what he said, and tilted their head with confusion.

Following him? Why would he think that? They wondered, but they shook their head.

"No. I haven't, sir." They said, just as cheerfully. His jaw clenched the line growing more defined. Angel's heart fluttered and they smiled at him again.

"How do you know my name then? I don't recall meeting you." He asked again. Angel supposed he had a point there. After all, Angel had no idea who he was or that he existed up until a few moments ago.

"Oh. I asked a friend if they knew who you were when I saw you enter. You're just so beautiful, I couldn't run the risk of not meeting you." Angel answered with a shrug. They delighted in the way David's eyes widened with shock and his lips parted. They looked soft. "Your lips look very soft." They added. That actually made him take a small step back from them as a strangled sound left his throat. Angel wondered if they had crossed a line. The noble class was far more reserved than Angel. It was kind of sad how compliments were so restricted. Vincent said it was for propriety, but what wasn't proper about telling someone how you viewed them and boosting their ego and confidence?

"Do... do you talk like this to everyone you know?" He asked when he finally regained control of himself. Angel tipped their head to a side as their finger tapped the bottom curve of their lip before answering him.

"Only the striking ones." They said simply and watched as he only grew flustered again. It was easy to fluster him. Vincent often just entered a complimenting game with Angel. But David seemed more reserved then that. Held back. "You're very in control of yourself, I can tell." They added, watching curiously as something flashed over his eyes and he actually smirked for a moment.

Before Angel, or David for that matter, could say something else, a hand closed over Angel's mouth. They squeaked in surprise and David's brows furrowed for a moment. Angel heard Alexis's voice next to their ear.

"Apologies, Lord Shaw." Alexis said. That offered Angel no information other than they had totally butchered David's title. But he hadn't bother to correct them at all. You called multiple titles a lord or lady. All it said was that he was kind of high up. Angel couldn't remember. David dipped his head.

"Lady Alexis. There's nothing you need to apologize for. I'm guessing you're the friend they were talking about?" David's tone sounded different when he was talking to Alexis versus how he spoke to Angel. Almost more... clipped. Alexis laughed as Angel tried to pry her hand off their face but she only dug her finger in more.

"I'm not their friend. My father had them sent to be my bodyguard. Ridiculous, but I suppose a Duke does have enemies." Angel side-eyed Alexis at the unnecessary name drop, their hands at their sides upon giving up on freeing themselves. David just nodded, not offering any verbal addition. The silence dragged on for a few moments before Alexis huffed and shoved a box into Angel's arms, finally letting go of their face. "Make yourself useful and hold those for me. Don't you dare ruin them. And stop dilly-dallying and come with me. I want to go home and make sure the modiste didn't mess up my order." Alexis said, grabbing Angel's forearm and pulling them. They looked back at David and grinned.

"I guess I'll see you around sometime, Lord Shaw!" They said as Alexis pulled them out the door. David watched them leave, staying quiet. He waited for them to enter the carriage before lifting his fingers to his lips for a moment.

"So... who was that?" Arden asked as she rejoined him. David looked at her and sighed.

"No clue. A friend of the Solaires if nothing else. He does have a reputation for taking people in." David said before shrugging. "It doesn't matter. One time interaction, nothing more. Now shall we? I don't want to stay here longer than I must."

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

Alexis turned out to be rather furious that Angel just went up and talked to David if her scolding all the way home was anything to go off of. Which Angel would have been fine with. It was better than the alternative silence. But then she dragged Angel to William to complain about how Angel was rude and improper. And they couldn't stand for that slander. Vincent just laughed when Alexis was done with her verbal tirade, and Angel glanced at him.

"What are you laughing about, mistake?" She asked venomously. (rest written on computer -->) William’s small smile dropped immediately, but Vincent didn’t seem to take any offense. He simply looked at her, still smiling. 

“What’s funny, Alexis, is that you genuinely thought that William would believe that Angel is rude. Improper, maybe. I can see that. But that doesn’t come from a place of malice. They’re just oblivious to the current propriety standards. It’s part of why their company is so enjoyable. They’re refreshing.” Vincent defended with a shrug. Angel sighed as Alexis left, fuming. They sank down in one of the chairs that sat in the study. William leaned forward, steepling his fingers. 

“Did you at least have fun on your excursion, Angel?” He asked, his voice sympathetic. Angel looked at him and shrugged before closing their eyes. They were tired. They left William and Vincent’s conversation fade into background noise as they slowly slipped into sleep. 

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

When they awoke, they were still in the chair but they had a blanket over them. They weren’t sure which of the two men had put the blanket on them but they pushed it off and stretched with a yawn. Naps were a luxury they certainly enjoyed. They exited the office, closing the door softly behind them. The blanket had been folded and sat on the seat cushion of the chair. They wandered down the hall, arms swinging as they walked, humming softly and blissfully ignorant of the way they now tormented someone’s thoughts. 

[max-nico]

I am obsessed with soulmate characters. There is no (light) without (dark) there is no (sun) without (rain) there is no (day) without (night) there is no (joy) without (anger) there is no (red) without (green) there is no (love) without (hate) there is no (defense) without (offense) there is no (tide) without (moon) and these characters can be love interests, best friends, enemies, rivals, I DON'T CARE, but they understand each other like no one else does and where one goes the other follows

And this isn't about just grumpy x sunshine this is about one existing without the other. Characters where if you take one away a part of them gets taken with the other, characters whose lives are significantly altered by the absence of the other, characters who literally already do find each other in different universes.

[hecalledme-jagi]

The Ponderings of a Man In Love

I've had this FanLore for Zen strewing in my brain for a little over a year and finally decided to write it out into a one shot!

Enjoy!

What does it mean to experience first love? 

Zen wondered as he watched you doze off beside him to the sound of a movie you both had forgotten about halfway through. He smiled to himself softly, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over your face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. The comforting gesture caused you to snuggle further into his side, cozy and loved. Treasured and wanted.

Zen often thought about the meaning of first love when he was with you. He always felt a pang of guilt over dating other girls before you, even if you weren't bothered by it. He knew you were his yesterday, today, and tomorrow--his dusk and dawn. His moon and stars--leaving him with the fact that you weren't his first, which felt wrong in every way imaginable. So there he sat wondering, and really pondering, what it meant to experience first love. Had he experienced it before? If so, that idea devastated him, leaving his heart aching, poking, splintering, and desperately wanting your comforting. Hoping all his wondering meant nothing. 

He snuggled in close, soaking in your warmth, soothing his self-inflicted wounds, nuzzling your hair, blinking back the sting of tears.

Slowly he doze off to the sound of your steady breathing, calming his anxiety. Slowly learning to bask in the simple pleasures of a quiet evening. 

His breathing steadied, finding rhythm with your own, and in complete unison, your chests rose and fell. 

He found his peace in his small basement apartment.

But absolutely and entirely, he found his peace here with you.

And in his slumber, there came a dream. Or, more accurately, a nearly forgotten memory.

Zen was younger here, much younger than you knew him now. His hair barely reached past his shoulders, fashioned into something of a mullet. His leather jacket just a size too big, but in a year's time, it would fit him perfectly. And he stood in a place filled with familiarity. His secret mountain hideout. The view was the same as it had always been, and somehow, that comforted the young boy, here now, and the man he would come to be. 

The cold evening air nipped at his cheeks and nose, a gentle breeze passing through his hair with the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Following the scent with his eyes and nose, he found a scene this young boy very well knew but was far from the scene his adult counterpart adored. There stood a girl who simply wasn't you.

Ji-an, a younger, much more boyish Hyun, recognized with an air of giddiness coating his thoughts, and in like manner, she was viewed with rose-tinted glasses. 

He admired her long black hair as it gently swayed in the passing breeze, her sharp and unusually dark eyes staring down at the view he found so much comfort in, reflecting nothing of the setting sun or the city lights flickering on one at a time. And her lips turned in a slight frown with a lit cigarette in hand. Ji-an was a girl made entirely of mysterious beauty, and for a long time, Hyun might've considered her the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. She was in the same gang as Zen, that's how they had met. She was older than him, but only slightly, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was a force to be reconned with, a calm before a storm. Freedom and rebellion. Anger and desperation. Loneliness and devastation. But other than that, she was a total mystery. Hyun never knew more about her than she let him see, and maybe that was part of why he clung to her so helplessly. Or maybe it was because he envied her and how free she seemed to be. Maybe he wanted to live reckless abandoned where he was allowed to be who he wanted to be, the way Ji-an seemed to. Or maybe it was because bad habits always seemed more attractive than good ones at the start.

Ji-an sucked on her cigarette, holding the smoke in her throat until it burned. 

“You know,” she began as she turned to look at Hyun, “I think if we had met before everything hit the fan, I would’ve fallen in love with you for real.”

Hyun watched and admired the rugged elegance she exuded. Marvalling, despite how her words cut him deeply. His heart secretly wondering--when will anyone ever truly love me?

“For one thing, you’re a real looker,” she leaned in and kissed Hyun's lips softly, leaving the faintest taste of cigarette smoke and strawberry lip balm on the tip of his tongue. 

Is that all I'll ever be? A pretty face barely worth loving? Another secret wonder he wouldn't discover until much later.

“You’re not so bad of a guy either,” she reached out, with her free hand and gently played with the fringe that hung over his forehead. “If I wasn’t so damaged, I’d probably be able to appreciate that heart of yours,” she poked his chest playfully and with a tone of self-mockery, sucking another puff of cigarette tar into her lungs. 

“But instead, here I am, giving you cigarettes, beer, and bad memories,” she scoffed. 

Hyun took a step closer to Ji-an, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He peered into her face, hoping to read the meaning in her words by seeing her expression more clearly, but there was nothing he could see. Her eyes continued to stare dispassionately at the scenic view, and not for a moment did she meet his searching gaze, nor did she acknowledge his presence at her side. Instead, her brow furrowed, and irritation fizzled in her vacant eyes.

"We shouldn't have met," she said, tossing her cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out under her boots. 

Hyun felt his heart drop.

Ji-an turned on her heels and walked towards her motorcycle.

"W.. wait! Ji-an, where are you going?" He called.

There was no answer except the loud roar of a motorcycle engine starting.

"Ji-an!"

She paused, looking towards Hyun, with more emotion in her eyes than Hyun had ever seen before, "Get out of here. Become something." 

And that was it. 

She rode off, the rumbling of her motorcycle fading the farther she got. And Hyun could only watch, confused, lost, and entirely too alone for a boy his age.

Zen jolted awake, beads of cold sweat running down his back and his heart dropping into his stomach, leaving his chest feeling hollow and unbearably lonely until he heard you.

"Hyun?" you said, coming back into the living room with a glass of water, "Are you okay?"

He looked at you, and the frenzy in his eyes became calm. A deep breath entered his lungs, and it was exhaled smoothly.

And that's when his wondering all made sense. 

Zen realized it then as his hysteria calmed at the mere sight of you. He knew then that perhaps in all possibility, before you came and before he had forgotten what life was like in your absence, he would've considered Ji-an his first love experience. And in some way, maybe she was. Maybe she was his first love, but that thought didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. Because maybe love was more about changing than firsts and lasts. 

(Although, admittedly, he was perfectly enchanted by the idea that you would be his last. You would hold all his ending chapters, and perhaps, that was far more important than keeping all his opening phrases.)

Ji-an encouraged his flaws but neglected his strengths. He knew now that they were bad for each other, beasts ravenously hungry for love and acceptance. In love with their shared self-pity. Wanting each other because of the addictive nature of cigarettes, loving the nicotine clinging to their clothes and mingling in their mouths. Loving the faint taste of strawberries after every kiss that made the bitter taste of tobacco seem pleasant and sweet. But even still, she inspired his drive for freedom.

And you? You came and captivated him.

You nurtured his strengths and loved his flaws, and for that, he loved you, but as his feelings began to grow, he wanted to be better for you. He wanted to change. So maybe, just maybe, it was for the best that you came at this moment in his life. You came at the point in his life when he still had room to grow but was mature enough to treasure you wholeheartedly. Perhaps now was the best time to love you--not to say it was the only time he could love you, nor was it the perfect time, for he knew that if he had met you ten years ago or ten years from now, he'd be ready to love you precisely and honestly--so now as Zen looks at you, finally finding his moment of lost peace, he realizes that all this wondering about "first love" was for not because all that matters is that he loves you.

Zen nods, gently grabbing at your waist and pulling you in. He rests his forehead against your torso, hugging your waist tightly.

 "Never better, honey~"

˚✧₊⁎𝒥𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎⁎⁺˳✧༚

I do not own any characters, all ownership goes to Cheritz. Thanks for reading!

[kangjaehee]

RFA + sex headcanons

because i am in a Mood. minors do not interact

content under the cut

YOOSUNG.

SUBBY.

like... very. He likes it when u take control.

He likes it when you’re mean to him, when you demand, when you give him no choice but to do as you say if he wants to be a good boy for you.

Humiliation is his shit kinda... he says he doesn’t like it when you highlight how sensitive he is but you, who sees how he trembles at every word you say, you know different.

And on that regard... he’s sensitive. Like, the slightest touch and the right words can crumble him into a whimpering mess within seconds. You’re actually quite shocked. But you absolutely love it.

And he’s loud, too. Doesn’t at all hold back his cries, which sound oh so beautiful to you.

Very into pet play. Likes when you take care of him, likes the element of humiliation that comes with being treated like an animal.

Make him do the gross embarrassing things. Make him eat from a bowl and bark. It gets him off.

Surprisingly, he’s not that much into physical pain or impact, just the control element of it all. He likes it as part of something else, but not in and of itself.

Actually he gets off more in the concept of punishment than the act itself... it urges him on. You think it’s cute. It makes him harder to hear your little dismissive laugh after he whines.

He finishes quite fast but my god does he have stamina. He can go for rounds and rounds that leave you asking for a break.

it turns out all those lolol all nighters he pulled did actually mean something....

Also: the idea of you taking care of him while he’s in the middle of a game??? and not letting him cum until he wins????? GOD it makes him melt.

Very kissy during aftercare. Also very talkative.

You actually have no idea how a person can have this much energy after cumming so many times but hey this is Kim Yoosung we’re talking about.

He doesn’t sext but he does call you to tell you how needy he is. Over the line, you hear him stroke himself to your voice. It makes you lose your mind.

ZEN.

this man has 1 goal and 1 goal only: making you feel good

service top pleasure dom whatever you wanna call it. He just wants you to feel loved and sexy and give you the orgasm of your life.

He likes feeling you. Groping your thigh, manhandling you, kissing you red and raw.

(of course, all while he praises you and tells you how unbelievably gorgeous you are...)

And you absolutely love it. It makes you feel wanted, powerful.

Active sex drive. Y’all do it every other day or so. Not always for long. But it’s an integral part of your relationship. 

He’d do it anywhere. In the kitchen, living room, bathroom, car... He doesn’t need to be comfortable, he just needs his hands and your body to touch.

But don’t misinterpret him, he loves planned affairs too. Especially when you go out of your way to set the mood with lighting and scents and stuff.

LOVES it when you dress up for him. Put on some cute lingerie and sit there, watching as he turns beet red and his breath deepens.

And send him pics. be the biggest tease you can be. Anything relating to you drives him crazy. In his eyes, you’re the sexiest being on the planet, no matter what anyone has told you.

Although keep in mind that he Will warn u about the power u have over him and The Beast potentially coming out at an unwanted moment...

You always tell him to be patient and wait, as if that’s not exactly what you’re after. The Beast always comes out when he gets home though, with him absolutely devouring you in kisses.

Stamina for days... like come on let’s be real he’s a musical theatre performer. He’s Never done.

Not very kinky but has a thing for breeding? creampieing? He wants to claim you, to have something of his inside you.

...And you don’t hate the idea but Babe don’t you think we’re... too young for kids?

Oh my God sorry I didn’t mean it like that... But, hey, don’t you think I’d make a good dad ;)?

You roll your eyes and laugh.

Also he’s not so opposed to the idea of bondage... to have unrestricted access to your body like that (or you to his...)

Surpisingly likes toys. If they make the experience better for you... (and he wants to try them too, though he’s not gonna admit it).

He’s not very keen on being on the receiving end. Doesn’t exactly like not being the one in charge, but he relents every once in a while.

He particularly loves blowjobs. He thinks you look so stupidly sexy while doing them, and the way he flusters and bites his lip... it’s so cute

(One day you’re gonna get him on his knees for you, one day.)

JAEHEE.

Although the tension between you two and the desire you harbored for each other was undeniable, it took you quite a while to get intimate.

When you crossed that threshold, though... Well, let’s just say there was no return.

Lots of kissing. Before, during, and after. She kisses you intensely, with purpose, like she wants to eat you whole. It’s a bit overwhelming. Makes you wonder for how long she’s been saving this.

Quick, does not hesitate. Teases very little, goes straight to it, and has you shaking and remembering nothing but her name in a matter of miniutes.

Stupidly skilled with her hands. They’re good for so many more things other than kneading dough...

Absolutely loves to hear your moans and other sounds. It urges her on. Please be as loud as you possibly can.

The sight of her large honey eyes looking up at you while she’s eating you out has to be one of your favorites.

But while she absolutely adores being the one to take care of you, she actually pefers it the other way around...

And you do too. Because, my god this woman is the cutest being in the universe when she’s flustered. And it’s extremely easy to fluster her.

All it takes is a smile, a kiss, a remark on how wet she is for you... and boom. You’ve reduced her to a mess of whimpers. She’s sensitive and easy to crack.

And it’s funny because all the while you’ll see her trying desperately to hold onto the propriety that she’s so known for. But soon enough it’s gone and she’s cursing and pleading.

You love to tease her because of this. She groans like she hates it but actually doesn’t, actually wants you to do it, draw this out as long as you can. It makes her climax much more satisfying.

She loves when u play with her boobs. Bite them, mark them, grab them, pinch them, maybe slap them if the occasion requires it...

Two words: Praise. Kink.

...Yeah she very obviously has it.

Tell her how well she’s doing no matter what it is that she’s doing. How good she is at taking your fingers down her pretty wet cunt. How well she’s sucking on your clit. It makes her feel like she’s in heaven.

And of course, tell her how she’s a good girl, how she’s your good girl. And watch her fucking dissolve.

(...yeah she’s quite a sub).

She’s into some other stuff... classics like bondage and the occasional spank, more adventurous stuff like wax play.

She likes sexual experimentation. She’d try most things once, just to have the experience, as long as they’re safe, sane, and consensual.

She has quite a bit of stamina and can last long, although she doesn’t exactly like cumming many times in a row or overstimulation in general. Instead, she prefers being edged until she can barely hold it in.

She also cries. It shocked you the first time, but... she cries when cumming.

And after you’re done, she’s always extremely tender and soft, wanting to cling to you for long. You always reassure her, tell her how good she did. Often you like to shower after, or eat something together. Cuddles after sex are mandatory but always remember to get up and do your necessities.

You guys don’t do it often, and don’t like to do it quick. The Jaehee motto is “If you’re going to do anything, do it how it’s supposed to be done” and that applies to sex. But that just makes the encounters you do have all the more special.

JUMIN

for someone whose only experience is having explored his best firend’s body once out of “curiosity” he’s surprisingly very good.

(JUMINV REAL i will die on this hill. i am cheritz actually.)

instinct-driven. doesn’t hesitate. takes you in whole.

composure and propriety thrown out the window, he will make you his. he’s gonna make sure that you forget your own name and only remember his, that you forget everything else but the feeling of his hands on your body and how he pounds inside you.

It’s not hard to get him going. Like at all. Just kiss him deep the way he likes it, grind agaist him, and bam.

He likes to tease verbally, you like grinding against my thigh, love? but not a lot. Eventually his desire to just have you wins him over.

It’s possessive, yes, but it’s his way of showing you just how much he wants you and no one else. You think of it as almost a privilege to be loved so deeply by someone.

Loves marking you, biting into you and then seeing the pretty purple bruises that from, that mark you as irrevocably his. Kisses you a lot during and after. A lot of You’re mines coming out of his mouth.

Also, he loves hearing your moans. And you love hearing his.

It’s actually very funny to tease him, because it’s very easy and he tries to make it subtle. Just push out your shoulder, watch as his face gets red and he swallows, struggling to keep his poise.

And then God save you, because he will not hold back...

You guys do it often. It’s a way for him to destress, so it’s almost a daily affair. A little quickie before bed and after waking up never hurt anyone...

Doesn’t like doing it in public, likes it when it’s just the two of you, though he for sure likes teasing you in public... You’ve given him a handjob in the limo in more than one occasion.

He’s averagely kinky. Likes bondage. Likes calling you his kitten. Likes slapping your ass when you’re both really into it. Not much beyond that. 

The dominant position is comfortable to him, he can let his desires run wild and free, and you like how he exerts his power, how he’s so confident. It almost lights you up.

Though he also has a strange, almost hidden desire for the other side of the coin... he likes being the one with the power taken away, too.

It always oddly attracted him, but he never paid attention to those desires, as they made no sense. But then you suddenly decided to be more dominant one time, and oh boy something awoke in him.

It’s not very easy for him to submit and let go. But it’s extremely liberating once he does so. For a man who has to be thinking and making decisions and bearing more responsibility on his shoulders than any person could imagine, being in a position where he doesn’t have to make any of the decisions is almost cathartic.

He likes being your kitten. Likes the sight of you above him, holding him by a leash and smiling, just as much as he loves the sight of you under him.

Likes impact quite a bit, actually. More on him than on you. It’s a little humiliating to imagine the heir of one of Korea’s biggest conglomerates being spanked raw. But that’s inexplicably a turn-on.

Likes latex a lot. The sight of you on it is pure art.

Also into shibari. Likes the intricacy of it, the protocol, the fact that it’s an art form.

Lot’s of stamina, doesn’t cum easily. Will always make sure you’re the one to finish first or with him. Prefers to cuddle after, sometimes for hours, tightly and in silence or with just a few words exchanged. It’s the act of bodies becoming one, of feeling being not said but expressed in the way his skin contacts with yours.

SEVEN.

Okay so wbk this man is a menace. This applies to sex too.

Most of the time, it’s sloppy and imporvised. Undeliberate, hands everywhere, kisses all over the face. He doesn’t think, and you don’t either. It’s almost funny.

A tease, just because he absolutely loves to see you riled up and begging for it. But, do it a bit aggressively. He’s a bit of a brat. He pushes, and wants you to push back and push harder.

He doesn’t need things at all to be fancy, he can have fun with very little. He’s creative.

But you know what his absolute shit is?? Roleplay.

He does it almost naturally. Has fun with it. Likes the performance element, the not being himself, the play. It’s a way for him to take advantage of all the costumes he’s kept form his agency days.

You’ve found him on more than one occasion just weasring a maid dress and pretending to clean... The indirect was caught and enacted upon.

He’s kind of a jack of all trades. He can top, he can bottom, he can take the strap and rail you until walking is an arduous task.

freak in the streets and the sheets. Truly willing to try anything once.

Pain enjoyer. Likes spanking you, and likes you doing it to him too.

Also likes overstimulation. Edge him, then let him cum, and do not let him stop... just let him go off like that.

Lots and lots of stamina. And also just fucking dies after. Does everything and then five minutes after he’s absolutely fucking spent. To you, it’s shocking. To go from being so loud to being so still...

Likes to kiss during foreplay, but not much during or after. Prefers to tease with words or just let the actions speak for themselves.

One thing about Choi Saeyoung: he’s a romantic partner and extremely entertaining lover. You can trust that stuff will never get repetitive on him. Always switching it up... in all ways possible.

[password-door-lock]

Saeran comes in from the garden just as you’re adding the pasta to the water you’ve set to boil. “Is there anything I can do to help you, my love?” His gentle voice carries across the kitchen as he takes care to shut the door behind him. 

You turn to face your husband. You’re delighted— though not at all surprised— to see the flower in his hand. “You can chop the parsley for me, if you want.” You step away from your cooking to rummage through the dish cupboard for a vase to hold the flower. “What did you bring me?” Though you’re getting better at identifying the flowers Saeran grows in his garden, you still haven’t mastered the art. You certainly don’t know half as much as he does about the flower language and lore surrounding the blooms he cares for. 

“It’s a Dahlia,” Saeran explains, placing the pink flower into the strangely-shaped vase. “It’s got several meanings in the language of flowers, like beauty and confidence. But it also means ‘forever thine,’ and it symbolizes elegance.” 

“It’s lovely,” you beam at him. You don’t need Saeran to explain why he chose this flower in particular for your candlelit dinner. Obviously, it’s going to be a very elegant affair, even if it’s taking place in the same dining room where you and Saeran share all of your meals. “Did you pick out a candle?” 

“Mhm.” Per the tradition that you and Saeran established when you first moved in together, it’s his turn to choose the candle and your turn to cook. 

As Saeran busies himself with searching for the candle, you turn around to add the garlic and oil to your saucepan on the stove. Saeran doesn’t tend to like too much garlic in his food, so you use a bit less than the recipe calls for. It goes without saying that you hold the red pepper flakes. You can add those to your own plate after you’re finished cooking. 

After a few moments, you feel your husband’s arms around you as he envelops you in a soft hug. He sets the candle on the counter beside the stove. “Vanilla cashmere,” he reads the name of the scent. 

“It… smells like a sweater?” You don’t know how that could be possible. 

Saeran chuckles. “It smells like a candle.” 

“Well, I would hope so,” you stir the garlic gently. The kitchen fills with the aroma of the sauce on the stove. “But I trust your judgment. I’m sure it’ll smell great.” 

Saeran releases you from the hug and makes his way to the empty counter on the other side of the stove. “I’ll chop the parsley like you said.” He finds a knife and a cutting board. “Did you wash it already?” 

“No,” you admit, “I was too busy setting the table. Did you see the placemats?” 

“They’re very nice,” Saeran nods, appraising your table setting-skills as he brings the parsley to the sink. “But my love… I got the same ones from the home goods store when I was choosing our candle.” 

“Oh no.” Your hand flies to your mouth to stifle your laughter. “Not again. Maybe we should just go shopping together so we don’t buy any more duplicates.” 

Saeran shrugs, setting to work chopping the parsley. “We think the same even when we’re not together— that means we’re connected.” 

“Okay, sure,” you concede with a laugh, “And I’ll admit, that’s very romantic. But it also means we have two sets of the same placemats, two of the same area rug, and three of the same wall hanging.” Granted, the third identical wall hanging was a gift from Saeyoung, who thought the story behind the first two was hilarious and evidently wanted to join in the fun. 

“I see your point, my darling.” Saeran finds you again, wrapping his arms around you and swaying slightly as you stir the pasta in the pot. It’s just about ready to mix with the sauce. You turn the heat down, reserving some of the water and setting it aside as you maneuver over to the sink. Saeran continues to cling to you, planting gentle kisses on your neck and making you giggle as you locate the strainer. “What flavor ice cream did you get?” 

“Pumpkin spice,” you admit. 

“Already?” Saeran asks, holding the colander for you as you dump out the pasta. 

“The store had it, so I bought it.” You and Saeran shuffle strangely back over to the stove so you can add the pasta and reserved water to the sauce. “What’s so funny?” But you’re laughing too, just because Saeran is laughing. 

“It's just that I had the same idea.” You can hear his grin in his voice. “I got the pumpkin spice ice cream as soon as the store started selling it, but I wanted to surprise you, so I hid it in the downstairs freezer.” 

You howl with laughter. God, the two of you really are the perfect couple. “Next time, let’s just go to the store together.” 

“Of course,” says Saeran, “I love spending time with you.” 

[sky-writes-thingss]

Hey folks, don't sell bookbinded fanfiction. It's really harmfull and writes are starting to take down their fanfiction. It's cool if you want physical versions of your favorite fic but don't go around selling them. DIY them!

[angelyuji]

skirts and promises

707 x reader (most (if not all) dialouge from day 9 phone call) reader wear a skirt but no gendered pronouns

hope you guys enjoy! i know not many of you follow me for mystic messenger stuff but it's summer so im back on the grind :)) no warnings! maybe a little suggestive so yk.... anyways, i'm a 707 girlie till i die thats literally my man i need him so bad it physically hurts me like omg thats my FREAKING MANNNN.... have fun reading!

you glance at seven sitting next to you on the couch, typing at lightening speed on his laptop. you quietly pull out your phone, pretending to look through the chatrooms before dialing his number on the RFA app.

“hello?” seven laughs next to you and you pout at the phone.

“why are you laughing?” you look over at him suspiciously.

“i noticed you glancing at me while pressing on the phone, so i wondered if you were trying to call me. and you really did! why are you so cute? i even love how predictable you are.” you blush at seven’s words. you jump up and run into the kitchen, giggling to yourself. “hmm? why are you running into the kitchen? i can’t see you now!” seven whines as you press yourself against the fridge and slide down to the floor.

“it feels like we’re actually talking on the phone if we can’t see each other!” you speak into the phone, smiling to yourself.

“what?” you peek your head around the corner and watch as seven tilts his head in confusion. “huh…you’re right…then i want to hide too! where should i go?” seven stands up, phone pressed to his ear. “i want to go into the kitchen too!”

“no, no! then there wouldn’t be any point in me hiding!” you whine, and you watch as seven throws his head back and laughs. he plops back onto the couch, arms spread out on the top of the couch. you bite your lip and watch as he relaxes into the couch.

seven sighs, “…i miss you when you disappear from my sight. i want to be right beside you… always.” a warm silence fills the apartment. you feel your heart beat faster. you turn your head back to face the cabinets across from you.

“i… i feel the same.” you whisper, afraid to disturb the feeling in the air.

seven’s voice quiets as he talks into the phone, “you know, it’s good to laugh. i mean, if we can manage to laugh in this situation, what other miracle can we hope for?” you hum, letting him continue. “i think this is what suits us. that no matter what happens, we can look at each other and laugh.” he stops talking and you wait. “promise me… promise me that from now on, we’ll look at each other, smile, and get through whatever comes.”

“i promise.” you smile.

seven stands up and walks towards the kitchen, stopping at the entry. “and if we get tired in the process… our robot can help us laugh.”

“i want to make you smile too.” you giggle, clutching the phone to your chest.

“then poke your head out!” you peek your head out, seven grabs your legs, and pulls. you scream and he cackles as you lay flat on the floor. he sits on his knees, clutching his sides. you raise yourself up onto your elbows and smile. “why are you smiling? you just looked into my eyes!”

“i don’t know, i guess i just like you a lot.” you lay back down, covering your face as you feel a blush creep back up your face.

seven laughs, pulling you closer. “do you like me that much?” he whispers and holds himself over you. one hand cups your face, “don’t pout, i like you too.” he moves back to his knees with a huff. “god, i like you so much… i want to tease you, i want to watch your cute little face.”

you sit up and hit his arm, feeling your face burn. “you’re so annoying.”

seven laughs harder, “i’m so happy we can manage to play in such a small apartment.”

“interesting you say that when you didn’t even want to be near me earlier.” you huff and cross your arms.

seven grabs your hand, “ahh, just forget about that now. what’s important is the present, and the future we’ll create… together.” you smile, crossing your fingers together. “oh, but there’s a problem right now.”

“huh? what problem?” your eyes widen in panic.

“you do realize that you’re pretty defenseless, right?” seven lets go of your hand to cup your face once more. “i’m not just a guy that types away at a laptop. i’m really, really trying hard to hold back right now.” his thumb brushes against your lips and you hold your breath. you watch as his eyes drift to your lips. his face gets close and you close your eyes. you feel as if time stops, but he pauses, you can feel his breath on your lips. all of a sudden, you hear a loud laugh, you open your eyes and seven’s on the floor once more.

you move closer to him and whack his arm, “you are such a jerk, seven.”

you flop back onto the floor, annoyance turning to laughter. seven sits back onto the floor, crisscross. “ahh, don’t worry, (y/n). i’m super good at holding it in. speaking of, can’t you- can’t you pull down your skirt a little. i think- i think it kind of crawled up when you were laughing.” his eyes drift to your thighs. you look down and notice that your skirt had ridden up, exposing more of your thighs.

you smile, innocently, “what if i don’t want to? what if i don’t want to listen to you?” you use a finger to slowly pull your skirt up higher. seven’s hands clasp yours, stopping you from going further.

his eyes were wide and you tilt your head, noticing how wide his pupils are. “you don’t want to? please… i feel like my nose is gonna start bleeding if you keep going like this… i’m sure of it.” you pull one side of your sweater down below your shoulder, smiling slightly. seven’s breathing gets heavy. “god… i don’t think- i can’t-” seven shoots up, surprising you. “i need to go work out a bit. i just want to work out of my body too, not just my brain all the time.” you get up with him. “maybe- maybe a cold shower too…” he mumbles, brushing his hand through his hair.

“wait- seven-” you grab his arm.

he looks back at you with a weird expression. “and uh… please be careful of your skirt. i’m sorry.” you bite your lip and pout.

“fine… i guess i should hang up then and help you.” you grab your phone and seven grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him.

“huh? help me? wait- why- why are you trying to hang up? not yet!”

[xelasrecords]

Secrets and Sacrifices

Han Jumin x Reader

NSFW

Jumin and you make sacrifices for the RFA. You don't know how much more you can take, but Jumin does not plan to let you out of his sight.

Secret Ending AU where the secrets drag on and relationships are more complicated.

TW: depression, self-harm, controlling behaviour

Words: 2.8k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Your friends are laughing around you. The restaurant lighting has dimmed, and the lambent glow from the candle on the table illuminates their happy faces. All of you are tucked into a padded leather sofa in the corner, the live music playing behind you.

You echo their laughter. It's the appropriate response.

Seven is sharing an outrageous tale, and Yoosung is his enraptured audience, constantly nodding and asking follow-up questions. Zen chides him for believing everything Seven says but still laughs along. Beside you, Jaehee reaches over you and sets the empty plates aside in anticipation of Seven's dramatic gestures.

Jumin is impervious to the racket. He swirls his wine and watches the advertising screen outside the window, the billboard flashing bright in the evening. His grey eyes are glazed, unfocused. He's missing V, you're sure. That's all he does, aside from worrying about you. Waits for V to contact him.

Languidly, you lay your head against the cushion. This should be a pleasant dinner, but there's a damper placed on your emotion valve. You've lost the means to conjure the excitement you once felt. The knowledge of missing them is not the same as feeling it.

You look down at the corduroy skirt that has ridden up to your waist, exposing more than half of your thighs. You dig your nails into them. Five seconds and release. Little scythes are imprinted on your skin. There, a feeling. You swipe your fingers through the indents with dull fascination.

Today is one of the rare days when you are cleared to venture outside without compromising security, but showing up here feels like a farce. You're playing puppet to prove that you're fine before being corralled back to Rika’s sterile shoebox apartment.

Jumin and Seven's dutiful little puppet, that's what you are.

When you glance up, you can feel the weight of Jumin's attention on you, intense gaze shifting from your lap to your neutral face.

You don't feel guilty. He will find out anyway.

You drag your skirt down and straighten your posture, the band sitting around your hips again.

"Is everything well?" Across from you, Jumin's smooth baritone voice rises above the peals of laughter and the increasingly loud music.

The chatter halts as your friends turn to you with a concerned expression.

You crack a smile. "I'm all right. Just tired." Jaehee squeezes your hand, and you pat hers with reassurance. The friendship you foster with this little group is built on thin ice, and long cracks have been crawling across the surface. "Let's go back, I have work tomorrow. So do all of you."

Seven's shrewd eyes flash at you before he grins widely at the others. "Except for Yoosung!" He pokes Yoosung's side, which earns him a light punch on his shoulder.

"A wise decision," Jumin says. "Everyone should get some rest."

"Easy for you to say." Zen glares at him. "I don't think I can sleep a wink tonight. My skin is ruined from all my lost beauty sleep." He sighs and turns to Seven. "Is there no progress on V's secret files?"

Seven pouts and shakes his head. "I'm still trying to break through the encryption walls, but Jumin can give me Elly to boost my motivation!"

Zen instantly sneezes and curses while Jaehee hurries to pass him a napkin.

An agent with a lifetime of diversion training. You hold back a scoff.

Jumin, Seven, and you are only shrouding yourselves with more secrets because you are determined to reach the same goal: Don't let harm come to the RFA. Don't share any information unless it's crucial. Not even Jaehee. Not yet. Let them live in the almost idyllic bubble as long as they can.

For a split second, Jumin seems as if he's about to scold Seven for the deliberate mispronunciation of his cat's name, but he shakes his head and calls for the bill instead.

Jumin has changed. You wonder how much he has to pay in unravelling V's secrets. If selling his peace is worth the members' peace. But you know what answer he would give. It has never been a matter of choosing for him. He will always protect the RFA.

He will always protect you.

Along with the others, you file out of the restaurant through its gilded swinging doors. Jumin immediately arranges their transport home and reminds them to inform their arrival in the chatroom. You pretend not to see Seven exchanging a calculating look with Jumin, his mask briefly slipping. You wait for your turn, but it never comes.

You have anticipated that, though.

Jumin places his hand on your lower back, his dark hair in slight disarray from the wind. You shiver. His touch still has the power to hold you together just as it has the strength to pull you apart. "Driver Kim is already on his way. You won't have to wait for long."

You nod and stare out the parking lot. Surveillance disguised as an act of chivalry. Since Seven stopped trusting V's contingency plans and revealed your address to the members, he and Jumin have worked together to keep you safe as you help them clean up the mess V left behind.

A familiar black car pulls up before you, and Jumin holds the backseat door open. You climb in, greeting Driver Kim before giving him your address. Jumin enters after and sits so close beside you that his trousers brush against your bare leg.

You press your thigh against him a little more.

Jumin gently caresses your knee, but there's a frown on his face. "Your address is already saved in my car navigation. Did you forget that?"

You have honestly forgotten. Thoughts slip around you these days. Try as you may to capture them, it's as if you have to squint through a lattice window to make out the memory fragments and piece them together. You get away with it most of the time, the fact that you struggle to pay attention.

But Jumin always pays too close attention to you.

"I remember now." You shrug.

Jumin isn't inclined to drop the matter. "I have picked you up more than once. If there's any problem with your memories, you should get it checked out. I will arrange a doctor's appointment for you."

"You're blowing things out of proportion."

The car starts to move. Driver Kim has polished his pretence of not hearing your conversation. He taps the radio screen, and a soft murmur floats through the small space.

Jumin's hand on your knee tightens into a grip, but not firm enough to hurt. "You have been forgetting a lot of things."

"Not when they're important," you say. "I won't compromise our mission, so lay off me. I can forget things. I'm human." You huff out a tired sigh. "Don't you have more things to worry about?"

His voice is constricted. "Do not presume other matters are more important than you."

"V?"

He draws his hand into his lap. "Both of you are of equal importance."

You stare out the window, yellow street lamps and glass towers sweeping past you. You're going back to a place that makes you want to scratch your skin loose. Your freedom is restricted to the apartment and wherever an RFA member accompanies you.

"I've watched the romantic drama you recommended," Jumin says after a few moments. "You're right, I did like it. It's curious how the man is always there to catch the woman when she falls. The distance and his human speed should've made it impossible."

At another time, you would have smiled at his endearing fascination and proclivity to pick apart a mystery until he understood it inside out. Now you glance at him without emotion. "Dramas operate by their own logic."

Jumin tries for a smile. "Nevertheless, it was sufficient entertainment to unwind after work. I must thank you for that."

"I'm glad it helped."

He shifts his body towards you. "How would you feel if I attempted to catch you when you fell?"

You purse your lips. "I won't fall around you."

"But if you do?"

You try to ponder over it, but it's like trying to break through rough currents that threaten to swallow you. The effort is exhausting. "You might not be fast enough," you say. "You're not armed with magical drama abilities."

"Then being there with you at all times would solve it." There's a hint of finality in Jumin's tone.

Of course.

You rest your head against the window, the glass cold against your temple. "That sounds impractical."

"It is better than watching the people I love lose themselves because they're too stubborn to ask for help."

Your lips tug up in the tiniest smirk. "Interesting. Han Jumin feels more than me. I never thought this day would come."

You glimpse at him, but he doesn't seem offended. How disappointing. You're right at the centre where his emotions are concentrated. You thought that would have included his anger.

"I would say it's concerning," Jumin says. "I know how that emptiness feels. If what you're experiencing is worse than that—"

"You'll force me to get treatment?"

His hands curl into a fist in his lap. "I'm not fond of coercion, but if you pose a danger to yourself, then I will do what I must."

You can't keep the irritation out of your voice. "Of course. Thank you for caring."

"I always care." Jumin's fingers hover near your cheek, and you think he's going to touch you, and you wait for him to—but he drops it to his side.

"And look how it ruins you."

Jumin dips his chin sharply. The shadow in the car obscures his expression, but you can make out the lines of exhaustion in the corner of his eyes. There is only so much he can put up with before it eats at him, always bracing for tragedy to befall everyone around him.

You're not supposed to be on the list of the people he wants to protect.

"Loving you doesn't ruin me. It's the best emotion I have ever felt." He runs his hand up your arm and pauses at the slope of your shoulder. "So let me care for you. Don't go. Don't go as far as V has."

You can't wrap your head around the driving force behind Jumin's obsession for your survival. You don't even care as much. It probably has something to do with how you can see right through him. He's attached to the validation you can offer him. You make him feel like a person. You're the only one who sees him as he is, now he can't let you go.

"V is your closest friend. He'll come back to you eventually."

"He won't," Jumin states flatly. "Rika is all he sees, and his range of vision has pathetically narrowed. You needn't bother with consolations. I know where my place is on his priority list."

Pressure burgeons within you like a fist thrusting into your ribcage and twisting your lungs. You hold on to the sensation, thankful to still be able to feel certain pains for Jumin. You wind your hand around his tie and press your lips somberly against his. He tastes of matured grapes and sweet memories long gone.

You have loved him until it ruined you too.

Jumin hooks his arm around your waist and pushes you against the car door, his other hand moving around the back of your head to soften the blow. His fingers trace down your ear and jaw before tilting your chin up and deepening the kiss.

His hand slides up the back of your thigh and toys with the lining of your panties. You hitch your leg up, allowing him to slide between you as he presses himself harder against you, his breathing harsh against your parted lips.

You can feel his need for you between your legs and you wish to satiate him, but it's as though your limbs and nerves are molten lead. You can burn him up with a single touch and you do it without feeling anything.

You want him, but the desire is cerebral.

Jumin pauses and pulls away when he notices your lack of fervour. He opens his mouth to apologise, but you grab his arms, feeling the lean muscles beneath the suit, and shake your head.

Not your fault.

He searches your face, then nods. This has happened before.

You don't know how you reached this point. You keep losing things that you can't afford to lose and you're tired of it. Your freedom, your fundamental need for Jumin. You don't know how to protect your senses from atrophying.

He smooths down your crumpled hair and blouse, murmuring, "I had expressed my wish not to be consoled, yet you still went against me."

"This is the only time I don't have to obey you."

Jumin stills. "I am not trying to restrict you."

"So if I ask you to stop monitoring my schedule and chaperoning me, either by yourself or someone you personally approve of, would you?"

He brushes your swollen lips with his thumb. "Can you promise me you won't get yourself killed if I decrease the security?"

"I promise." You straighten his tie to align it with the buttons and trail your fingers up his chest.

Jumin seems to consider it before shaking his head and chuckling. "You're a good liar."

You grip the lapels of his suit. "It's not up to me if the hacker decides to attack me."

"But you won't put up a fight either."

You let your hands fall and avert your gaze to the blur of passing cars behind him.

Jumin sighs. "It's only until we dissolve Mint Eye and you are safe from the threats that brought you here. Perhaps you would be happier and less inclined to throw self-preservation to the wind."

You clench your jaw and dig your nails into your thighs. Your life is getting smaller and smaller each day. There will always be another condition from him as your condition gets worse. Jumin will not stop. As long as the fight against Mint Eye goes on, you will always be under his extreme surveillance.

Jumin means well, you know it. You wouldn't have survived this long if he and Seven didn't force you to.

You carve your nails in with all your strength, clawing until they break your skin, but there's no blood. It's always harder when you mean to do it.

You don't want to be fixed all the time. Sometimes you want to shatter into pieces. Sometimes you feel safer when you're small.

"I can't breathe, Jumin," you say, desperation seeping into your voice.

He flicks his eyes down and wraps his hand around your wrists in an instant. "Stop doing that. Stop hurting yourself."

"This?" You laugh. "It's nothing more than you and Seven have been doing to me. I've always been willing to help you two with your plans, however immoral they are. I'd do them myself even without you. But I never gave you permission to track me like a prisoner."

His gaze turns hard. "You wouldn't let me if I asked."

"I'm the unhappiest I've ever been and you don't even care." You try to pull your hands away, but he won't budge. "You don't want me to be happy."

 "I deeply apologise. I never mean to cause you pain." His face contorts with guilt. "Please hold on a little longer. It will be over soon. V will provide us with an explanation, and things will return to how they were."

"You're naïve if you think it's that easy. This is not your drama with a fairytale happy ending."

"If I don't harbour hope in everyone's stead, what chance do we have in surviving?" Jumin says, and lets out a ragged breath. "We will get through this catastrophe. You can depend on me if you can't find the strength to go on. Just—stay with me. Do not leave."

You think you should cry. You can feel an emotion bubbling, blistering but never quite reaching its boiling point. It's frustrating. Breaking down under pressure is one of the most human things to do, yet the most you can muster is observational agitation.

Love changes things. He loves you and you're paying the price for it. 

You look at him with deadened eyes. "You have never made leaving possible, Jumin."

"Good," Jumin says, his voice terse. He doesn't let go of your wrists.

You sink into your seat, deep into the corner where the lights do not reach. There is a kind of loneliness that has grown into a corporeal shadow inside the cavity of you.

You yearn to make its existence known to someone.

You have no one to tell.

-

Footnotes:

I couldn't flesh these out due to fic length, but I want to get them out there anyway: 1) Reader isn't in therapy because Jumin and Seven aren't well-versed in mental health and Jumin thinks he's enough to fix her for now. She just doesn't care. 2) Jaehee is excluded from the secret subgroup because reader takes over her role in task execution and more.

I... didn't mean to write a dark Jumin or include canon plot elements. I feel like my fics lately are a "how dark can I make this" challenge. The initial idea was just Jumin being there for a lonely reader and it'd be wholesome and comforting, but it got worse through each draft. It had been satisfying to write.

I'd hoped my first fic with the big cast would be one where everyone's personalities are prominent, but apparently, I had to write it from a depressed reader's POV so everything is warped and muted instead. Maybe next time.

There's a paragraph that I reworked from my now inactive IG writing account c: I guess it's not plagiarism if you're copying yourself?

I like it when my MCs are a lil manipulative xoxo

The header concept is Jumin's obsessive surveillance, shown through the clear box tracking his eyes while the rest is blurred, and the toxic intimacy of how Jumin is the one who yearns more but they're separated by a thin yet impenetrable barrier. I was so happy that this clip fits my vision, with an Asian man at that! It's hard to find good free stock footage of Asians. And tap the GIF for better quality.

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

[siconetribal]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💚

I have been sitting on this for so long because I just couldn't decide! (Does it matter if they're WiP?) Limiting to five is going to be tough, since I like most of my body of work. I'm working on two currently, so I guess I'll pick a mix of fandoms? Alas, without further ado and in no special order, here is my list (all links lead to chapter 1/one shot. Any and all others can be found in my master post):

Put it on My Tab (Jason Todd)

Summary: Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed? A/N: This was an idea I had sitting in my head that was planned to a few parts, now it's multiple chapters. I'm glad it's well received, I was super nervous people wouldn't like how I depicted Jason.

Coffee Shop (Ryo Bakura)

Summary: The morning rush waits for no one, and that first hit of caffeine is a must! But what can you do when you're stuck behind someone who can't settle on an order?! A/N: I know there's always a lot of Yami Bakura fics, so I wanted to a give a little shout-out to the host himself, Ryo Bakura.

Revenge (Rika)

Summary: How could her friends abandon her, forsake the paradise she had awaiting them? What could she do to right these wrongs? A/N: Please read TW. A Mystic Messenger fic written from the perspective of the antagonist. My first time ever writing one, and I'm still fairly proud of it.

Relaxing Tea (Satsuki Kitaoji)

Summary: On a street lined with fancy boutiques, there stood a quaint little place on the corner. During the day it remained closed, but come around 4 PM, the lights were on and the open sign sat in the window. Unassuming yet inviting, it attracted the people in need of something. A something that the busy world was unable to give. One evening on the way back from a busy night, a particular man stood at its threshold. Something beckoned him here. A/N: One of my first Voltage fics that I've written, and possibly one of the first fics I've ever written on here.

Plus One (Loki)

Summary: Loki debuts with the Avengers, and all the news and media outlets are dying for the latest scoop. How does one actually get the attention of a prince who once was only seen as a god from lore? A/N: This one didn't get a lot of love, which kinda hurt since I really liked it.

THIS TOOK LONGER THAN IT NEEDED TO, STILL! I battled with a fifth option, trying not to repeat any fandoms!

[issacballsac]

Wishes to Unknown

Unknown/Saeran Choi

Male Reader

Joining the RFA had been nothing short of a fever dream to you

To anyone with an ounce of sanity even

So the <<Hi!>> of the very person responsible for your forceful recruitment into this organisation wasn’t exactly welcomed

<<Long time no see. We chatted before, remember?>>

With reluctant annoyance you did the very thing that got you in trouble at the start, responding.

<<Yep, what exactly are you messaging me for now?>>

<<Thanks to your help back then, I could preform my task without trouble.>>

<<Glad I could help🫂; you wouldn’t happen to be telling me what said task is/was?>>

<<Anyways. I told you I’m studying abroad, remember? But if you don’t it can’t be helped.>>

<<Yes I understand but why should I care about any of this?>>

<<Well—um…I’ll be back in Korea today. Remember I told you I’ll make it up to you if you help me? :)>>

<<So…>>

<<I’m not sure if I’m liking where this is going..>>

<<Do you have time today? Why don’t you join me to see the sky tonight? I have what I like to call a haven of sorts where I come whenever I visit Korea.>>

<<I’d love to go there with you.>>

<<Honestly, today is my birthday and you’re the only one who could properly congratulate it for me.>>

<<I promise you won’t regret it.>>

<<You have such a way with words—I almost forgot what happened last time you invited me to a mysterious location.>>

<<Look—>>

<<If you come to me. I’ll make it a VERY pleasant day for you. I even made you a crown with red roses. :)>>

<<Still not convinced dude. Bc if I get added to another group chat after this I will delete this app.>>

<<Okay ok; I’ll bring ice cream, Yk with summer it’s getting hot. We can also watch popular films? I’ll get everything ready I promise.>>

<<Youll join me, won’t you? I’ll be waiting for you.>>

UNKNOWN has left the chatroom

Every instinct in your body spiritual and physical told you not to go to the location sent to your phone.

BUT

Curiosity couldn’t kill the cat twice, could it?

Simply walking out of the apartment with your current attire as the event wasn’t that special to you; you began your search of the park.

The park was sparsely populated from the locator position the greatly mysterious UNKNOWN had graciously granted you

None matched the original picture he sent all those weeks ago

“Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair, green eyes. Brown hair and green eyes.” You repeated as if it were a mantra looking over the same groups of people.

“Looking for me, my prince?”

“Indeed I was my dearest catfish. That’s obviously not you in the pictures.”

Almost unbothered by the comment he maintained eye contact, “Yes, well my identity is somewhat of a secret. Please try to understand, I can’t simply go throwing my image everywhere.”

“Sure sure. Anyways, happy birthday…Unknown? Got a name I can call you?”

“I’m a bit reluctant to say—no, it should be fine. Call me..”

“Shall I call you my stalking prince?”

His eyebrows furrowed towards his eyes, “If you’ll let me finish.”

“Yeah yeah, go ahead.”

Firmly clearing his throat, “It’s Saeran. But don’t go yelling it everywhere and definitely not to the RFA.”

“I won’t, I promise. But I really like your name, it’s nice to actually learn something about you.”

“Well you already know a lot. I’m not the guy from the photo, I hacked your phone on certain occasions, I like ice cream, and now you even know my name.”

“Yes we could almost get married with how much I know about you.”

“Though you are beautiful if you don’t mind the compliment. You’re not such a weirdo either, even if you did trick me into joining a strange charity.”

“Yes you make me sound SO amazing and dreamy.”

Taking a bite from out of his ice cream cone, “Yes, because you are, and I am totally not speaking out of my ass when I say this.”

“Enough of the chatting, I was promise a nice a pleasant day, so, show the way.”

Snickering slightly, Saeran stopped himself from reaching for you hand and opted for a follow-the-leader route.

On a secluded hill, a blanket lay bare with a singular unbranded laptop at the centre. A brown woven basket sat not far from the main attraction.

“Birthday picnic?”

He sat down calmly on the blanket. Lightly yet rapidly clicking on the keys of the keyboard.

The soft white light beamed against his already pale face, “Any suggestions for a movie?”

“I thought we were starting gazing.”

He quirked a brow at your remark.

“The constellation I want to see isn’t out yet. In the meantime won’t you accompany me?”

A small rotation of movies was shown before you both ultimately decided to just wait.

“Sae look! Isn’t that the constellation you wanted to see?”

His eyes snapped up as the stars aligned perfectly. A small smile was rapidly tugging at his face. “Sae?”

“A—sorry, it was just shorter.”

“I don’t mind it.”

Readjusting yourself on the mat, you took another spoonful of the mass amount of mint ice cream your newly acquired partner brought.

“Hey, so do you like—wish on the constellations? Or is it just the individual stars?”

“I’d call you stupid, but, I don’t know myself.”

“Here. I’ll wish you another happy birthday for each one of the stars in the constellation.”

“That’s a lot of stars you know?”

“I have all night and tomorrow morning.”

An actual laugh escaped from him, a laugh that had been held in for years it seemed. A pure and genuine expression.

“You know…there are better ice cream flavours than mint.”

“Don’t ruin my birthday. Please.”

This was based off of his 2019 birthday event

@viernane

[yoosungisbabie]

on call - day one

welcome to Jumin Week 2023! I know I've been gone for a long time, but this event always manages to bring me back. I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you enjoy all the works that will be shared during this wonderful week!

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: T - for teen and up audiences

prompt: free day!

warnings: female pronouns used for mc/reader ♡

word count: 3,266

ao3 link

“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly. “What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question. She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert. “Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Jumin slowly twisted his pen closed, placing it back in the pen cup next to his monitor. He let his eyes scan over his paperwork and the correspondence pulled up on his computer, assessing whether or not he could consider his task done.

Just as he decided he was satisfied with the outcome, his phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. It was rare that clients or business partners dialed his personal phone during working hours, so he reached into his suit’s inner pocket out of curiosity.

Flipping it over in his hand, he felt his eyebrows raise at the caller ID. His fingers twitched, and he hesitated for a brief moment before he accepted the call.

“Hello, MC. I’m at my office, but I have a moment to take your call,” he said, unable to help the small smile that began to spread across his lips.

“Hi, Jumin,” she sighed, sounding less than pleased. His anticipation to hear her voice chilled into concern, his posture tightening minutely.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, disregarding any questions in his mind about why he felt so panicked.

“Oh, nothing!” she replied quickly, pausing and letting out another breath. “I just, um…” She pulled the phone away from her face to clear her throat.

“I need help with…something,” she spoke slowly, sounding very unsure. The whole situation had him unsettled, and he immediately stood from his chair, placing a steadying hand on his desk.

“What is it?” he wondered sternly, running through a mental checklist of personnel he trusted.

“I forgot something in my apartment, and I…can’t get it,” she continued, her voice strained.

“Are you injured? You sound like you are in pain,” he said worriedly, pressing his lips together as his mind raced.

“No, I’m fine, but um,” she clarified, calming him only slightly. “I forgot my towel.”

“No problem. I can send someone over immediately,” he said, pushing his chair aside and beginning towards his office door. “What instructions would you like me to give them?”

“No, you don’t have to— I mean,” she started, taking a deep breath. Jumin hesitated where he stood, waiting for her to continue.

“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly.

“What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question.

She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert.

“Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.

“And you’re in a first-floor apartment,” he continued quietly, pushing his hair from his forehead. He tried to ignore the way his cheeks had warmed or the distracting route his mind was taking.

“Right, and I just need someone to grab my towel or even some clothes,” she sighed, sounding relieved that someone finally understood her predicament.

“Please send me your address. I will be there within 15 minutes,” he said decidedly, buttoning his jacket closed with one hand and pulling open his office door.

“What? Jumin, you don’t personally have to come, I just thought—“

“Nonsense. There are little to no staff members I would trust with this task,” he said as if his assistance was the only solution to her problem. In actuality, there were many more solutions that didn’t interrupt his workday, and he knew it.

“I suppose,” she relented, and he exhaled with finality, motioning to Jaehee as he strode past her.

“Okay, um. My towel! It’s in the laundry basket on the couch in the living room. I think,” MC said, and he made a mental note as he stepped into the elevator.

“And is your apartment door unlocked?” he wondered, hoping that her unprecedented entrance into the RFA had taught her even a little about prioritizing her safety.

“Oh. No…” she muttered, and he couldn’t hold back a crooked smile. Imagining her befuddled face brought only one word to mind. Cute.

“I’ll call a locksmith to meet me at your apartment,” he smiled, hearing her inhale quickly just before he pulled his phone away from his ear to multitask.

“No, it’s okay! I have a hidden key,” she provided, making his eyebrows furrow.

“I would suggest that you remove that in the future, but surprisingly, it will solve some of our problems today,” he said after a moment of thought. Unexpectedly, she cursed quietly, making Jumin pause as the elevator doors opened.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sighed. Jumin placed a hand against the door of the elevator, holding it open for a moment longer while he listened.

“Why?” he wondered, glancing around the parking garage until he watched Driver Kim pull forward to where he stood.

“I did something as dumb as forgetting my towel, and you’re going through all of this just to help,” she muttered. He could hear the way her lips were pouted through the phone, and it made him all the more anxious to render aid and arrive to her quickly.

“Humans can be very forgetful,” he offered, pulling open the car door and sliding in smoothly. He pulled his phone away from his face to put it on speaker, copying her address from their private message thread and forwarding it to Driver Kim. Putting his phone back up to his ear, he continued.

“I once forgot a client's date of birth during a business meeting and could have made them extremely uncomfortable,” he began, pulling his seatbelt over his lap and buckling it as the car pulled away.

“Luckily, I remembered not a moment too soon that they were born on August the 7th, and I redeemed myself. Not that they knew I had forgotten,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he heard her begin to laugh.

“I didn’t realize I was being funny,” he said, more to himself than to her. She caught her breath, giggling once more before responding.

“Thank you for cheering me up, Jumin,” she said warmly, making him reevaluate what he had said to her. Was that what he’d done?

“I’ll let you go now, but please arrive safely,” she said before he could reply, and he cleared his throat, nodding to himself.

“I will,” he agreed, hearing her hum in contentment.

“And thank you, again,” she breathed, chuckling lightly. He hesitated, fighting the inclination to answer her gratitude with dismissal, wanting to say that it was nothing. It started a strange sensation in his chest as he realized it wasn’t that he didn’t mind helping, but that he wanted to.

“I’ll be there soon,” was all he could say in reply, slightly disappointed in himself when he hung up instead of waiting for her to say her final goodbye.

The car ride there was all too short and much too long as he drowned in his own thoughts. Was he the first person she had called? Did this kind of thing happen often? What other things was she forgetful about? Who else would she have reached out to if he were unavailable?

Once they arrived and he stepped foot outside of his vehicle, Jumin tried to keep his thoughts clinical, focusing on the task at hand and not the way it was making him feel.

He entered the lobby with one of his security guards, glancing at the attendants behind the desk briefly and nodding. They gaped at him in silence as he walked to the elevator.

Once they arrived on her floor, Jumin instructed his guard to wait for him by the elevator doors. He then felt his heart begin to beat in a way he wasn’t quite familiar with. It only persisted as he approached her apartment, his chest feeling tight and warm in an almost uncomfortable way.

He double-checked the number on the door just above the peephole, pausing when he realized that she hadn’t told him where her hidden key was. Scanning the area, he hesitantly reached to feel along the top of the doorway and tapped lightly on the dusty surface until he bumped the key with his fingers. Pulling it down to eyesight, he frowned, wondering why she would put herself in danger in such a way.

He knocked thrice, pausing briefly before pushing the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. Pressing his lips together in anticipation, he slowly opened the door.

“Please excuse me,” he spoke softly, stepping inside and taking the key from the lock. He closed the door behind himself, looking around quickly.

Her apartment wasn’t very large, but it was decorated in a way that confirmed without a doubt that she indeed lived there. It felt refreshing, with colors that reminded him of her and open spaces, and he could see little touches that were undoubtedly hers. He felt some of the tension in his chest fade, placing the key down on the table near the door and thinking of all the security measures he would like to talk with her about.

Looking down, he instinctively began taking his shoes off. Once he had, he glanced around for a pair of extra slippers for him to use, finding only a small pair of pink, flowery ones. He slipped them on, feeling the back ends hit his heels and wondering if he should just continue in his socks. Feeling strangely apprehensive, he stepped further into her apartment in her slippers, reminding himself of the task at hand.

“MC?” he called out, scanning the apartment to find where she could be. He noticed a closed door as he stepped through to her living area, nearly bumping into the back of her couch. Remembering her instructions, he looked down to see a basket overflowing with clean laundry sitting on the couch. He paused, seeing undergarments in the basket as well as towels and clothes. As carefully as he could, he picked out a blue towel, managing to lift it from the basket without disturbing anything else.

He folded the bath towel over his arm, glancing back to the door where he thought he was hearing movement from.

“MC? It’s Jumin,” he said, wondering why his jaw felt stiff.

“Jumin?” she called out from behind the door, making his eyes widen. He forced himself to take another step forward, clearing his throat.

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, stopping a few paces from the door.

“Thank goodness,” he heard her sigh. His relief quickly turned into gripping tension when the doorknob began to turn. His eyes widened briefly before he shut them tight, turning his head and making sure he still had the towel.

“I have your towel here,” he spoke, his voice coming out strained. He heard the door open, feeling the humidity from the shower rush out to meet him.

“Thank you so much, Jumin,” she said, a smile of relief evident in her voice. He couldn’t reply just yet, taking the towel and handing it out toward her voice. When he extended his arm fully, his hand bumped hers, making his eyes fly open before he could even think.

Luckily, it was only her forearm that was extended past the door. She felt around blindly until she found the towel, his hand lingering in the empty air as he watched her close the door.

“I really appreciate it,” she reiterated, her voice muffled. “I can’t thank you enough, really. I feel so bad that you came all the way here.” He composed himself again, picking a small, blue string from his sleeve with shaky hands.

“It’s no bother at all,” he said loudly enough for her to hear. “Is there anything else you need while I’m here?” he found himself asking, his hands tensing at the thought of making her uncomfortable or overstaying his welcome.

“Oh no, not at all,” she answered quickly, her voice moving farther from the door.

“Alright, then I’ll be on my way,” he said, sparing another glance at the door before starting towards the exit.

“Jumin!” she called, startling him. He rushed back over to the door, his hand lingering just above the metal of the doorknob.

“Yes? What is it?” he pressed, resting his other hand against the wood of the door.

“Do you have time to stay?” she wondered, surprising him so fully that he was silent for a moment.

“Stay?” was all he could get out, his mind racing much too quickly.

“I haven’t seen you since the party, so if you would give me just a minute to get dressed?” she asked, making his eyebrows furrow together. She just wanted to see him?

“O-of course,” he nodded, backing away from the door just a bit.

“Unless you’re busy?” she prompted.

“I have time,” he responded quickly, feeling his thoughts bouncing around uncontrollably.

“Okay! Please make yourself at home,” she said, her smile present in his mind as she spoke.

Jumin stepped fully away from the door, ignoring the way his phone began to buzz more and more often in his pocket.

He took another look around, glancing at the large windows that looked out over the courtyard of the apartment complex. After a moment, he reached up and pulled just the sheer curtains closed, hoping that would make her feel more at ease.

He was drawn towards her television that was mounted on the wall, seeing a plethora of framed pictures on the console beneath it. Scanning each one, he stopped when he landed on the group photo of the RFA that had been taken at the party. It had taken a few minutes to get everyone in one place and to get a picture that everyone was satisfied with, but the picture she had framed was not the final picture they had all decided on. Instead, she had chosen one where everyone was bickering about where to stand, how to pose, and what Luciel should and shouldn’t be doing. He hadn’t gotten to look through all of the photos taken that day, but this still in particular felt like something he needed to have for himself. In the photo, he noticed that his gaze was focused on MC completely, and the expression he was wearing was not one he believed he’d ever seen on himself.

The door opening behind him startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn to look. He turned back around just as quickly, seeing MC begin to step out in just her towel. His hands trembled slightly, the tips of his ears feeling all too warm.

“Nearly done, sorry! Just grabbing some clothes,” she explained, the soft sound of her feet against the wood floor disappearing down the hall towards what he guessed was her room. He was glad he hadn’t wandered in that direction.

Opening his eyes slowly, he focused his thoughts on the photo in front of him once more. Although the party had been less mundane than in the past, the only thing that got him through was seeing MC flourish in that party hall. Apart from looking stunning, she was kind, friendly, and wildly charismatic that night. It was a miracle in motion for Jumin, and it was truly a shame that they hadn’t seen each other since that night.

He turned away from the photo, hoping to distance himself from the surge of emotion that was building in his core that he couldn’t name. She stepped out of her room just then, looking excited to see him as she lit up with a beautiful smile.

The wave of emotion he’d tried to elude washed over him almost painfully, freezing his muscles in place. He was unable to stop the thoughts rushing through his mind, pressing his lips together as he mentally formed a very concerning one.

Is this what love feels like?

He didn’t know what romantic love meant, he only knew that he had decided never to engage in it. Whatever was happening to him right then didn’t feel wrong, but he also couldn’t quite put a label on it. He just knew that he wanted to keep seeing her, no matter what it meant.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she grinned, moving quickly towards him as he tried to regain control of himself. He felt his lips pull back into a smile, his shoulders relaxing and his hands losing their fists.

“Likewise,” he breathed out, watching her blink at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t mean to keep you long, I just…” she started, dropping her smile and then immediately turning her lips upward into another one, almost as if she too couldn’t help herself. “I wanted to see you,” she finished quietly, completely unaware of the way her small admittance made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Anytime,” he nodded without hesitation, watching her meet his eyes in confusion.

“I know how busy you are,” she said, raising her eyebrows for him to agree.

“Anytime. Really,” he repeated, thinking to himself that no matter the issue, he would drop anything if she was the one who was calling. He watched as she pulled her eyes from his and met them again multiple times, her smile growing timid. He blinked, taking his eyes from her and wondering if he was making her uncomfortable.

“Thank you, again,” she said to break the silence, bowing to him and making him frown.

“There’s no need for that,” he said quickly, taking a step forward and drawing her attention down to the ill-fitting slippers on his feet. She grinned, straightening up again and softening at him.

“You’re very kind, Jumin. I admire that about you,” she continued. He felt himself reaching to adjust his cufflinks, signaling to himself that he needed a change of scenery or he would more than likely do something he would regret.

“MC,” was all that left his lips, making her smile falter and the air grow thick around them.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you. Please get back safely,” she smiled, wringing her hands together. He nodded, breaking eye contact with her and turning himself towards the door.

“I hope to see you again soon,” he said, seeing her shoulders move towards her ears from the corner of his vision. “I have many topics I’d like to discuss with you. Such as security,” he continued, trying to shift his mind away from the precarious edge at which he’d found himself.

“Security?” she repeated, watching him bend down to place her slippers back where he had found them. Stepping into his shoes, he hummed in agreement.

“You never told me where your key was,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at her and watching as her lips tightened in chagrin. Before a moment had passed, her expression broke into laughter, making another effortless smile stretch onto his lips.

“I’ll be more careful,” she chuckled, taking the key from the table and turning it over in her hands. He nodded, feeling his sternum buzz at the thought of returning to her apartment in the future.

“I’m counting on it,” he said softly, bowing slightly before he opened the door and stepped through. She let it close behind him, not saying another word.

Jumin couldn’t help but linger by her door, his back to it as he convinced himself to keep moving. Once he finally found it in himself to do so, he started back towards the elevator and pulled his phone out, checking his calendar for his next available free day.

~~~~~

hello! thank you all so much for reading!! I have been absolutely not on tumblr at all, but like I said, I can't stay away from Jumin Week <3 if you enjoyed this, please consider liking and reblogging! it really means a lot to me, especially if you leave a note in the notes or in your tags!

again, thank you so much, and I hope you all have a great day!

Mel x

[erimeows]

Partnership

It’s warm as you and Seven sit on the roof of his house, watching the stars in the dark night sky.

When he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, he does his best to memorize your face; (s/c) skin, (e/c) eyes, a kind smile, kissable lips. God, how he wishes he could kiss you. Briefly, the thought crosses his mind. He’s always loved making impulse decisions. Really, he could just reach over and press his lips against yours right now… But he knows he shouldn’t- for so many reasons.

First off, you don’t truly know him. You know that he has a dark past and that he’s a secret agent- you’re his ‘partner’ who he’s frequently paired with for missions that require more than one person. Still, you don’t truly understand his personal life, even though you frequent his house and spend time with him whenever the two of you don’t have much to do. Maybe… If you saw the person outside of the jokes, the hacking skills, and the fun nights spent speeding down empty roads after successful missions, you wouldn’t like him. Who would? That person- the one who he is when he’s sad and alone- is insecure, angry, and bitter. Someone as wonderful as you deserves better.

At least, that’s what Seven convinces himself. While he’s certain that you would reject him, the scariest part is what would happen if you didn’t. If you, another agent, fell in love and got into a relationship with him. What if you died? What if he died? What if his father or the agency came after you? It’s not worth the risk. You’re a dangerous, talented agent, but you’re not nearly as dangerous as Seven. 

So, he can’t pursue you, no matter how desperately he wants to do so. He trusts you more than anyone. That’s good enough. 

“Tell me a secret,” You say, turning your head to look over at the man. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair fans out beneath your head, and your gorgeous (e/c) eyes sparkle underneath the starlight. “A really good one.”

“I have lots of secrets,” Seven responds, turning to face you as well. Curiosity laces your face, but much like him, you remain careful- guarded. One hand remains in your pocket at most times, most likely gripping the handle of a weapon. “But none of them are good. You know what they say- no one can know about the pasts of cats and hackers.”

“They also say that superheroes tend to have tragic backstories. So, Mr. Defender of Justice, why don’t you tell me yours?”

“You really wanna know about my life? You swear you won’t tell a soul?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’m the illegitimate son of the Prime Minister. Seriously, the guy’s been trying to kill me for years, it’s kind of embarrassing how bad of a job he’s done,” Seven explains rather casually, even offering a shrug when you shoot him a confused glance. “I have a twin brother who means the world to me, but I went into this line of work to support him escaping from our abusive mom… And, as I’m sure you know, because of the work we do, I can never see him again.”

You hum and sit up, placing your hands on the concrete of the roof. You reach down to touch Seven, and while he doesn’t stop you, he flinches. You caress his face, then run a gentle hand through his hair. He stops to wonder, has he ever been touched like this? Maybe, when he was little, he and Saeran would cuddle on the floor of the basement to stay warm during the winter- comb each other’s dirty hair out with their fingers to keep it from getting matted- hug each other before Seven went anywhere, just in case it was the last time, because with their father hunting them down and their mother hating their existence, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘later’ were never guaranteed. 

Seven pauses, his eyes fluttering shut. This relationship that the two of you have developed is far deeper than it should be for two coworkers who are strictly forbidden from developing attachments. Seven doesn’t even deserve to have what’s left of RFA, and now he has you, too? No- he shouldn’t let you get too close. At least, not any closer than you are now. Everyone around him always ends up miserable, hurt, or dead. 

“I hope you get to see your brother again,” You whisper.

“I think,” Seven pauses, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “It’s best that I don’t. I’m not who I was back then.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Seven opens his eyes to glance at you. You’re hovering over him slightly, your hand now resting against the side of his neck. He’s forced to push away the memories of his mother’s two hands wrapped around it, to compose himself instead of freaking out on instinct. 

“...I don’t know. Different isn’t always bad, but I’m a dangerous person. I want him to be safe.”

“Then… I hope he’s safe- always- if that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“Yeah. I hope so, too,” Seven smiles and pulls away from you to sit up. You rest your head on his shoulder. The smell of your shampoo- your perfume- your everything- floods his senses. He doesn’t stop you, even if he knows he should. “Hey, why don’t you tell me a secret?”

“I don’t really have any. I had a talent for this sort of thing… Did acrobatics for a while, learned how to hack, did some self defense classes and weapons training when I was young… A friend of a friend told me about the agency at a time I was desperate for money and I went ahead with it because I was bored with my life and wanted a fresh start; to be someone exciting, doing something meaningful,” You sigh. “Though, I was convinced by the friend of a friend that the agency was doing good work rather than… Well, rather than what we’re doing, but by the time I realized, I was already in far too deep. You know as well as I do what happens if we leave.”

Seven swallows. Neither of you have to say it- if you leave the agency, they keep sending the remaining agents after you until you’re dead and not a trace of you or your former life is left. Supposedly, they go after your loved ones, too. The agency shouldn’t know about Saeran, but now Seven has to worry about you and the RFA, too. If he or you ever wanted to leave, you’d have to do it together and in a way where no one could find you. You’d have to uproot your entire lives, go to a different country, and potentially even cut contact with all of your friends.

“Right.”

“It’s past midnight,” You stand up and stretch, looking at the stars one last time. “I should get going.”

Seven glances at his phone, only to see a barrage of notifications on the RFA messaging app. He thinks to convince you to stay the night- to sleep in his bed while he takes the couch so he can enjoy your presence for a little while longer- but the thought dies on his tongue at the sight of a new user on the notification bar.

MC has entered the chatroom.

…What the hell?

“Yeah,” Seven half-heartedly nods and rushes to open the messenger. The messages move so fast from the organization’s panic at an unauthorized user that he can barely read them. “See you later, (y/n). Text me when you get home safe.”

~

The next twenty four hours prove to be Seven’s personal hell. Whilst dealing with the chaos of MC joining the organization very suddenly, V’s peculiar reaction to the situation, Yoosung’s paranoia, and ‘Unknown’ trying to hack into both the messenger and Seven’s personal devices, Seven gets assigned a mission by the agency that he has to go on alone. 

Normally, the two of you have a system; Seven hacks into the place’s data bases to get their information, you go in and do what needs to be done- whether that be stealing something, gathering extra information, or even killing and kidnapping someone. It works beautifully, so when he was told that this was a situation delicate enough that he would have to do it all alone, he panicked.

The panic… Was for a good reason.

After finishing the mission, Seven is barely able to drive himself home. He considers calling Vanderwood for help before remembering that the man would only scold him and drag him back home to catch up on the hacking work he’s been neglecting lately. So, he drives through the late night- early morning- hell, he isn’t sure what time it is. All he’s sure of is that the wind is blowing through his blood-matted hair as it glides over the top of his convertible’s sunroof, and that he is incredibly dizzy when he arrives home.

He parks the car in his parking garage and forgets to close the damn thing before stumbling out and heading towards the door. He grumbles the passcode to the security system in Arabic and trudges in, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he sees you sitting on the living room couch.

And, for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other; Seven leaning against the doorway, you sitting on the couch, his golden eyes pouring into your (e/c) ones. There’s normally such a casual nature between the two of you. Seven hasn’t ever seen you upset, even, but as you stand up and march towards him, he can see the concern and anger on your face at seeing his injuries.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” You question.

“(y/n),” Seven walks past you and into the living room, unable to meet your eyes for any longer. The house was a mess when he left with chip packets, soda cans, and dirty laundry strewn about, but now, it’s spotless. You must’ve cleaned it for him… He can’t help but feel guilty. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t messaged me in hours. Zen said you missed seven chat rooms in a row today,” You frown and walk towards Seven. Seven rolls his eyes at the thought of Zen ratting him out- coincidentally, the actor has been your workout buddy since Seven introduced the two of you, so of course he would tell you that the normally active Seven hasn’t been online all day. He’d be lying if he said he weren’t jealous of Zen, and especially of Zen’s friendship with you, but he’s never mentioned it. He doesn’t deserve you, after all. “I just thought I’d check on you… What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seven shakes his head and shrugs your hand off of him. Though he acts disgusted by your touch, emptiness wells up in his heart the second you clasp your hands together and stare down at the ground. “You should just go back to yours.”

“What? But no one else is here to take care of you-”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Seven, you look like shit,” You point out.

Seven shrugs again. Sure, his face is bruised, his hair and torn clothes are drenched in blood, he’s covered in sweat, and he has scrapes all over his body, but he’s seen worse. Being caught by the two guards and beaten to a pulp before securing the files and escaping is the least of what Seven has been through in his lifetime. As much as he would love to have someone around to care for him after the rougher missions like this one, he doesn’t feel as if it’s fair to subject some poor unfortunate person to being his safe haven- especially if that person is you. 

“I always look like shit.”

“I mean, maybe, but you’re usually not-” Seven coughs into his hand, effectively cutting you off as a streak of mixed spit and blood drips onto his palm. “Jesus, are you coughing up blood?”

“Nah, it’s not that bad. Just a busted lip… And I’m pretty sure a couple of my back teeth are loose,” Seven groans and sits down on the couch, wiping his palms on his dirty jeans. He’s definitely going to have to book a dental appointment soon to get his loose teeth fixed… Or maybe pulled out. Who knows. There’s a reason why you’re usually the one to do infiltration work while he’s behind the scenes on a computer; you’re much more graceful and subtle than he is, so you can get in and out of places without being caught- a skill that Seven has realized he doesn’t have. “No need to worry about it!”

Seven turns on his phone to see multiple missed chatrooms, just as you described. Even worse, the new member, MC, seems to be concerned that he’s been gone for so long. Seven quickly enters the chatroom and offers everyone a half-assed reassurance that he was just busy with work, along with some light-hearted jokes.

“What are you doing on your phone right now?” You demand, arms crossed over your chest. “Shouldn’t you be attending to- you know- this?”

Your arms are thrown up in a wild gesture to Seven’s battered body. For what must be the millionth time that night, he shrugs.

“I’ve gotta make a good impression on the new member, y’know? Don’t want her to worry too much about me- hell, none of the others really know what this work is like!”

“So you’re fine with me worrying about you, but not them?”

“(y/n),” Seven sighs, quickly excusing himself from the chatroom after finishing reassuring everyone that he was just ‘busy with work’ and that he’s ‘totally fine’. He blankly stares up at you. All along, he knew he shouldn’t have let you get so close, but… He’s a selfish man, and he can’t help himself. He does love you, but now, because he’s let you get this close to him, you’re concerned enough to waste your night on him. Maybe it was a mistake to be friends, rather than merely work partners like the two of you were instructed by the agency. “I never told you to worry about me.”

“We’re partners, Seven.”

“Yeah, we are. We’re partners at an agency that doesn’t care about us- an agency that explicitly told us not to get emotionally attached to each other to avoid situations like this! Why don’t you just leave like everyone else?”

“Why are you acting like this?” You question, clearly upset, but still somehow keeping your calm as you sit down next to Seven- perhaps too close. You don’t even seem bothered by the mix of his and other people’s blood, dirt, and dust that’s all over him. “Is it just because you’re hurt? You’ve never been this mean before- it’s like you’re a different person!”

“I’m not acting like a different person, it’s just that you never really knew me that well,” Seven admits. “I hid this side of myself for a reason, y’know…”

Tears well up in your eyes. A pang of guilt tears through Seven’s chest. Right as he considers reaching out for you, you turn your back to him. 

“So you’re telling me that every night we’ve spent together has been a lie?”

“No, it’s not-”

“If you’re going to do this, Seven, commit to it. Has it all been a lie or not? Because you’re making it sound like you’re a totally different person and that the version of you I’ve spent all this time with isn’t really you,” You turn around to look at Seven once more with tears in your eyes. Everything Seven has done to keep you at a distance has been to make sure that you’re safe. Now, though, it’s clear that he’s hurt you deeply with what he’s said. “But I don’t think you’re telling the truth. You’re pushing me away because you have your own problems… I get it, I’m not perfect either, but it’s not fair for you to assume that… That I don’t…”

“What?”

You swallow deeply, a blush on your cheeks.

“That I don’t want to be closer to you,” You finally admit, your voice barely even a whisper. Seven feels his face turn red as well. “That I don’t love you. Why else would I want to take care of you when you’re wounded? Why else would I be so worried that you disappear for a day at a time without saying anything? You think I just run around stargazing and caring for every other member of the agency I’ve been partnered with?”

“Well, no, but-” Seven argues, only for you to cut him off.

“But what? There’s no ‘buts’ here. I thought we’d made progress last night, and that I’d finally gotten you to open up… Seven, when you love someone, you don’t just want to see them at their best. You make me laugh, and you’re wonderful, but I want more than that. I want to take care of you when you’re hurt and when you’re sick, I want to be the shoulder you cry on… I want to hold your hand and make you feel better after a long day,” You start to stand up and head for the door. “If you don’t want that, though… I guess I understand. It’s my fault for getting my hopes up, considering our line of work. I’ll just leave-”

“Wait!” Seven objects, to which you look over at him again. A shocked expression takes over your face. He wants, more than anything, to tell you that he loves you, but the words seem to die on his tongue. He hasn’t said them in years. So, instead, he starts with- “Please… Take care of me. I want you to, too, and… I’ll cry on your shoulder, if I need to.”

You smile at that, then walk back over to where Seven is sitting and offer him your hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, yeah? I’ll wash your hair.”

“Okay,” Seven agrees and takes your hand. You help him up, then guide him to his bathroom. “But only if I can wash yours, too, ‘kay?”

You laugh.

“Sure thing, Seven.”

~

Later that night, the two of you are in Seven’s bed, lying side by side. You both smell of his bubblegum shampoo and soap, and though he misses the smell of yours that normally lingers on you, he’s relieved that the two of you are finally settled after the night you’ve had. His bruises have been iced, his cuts are bandaged, and your warmth envelops his body as you rest your head on his chest and curl into his side.

“Thanks for fixing me up and keeping me company, (y/n). I really don’t deserve it after how I acted earlier… I’m sorry,” Seven apologizes as he reaches over for the nightstand lamp. 

While the two of you didn’t discuss it, he assumes you’re staying the night- or, he hopes you are, at least. 

“It’s no problem. Even superheroes need a little help sometimes,” You chuckle and press a kiss against the exposed skin of Seven’s shoulder. “Seven…”

“Hey,” Seven nuzzles into your hair and kisses the top of your head. “My name is Saeyoung, so you can call me that when we’re alone.”

“Okay, then, Saeyoung. Is that all you have to say? Because I think there’s something else you’re forgetting to tell me.”

“No, um… Well, I don’t say these words often, so it’s taking me a lot of courage to say them, but I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too,” You respond and pull the blankets tightly around the two of you before settling against Saeyoung. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

[asterjennifer]

Reference

You woke up this morning with alerting senses in your belly roaming around.

Something felt off by the moment you stretched your limbs. A vibe inside the room that almost made you shudder without reason.

Confused, you figured it's just one of those mornings where you start off by feeling somewhat disoriented. Everyone had that from time to time, it wouldn't have been the first time to experience something similar.

Therefore you decided to scroll your phone for a while before getting up. But no matter how many cute cat videos popped up on your screen, the feeling stood in the room like an elephant.

Defeated and also unsure how to shake it, you just stood up. Maybe a little walk before having breakfast would help you out....

So you got ready for the day as per usual. Picking your clothes, your shoes, taking care of your appearance and teeth in the bathroom after brushing your hair. Just the typical procedure. You frowned after putting on the jacket. It's weird to not run into one of the twins when you're literally living in their bunker alongside them.

Normally, you'd either run into Saeyoung, being the kind soul that he his, preparing the breakfast for everyone. Or you'd meet Saeran already up due to his sleepless night. Sitting on the couch with a book between his hands.

Nothing though. Neither the former agent nor the bookworm were anywhere to be found. It only worsened this uncomfortable feeling crawling over your skin. Shaking your head the last time, you left the bunker to be kissed by the gentle sun rays. You smiled unconsciously, the warmth on your face immediately had some effect on your mood. Good, you thought. Now things would go back to normal.

Your walk didn't last long, but that wasn't the intention anyway. You preferred being on time to eat together at the table than roaming the streets already familiar to you.

You greeted an old lady on your way back. Sometimes you passed some interesting looking people, leaving you wonder what their story was and how they felt deep inside their hearts.

When you came back in, you finally heard noises coming from the kitchen. It made you smile. You never knew which twin you greeted, it's not that you had a favorite to see first. You liked to play a little guessing game with yourself about it.

And you picked Saeyoung today.

Although the weariness kept following you, you went up to lean into the kitchen frame to find the boy with black jacket and silly attitude facing you with his back. You were right in your guess.

However, he was weirdly silent. Saeyoung loved to listen to music while preparing food. He hummed tunes of older series or simply just tapped his foot on the floor to find a rhythm. There's nothing going on. He was only cutting carrots, pretty untypical for him to be so focused on only one task.

»Good morning, Saeyoung.« You chimed into the kitchen with a light voice.

The man wearing glasses turned around and you expect a smile to find. You're taken aback as your assumption was proven to be false. His eyes were half lidded in annoyance as he had a straight line of lips. It took you off guard so heavily, that you couldn't find your voice for a second.

»If you need the counter, give me five minutes. I'm almost done.«

What the... You blinked in confusion. Saeyoung turned back around, waiting for no answer since he went straight back to cutting. You had no idea what that kind of respond was, especially from him. This was more something that Saeran would say when he's busy.

»Um...« Unsure what's going on, you frowned. »Saeyoung.. Are you okay? You sound like you're in a bad mood.«

The guy in front didn't stop cutting, although his shoulders lifted just enough for you to notice that it was sigh. He waved his left hand in a manner that's close to being offensive.

»Yes, I'm fine. Now let me finish my salad.«

Clueless as to what's going on, you let it go for now. Something's definitely shady, regardless what he said about being okay. His tone of voice and word choice spoke otherwise. Perhaps he'd had a horrible nightmare that ruined his night.

You went back into the living room. This interaction didn't contribute anything to feel less uncomfortable, what in the world was going on? Your hand reached up to scratch your hair.

»(N)!« A happy voice brought your mind back to reality.

Before realizing, someone pulled you into a tight hug. You failed to catch your breath, instead a louder gasp left your lips. The affectionate gesture's luckily released before you could've blacked out from lack of oxygen.

»How have you slept? You good this morning?«

The redhead in front asked, to which you nodded amused.

»Yeah! I had a good morning until I almost got killed!«

You said with a humourous note to your voice. As you lifted your eyes to meet the happy face, you instantly froze in shock.

»That's fantastic,« Saeran said with a wide smile. »I slept like a stone tonight, for a second I thought I died when waking up.«

It was an attempt to make you laugh, but hearing his usually torn vocals actually bring out a loud laugh sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes shone so brightly blue that you could've mistaken them for the sky you just walked under a few minutes ago. The bags underneath his eyes somehow gone. Or overshadowed by his energized demeanor.

He continued starring at you, considering you couldn't help but stare at him in return. Yet his smile didn't vanish from his face, instead he lifted an eyebrow and bumped your shoulder carefully.

»What staring at, hm? I know I look good, but you don't have to leave your jaw open for me.«

The teasing tone underneath the bubbly voice that's not his, you couldn't help but take a step back. Then you frowned before checking him out.

Surely there's an explanation as to what's going on. Did they accidentally swapped their clothing? Did they have a bet you're unaware of, to see who's going to be one holding play pretend the longest? Or maybe, just maybe..

»You two are pranking me, aren't you?«

You asked cautious albeit firm. At this point you had no other reason for this to be happening. Perhaps you're still asleep? But then why did the sun on your skin felt so real? Your head started throbbing a tiny bit.

»Pranking you?« Saeyoung asked when coming out of the kitchen.

A salad bowl in the hand, serious expression on his face as if you'd just insulted him. Almost a hint of disgust by mentioning a prank. And that coming from none other than the Prankster himself.

He shook his head. »I rather go to a party than playing pranks.«

Saeran leaned his weight from both to one leg, lifting his arms cluelessly. »Why? Pranks are fun. They can give you a bit of pep!«

Saeyoung growled as his twin moved towards him, giving him a shove with the hip. Almost trying to bring some light air into the room.

At this point you're neither convinced nor uncertain they are simply messing with your sanity for whatever, inexplicable reason. You watched as Saeyoung rolled his eyes at Saeran, when he actually initiated a hug.

A real hug, mind you. He tried placing his arms around his older twin brother. Who happened to refuse affection from Saeran of all people. It only made him whine dramatically as a result.

»Alright.« You said, turning on your heels with a have of the hand. »I go to bed... I'm out.«

The twins left you alone after you closed the door. For a moment they only looked at each other before Saeran's facial expression changed into somewhat worrying feelings.

»Is she okay today...? She looked so irritated.«

He mumbled while pressing his fingers to his cheek. Saeyoung sighed deeply as he decided to pick the fork and finally eat his salad.

»I don't care.« He claimed dry. »I go and eat my food now.«

»Oh, can you give me a bite big bro?~ I'm really hungry..«

»Make your own food, for God's sake.«

»Aw man... You're really no fun.«

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

Happy Birthday, Butler - Mostly Butler + Keefitz (fluff)

"This is Butler Vacker. He's my emotional support cat." I picked Butler up, and he mewed in response. The lazy, tired mew. Keefe was almost in tears.

"Butler?! That's the best name ever." He sniffed, stroking Butler, who was surprisingly calm. He was so averse to Sophie, it was strange how quickly he'd warmed up to Keefe.

I grinned like a fool. "Today is his birthday." Keefe squealed more, and Butler mewed again. He knew what this meant for him. "Come on," I told Keefe, dragging him to my closet. I threw open the doors, and lo and behold, below my extremely elf-sized clothes, were smaller, cat-sized clothes. And these weren't just a typical cat-sized T-shirt, but rather the most colourful, ridiculous costumes. Keefe burst out laughing, leaning against my shoulder to stand up.

I put Butler on the ground, the black and white cat stalking away and nestling into a pile of blankets in the corner, meowing in resignation. I squatted on the floor, sorting through the clothes. Keefe sat down on the floor, grabbing my face and pressing a kiss to my cheek. His blond hair obstructed my view of the closet, but I didn't particularly mind, seeing as Keefe Sencen was kissing me. I sighed, but it came out through a giggle, and nothing was more perfect.

"This is the one," I said, deciding on a sparkly pink outfit with a happy birthday cap. Keefe nodded excitedly. Then came the task of getting Butler into it.

"Come on, Butler," I said, begging him with my teal eyes. He loved teal. "Please? We need you in this."

Butler let out a pathetic meow before crawling into my arms. I grinned, scratching him. "Well, that was easy. I think he likes you here."

"Obviously." Keefe swished his hair.

"Don't get an ego about it."

Butler complied, and soon he was wearing a sparkly pink skirt with a teal and pink shirt and a stripey birthday cap. I pulled out my imparter, snapping multiple pictures of a pouty, princess Butler.

"Say, cheese, baby," I said, angling the imparter to Butler's side.

"CHEESE!" Keefe yelled, photobombing the picture. I laughed so much I snorted. Butler meowed.

I left the room for a moment, returning with a cat treat and a candle on top of it. Keefe giggled. I held Butler in my lap, with Keefe's arm around my waist and head on my shoulder, as we sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Keefe and I blew out the flame, and I took the candle away soon after, much to Butler's delight. He retreated to the corner of the room, content now with his treat.

Keefe handed me a wrapped box. I eyed him curiously. He shrugged. "What's a birthday without presents?"

I tore the wrapping paper, gasping as I took out two pyjamas; one for Butler and one for me, both teal with smiling cats printed all over them.

I threw my hands around Keefe's neck, burying my face in his body. He laughed again, but it was soft and whispery, like the sound of curtains swishing in the night.

Somehow, Fitz and I ended up next to each other, leaning against the doors of my closet. and somehow, Butler had made his way into Keefe's lap, snuggling into the fabric of his pants. Peace enveloped us, and I was breathing in the perfect stillness that was now. I sighed, a small smile on my face.

"Happy birthday, Butler."

***

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CAT!!!! just a quickfic because i'm too tired. also this is a lottt longer than i planned aha (genuinely thought it'd be like three paragraphs max, now its *checks notes* 606 words)

@thesfromhms i have delivered

[the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not]

Panakes Kisses

(Find me on AO3 @ Cabin_10_Camper!)

Sophie and Keefe were hanging out under the Panakes tree, Keefe being absolutely goofy, as per usual. 

“Maybe I should start calling you Shorty instead of Foster,” Keefe snickered. “You barely even reach my chin!”

Sophie rolled her eyes, smiling. “I’m not that short.”

“If you’re not that short, then why do I have to bend down to kiss you?” Keefe said smugly, running a hand through his already tousled hair. 

Sophie huffed. Keefe had a point- he did have to bend down to kiss her. 

“It’s ok, Foster, I think it’s adorable.” Keefe kissed the top of her head. “Little teeny-tiny Foster.”

“Hey!” Sophie poked him in the side. Big mistake- Keefe was a menace when it came to tickle fights. Within minutes, he had her pinned against the tree, arms against her side, smirking down at her. Then, he bent down and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Ok, fine, you win.” Sophie relented. “But can I get an actual kiss now?” 

“Only if you can reach.” Keefe winked at her. What a dumbass. Sophie tried to push off the tree and give herself some height to kiss Keefe on the lips. Key word: tried. She was still a few inches short, and ended up kissing Keefe’s neck instead, right below his jaw. 

Keefe suddenly released her arms, turning away.

“Sorry,” Sophie mumbled. “You know I’m clumsy.”

“It’s fine.” Keefe squeaked. Why did his voice sound like that? What was wrong?

Sophie walked around to where Keefe was facing, concerned about him. 

“Keefe? What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.

“Noth-nothing,” Keefe stammered, avoiding her gaze. 

Suddenly, Sophie realized that Keefe was blushing bright red. Why was he blushing? A theory popped into her head: maybe Keefe really enjoys neck kisses… 

Well, only one way to find out. Sophie thought gleefully.

“Well, if you’re sure you’re ok, I want to try to kiss you again.” she said slyly, stepping closer to Keefe.

“What is going on in that head of yours, Foster? You’re planning something and I know it.” Keefe eyed Sophie suspiciously. “I don’t trust this…”

“Oh stop being a baby,” Sophie rolled her eyes. “After all, I’m just a teeny-tiny Foster, right?”

She stood on her tiptoes, acting as if she was going to try to kiss him on the lips. She stopped abruptly, looking towards the dinosaur pastures. 

“Keefe, is that Silveny over there?” she asked. Keefe looked over to where she was pointing, oblivious to her sneaky little trap. While Keefe was distracted, Sophie mustered up her courage and pressed a gentle kiss onto Keefe’s neck, right where she had accidentally kissed before. Keefe let out a small gasp.

“Foster-” he began, looking redder than Dex’s hair.

“I knew it!” Sophie shouted triumphantly. “I found your weakness!”

“What? No, you just… surprised me is all.” Keefe weakly tried to explain. “I, uh, uhm…”

“Liar.” Sophie smirked at him. “Now I have something to make fun of you for.”

Keefe made a melodramatic ‘offended’ face. 

“Foster, when have I ever made fun of you?” he asked indignantly. Sophie raised an eyebrow in response. “Ok, ok, I get it, I do that a lot.”

He gently traced circles on her back with his fingertips. 

“But don’t knock it till you try it, m’kay Foster?” Keefe whispered in Sophie’s ear. She shivered. There was a moment where nothing happened, and then… Then, she felt Keefe’s lips on her neck, sending a shiver of electricity down her spine. She let out the same small gasp that Keefe had made earlier. Sophie could feel her heartbeat all the way down in her toes.

Keefe pulled away, flushed and proud. Sophie was sure her face was beet red. 

“Not so cocky now, eh Foster?” Keefe teased. Sophie had no response.

Now she fully understood Keefe’s reaction to the heaven of neck kisses

[password-door-lock]

As soon as Saeran gets his hands on his new driver’s license, he makes the drive into the city to pick you up from work.

A lot has changed since Saeran was first liberated from Mint Eye three years ago. After leaving the hospital, he was given a simple new identity, a passport inscribed with a name that did not belong to him. He could use it for doctors’ appointments and other necessary paperwork, but it did not permit him to operate a motor vehicle. For those first two years, it was clear that Saeyoung didn’t trust his brother in a car. He didn’t say those words exactly, but the sentiment was made obvious by his refusal to furnish Saeran with a driver’s license of any kind. 

A year ago, however, Saeyoung started to get more comfortable with the idea of Saeran driving, and he began to suggest that Saeran take the wheel for short trips between venues where law enforcement was not likely to be present. As Saeran’s natural red hair began to grow back in, Saeyoung began to grow more confident in the universal utility of his own falsified driver’s license, should the need arise for the twin behind the wheel to provide identification. He also came to understand that Saeran wasn’t likely to get pulled over, though he still had nerves about unsupervised trips. 

Then, everything changed. A few months after Saeran started driving again, somebody at C&R discovered a flash drive containing a file marked with Saeyoung’s name. Within a week, the Prime Minister was arrested for holding vast sums of money in offshore accounts. Within a month, such items as high treason, conspiracy, and even attempted murder were added to the list of charges. By the time the bastard was finally brought to justice, he was being held accountable for almost all of his crimes. 

This, at least, was what you reported from your conversations with top personnel at C&R— neither Saeran nor Saeyoung had any interest in opening the file knowing where it came from. Who it came from, in particular, but Saeran tries not to think about that. He’s come a long way, but his journey to healing and self-forgiveness is far from over. It’s better not to dwell on the things for which he still blames himself, especially not on happy occasions such as this one.

So now, Saeran has a brand new ID, and he can’t wait to show it to you. He drives Saeyoung’s least garish car— which is still painted an annoyingly bright color, but jewel-toned purple is a lot better than tomato red, lemon yellow, or neon fucking green— to your workplace and parks it outside. Saeran has practically memorized your schedule by now, so he knows he got here at the perfect time. Not only do you write your hours on the calendar hanging on the wall beside the spice cupboard in your kitchen, but you always make sure to call Saeran right away when you get done.

Like clockwork, his phone rings as soon as he shifts the car into park. “Hey,” he greets you. He’s not really one for gushy pet names, but you know this about Saeran already. “Don’t buy a train ticket.” 

“Why not?” You ask, sounding concerned. “Did something happen? Is there—”

“Nothing like that,” Saeran cuts you off, not wanting you to worry. He may not be the most vibrant person in the world, but that doesn’t mean he’s cold or heartless. “I’m outside.” 

He watches as you step out of your place of business. You look around, confused. “Where? I’m at the east side of the building, by the back entrance— are you out front? It might take me a minute to get over there.”

Saeran smirks, prepared to drop his bombshell. He’s looking forward to your passionate response. “I’m in the purple car.”

“The one with the after-market tail lights and the orange racing stripes?” 

Unfortunately, yes. “Mhm.” Already, Saeran is thinking about the possibility of getting his own car— he’ll be sure to pick a black one. Maybe grey, if he’s hard-pressed. Even a champagne-colored car would be better than this. 

“I only see one of you.” You rush over nevertheless, lugging your heavy work bag. Your phrasing is a bit awkward, but Saeran knows what you mean. You've never seen him behind the wheel before without Saeyoung also in the car. “Is Saeyoung hiding in the backseat? This isn’t some kind of prank is it, love?” 

Saeran’s lips twitch the way they always do when you call him love. Pet names and terms of endearment tend to feel clunky in his own mouth, even after all this time, but he doesn’t hate them when they come from you. “No. I’m waiting for you on my own.” 

You slide into the passenger seat and hang up the phone. “You’re telling me you voluntarily took the car with the after-market tail lights and the orange racing stripes?” 

Saeran wrinkles his nose. He likes when you’re silly, but he doesn’t want to hold you in suspense about his good news any longer. “I’m telling you I got this in the mail today.” He grabs his driver’s license and holds it out to you.

Your eyes widen as you read the text on the card. “Saeran… Choi,” you recite, “This is… this is your real name! Does that mean—” 

“The government knows about us now,” Saeran confirms. He and Saeyoung are finally free to exist out of hiding, living their own lives with their real names.

“Oh no, poor Saeyoung,” you contradict your utterance with a grin, handing the card back to Saeran, “He’s gonna have to start paying taxes now. So sad.” 

Saeran snorts. “C&R could still help him evade them.” He’s grown comfortable with your sense of humor after spending so much time with you. It’s nice to play back and forth now that he has a better understanding of the world he lives in.

“Well, see, now, that would just be tax evasion,” you laugh, easily and languidly, “Which is highly frowned upon, you know? Anyway, congratulations on your license. Now you can go anywhere you want, any time you want… with anyone you want.” 

“And I could get my own car,” Saeran muses. That’s going to be his next order of business, now that he’s told you the good news. 

“A black one, right?” You already guessed what he’d want without him having to tell you. “If you want, we can keep it at my building— we’ve got a garage. You know, just so it’s in the same place as your toothbrush and your library books and your significant other.” 

Saeran laughs at that, too. He knows you could be more subtle if you tried— you’re making this type of joke because you’d be perfectly content whether he accepted the offer or not. You've never pressured him to do anything before, and you're clearly not about to start now. “Now that I can prove I exist, you could add me to your lease.” That’s another thing he’s been thinking about a lot. He sleeps at your place most nights anyway, so it wouldn’t be very much of a change. 

“Well, that’s just common sense.” You lean over to kiss him on the cheek before pulling away. “Anyway, I’m starving— should we go get some dinner? But you’ve gotta drive, since I'm already buckled in." You make a big show of buckling your seatbelt.

Saeran rolls his eyes at your playful comment. He’s never felt more free.