#I get tired of my style so maybe I try something new soon !

[evangelina830]

Sneaky

[st4rpiece]

sleeping separately after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: mihawk, crocodile, and buggy x fem! reader summary: how cross guild would react to you sleeping alone after an argument CW: mainly fluff, slight angst others: not proofread, lowercase intended, and pictures found on pinterest

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Dracula Mihawk

mihawk is known for his stoic and composed demeanor. however, an argument that leads to you sleeping in the guest bedroom would shake his calm exterior. mihawk values control and precision, not just on the battlefield but also in his personal life. The argument would leave him feeling a sense of imbalance, disrupting the harmony he strives to maintain.

initially, he would analyze the argument with the same meticulousness he applies to his swordsmanship. he would replay the conversation, seeking to understand your perspective and where he might have gone wrong. he would be restless and his castle, usually a sanctuary of peace, would start to feel unusually empty and cold.

his conclusion? being right wasn't worth you being upset and distant with him. especially not when it meant sleeping alone.

"dear?" his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he enters the room.

"I would save this for the morning, but that would not sleeping in your arms tonight," he says, kneeling beside the bed and lifting you up bridal style. his actions catching you by surprise as you subconsciously wrap your arms around his neck for support.

"you can tear me a new one in the morning," he jokes (something he rarely did), before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he made his way back to your shared room.

Sir Crocodile

crocodile would initially react to an argument and subsequent separation with a sense of indifference. or at least that's how it looks on the surface. the argument would leave him brooding as he is not one to easily admit fault, and his pride would make it difficult for him to do so immediately.

he would spend the first half of the night in his office, surrounded by the trappings of his power, telling himself that you'd get over it soon.

as the night wore on, your lack of presence would make him realize that you weren't going to get over it soon. and by this point, he has had enough. he would make his way to the guest bedroom. without even bothering to knock, he would burst through the door, staring down your curled-up form. a pang of guilt would run down his spine as he looked at you.

"when are you coming to bed?" his voice rough, a complete contrast to the worry in his eyes and the guilt that he felt. he already knew the answer, so when you don't respond he would just lift you up, throwing you over his shoulder before landing a firm slap on your ass.

"you're mad? fine, be mad, but be mad in our room," he says sternly as he walks back to your shared room.

Buggy the Clown

buggy with his flamboyant and often comical personality would react to an argument with you more dramatically. the idea of you sleeping separately would initially infuriate him causing his pride and insecurities to flare up.

he would spend the initial moments of the separation grumbling and throwing a minor tantrum to anyone who could listen, convinced that he was right (he wasn't). however, as the night wore on, his anger would give way to the loneliness and regret he felt.

he would pace outside you door, muttering to himself as he debates whether to knock or not. not sure if you even wanted to see him after what he has done.

she's probably waiting, arms wide open, for me

or maybe she's packing her bags finally tired of my antics

oh nika i hope it's not that

in the end, he would knock on the door and try putting on a confident front even though he's low-key expecting you to ignore him. so when the door opens, the first thing you are greeted with is a shocked buggy, making another one of his goofy faces. this subconsciously cracks you up unknowingly breaking the ice for him.

"sugar! oh, how i've missed you," he would immediately pull you into a tight hug. and without much of a warning, he would start word-vomiting his apologies.

"i'm so sorry about my actions from earlier sugar and i’m sorry for being so stubborn about it. I understand now that i went too far and that i should’ve acknowledged that instead of arguing with you. but i promise that it won't ever happen again. so please forgive me this once, sugar?"

you don’t have it in you to send him away after all that so instead you would simply pull him into the room before turning and going back to bed this time with him following suit.

—————

part 1

hi guys! thanks again for reading, this is the second part and honestly the last, for op at least. buggy was surprisingly the easiest to write while mihawk was the hardest TvT. hopefully i did them all justice tho!!

i have a few ideas of what i want to write but if you have any suggestions for plot or character please let me know, i’m open to any ideas :).

[lostsyren]

Could you do.....maybe Sofia canceling a date with Rafe because her paycheck got delayed, and she feels to embarressed to go on dates in the same clothes and had plan to buy new things. She tells him that she is sick, but then he sees her at a bonfire party. He feels heartbroken thinking she lied because she is tired of him while he is head over heels, he walks off, she runs after.....ANGGSTTT <3

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ date night

{a/n: sorry for taking so long to get to my requests but I hope it was worth the wait!!}

{summary: sofia can’t make it to date night, and rafe’s not happy about it…}

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

“You really like that dress don’t you?” Ruthie said with a slimy smirk across her face.

Those words echoed through Sofia’s mind as she stared at her closet trying to figure out what to wear with her date with Rafe.

She hadn’t even thought twice about the clothes she wore in front of Rafe and his friends before– having enough confidence in her sense of style. Sofia had carefully curated a wardrobe from lucky thrift store finds and the occasional designer splurge when she had some of her pay check left over.

So when Ruthie had teasingly poked fun at her favourite dress (a satiny, floral slip that she adored), her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“It’s so cute though, if you like that sorta thing, I can understand why you wear it so much,” Ruthie had continued, hiding her bitchy words under a guise of tooth-aching sweetness.

She hadn’t thought about it again until Rafe had asked her to come out to dinner with him a couple nights later. Sofia enthusiastically accepted– it was only when she got home to get ready, seeing her limited selection of clothes, did the stirring regret begin to overwhelm her senses and Ruthie’s words begin to engulf her brain.

She still had time to go out and buy something new, something Rafe would like (and something that would shut Ruthie up), but when she checked her account balance, she realised she didn’t have enough. After the bills for her siblings tuition and the chunk of her wage she’d spent helping her parents fix the car, she was left with nothing. And she wasn’t getting paid again till a couple weeks.

Sofia huffed exasperatedly, sinking into her bed. She hated feeling like this…feeling inferior. What if Rafe through the same thing? That he was taking her to all these flashy places, driving her around in his shiny car and she couldn’t even dress up a bit for it?

With a sinking heart, Sofia grabbed her phone to call him.

It went through instantly.

“Hey baby, everything ok?” He asked, his voice eliciting somersaults in her stomach.

“Hi Rafe, I just…I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, I’ve got this horrible headache and I think I’m just gonna go to sleep,” she fibbed, biting her lip.

“We don’t have to go out, I can pick you you up and we can just chill at mine– order from that place you like?”

Sofia didn’t like lying to him, it almost physically pained her, gnawing at her bottom lip and playing with the dead skins around her thumb. “I think I just needs some rest.”

“Ok then, get well soon yeah? And text me if you need anything alright? Goodnight Sof,” he said, disappointment toning his words.

“Night Rafe.”

She ended the call quickly, burning hot with guilt– she hated lying. Especially to her boyfriend of all people.

And now she had nothing to do for the rest of the night all because she was too embarrassed to wear the same thing twice…it was honestly so stupid. Sofia huffed and turned around in her bed.

As if sensing her impending boredom, her phone buzzed with a text from her friend, talking about a bonfire party at the Boneyard.

Sofia smiled too herself, slipping on her worn trainers and getting ready to head to the beach.

She didn’t have to worry about what to wear there.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

Rafe, along with Topper, Kelce and Ruthie drove down to the Boneyard. He wasn’t supposed to tag along, but with Sofia cancelling their plans, he had nothing better to do.

As they rolled down the rocky beach in Topper’s jeep, Rafe pulled out his phone, sending Sofia a quick text.

R: Hope that headache goes away soon then maybe we can reschedule? :)

Rafe was surprised at how disappointed he felt after she said she couldn’t make it. All he could think about sitting in the back of the car, watching the Stygian waves roll onto the coast, was how much he’d rather be with her right now.

“Yo Rafe, I thought you were busy tonight?” Kelce pestered with a smirk.

Topper chuckled lowly, “oh yeah, wasn’t it date night tonight? What happened to that?”

“She wasn’t feeling too good so now I’m stuck with you idiots.” He muttered.

“Oh come on, you’ll see her again the club. I’ll make sure to ask for doubles so she’ll come by our table twice, yeah?” Ruthie goaded, twisting her body around so she could see him.

Rafe brewed with a dull anger– he always thought Ruthie was a bitch.

“Two drinks Ruthie? You sure about that? Aren’t you a lightweight?” He scoffed.

“Hey hey hey, let’s have fun tonight yeah?” Topper mediated, parking up the jeep next to the arsenal of vehicles.

The four of them hopped out, heading to the kegger, quickly getting pulled in by their kook friends, enveloped in the heady flow of gossip and conversation. Rafe just stood quietly, sipping at his third cup, enjoying the warmth of the fire on his face and salt of the air on his tongue.

His vision strayed over to the other side of the beach, where all the pogues had congregated. And that’s when he saw her. Dressed in her favourite shorts and sunset coloured hoodie– she looked gorgeous bathed in the glow of the bonfire.

Rafe felt his heart sink into the cavern of his ribcage. She lied to him.

Settling his solo cup down on to the kegger, he pulled out his phone and rang her number, watching her like a predator eyes its prey, his dilated pupils honed on to her unassuming figure.

She excused herself from her friends, walking off to a quieter area before she answered his call.

“Hey baby,” she cooed with a smile, Rafe seething in silence as he watched.

“How you feeling? Still got that headache?” He asked bluntly, his molars grinding down on each other.

“Yeah- yes, still hurts.” She said. Rafe saw her eyebrows furrow as she bit her lip furtively.

“You at home? It sounds kinda loud over the phone?”

“Yeah my siblings have the TV on,” she blatantly lied. Rafe breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Oh so you’re not at the bonfire at the boneyard?”

Rafe watched her face drop, her gaze darting around the beach as she stayed silent on the phone. She locked eyes with him from across the sand, her mouth parting slightly, lips forming a little ‘o’ shape, something that he usually found cute, but now it just irked him.

“Rafe,” she said, voice bordering a whisper.

“You fucking liar,” he hissed, before ending the call, and heading over to the cars, ready to call an Uber for himself and head home.

He tried to regulate his lurching breaths, anger beginning to flow hot through his veins, but it was hard to do when a heart rending sadness slammed into his nervous system, catching him off guard.

Sofia? A liar? No. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like everyone else.

His fingers struggled to order an Uber, shaking with the aftershock at seeing her deceive him with such disregard.

“Rafe! Wait please I can explain.” He whipped his head back to see Sofia approach him.

“Stop it Sofia, explain what? Huh? How you lied to me?”

A pang of regret reverberated through him when he saw her glassy, tear filled eyes, her quivering lip. Was he being too harsh? No. She was the one who was in the wrong– not him.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s ugh it’s going to sound so stupid Rafe, but I promise I didn’t mean to hurt or lie to you.”

“What’s going to sound so stupid? Why you made an excuse to get out of being with me? You hate me that bad huh?”

“No no! Of course not. Look, Ruthie said something the other day…” she began, her cheeks red and tear stained.

“Ruthie? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” He yelled. They were on the outskirts of the party, away from the crowds and crackle of firewood.

“She was making fun of how I wear the same thing all the time, you know? And it made me get self conscious…and tonight when I was getting ready, I just got in my own head, thought you would want me dress up more, not just wear the same things every time.”

Rafe’s face contorted in confusion. She couldn’t be serious right now?

“And I can’t just buy a new dress like that, I have bills to pay and stuff so I was just feeling sorry for myself and lied because of my own stupid feelings.” Sofia’s lips began to quiver, another bout of tears quickly approaching, before she shrouded her face with her hands, muffling her soft cries.

“Sof…” he said, tone gentle and kind, feeling like shit for shouting at her. He should’ve know Sofia had a reason for lying and he should’ve know Ruthie had something to do with it.

“Ugh it was so stupid, and I feel like an idiot.” She laughed mirthlessly, as he pulled her into a hug, letting her cry against his chest.

“Baby, you know I don’t care right?”

“Yeah I know. I care though.” She mumbled against his warm embrace.

“Come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry again, I feel terrible.”

Rafe slung an easy arm around her shoulder, leading her up to road where their taxi was going to meet them, “well don’t, otherwise I’ll feel like shit for shouting at you.”

“Fine. Truce?”

Rafe chuckled softly, looking down at her with a soft smile, as she gazed up at him with her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, truce.”

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

A couple days later, after Sofia had slept over at his place, she woke up to the birds singing on Figure 8, a sound lost amidst the cacophony of building work and barking dogs on the Cut. She sighed contentedly, turning around in the sumptuous sheets ready to nestle up against Rafe, to find the bed empty. She hummed in dismay, forgetting it was Sunday, the day he needed to go down to the office.

Eventually, after letting her eyes flutter shut for a couple more blissful minutes, Sofia rolled out of bed, slipping on Rafe’s shirt, a habit she was getting increasingly used to.

She pattered across the hard wood floors ready to get into the shower, before her eyes snagged on something resting on the drawers. It was a cream coloured bag, one from those fancy stores in Kildare Town Centre, the straps made of black silk.

On it was a sticky note, Rafe’s familiar scratchy writing scrawled across the paper.

Now you don’t have an excuse to miss dinner with me :)

Sofia’s eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as she read the cryptic note, rifling into the bag.

Inside was maybe a dozen items of clothes, from satin dresses to cashmere shirts, all in shades of her favourite colours– blooming pinks, soft oranges, cherry reds. She adored every single one.

Her heart soared with excitement and warmth, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. Rafe could sometimes be so sweet it left her weak-kneed and gooey, her insides alight with joy.

A creeping sensation of guilt arose– these must’ve been expensive. Sofia noticed he’d removed all the tags off them, probably anticipating her qualms about the price. But she put it aside, ready to first try them on. She’d pay him back, she told herself, running her hands over the silken fabric.

Carefully unpacking each item, she laid them out on the bed, until her fingers skimmed the final one.

Pulling it out, she rolled her eyes with a small smile when she saw the two piece lingerie set Rafe had nestled at the bottom, comprised of black lace and gossamer.

Sofia laughed softly, as she put the piece along with the rest of her gifts– maybe she already had a way to pay him back, one that was much more fun than working double shifts at the club.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

[doki-doki-imagines]

PLS PLS CAN YOU DO THAT CHAT THING WITH KAISER, NESS, SAE AND NAGI WHERE READER TEXTS THEM SAYING “your face is so pretty I just wanna sit on it” AND THEIR REACTIONS😍😍

author note: Idk how to use fake sms app so I went for an ol' classic gif reaction.

Michael Kaiser:

-What is he looking at? At his reflex on the mirror obviously. -A laughter starts to blossom from his chest, already pushed out like a proud rooster. -He slicks his hair back, blue eyes shining with joy. Michael licks his teeth, perfect as he is. Damn, anybody would like to sit on his face; he is so fucking handsome. -He picks his phone up ready to message you something along the lines of "C'mere. I'll give you the ride of your life." Michael smirks, proud of coming up with such a hot line(it isn't). -But the message you sent got deleted. -His eyes bulge out almost cartoon style. Did he dream about it? Was the message from someone else? Michael checks the other chats, but nobody messaged him. -He doesn't want to message you about that, he isn't desperate! But a voice in the back of Michael's mind screams at him. -"?" He sends back. "Did you need something?" "No, Michael. Thanks for worrying." You reply immediately. -His heart picks a worryingly fast beat. You replied way too fast. A lightbulb turn on in his head, but the idea he comes up with is pretty risky. Michael feels blood running to his ears when he finally presses send. -"If you are free wanna come over? I need help choosing the new bed covers."

Alexis Ness:

-He is mind-numbing happy. After all, it is a pretty nice compliment to read from his crush. -If Alexis had a tail it would be wagging left and right now. A dumb smile is plastered on his face while he keeps looking at his phone. -"What are you looking at, Ness?" It's Michael's voice calling him back to work, mildly annoyed that the other boy's attention wasn't fully on him. "Oh- It's nothing, Kaiser! Let's go back to training." Alexis hides his cell phone under the last layer of his gym bag. Michael doesn't dig further for once. -When Alexis opens his phone back the sun already left his place for the moon. He obviously forgot about your message 'till he reads the new ones. "Have I crossed any boundary, Alexis? I'm sorry if it happened." "Please I don't want our friendship to be ruined by this." His heart sunk to his ass and climbed back into his throat in a matter of seconds. -Alexis calls you, clearly worried. You pick up fast for Alexis' heart health. "I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner! I had practice and I had to go then-" he keeps blabbering "I'll do anything for your forgiveness." "…Anything Alexis?" "Yes." "I wasn't joking when I sent you that message…my or your place?" "Yours. It will be my pleasure." He says, voice finally calm. -He wasn't joking.

Sae Itoshi:

-"I must have forgotten the part where I asked your opinion." -HE IS RUDE. -Sae knows it is a joke. A stupid one to try to tease him. He may not be the brightest mind, but he understands what you are trying to do. -He goes back to training like nothing happened. Then he showers and all of sudden Sae has the urge to add another line to the previous message he sent. -Meanwhile, you replied with a ton of sad emojis and other dumb blabbering Sae's mind doesn't even register. -"Anyway I prefer to eat it from the back." Sae smiles thinking he has just sent the king of the comebacks, an earth-shattering line. Soon he gets a reply, that makes his smile drop. "I must have forgotten the part where I asked about your opinion." -Maybe you are really made for each other.

Seishiro Nagi:

-What a nice message to receive. Not. -You are hundreds of kilometres of distance what is supposed to happen? Honestly thinking is tiring him out. -Seishiri sends you the thumb-up emoji and throws his phone somewhere on his bed, pc already turned on to play the newest game. -But now a worm dug a hole in his head, making Seishiro thinks about the message and not at his ranking flopping; such a noob behavior. -He thinks about your soft thighs pressing his ears, your warmth enveloping his face… -Seishiro facepalms, fingers messaging his temples before brushing away some of his snow white hair strands away from his forehead. -He doesn't even notice he already dialed your number. -"Talk dirty." "What? Muddy pants? Sweaty shirts?" "Don't play dumb. It's all your fault if I can't concentrate now. And don't let me explain, it's bothersome." You chuckle at the other end. He can feel the mirth in your voice. "Sorry angel. You'll have to work if you want the prize." -He groans in annoyance, head thrown back. -It seems like Seishiro will have to break his "5 days doing nothing useful" streak.

[acciocriativity]

-> | You keep distancing yourself | Ateez Reaction (Hyung Line)

Some could call selfsabotage, others could say is insecure attachament style, but maybe, you're just tired of fighting a losing battle.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Ateez OT8 x gn! reader

WC: 2 k

N/A: This is my peace offering after vanishing for so long (please don't k word me)! I had this in my drafts for the longest time, but I only got enough motivation to finish it yesterday

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading my work!

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

His kakaotalk notifications were non-existent these days.

None of the boys were good texters, and their group chat was silent since Seonghwa asked for something he didn’t remember anymore a while ago. So why did he keep glancing at his phone across the table when he should be working? You never answered whether you would like to come see him next month or not.

“Aish..”, he suddenly got up and walked left and right in the tiny studio, every now and then hitting one of the chairs and acting like it was their fault.

Was it really too forward? Maybe you just were not comfortable with the idea. But you two met 5 months ago and you were never afraid to get out of any situation that made you uncomfortable, so you could just say no, no hard feelings. There’s always a next opportunity, right? So why, why didn’t you just reply?

His phone lighted up. A new yellow notification appeared and he ran to grab it. The simple thought of you messing with any rational thoughts on his mind.

He felt stupid as he read it, then dropped the device on the table, too dejected to care about Mingi’s lost earphones.

Since when did he become so clingy? Maybe you were just busy now, yeah, that was it.

And he wasn’t wrong. You were doing the most to busy yourself so you would have a perfectly acceptable reason to not answer him at all.

Any college assignment you had a month to do was now was a top priority. The new hobby you wanted to try for a while? You just started it. You barely talked to your brother nowadays, but in the last two weeks, you visited his family a couple of times.

Why? You knew what you were doing in the first few days. You got attached too soon, fell deep into a hole and only realized the moment he asked you to watch his concert, ‘It’d mean the world if you come see me on tour next month’ it said. You recalled one of those deep conversations you had some random night the moment you read it.

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but not at the same time”, you remembered how he looked down when you asked about it, the blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It gives me so much strength and makes me want to work harder whenever important people come to see us”.

He also said how he treasured whenever important people in his life would support him that way. Even through a simple video call, you saw how his eyes shined as he giggled, only to change the subject. A part of you wished to feel how it was to have a support system like he does, but you never thought you would be included in that category for him. You did not even know if you want to or if you could deal with the pain that always comes with giving your heart to people and letting people in.

So you refused to think about it.

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

He cleaned his throat as he saw you coming towards him at one of the many small corridors of KQ Entertainment.

“It’s now or never, now or never, now-”

You barely glanced at him as you walked into one of the empty meeting rooms like it was previously agreed.

Lucky him, nobody saw the disheartening expression on his face or how he hesitated to push the door open. His confidence level went back to below zero and instead of an easy smile, he could barely manage a shy smile and an unnecessary formal bow as he came in, it wasn’t like you did not know each other.

So maybe this collaboration would not go as smooth as he let the others convince him it would, still, he could talk to you and, hopefully, get back to the simple relationship you both once had.

“Hello, Seonghwa-ssi”, you said in such an indifferent polite tone. It surprised him and yourself.

What hurt him most was the fake professional smile on your face. You were known for your authenticity and the worst poker face on earth, but you made the effort to pretend in front of him, like he was nothing more than an inconvenient stranger in an elevator. His heart felt heavy on his chest, he never had to make an effort to make you genuine laugh or smile, and now he realized how much he took that for granted back then.

You seemed perfectly fine in front of him, like it hasn’t been more than a month since your last conversation. But he still likes to believe he knows you better than that. And maybe he wishes you also can not be fooled by his brave facade.

“How have you been?”, the words fell out of his mouth before he could even blink.

You cleared your throat as you sat on one of the rolling chairs. “Been good, Hongjoong-ssi is a bit late. Can you confirm that he is coming soon, please?”

You pretended not to notice how he fumbled to grab his phone to send the text and instead, busied yourself to set up your laptop on the empty wood table. But you could not ignore how he was still standing like a lost child by the table.

“Are you going to grab some water before the meeting?”

“No, no, I’m… I’ll go to get some coffee, do you want it?”

You said no, so he took your perfect opportunity to get out and he left as quickly as he could with hurting his pride too much.

With his back to the wall beside the coffee machine, he sent more than 16 messages pleading Hongjoong to let go of their stupid plan and come as fast as he could to the meeting. Yet, he was left unanswered. The last sent message almost taunted him, it said “Just apologize for your stupid mistake and make things right by her”.

He knew he had to after he acted like an asshole, it was clear the moment he got home to be with his own thoughts, but the more he reflected on their plan, more he realized maybe this is why you waked away from him.

So he gathered his courage once again, but now to apologize for two things and leave you alone for good.

Jeong Yunho (정운호)

He watched as you giggled over some silly comment Wooyoung made a point to tell for the nth time. Yet, there you were, acting like it was the funniest thing in the world. Maybe he would react the same way if you stopped ignoring him for once that night.

“It’s getting hard to watch this”, Jongho mumbled under his breath as he stood up from the couch to refill two glass cups in their dorm’s kitchen, both for himself because only God knew how tiring was to hype up a miserable and stubborn friend.

Yunho did not notice the change beside him, but he did take note of your agitated state under his stare. He wished that could satisfy a selfish desire of satisfaction, but he felt nothing of that sort. Instead, his heart felt heavy with despair and unfulfilled need of your attention.

It felt silly to him at first, you two kissed after drinking a lot, so what? He was ready to let the past be the past and he thought you were on the same page. How stupid of him, he recognized it. Your relationship with him never went back to what it was, but it took him a while to notice he did not want that at all.

“C’mon, will you really let him suffer for the whole night?”, Wooyoung asked as he leaned into your side, ready to cuddle some more in part because he wanted to and in part because it was fun to see Yunho going insane over it.

You two been near the window for a while, enjoying the soft cold breeze of the night after a sunny day.

“You can’t deny it forever”, he said it in an annoying singing tone. “-ow, but you know I’m right”, he looked down to your hands dangerously close to his poor ribs, then grab them tight. “Ok, I get it, not talking about it”.

“Great, now let go”, you mumbled. “Let go, I’m not poking you”, you insisted trying to free yourself, only for him to intertwine your fingers.

“What if I don’t want to? Now, stand still”, he said as he leaned into your shoulder, taking the space like he was entitled to it.

Now, you were flabbergasted and defeated, because no matter what you do, you could not escape him on cuddle monster mode.

“Can we talk?”, you froze in place the moment you heard Yunho’s smooth deep voice right beside you. His gaze were focused on your face, yet you still made no move to acknowledge it.

“Give me my cuddle buddy back later, yeah?”

And just like that, the freaking traitor let go of you. You could see the mischievous light on Wooyoung’s eyes focused on your figure.

“There was no way to run away now”

That thought ran through yours, Yunho’s and Wooyoung’s mind. But you felt rage while Yunho felt hope.

“There’s nothing to talk about, wasn’t what you said?”.

You bumped into the traitor’s shoulder, then walked away.

Kang Yeosang (강여상)

Maybe you were some sort of a masochist or, maybe, you were plain stupid.

You’ve been friends with him for so freaking long, long enough that the few female friends that could still deal with your bullshit were exhausted of you and your ridiculous crush.

You clearly knew you were the latter, for some reason you thought you’d get over at some point or maybe he’d suddenly see the mysterious thing he was always looking for in you. None of those happened.

You stopped talking about him a little ago, maybe a month or two, and it was a good change to your friends’ ears. It was noticeable, but they gave you enough grace to not mention it. Little did they know, you were running from him like the plague as well.

Truth to be told, Yeosang did not notice it per se. He knew for sure something was going on after you declined his third attempt to make plans in less than two weeks. Why would he think you were lying to him at all? He thought you were sick and if you were felling that bad, of course he wouldn’t hesitate to agree with you, it would be better to meet up another day.

But then, two whole weeks with barely a peep from you? He missed your companionship in a way he did not know he could. You came into his life and little by little carved your space in his heart. But it was hard to put this feeling into words, he was not good with them in general, so you often had to read through the unfinished lines.

Now, he laid on his back watching the nothingness on the ceiling, yet his mind kept recalling the earlier conversation with San, if he could call his tongue tied moment a conversation.

“So what you gonna do?”

He could do nothing but stare wide eyed. Up until then, he did not think- no, he did not feel like he should do anything. You said through your actions many times already that you wished to be alone and as a friend, what else could he do but respect that?

But San was a hopeless romantic, and he wasn’t one to let things go so easily. Also, he wished the best for the two of you, in whatever way that may be even though Yeosang did not see those possibilities right in front of his nose.

“What should I do?”

“You have to figure it out on your own”

He did, he should.

He called you.

You didn’t pick up.

You were tired of being the one reading between the lines.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

[haza1ll]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[gainingfiction]

Heavily Used

Summary: This is a bit experimental (or weird), and maybe a bit predictable, but I had fun writing it. This is a story about an important relationship in a fat guy’s life, and the risk of taking things for granted. It’s also a story about coping (or not coping) with change.

Hope you enjoy!

~

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I can only handle so much. It’s one thing to be taken for granted, that’s something we all have to live with. It’s just the total lack of acknowledgment, or even awareness that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna snap and call it quits.

A little bit about me: I’m stylish, polished, and pretty easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself. Born in Poland, but my background is Swedish—I’m European, at heart. The name is Anders, but no one actually calls me that. I’m not super high-maintenance, once you figure me out, but everyone needs a little attention from time to time. Some tending.

Especially living with Max.

I’ve known Max for a while, and he’s not a bad guy. He can be a little rough sometimes, and maybe a little careless, but it doesn’t come from a bad place. I think it’s just a lack of self-awareness. And let’s be honest, that’s a common problem among pretty-boy jocks.

The trouble with Max is that he’s not the pretty-boy I once knew. He’s changed… he’s grown. I mean, he’s literally grown. Grown by about a hundred pounds, if I had to guess, and counting. Over the course of our time together, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with his ass, and I’ll admit, it’s a great one. But, boy, he’s got a lot more ass for me to handle these days.

It’s not insurmountable, not yet at least. But I’m worried it’s getting there.

It started out simply enough, the innocent midnight snacks and occasional takeout treats. No problem, right? Twunks can afford to indulge a little, especially a hot commodity like Max. But then, you get comfortable. You settle into a routine, you let yourself go. That’s the thing about creatures of beauty: one minute you’re the hottest guy in town, trim and toned, with a golden tan and handsome face and perfect, silky hair. The sort of guy who only seems to exist in a Hollywood version of reality. But then, inevitably, something happens. Sometimes tastes change, or maybe you’re the one doing the changing.

I won’t deny, I’m not in the same shape I was when I entered Max’s life for the first time. Any long-term relationship comes with the normal wear-and-tear. Max, though, has taken it to a whole new level.

The little snacks become big snacks. The extra meals go from “occasional” to “frequent” to “everyday”. Gluttony takes over. A 32-inch waist becomes a 36-inch waist becomes a 40-inch waist; size-small shirts are discarded in the back of the closet, soon joined by ill-fitting mediums, and then by larges, stretched out of shape by a gut that won’t stop getting bigger. Max used to flit around the apartment like a bird; now he lumbers like an elephant, heavy footfalls and a slow, waddling gait. His own warning system—you can hear him coming.

On paper, I know I should be trying to help lighten the load. And it’s not like I’m totally unappreciated; there are days when he comes home from work, legs tired and arms loaded down with takeout, and I can tell he’s genuinely happy to have me. But it doesn’t last long. Once dinner’s over, I’m back to being ignored while he sits on the couch, gorging himself in front of the TV, until he comes around again to stuff his face at the next meal. Which, to be fair, is pretty often these days.

It sounds cruel, the way I talk about his escalating weight, his increasingly-indecent greed. I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish he’d consider how it might affect me. I have to live with him, and he’s starting to cramp my style. But it’s not like I can say anything. I just have to sit there in silence, while he eats and eats, grows and grows, piling on pound after excess pound. And the way he eats, moaning and licking and slurping… it’s downright pornographic.

250 starts to feel like a lowball as the months go by. He’s pushing me to my limits without even realizing it. I’ve never had to deal with a guy this fat before, a guy whose big, round bubble butt would hang over the side of even the most substantial chair. And I, personally, am not “substantial”. I’m pretty thin; it’s just how I was made. I thought Max was made that way, too.

I start trying to make my frustration known, but like I said, I can’t just come right out and say something. So I try a little subtlety; a small groan every now and then when he throws himself down at the dinner table for another round of hedonism. If he notices, he doesn’t care. He just keeps upping the ante.

And upping just about everything else: his pants size, his portion sizes, the size of his monster-truck ass and thunder thighs. They press together whenever he sits down, now, lard against blubber. Not like in the old days when his legs were lithe and lean. His moobs bulge against every tank top, his pudgy arms pack his sleeves, his love handles blossom over the top of every waistband like ripening tropical fruit.

In occasional moments of self-pity, I hazard a guess: how much does my man weigh now? 275 pounds? 300? Is he even trying to do something about it? Clearly not. He never works out anymore, unless you count working up a sweat over a third (or fourth, or fifth) slice of cheesecake. I honestly wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, just to spite me. Or test me. But I know that’s crazy—like I said, sometimes I truly doubt he even thinks about what it’s like for me.

But the problem is getting harder to ignore; he really throws his weight around these days. He heaves himself up off the couch. He rests a hand on the front of his bulging belly, barely restrained by some poor, threadbare top, back arching forward from the strain of it all (he’s not a tall guy, which makes his increasingly S-shaped silhouette even more pronounced). He trudges from the living room to the kitchen and drops himself in front of the table like an anvil. When he sits down, his ass, spilling out of some indecent pair of jean shorts, spreads out like lava blanketing some hapless Roman hamlet.

Some nights, I strain underneath him, feeling absolutely crushed by his sheer weight, boundless mass bearing down on me with the force of gravity. How big is he now? I wonder, as I listen to him moan and groan with pleasure. 325? 350? Could he really have gained over 200 pounds? How could he not realize what he’s doing to himself—what he’s doing to me?

He’s just so oblivious. I don’t even recognize him anymore. I’ve been starting to make noises about how uncomfortable I am, how much I’m struggling with his extra weight. But, as always, it falls on deaf ears. His tight little butt has become a pair of vast, ponderous globes, his abs and lats and obliques are encased in a spare tire that belongs on an 18-wheeler, his tits bulge out and dangle towards his armpits. And he just. Keeps. Going. 

Keeps eating. Keeps gaining. Keeps expanding.

Things reach a boiling point before dinner one night. I can see him piling up the table, unboxing some outrageous quantity of food for his secret nightly mukbang. Well, secret except for the consequences, which anyone with eyes could notice. “There’s a man who likes his food” would be such a trite, vapid observation that it doesn’t even need saying. He doesn’t just “like” his food, he lives for his food. Food is practically a part of Max’s identity at this point.

He’s starting to lower his colossal ass to sit, and I can tell this is it. Tonight’s the night. Fuck it, I’m done. He’s well past 350 pounds, and that’s too much weight for me to handle.

Maybe he’ll appreciate me more when I’m not around. Hejdå, Max, it was nice knowing you! At least, it used to be.

~

Max sat on the floor, rolls of fat still wobbling from the jarring motion of his fall. His chair had been complaining for a while now—squeaking and groaning every time he sat down—but he hadn’t expected it to actually break. What a load of bullshit! He wasn’t even that fat!

He looked around at the splintered wood, soreness radiating across his ass—and not in a fun, post-fucking kind of way. At least his buttocks were nicely-padded. When he was bony, a slip on the ice hurt like all hell.

He was glad he was alone, or this would have been super embarrassing. At least no one was around to see him smash that chair like a pro-wrestler in a grudge match. He knew he’d been overdoing it, but this wasn’t his fault. How could it be, surely he wasn’t that big? Just a little out of shape, in need of a few good workouts to shed some winter weight. It was just the cheap IKEA furniture he bought.

With a grunt, he started the process of heaving his monumental form to a stand. As he started to gather his momentum, he glanced at the ruined seat and frowned. He actually liked that chair. It was pretty comfortable.

At least, it used to be.

(Author’s Note: don’t forget to rotate your dining chairs!)

[detectivestucks]

Akatsuki Concubine I

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Tobi x F!Reader x Konan

Summery: Coming from a poor background you were sold to the pleasure house at a young age even though your dream was to one day be a shinobi. Instead, as you grew up, your mistress got tired of your attitude and sold you to the first duo who asked. These two were none other than members of the formidable Akatsuki.

Warnings: NSFW, DubCon, Female receiving oral, threats of violence,

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is an AU where all the Akatsuki members are alive and together. New mini-series. More parts coming soon.

Sold to the pleasure house at a young age, you were familiar with a life whose path is set for them. You knew you were to serve noble men and their kinks before being sold and married off to the highest bidder. Only you weren’t one to be touched against your will. You had always wanted to become a ninja but you weren’t born into a shinobi family. You were born into a poor family who couldn’t afford to keep their only child. So you read and you practiced, all by yourself. Every day, from the time you were young till now, you centered your chakra, allowing it to flow from point to point. Feeling its life-giving strength fuel your power. You developed what you read was an unusual combination of Fire and Water style jutsus. Your favorite one to use was phoenix flower jutsu. The balls of fire dancing in the space between you and the latest toolbag who tried to touch what he didn’t pay for always made you feel protected. Little did you know it couldn’t protect you from everyone.

Back at the Akatsuki hideout, the crew was getting rowdier than ever. Constant missions had kept everyone apart for months but the burnout was obvious so their leader, Tobi, assigned missions closer to home. The issue is that a band of ruthless shinobi such as the Akatsuki don’t do well within close quarters. 

“Give back my detonating clay!”

“Nice try blondie. I know you were in my room trying to steal Samehada last night. She told me so.”

“Was not!”

“As if I believe you. Maybe I’ll feed this to Samehada, see if she’s as good of an ‘artist’ as you.”

“Wait! I need that for my art!” 

“Psh, you speak of art as if it’s your god. Come to the way of Joshin and you’ll never worry about your silly art again.”

“SHUT IT Hidan!”

“Or what?! Wanna become Joshin’s next sacrifice!”

The purple-haired man swings his scythe at the young artist when the tall shark-like swordsman snatches up the boy by his long blonde strands. 

“Hey! Let go or I’ll-”

“-What, kill me?”

“All three of you need to shut up! When’s our next mission so I don’t have to suffer you idiots?”

“Sasuke, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say to your brethren.”

“Not now, older brother.” he retorts with a pinch to his nose. Soon a half white, half black figure pops into the room.

“Can someone tell me what it’s like to poo?”

“Ah, gross Zetzu! Why’d ya have to bring that up again?!”

“Well, when someone answers the question, maybe I’ll stop.”

“ENOUGH!”

The voice was deep and commanding. An orange-masked man rounds the corner in his scarlet clouded cloak and all members fall silent.

“You are shinobi of an elite organization. Act like it.” 

The man named Tobi strides through the room catching Pain on his way out. 

“Pain, Konan, come.”

A tall orange haired man with a face littered in piercings and a slender woman with a paper flower in her hair follow behind into a spare room. 

“These idiots are always bickering.” Tobi’s baritone states with exhaustion.

“They’re bored sir.”

“I give them respite and they thank me by acting like a bunch of children.”

“Maybe they need something to do…or a way to blow off steam.” Konan defends

“They should be training.” Pain says with a firm nod.

“...or…uh, I…nevermind.”

“Out with it woman.” Tobi’s words spit out like venom.

“Maybe they have…urges…to release?”

“Oh they do, do they?” Tobi presses “Are you speaking from experience?”

With flushed cheeks Konan’s lashes fall.

“That’s what I thought.” Tobi looks towards Pain, “You’re dismissed.”

Both shinobi turn to leave when the deep voice speaks up again, “Where are you going?”

A slender hand raises to tuck lavender strands behind one ear. “You said we were dismissed.”

“No, I said he was dismissed. You haven’t finished serving your purpose.”

With a thick swallow, Konan stands up straight and turns back towards Tobi. “What do you need?” 

With each word he steps forward.“Tell me more about these urges? How do you suggest we satisfy them?”

With one more swallow, Konan finds her composure “I would suggest concubines sir.”

“Concubines, eh?”

“Yes, I believe there are several pleasure houses in the nearby village.”

“Good, I want you to check them out.”

“Check them out?”

“Yes, find some pretty merchandise for your comrades.”

“Don’t you think you should vet them first? You’ve been so picky with who you’ve let into this organization and these girls will be privy to our secrets.”

Tobi muses to himself before agreeing. “We’ll do reconnaissance tomorrow.”

You finish your supper as your lady enters the room. “House is busy tonight. You’re taking the next caller.”

“I’m not putting up with any funny business.”

“Try to be desirable for a change. And stop scaring away the customers.”

“They’re dreadful and disgusting.”

“And pay well”

You scoff at her. “I’ll be in my room.”

“You scare off one more customer and I’m selling you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time!” you call over your shoulder as you walk to your room in a huff. You wish to slam the door as hard as possible but she was right, you could hear your sisters all working. The sounds of men groaning come from every corner of the house and it would be unwise to create a ruckus on such a bustling evening. 

You sit at your looking glass and brush out your hair. You allow it to fall down your back and tickle your neck before you lean forward to apply a small dusting of blush and smear rice water cream over your lips to soften them. Just as you finish, you hear your door begin to open. You look up to a stout man entering your room and raking in your appearance with obvious hunger. You felt your stomach tighten at the thought of entertaining him but you plastered on a sweet simper and move to sit on the mattress, patting the place next to you. 

Meanwhile downstairs Konan approaches your misses.

“Excuse me ma’am. Would you happen to be selling any of your girls?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I am.” Tobi’s tenor voice crashes over the lady as her mouth falls open in fear upon seeing the masked man with the glowing red eye. She realizes her state and quickly closes her mouth while wiping her hands on the front of her dress. “No, I am not selling any of my girls.”

Across the home you hear a man shouting in terror “FIRE! FIRE! HELP THERE’S A FIRE”

“...Except for that one.” she finishes with rage.

Tobi and Konan immediately head towards the shouting to check on the source of the commotion. Upon entering the room they see a beautiful young woman with hair fallen around her face and a disheveled kimono open in the front, exposing both breasts and her pelvis.

“Oh relax” you say, weaving hand signs for your water style cannon to extinguish your phoenix flowers. “Now go, and don’t come back. We don’t need your type around here.”

“Yes we do!” your mistress chimes in, pushing Tobi and Konan to the side to scold you for your behavior.

“No we don’t! He’s a pig! And who the hell are they?!” you say gesturing towards the cloaked shinobi.

“Your next customer”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well that’s too bad cause they intend on purchasing your worthless hide.”

“Like hell they’ll take me.”

You weave the tiger sign to once more scare away these newcomers with your phoenix flower flames only to be met with a ginormous fireball to the face. Quickly you switch your jutsu to water style to combat the masked stranger when he voluntarily stops. 

Your hair falls in your suddenly sweaty face as you gauge the man before you. 

“My, my. Aren’t we a feisty one? And a user of ninjutsu as well. That’s a first.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Well too bad for you because I am. Konan, give the lady the money.”

“Good, take this ungrateful slut off my hands. Maybe you can knock some sense into her. I don’t need my house set ablaze every other day. I’m done.”

You feel your chest constrict with anger and sadness. To be cast aside, demoted to the value of a coin, yet again, and be forced to go to a new home once more. What’s more, is your tricks won't work on this one. He can out master your flames. You give a panicked look to the one with a paper flower atop her head before your teary eyes stare up into the dark hole of the orange mask. 

A gloved hand glides up and cups the bottom of your chin, “Don’t get soft on me now kitten. I enjoy the spark.”

You rip your face away from his hand but he grabs you by the arm. “Konan, test her out for me, please. If you like her we’ll keep her, if you don’t we’ll kill her.”

The sadness in your heart quickly spins to fear as you realize how dangerous your new owner must be. 

“But sir-”

“You said you had pent up urges.”

“I-”

“What? Were you going to ride the face of that Pain puppet? That seems a bit chilly, don’t you think? Why not try someone with a little more body heat?”

The pain and insult were obvious on Konan's face but she did as she was told and approached you. 

With cold and hooded eyes she demands, “Knees.”

You swallow, remembering his words. There was no way out of this one. You were going to have to do what you were trained for and earn your keep…along with your life.

‘You’re the whore; you know what to do” 

Your hands rifle past the noir cloak and find the ties of her pants. You pull the skin tight spandex down past her knees and gently lift her leg to tenderly slide the fabric over her ankle and off her foot.

The pants now removed, your hands hold open the front of her cloak similar to your open kimono. You lift yourself off the heels of your feet and bring your mouth to the front of her cotton panties. You kiss her heat over the cloth before your teeth find the waistband and pull down. 

“Good girl.” you hear the masked man purr from the entrance of the room. 

One hand slides under the thick bamboo fabric of the scarlet and black cloak to graze over her cheek and sink your fingers into the soft flesh of her behind while your other hand wanders up her pale inner thigh, finding her labia and slipping two fingers up into her slit.

Grip tightening on the muscle of her rear, your fingers thrust in and out, hooking inside her squishy insides, feeling how they tighten around your digits. Once she gasps you pull them out and look up at her face before wrapping your lips around your fingers and sucking them clean. The taste was sweet, almost like a baked treat and your lids flutter slightly before she grabs a large section of your hair and pulls you up to your feet.

“Arms folded behind you and lay down on your back.”

You do as she instructs and find her crawling up on the mattress to straddle your face. Her robes fall over your head and you are plunged into darkness, completely blinded by the cloak.

As her weight pushes against your face, you open your mouth to kitten lick at her entrance made wet by your foreplay. 

Just as you open wider to sink your tongue between her lips she reaches back and pinches your nipples earning a cry from you that vibrates against her folds. A satisfied hum can be heard from the place where the masked man stood and you knew he approved.

You jab your tongue out as far as you can and stroke forward inside her heat, slurping up her juices with loud wet sounds. Her hips rut against your face as satisfied signs leave Konan’s chest. You wrap your lips around her little nub at the front of her entrance and rub the tip of your tongue back and forth along the bump. 

Her legs close around your head before suddenly releasing. She repositions herself so that she is facing down your body rather than towards the head of the bed and as she sits back down, your nose prods against the crevice between her cheeks. 

With better access to her swollen bud you seal the perky tip between your pillowy lips and suck. Her thighs squeeze against your body and she weaves hand signs so that two paper butterflies appear and fold into clips. They flutter towards your nipples and you feel their wings brush against your skin before the clip on their bellies opens and traps your sore nipples between them. 

You squirm and whine at the discomfort but really it causes you to clench around nothing. Your legs kick out feeling desperate to get up but your mouth obediently continues to pet her clit. 

Konan lifts her hand and brings it down harshly between your legs, slapping your folds and protruding clit. 

You scream, the vibrations tickling between her legs causing her to lower more of her weight onto your head. Your legs snap closed. “No you don’t.” she says smooth as butter. Grabbing one of your legs in her arms, she holds your leg against her chest and continues her assault on your folds. 

Her rutting against your face as you scream causes the noises to come out muffled and broken which only makes Tobi’s member stiffen in his pants. The spectacle of your squirming beneath his comrade mesmerized him and he knew he wanted you to himself. 

You open your mouth wide to drag your tongue all the way from the hood of her clit, along the front of her entrance and point it as it enters her heat where you dance it in and out of her hole causing her to fall forward and rest her weight on the hand pushing into your waist. 

The butterfly clips attached to the tips of your breasts tightened the more you please the female ninja, who eventually falls all the way forward and returns the favor, sucking on your own swollen nub till your legs shake with pleasure. 

The harder she sucked, the harder you sucked, till you feel her gush on your face and both of you collapse from orgasm. She dismounts, panting from the feeling and nods at her masked counterpart. “This one will do.”

“Well, well, looks like you’re coming with us after all.”

Before you had a moment to realize the meaning of his words you feel yourself being pulled forward and suddenly you are in a dark gray abyss filled with large chunky blocks. You look around realizing it is just you, naked, aside from your small kimono that you pull over your shoulders for comfort. You are standing there alone, all by yourself, with no idea where you are or how you got there.

Masterlist

Coming Soon:

Part 2: The New Master

Part 3: The Uchiha Slut

[transzilla]

Need a sub who is going to let me forcemasc him and kick his fucking ass like 80s rough trade style. Like some real neanderthal low IQ bdsm. Like I want to put him in the hospital. LMAO

You like a dom when it's one of your skinny fucking chainsmoking cis boys, like you honestly think you're hard because you let some skateboarder who can't lift a spare tire smack you around a little bit.

Your problem is that you're scared because you don't know what pain is. So believe me when I say I'm going to teach you what pain is.

I am literally on steroids and I do this shit for my own enjoyment.

Have you ever been hit in your liver? Like right on your ribs, a real body shot? It's like somebody lights you on fucking fire from the inside out and your whole body burns worse and worse by the millisecond. And you can taste it. Like I'm making you suck on some pennies. Lmao.

When your nose bleeds it will taste bad but you should be fine provided it doesn't obstruct your breathing. When your nose gets broken, that sinus fracture won't hurt right away from the adrenaline but as soon as it wears off it hurts like fucking hell and you can't touch it without it crunching or cracking around under your skin. You will feel nauseous and then fucking sick at the way your face breaks in ways you didn't know was possible, pieces of your inner cheekbone breaking and getting loose in your eye socket, the devil's own human anatomy lesson. When you get knocked out by getting punched in the face you think you're fine for the first half second but when the momentum catches up and your brain hits the other side of your skull in your head it's good night from there. And after you come to your face will be valentine's red and pink and swollen and nigh unrecognizable and from there is just going to turn so many pretty colors you'll look like a goddamn renaissance painting.

I'm going to make you scared that you're gonna die. And then you're gonna be scared that you might not.

You can complain, you can scream, you can beg, try to run, try to fight back, hold your hands up, there's honestly no point because you know you're going to take it and you know you like it because I say you will so you will. You're a faggot. There is something wrong with you. If you didn't come to me to try to fuck you would have just spent your time trying to run away from the first chucklefuck who knew how to fight and had a problem with you. You made it clear that this is how you accept love, so I will make you wear it on your face.

I am not going to afford you the ability to hide behind a mild, vanilla, effeminate or weak front. I am going to hurt you so badly your friends and your family and your significant other can't even bear to look at you without feeling your pain as badly as you felt it. They can't hold your perfect pretty girly face in their mind anymore, even after you eventually heal your nose has been bent into a new shape and the symmetry your teeth grew into has been rearranged into a haunted graveyard of broken and missing teeth like tombstones. And you can't exploit their safe conditional acceptance anymore. And you have to find a way to live as an ugly fucked up man when you can't get by looking pretty and doing nothing.

And idk maybe after I'll let you suck my dick a little bit.

[g4yforethan]

always forever

pairing: tate langdon x gn!reader

summary: reader moves into the murder house and encounters tate who is curious of the new owners

warnings: cursing, kissing

a/n: tate is not a criminal in this story i just find evan peters hot ! also i love y’all smmm!

you and your family had moved to los ángeles after a fire engulfed your previous house in flames. you never found out the cause of the fire but your mom put the blame on your dad for "leaving the stove on at night." you were also sad that you were going to leave your hometown and all of your friends but stayed optimistic for a new beginning. when you arrived at the house, you felt an energy. a strange energy. the house was victorian style and had lots of space. you could see why your parents chose it in the first place. after getting all your things inside, your parents went out on a date to celebrate the new move. they had invited you but you were too tired to go out and decided to stay in and order a pizza instead.

after getting into bed and watching a movie you hear a thud in your closet. you were scared but courage ran through your body and quickly opened it. there was a boy inside. you screamed for him to get out. "wow wow relax. i was just trying to see what cds you have here." he said as you back up from him scared. "first of all who are you and how the hell did you get into my house?!" you could've sworn you had locked all the doors so it was impossible for him to have snuck in. "let's just say i know all the ways to this house. i live right next door to you and seen plenty of people move into this house." "okay well then what are you doing in my room? and you never told me who you are."

"i told you i'm just tryna see what kind of albums you got here. not good ones though. and my name is tate. what's yours?" he got closer to you and now you could see he had blonde hair and soft skin. "i'm y/n. we just moved here today." tate started to move around your room and noticed some your posters that you had hung up on the wall. "mhm scary movies huh? i'm a big fan of friday the 13th." you laughed and found his sense of humor entertaining. "same the sequel's better to be honest. well my parents are coming home soon so maybe you should go." he gave a disappointed look at you. "sure i can't spend the night here? we could listen to some cds and maybe have a quick make out session or something?"

you were taken back by what he said but you couldn't deny the fact that he was exactly your type. "i mean we could listen to an album or two." his face lit up with excitement. the two of you sat on the floor listening to a rock album while tate discussed his life and asked you about why your family moved. "it was just a lot. i mean we never knew what caused the fire but we basically lost everything. i'm just nervous for this new part of my life and meeting new people and-" you started to tear up and tate took note of this and started to hug you. "hey hey. everything is gonna be okay alright? i mean it's gonna take time but at least you got me here so." you smiled and found comfort in tate. with his arms wrapped around you, the two of you locked eyes as your lips met his.

the two of you kiss for what seemed to be hours but it was a good 5 minutes of kissing. tate began to kiss your neck as you ran your hands through his hair. he lifted your shirt and placed his hands on your waist. “god you’re so beautiful.” he whispers in your ear as your face warms up and your cheeks turn red. he lays you on your back and starts to leave kisses and hickies on your chest and belly. his soft lips leaves you wanting more and more of his touch. his hands start to reach your zipper. “can i?” he asks you. you nod and he smiles and starts to unzip your pants.

all of a sudden, a knock on the door interrupts you two. “hey y/n we’re back home!” your dad yells outside from your room. you look at tate in fear while tate has a calm look on his face. “oh my god you have to go now!” your dad starts to open the door and you close your eyes and cringe in fear. “hey honey is everything okay?” you open yours eyes and look around your room. tate was gone. he was there just a second ago. “uh yeah i just woke up right now.” your dad asks you to come downstairs for leftovers. you agree and look around your room. how did he do it? you look in front of you. “boo!” it was tate. “oh my fucking god tate! how did you hide so quickly?” “let’s just say i know this house a little too well.” he leans in for a quick kiss before disappearing again into thin air.

[sowritten]

TO WONG FOO, THANKS FOR EVERYTHING! JULIE NEWMAR

feel free to edit pronouns, etc. as needed

If we're going to be friends, there really is something I should tell you.

I can tell you one thing about them founding fathers of America; they sure had fabulous wigs.

Your approval is not needed.

I've waited my whole life to hear those words. And I'm very, very, very happy that you're the one to say them.

Nothin' this pretty could be real.

What in gay hell?

Looks like it's the age-old dilemma: style, or substance?

I think of you as an angel.

I think that's healthy!

Do you ever, like, not cry in this room?

Baby, you can have him.

I got a million dream lovers, alright?

I've got a broken heart for every light on Broadway. And when one of them goes out, I just screw in another one, okay, hello good-bye.

I'm the Latina Marilyn Monroe. I've got more legs than a bucket of chicken!

I didn't ask to come on this trip, did I? No, I don't think so!

As soon as we get to the next town I am jumping on the first man and riding him all the way to New York City and away from you 'cause this trip sucks! It sucks!

How do I look?

I don't know who he is, but if there's a snowstorm tonight, he's going on my tires.

Since you have obviously learned nothing, I am hereby stripping you of all your princess points.

I don't need a dream. I have a plan.

That might be all fine and dandy but you still have a lot more to learn.

Does everything have to be a joke with you?

This is not a masquerade! This is real life!

Oh, my God, I'm like a compass near north.

You have the potential of a lifetime and you are squandering it.

I want you to turn your swayback little self around on those Robert Clergerie Knockoffs and get back in this car.

Larger than life is just the right size.

No one is so rich as to throw away a friend.

I'll bet you were the brightest in your class, weren't you?

I feel like Miss Jayne Mansfield in this car.

You gotta take chances, because you never know, you know what I mean?

I'm not gonna worry about if people accept me or not.

I'm gonna make Hollywood wherever I am at.

I want you to believe in yourself, imagine good things and moisturize, I cannot stress this enough.

There are times when you help people, and then there are times when if you help people, you end up being killed.

Go on and talk to him, you speak honky!

This America does not respond kindly to our sort of person.

No one say anything frivolous for the next few moments.

I am having a significant experience.

Try to describe her and not use the word "statuesque".

I've had enough of this conversation, I'm hungry.

Let's just relax. It's gonna be alright.

A car? Mary Alice Louise, no. This is a land yacht.

How you gonna hitchhike if there are no cars, stupid?

I'm not rich, my parents are.

It's like living in a Tex Avery cartoon.

Live life before it lives you.

If you want them to know there is steak for dinner, you got to let them hear it sizzle! Understand?

You ruin my language and I still love you.

I think I'm gonna black out.

Why is he on the ground?

I am not going upstairs with you.

If you were my girl, you'd never cry for anything, except maybe for happiness.

I think tomorrow is a "Say Something" hat day.

Lets throw you a pity party.

You're gonna be second class and you're gonna be second rate your whole life.

Don't quote me but I think this one is decease-ed.

Actin' real proud of yourself just like a New York City girl.

I tell you where I'm going, I ain't going nowhere.

If I was your bread, would you be my butter?

[twin-chains]

Thoughts on the Zelda news

HOLY SHIT

I'm surprised we're getting a new mainline game so soon. I genuinely expected a port of older existing games at best if anything. (We did get Four Swords which I'm really happy about). I was worried TOTK would ruin future Zelda games for me but the prospect of playable zelda saved it (which almost feels purposeful so good on you Nintendo)

Speaking of TOTK, thank the stars they're not trying to squeeze a third game out of the BOTW map. TOTK is amazing and a third one would just be tired out

I like that it's in the Link's Awakening remake toy style. It'd feel wrong for Nintendo to make a new realistic 3D open world type game that we have to wait 6 years for like TOTK (still waiting on the TP port tho!). However, a shift to a more cute cartoony look makes more sense without regurgitating the same toon Link designs from the Wind Waker and Four Swords trilogies. Plus LA is so charming!

I'm hyped for playable Zelda! I know there's been Wand of Gamelon (and Spirit Tracks as a command-able companion) but this is so exciting since it's a more new mainline release. This truly is Zelda's Awakening (for taking a more active protagonist role in her own franchise). And hopefully this'll open the door for more playable Zelda? (but I'm getting ahead of myself). It truly is the legend of Zelda!

This might be controversial but I think it's a good decision for Zelda to not wield a sword and shield. Cause that would defeat the purpose of having a new protagonist in my mind; if you just swap Link for Zelda but don't change anything else than what's the point? What distinguishes the hero's Courage from Wisdom? She can fight but has the wisdom to take a more magic-based combat approach with the tri-rod or wand (of Gamelon haha). Though it'd still be pretty sweet if EOW Zelda pulled out some Sheik moves or a cool shot with a bow to be honest.

I really appreciate the union between the older top-down style (hopefully more linear!) and the newer mechanics that allows for multiple creative solutions for the same puzzles. Of course, Nintendo's trying to lean towards the openness and creativity of individualizing one's gameplay experience from TOTK by incorporating the echo mechanic but it really works to give it to Zelda! I will find a way to complete the game solely with the potted plant echo or something stupid.

The triforce is back, baby! The little fairy Tri reminds me of Rosalina's star pet thing from Mario Galaxy. I can't believe the essence of the triforce incarnate is Zelda's cute travelling companion. Does this make her one of the most powerful heroes? (aside from the earliest ones where Link wields the entire triforce). Also it's probably for the sake of the echo mechanic but I'm curious why Tri seems to have 4 little triangles instead of 3? Lore implications?

Speaking of lore implications, WHERE in the timeline will this go??? I've seen a lot of people suspect it's in the downfall timeline, maybe after Link's Awakening or ALTTP because it's the same Hyrule map so I'm willing to agree for now. Even if I'm getting OOT vibes for whatever reason. Though if Ganon isn't creating the purple cracks in space, there has to be a cool new villain for Zelda to face off against that messed with the triforce in some way for Tri to become the way they are. For lack of knowledge, my silly little theory is the multiverse is collapsing and Cia comes back or something idk (I may be biased tho because the cracks are visibly inspiring the rifts in space-time I'm planning for TC).

All in all, I'm so happy!

[flyingwargle]

bokuto hasn't been home in a month because of a series of away games, but he finally gets the chance when the team's last match is in tokyo before a four-day break. he waves goodbye to his teammates as they board the bus that'll bring them back to osaka and turns to walk toward the nearest train station.

"keiji! i'm home!" bokuto shouts as he enters the apartment. a flurry of footsteps follows, and his boyfriend appears in the hallway.

"welcome back, kou." akaashi's still in his pajamas, bedhead unruly, tired eyes bright with love as he approaches to embrace him, lithe arms wrapping around his waist. "i thought you weren't going to be back until tonight?"

"we managed to finish the team meeting last night, so the others left this morning. you're still in your pjs!"

"not for long. i have to leave for a meeting soon."

bokuto pulls back to frown at him. "it's a weekend! are you overworking again?"

"i know, but my seniors want me to meet a mangaka that's visiting. he lives in ibaraki and doesn't come to tokyo often." akaashi gives him a reassuring smile. "it won't be for long, i promise."

they enter the bedroom - bokuto to put his bag down and change into sweats, akaashi to change from pajamas to business casual. they head into the living room, where bokuto immediately sees changes from the last time he was home. "i forgot you redecorated!"

the changes are subtle - akaashi's desk is closer to the window, the couch pushed further away from the brand new tv. another new addition are the low shelves along the wall, countless framed photos adorning the surface, manga volumes crowding the rows. all are udai's works.

bokuto kneels and pulls out the first volume of mateo attack, the protagonist drawn in his full splendor on the cover. "did you buy these?"

"no, the printing press gave them to me. these are the first editions, so there may be printing errors that make them unsuitable to sell. i offered to take them instead of recycling them." akaashi sips his coffee. "you haven't read mateo attack yet, have you?"

"i didn't have time," bokuto says sheepishly. he's been saying he would, ever since it began serialization. "but now i do! it's better than just sitting around while you're gone."

he places the first five volumes on the coffee table and settles on the couch with the first one, pulling the blanket over his lap, arranging the pillows behind him. when was the last time he read like this? contrary to popular belief, bokuto does read by listening to audiobooks, morning runs and long commutes accompanied by tales of fantastical worlds and thrilling plots. the team has a bi-monthly book club (since that's how long it takes for them to finish a book), where they alternate between fiction and nonfiction. only one manga series has been recommended so far, a tragic yaoi oneshot that ended in unrequited love. everyone called their significant others afterwards, bokuto included. atsumu just laughed at them, and then cried. hinata comforted him.

"should we cook tonight?" akaashi asks from the kitchen. "or should we go out?"

"let's go on a date! wasn't there this sushi restaurant nearby you wanted to try?"

"i'd like that. i can call later to put in a reservation. the quality is above standard, so we'll need to dress appropriately."

it sounds like a pointed comment, but bokuto brushes it off. he has all day to style his hair and put on something that isn't polyester. "what time will you be done?"

"no later than three. we can eat at six?"

"okay! i'll just read, maybe go for a walk and find lunch later. mya-saam opened his shop nearby, right?"

"two stops away, just outside of the station. i can text you directions."

"i know how to use google, keiji!"

his boyfriend chuckles. "he's usually here on the weekends. i'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

as he turns to finish cleaning, bokuto settles down and opens the first volume. in his youth, he followed quite a few manga series but never finished them. maybe this will be the one that he'll see through all the way.

the art is pretty cool. the story is also about an underdog player who strives to win nationals in volleyball, which makes it better. he flips through, following the panels, making sure to appreciate the details before he moves to the next page.

it isn't long before his eyes grow heavy, and he loses focus. he blames the strenuous routine that he had for the last month catching up to him. lowering the book over his face, he lowers his arms across his chest, closing his eyes.

silence washes over him. slippers slide over the hardwood floor. a presence approaches, quiet and affectionate. the blanket slides over his upper body. the barest chuckle tickles the air around him. "i'm heading out now."

there's a kiss on the book over his face. then, in a whisper, "i love you. see you soon."

his footsteps retreat. a few minutes later, the front door opens and closes. that's when bokuto lets his blush overwhelm him, pressing the book against his face, kicking the couch like an overexcited high school boy.

that's who he is, though. keiji isn't the most affectionate person in the world, limiting his touches and love declarations. instead, he shows it through his tone, how he gently scolds bokuto for skimping on nutrition or going too hard on weights. he shows it by diligently picking up his call, no matter the time of day, and asking if he's eaten. he shows it by watching his games, wearing his jersey, proudly telling everyone that he's bokuto koutarou's boyfriend.

and bokuto is damn lucky to have him. he closes the book to press his lips where keiji did, smiling to himself. he's looking forward to tonight.

--

inspiration: this fanart of bokuto reading meteo attack!

[wejustvibing]

@wejustvibing

I...I'm trying to find the strength... and I'm also using a vocal transcriber.

You said you find the strength to watch this sport by being a hater, and I tried to do the same. My chest hurts even more.You see this feeling that is like you have swallowed melting glass. This is exactly how I feel by being a hater. I cannot be a hater. I can only ignore what doesn't please me. Because hate is too much of an investment for me.

These people cannot continue to play with my feelings. This is why you do not watch any type of sport. Too much pain. Too much suffering. As if the pain itself wasn't enough, you have... You have the fashion fraud and his client doing everything and anything. I am tired of seeing the combo of oversized with a little bit of cleavage or something, oversized trousers that are sweeping the floor, chunky boots. Change the combination. Change the silhouette of the outfit. Please.

So even if he wears, I do not know, leather skinny trousers, I do not care. Even if he starts wearing crocs with tights and maybe a football jersey, I do not care at this point. I want to see something new. We've got the braider who by now should understand that when they do big sections for the braids, it is going to be tighter and that smaller sections for the braids suit Lewis better. Or maybe Lewis is the one braiding his own hair, and like everyone who does, he doesn't want to spend too much time braiding his hair and does big sections.

Wow, this is long as hell.

omg 😭

4. oh he definitely has a braider who needs to be blamed for that shit every single day

3. i've stopped complaining about fits & "styling" and just his fashion in general. or at least i'm trying. it's a downfall at worst and stagnation at best but nobody is ready for that conversation. his words don't match the shit he's put in, most clothes wear him instead of him wearing them, it's lazy, it's unimaginative, it's repetitive, it's focused on instant gratification and heavily reliant on incessant thirsting, and frankly it is ruining the years of hardwork he has put in and the scrutiny he has endured. we don't want to see him in flamboyant clothes all the time but even the basics aren't ticked and it's just. hoping for him to be put in clothes made for his body type shouldn't be such a controversial opinion, but it is. because you don't want to hurt the sycophants and become a pariah (i'm guessing.) honestly, he's broken barriers in terms of paddock fashion but we're supposed to be satisfied with whatever's being served just because it's high end luxury. it just makes me sad. but maybe this is what he wants or maybe this is who he is—clueless about fashion

2. sports are an emotional rollercoaster, it's what makes them thrilling. there's always highs and lows and that's what makes them worth following imo but yea i get the frustration

1. i don't encourage you to be a hater of course. hating requires too much energy and dedication that i'd rather you invest in something you love 😭 pick whatever helps you to cope. if it's too much you can always take a step back or stop following the sport entirely. and i don't necessarily only cope with hate, there's so much stuff i ignore because you know not everything really needs a reaction and response. watching lewis win and just race still is the biggest draw for me and it truly makes me happy. so i rewatch old races. just to feel something. yes, the car sucks and his team isn't making it easier but there's new challenge and excitement coming up soon so i am hanging around to see how that turns out

[luffyvace]

Chuuya x gn reader ★

alright so there’s plenty of chuuya x fem reader and ik my males might feel tired of having to deal with gn reader- so i’ll be doing a x male reader version.

it might not come out immediately after this but i’ll try and get it done sometime soon ♡

ps: enjoy ;)

alright so i’m going with a reader that’s in the Port mafia

it’s highly likely your strong (ability or not)

if not very intelligent

so i’m going to make you chuuya’s new work partner

let’s say you got together because you were his ideal partner

with your beautiful (color), (hair type) hair

and your gentle (color) eyes

he also liked your personality as well

he liked the way you presented yourself

whether you spent hours making yourself look good or just threw on some jeans and a fashionable shirt and jacket to match

he likes your style

so with a little liquid confidence he confessed to you

turns out you thought you was handsome and charming

random

but

dont tease him—about anything not just his height.

he doesn’t like to be made fun of and will talk to you like how does dazai

maybe a little less aggressive tho

when you first started dating he’d flirt with you shamelessly

(but never at the wrong times, like a important meeting)

his pick up lines don’t always land but sometimes they’re a complete hit and fluster you, catching you of guard

he’s better with gestures when it comes to flirting

like putting an arm around your waste and bringing you closer

or smirking at you all sly

he really knows how to get your heart beating when he’s not trying too hard

but once you two are official..

he likely was never in a serious relationship with anyone before you so give him the benefit of the doubt on some things

i don’t exactly think he’s a playboy or anything though

probably found a few people attractive here or there

i feel he would avoid having flings because it would total his big bad reputation if they said something

plus if an enemy of the port mafia found out they could potentially use that against him

which is why i feel he prefers to keep your relationship private

he doesn’t want to feel vulnerable in knowing people could use you to get to him

although he’s confident in you

he feels if your strong you could protect yourself

and if your intelligent

you could beat the person trying to harm you psychologically

like with planning and timing

then they fall into your trap :)

just as you predicted 🤓☝️

😋

if your none of these things

he’s confident he’d be able to protect you himself

he’s always bragging about how strong his ability is anyway

”what idiot would wanna mess with gravity”

*insert cocky smirk here*

another thing

his love languages are gift giving, acts of service and quality time when he can

seeing as though your both members of the port mafia your both pretty busy

you guys try to make as much time as you can for each other in your schedules

which usually works since your partners and have a lot of the same missions

you cherish the simply quiet and peaceful times when you share them together

you try to make the night as special as possible

making pancakes together

(hopefully one of you can cook—he’s not the best at it, for the record)

going out for a walk and visiting your favorite places

shopping

lunch at some fancy place

‘he’s got it—it’s on him ;)’

coming home and relaxing, maybe watching a movie

cuddling and falling asleep

whoever gets up first runs the other a hot bath before dinner :)

and the other cooks once they get up

this is what i mean by when he’s not trying too hard

its romantic in itself if you let it come naturally

forget about the traditional roses and chocolates

quality time is the best time

for gift giving he gives you lavish and expensive stuff since your jobs pays well

but he’s still thoughtful enough to make it something you like/care about and use

instead of just shoving shiny jewelry (men’s or women’s) in your face and expecting you to be happy

sometimes you both forget important dates because of your hectic and random schedule

but you both always manage to pull through for your anniversary

you gift him lavish wine packs

and new tailored suits 😋

as for acts of service he’ll do little things for you if you’ve been more busy than him lately

like if you’ve been meaning to go shopping

but your job keeps calling you in

just give him the list and he’ll go for you

or if your having back pains he’ll hire a expensive chiropractor to help you :)

chuuya wasn’t made for boyfriend material or anything

but with time it’ll certainly seem like it ☀︎

i tried to make this something all brackets of people could read- i hope it worked :)

good day folks!

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 9: Welcome to The Magic Shop

*Genre: Mafia, Angst, Slow burn, eventual smut

*Warnings: Mentions of violence, abuse, and torture

Authors Note: I have risen from the darkness!!! To any of the readers who are in my tag list that are still interested, thank you so much. I completely understand with the inconsistancy but I promise to try better. Like I said in the alert, I really wanted to get this out before Jin’s enlistment, then Hobi’s and Yoongi’s birthday. But I was finally able to finish it before my own birthday. I’m so excited that it’s finished and I am so proud of how it came out. I do hope any who read this will enjoy it and be patient for the next. There is so much happening soon. If anyone is going to be going to the Chicago concert, I’ll be there and would love to say hello! Stream D-Day all, it’s giving me some new inspirations. I love and appreciate everyone. Please feel free to drop a comment, like, or anything. 

Tag list: @lolalalooo, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine,  @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22, @weiinihao, @hemmofluke, @rainbow-zebra-unicorns, @joyfullyobsessed-blog, @elvencantation, @thefreddieman, @whateveritis616, @crewzie-chan, @wyomingphantom, @killbillv1, @kyrah-williams, @utterlynuts, @ot7jellostan, @zahraaelamira, @shesaysweirdthings, @toriluvsfics, @emu007, @zae007live​

                                     Chapter 9: Welcome To The Magic Shop

          Jungkook loved the smell of the sea. It reminded him of his life before Bangtan. If he closed his eyes, he could see the sandy beach that was just outside his hometown that his family would visit every summer. He could almost feel the warm sand under his feet, the cool splash of the water, the sounds of his parents laughing and calling out to him. But when he opened his eyes, there was no sandy beach, and his parents were so far away. What he was looking at was the dark, murkiness of North Central Harbor, still and quiet in the dead of the night.

           Surveillance was not Jungkook’s favorite job; it left him too much time alone with his thoughts. He preferred to be as active as possible, surrounded by his teammates. But ever since the disastrous exchange with Choi and his band of idiots, RM had been giving him easy jobs until Jin cleared him of his injuries. He loved his hyungs more than he could explain, but they were smothering him more than usual. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the extra attention, like Jin feeding him his favorite foods, lounging against Jimin while Taehyung played with him, or even curling up next to one of his hyungs in their room. And there, he’d be met with slow backrubs, feather-light fingertips brushing against his skin, being babied and worshipped in all the best ways. But he wasn’t allowed to do any fun vigorous activities or be on protection duty because they were worried that he’d hurt himself more. And with Choi rearing his ugly mug again, Bangtan had been treating him like that little boy who had they had just rescued from the Royals ‘recruitment’ van, like he was too pure and delicate to help. Like they were scared he’d get hurt or taken again. He wasn’t that nervous fifteen-year-old who was unprepared anymore. He was an experienced, highly trained fighter who was more than willing to do whatever it takes to get things done. He was missing the rough side of their love. And maybe when he got home, he’d use those skills to pin his hyung down and show them that he was tired of the gentle caress and slow, over-thought movement.

           But for now, here he was, alone, watching ships unload things that didn’t mean anything to him. He had been stationed at the docks for three days since Namjoon got word from Jackson that something of interest was coming in. But in true Jackson style, he never gave more details as to what or when. Only that it was very interesting. The harbor had its normal ships coming and going that had no affiliation to be seen. Jungkook had been able to hack into the harbors scheduling system and downloaded the documents of incoming and outgoing details. But none seemed worth their interest. The only thing that the young man thought Jackson could have found interesting was the ship that had docked itself just outside the harbor. Jungkook had recognized its flag instantly. While the majority of gangs and Mafia families were spread throughout the districts, a few had chosen to go the route of modern piracy. Under the signa of a red compass, the Ateez crew had made a formative name for themselves. Bangtan had had a few tussles with them in the past, but Jungkook wouldn’t classify them as enemies. As far as he was concerned, the pirates weren’t affiliated with anyone but themselves. They were only out for their own interest by stealing, selling, or trading whatever their community needed.

           For the past three days, Ateez’s black ship lay still on the outskirts of the harbor, with the members shuttling over on smaller vessels. From what Jungkook had seen, they weren’t doing too much more than shore leave. But why wouldn’t they bring the ship closer? This couldn’t have been what Jackson was talking about. It wasn’t interesting. The maknae was so bored of watching the pirates go to and from the town, chatting on what dive bar they wanted to go see. They hadn’t come to shore since the previous evening. And he would have gone insane with boredom had it not been for Jimin and Taehyung keeping him up to date on all that was happening at the hospital. Taehyung had informed him of what all had happened between you and Yoongi and how upset you had been. And while his elder hyung’s behavior didn’t surprise him, he was disappointed that he had hurt you. Jungkook couldn’t really explain it, but he enjoyed being around you, even if he had spent the least amount of time with you since that first night. He found you to be quite genuine and nice; someone he wanted to be friends with. And it had been some time since he felt so comfortable with someone that quickly since he had first met Namjoon. Hell, he had known Jackson for years and still didn’t fully trust that he wouldn’t send his hyungs on a wild goose chase.

           Jungkook had seen that Taehyung had added you to the group chat before he was given his assignment. But you weren’t very active in it, making simple or one-word responses to anything directed at you and nothing else. Jungkook thought about sending you a private text after he had heard what happened. But he wasn’t sure if he should. You weren’t responding to Jin or Taehyung when they had messaged you over the last few days, according to them, so why would he be any different? And what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, how are you? My hyung can be a dick but don’t take it personally. I’m bored. Let’s talk.’ Yeah, that would go over well. Sometimes, he wished he was better at words. He hadn’t even been responding to the players on the online forum he was a part of who were wondering why he hadn’t been active in so long. His favorite opponent, ElectricLlama, had been sending quite a few over the last few hours. But he couldn’t very well tell them that he was currently on a stakeout and didn’t bring his gaming laptop. God, he was so bored.

           It was after 2:00AM when something started to happen.

           The Ateez boys hadn’t left the ship the whole day. Jungkook brought his attention away from a text from Hobi when the sound of engines firing up broke the silence of the night. While pirates never stayed in one place too long, something seemed off. The ship moved from open seas into an empty spot in the harbor. The crew had secured the ship in record time and started to unload some cargo. While this seemed normal, what they were unloading, and the twitchy way the crew kept looking around, was intriguing. It was no secret that the local dock workers were easily bought to unload the cargo and fake documents so they could easily blend into the rest of the ships. Of course, it wasn’t difficult since Ateez was known for bringing in high-end clothes and merchandise that most of these dock workers could only dream of having. But what they were unloading on their own was not high end; there were boxes of cheap cellphone accessories, anti-smoking products, and a few other random bits that just seemed odd for Ateez to have. It still wasn’t farfetched that Jackson may have been messing with them. Maybe they were just contracted to get random stuff for a high price?

           Then, a familiar black car rolled up that made Jungkook swallow his past criticism of Jackson. Yao stepped out of the car first, still bruised from their previous encounter. The Suit surveyed the work before moving to the back of the car. Choi stepped out, looking clean and pressed as always. And he was followed by another. The newcomer has their head down and hood up so Jungkook couldn’t get a good look at them even after he had moved closer to the scene. If he had to guess, it must be a new client of the Royals, or a new gang leader coming to partner with them. Or worse.

           Hongjoong, Ateez’s leader and captain, hopped down from the ship and came to greet them. The mullet-haired leader ushered the two towards the stacked boxes and opened one to be inspected. Jungkook had been taking pictures the entire time to send to Namjoon. He zoomed his camera in to see that the products in the box were indeed what was written on it and not some clever way to hide weapons. Choi turned towards the hooded one and received a nod of approval, before snapping their painted fingers. Yao responded to the newcomer’s signal and presented Hongjoong with a briefcase. Who ever this hooded one was, they had enough power to wordlessly order the Suits around. Once the pirate took the briefcase and bowed to them, Choi called out for his men to back a truck up and load the goods. And as quick as the transaction was, the Suits were packed and gone. Jungkook made sure to get clear pictures of the truck’s tags, the people moving them, and the boxes, and sent them to RM.

           So, he thought, Ateez is working with the Royals now? They must have been promised something big. But what would Choi want with such trash. And who was that with him?

           He didn’t have long to linger on that as RM sent back a quick response.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Great work, Bun. We’ll need to go over this with the others. Now get out there. You did very good.

           Me: good enough for a reward?

            Jungkook smiled at the text, knowing Namjoon would pick up what he was asking for. And if he said no, the maknae was not above going full brat-mode. He knew his hyungs well enough.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Well, you have been stuck out there for some time and been so good. What does my Bun want?

           Me: hard and rough? I don’t hurt anymore, and I miss you. The others don’t play like you do. They’ve been too gentle. Barely a make out session

           Rapmon-Hyung: Such a naughty bunny. I didn’t hear you complaining a few nights ago. And here I thought you like all that attention.  

           Me: But not like that all the time! I’ve rested long enough and been so good

           Rapmon-Hyung: We can talk to Jinie when you get back and see if he will give you the all clear. You’re not getting me into trouble with him.

           Me: I won’t tell him. I can be quiet. AND I promise not to bite too hard to leave a mark

           Rapmon-Hyung: Now we both know that is a lie. You can’t help it. I’ll ask later.

           Me: please Sir! I need you!

           That should do it. Jungkook knew exactly what to say to rile his hyungs up, knew each little thing that would affect them. He prayed Namjoon would just give in and not shut him down. Calling Namjoon ‘Sir’, even in text, always made his leader melt. Of course, if Joon drew the line, Jungkook wouldn’t push for fear of disappointment or even punishment. And not the fun kind. But if Namjoon said no, maybe he would switch his attention to Hobi or even Jimin. Sometimes it was easier to guilt and toy with them into giving him whatever he wanted. And Joon hadn’t responded as quickly as he had before. Jungkook was worried he was going to say no. Maybe he should have taken a less direct path, maybe wait until he was in person and tease until Namjoon lost control. Or a different tactic in general. Then his phone buzzed.

           Rapmon-Hyung: Meet me in my study and we’ll discuss what my needy Bun wants. And if he asks me nicely, I may just go against hyung’s orders and give him what he deserves.

           Jungkook could already feel his body reacting to that promise, practically hearing Joon’s husky response. To say he was excited was an understatement; if he wasn’t in public, and possible danger, he would have jumped up and danced in pure joyful ecstasy. It had been such while since he had been with his leader like that. The last time he shared a bed with Namjoon was a few days before he had been sent out with the others to the construction site. And even then, it had just been him curled up against his hyung reading a comic book while the other read his favorite psychology book. No sex, just being in each other’s presence until they feel asleep: it was nice and domestic, nothing more. But after all that had happened, paired with the heavy make out sessions and light touching that went nowhere fast that the others did under strict instructions of their resident medical professional hyung, one couldn’t blame Jungkook for being over stimulated and frustrated. And he was to meet up with Joon in his study? It wouldn’t be the first time they had gotten carried away. He could practically feel the surface of Namjoon’s desk against his back.

           Jungkook shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to clear his head of all the images a single thought spurred. He still needed to get himself to his motorcycle and get back to the Magic Shop. And he knew from experience that trying to drive it while hard was not a pleasant experience. He forced himself to think on the fact that he was going home, back to his own normalcy, and away from this dark, cold dock. He slid his phone into the back pocket of his black jeans and zipped up his leather jacket. His surveillance bag lay at his feet, carefully packed and ready to return home. He reached into the front pocket of the bag for his bike keys. Yoongi-hyung and Jimin-hyung had bought it for him as a birthday present, remarking how it fit his adventurous attitude. Jungkook had hidden it well amongst the covered equipment not too far from where he was stationed. He just needed to sneak back to it. Brown eyes moved back to the pirates, still milling about the dock. But thankfully, they were not paying any attention in his direction, too busy congratulating themselves and gathered around to look at the prize they had just received. It should be easy to get away. He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned away from the interesting, yet depressing site.

           Only to come face to face with one of Ateez’s high-ranking members, Seonghwa Jungkook remembered his name to be, who glared down at his with sharp eyes. And perched on top of upper railing like a cat ready to pounce, was the pirates’ most unpredictable fighter, San. Jungkook had gone up against San before, years ago when Ateez and Bangtan got caught up in a mild misunderstanding on territories. And from what he could remember, San’s was tough back then. He could only imagine how he had changed over the years. But Jungkook had been training too and he would love to see how they compared now. However, fighting was not on the agenda. RM had made that perfectly clear that he was only to observe, not cause trouble. However, if they started it, he was allowed to defend himself.

           “Well, well, look what we found here, San. A small, Bangtan rat hiding amongst the trash where he belongs,” Seonghwa said, stepping up to be nose to nose with Jungkook.

           “You’re a long way from home, little boy,” San sneered down. Jungkook almost laughed, seeing as he was two years older than the pirate.

           “To what do we owe the snooping? One would think you’d have enough decency to come make yourself known, like the gentleman you and yours always say you are.”

           “Yeah,” San agreed with his hyung, hanging further over the railing, “what are you doing hiding like a common rat? You’re lucky we didn’t shoot onsite. We sometimes do that on the ship when we get bored.”

           “And what a political nightmare that would have been for you,” Jungkook countered, shooting the cocky pirate a stunning look. “The docks are not under any territory. They are neutral grounds. Which means, you half-drowned idiot, I can be here for no other reason than I want to be. One might wonder what you’re doing here?”

         “Seems like you answered your own question,” Seonghwa retorted. “We are allowed to be here if we want too. Just here on holiday. Seas been kinda rough.”

           “Seems like more than that from where I was sitting.”

           “Ah, so you were spying on us. What would the other clans think about that?”

           “Nothing in the code says I can’t if I happen to already be in the area. I’m not blind, nor am I dumb. I was told there was something interesting and I came to investigate. And I found you lot and the Royals. You know how most of the Mafia families feel about that. Especially after what Choi tried to pull on our last meeting on Hallow Ground.”

           “Yeah, we heard about that. Shame,” yet Seonghwa’s voice sounded less than sincere. “And who said there was anything happening? We just had a business transaction. Nothing more. We have nothing to hide.”

           “Is that so? Then who was that with Choi?”

           “An old friend, I assume. My job wasn’t to question who I was meeting. If you were so interested, you should have come say hello. I’m sure they would have loved to have seen you face to face. The only thing I know about them, is there is something stirring up in the ranks.”

“Then as a business man, information can be bought. We can set aside our past for a price.”

“You’re money is worth less than you think. We wouldn’t stoop so low,” San snarled.

“But we will share this little secret with you for free.” Seonghwa retrieved a box of matches from his coat pocket. He slipped one out and struck it against his jacket, flame igniting with expert practice. Only to be blown out immediately, the smoke dancing around Jungkook in a telling way. “Misfortune is in your future. There’s a change in the air, whispers amongst some of the families, a change in perspective. Some of them are not too happy with how things are anymore. Not happy with how your little group has shifted the playing field. They say Bangtan’s all talk and lies. They’re starting to think that all that talk of what you did all those years ago with the Royals is all bullshit and that you paid for your allies to collaborate with your story. Especially with some new information being spread in the shadows. So, you best prepare yourselves. The tides are about to change and you better hope that you and yours don’t drown. Wait, doesn’t one of yours already have experience with that?”

Jungkook’s anger surged before he could control it, snarling as he pushed up against the smirking pirate. His fists were shaking as he restrained himself from breaking Seonghwa’s jaw.

“Watch it, tiger,” Seonghwa tsked in a condescending tone. “Looks like we struck a painful nerve. Tell me, cause we’re all a little curious. What’s hurts more to remember: seeing him under the water or hearing him scream after you guys revived him?”

“You better shut your fucking mouth,” Jungkook growled, teeth grinding as he tried to keep it together.

“Or what? You wouldn’t want to start a feud with us. How would that look to the masses you’re trying to keep on your side?”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t throw the first punch. But I’ll finish it.” Jungkook had promised RM that he wouldn’t start anything if he was discovered and act as diplomatic as possible. But the maknae was sure his leader would understand if he knew what the pirate had said. None of them would let that slide so easily. He knew the pirate was just trying to get a rise out of him to use against him. Though, anyone who knew the whole story would most likely understand. “You’ve heard what we’ve done to people who try and fuck with us. Hell, you’ve seen what we did back then. I can assure you, we’ve only gotten better. And we don’t need to pay anyone off. They know what we did back then. And we can do it again. So, don’t try me.”

“Well,” Seonghwa said, stepping back from the enraged boy, “from what our new friend can attest, you don’t know what you’re talking about. But who am I to ruin the surprise. Just remember the bigger they are, the heavier the smoke they’ll leave behind when all those lies go up in flames. You keep feeding into those stories your hyungs keep sowing. Meanwhile, we’ll do what we do best and ally ourselves with whomever can get us the farthest. Until we don’t need them anymore. Now, how about you run along home? I’m sure the Mad Leader will be wondering where his little toy is.”

“You wait, Seonghwa. Choi may be able to spin a web of lies that sound better than the truth. But once he gets what he needs, he’ll turn on you and wipe out your whole crew. He learned from Ji how to use people until they break. Then, he’ll move on to the next. Now that Ji’s gone, he’ll just keep the toxic cycle going.”

“Speaking of going,” San drew his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle that cut through the silence of the dock, alerting his crew in a practiced cue. Instantly, everything behind Jungkook stopped and he could feel more than a dozen pairs of eyes on him. They didn’t move, waiting for the next signal to pounce. Jungkook knew it was just a scare tactic; he would have been attacked up by now if that was the plan. And while he was certain he could take a few of them down, he needed to be smart. He had enough information for Namjoon to work with, and still promised he wouldn’t cause any trouble.

With a mask of unbothered ease, Jungkook waved off the pirates, grabbed his bag from his feet, and made his way away from the docks. The two only watched after him until he rounded the corner, then he could hear them laughing as they returned ship side. The sound rubbed the maknae the wrong away. How he wanted to wipe that grin off of Seonghwa’s face, especially after what he said. But there were more pressing matters. Jungkook stopped in front of his motorcycle, hiding amongst the cargo. He pulled it out and mounted up, bringing it roaring to life. It was time to get home and let Namjoon know what he just found. As he tore out onto the road, on a confusing route to throw off anyone who may have been trying to follow him to the Magic Shop, he replayed the interaction over in his head. Ateez had always been neutral, no matter who they fought against. Even when they had gone against Bangtan, the pirates made no sign that they held any ill will against them. There were so many neutrals who maintained their stance to only work for the good of their people. But it would seem like Choi and whoever the shorter person was had been able to manipulate Ateez into believing something that turned their allegiance. He could only hope that whatever Choi was doing wouldn’t spread to other gangs. Jungkook hoped Namjoon could make sense of it. He just had to believe.

                                     ***********************

 “I can’t believe you wrestled me away from the cashier just so you could pay for me,” you hissed at J-Hope with no real venom attached, trying not to smile at the situation. “I don’t think I can ever show my face at Holli’s Café again.”

J-Hope laughed at you as the two of you made your way out of the hospital elevator towards Yoongi’s room. He took a sip from his coffee as he bumped his hip against yours. “No, I can’t believe that you still won’t let us pay for you. It’s been two weeks now.”

“Okay, well,” you countered, trying to continue this game, “I can’t believe that you won’t let me use the money that you pay me. I’m pretty much caught up on my rent. I would love to actually enjoy it.”

“Well,” J-Hope said, “I can’t believe you don’t realize how much money we actually have. And how nice it is for us to spoil someone that’s not us. And there are more of our drinks here than yours,” to emphasis his point, he lifted the drink carrier in his left hand. “So, it only made sense to pay for it. And, if you had just let me pay when I first said, I wouldn’t have to lift you up and spin you away. So there.”

You sighed. “I can’t even win a word game with you. You guys have paid for everything: my food, my tea, this coat. One of these days, I’d like to use my pay.”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Those eyes may work on Jimin, but I have three boys at home who use those same eyes on me when they want something. I’m not falling for it. Don’t fret so much. Most girls love to be pampered. I mean, didn’t your old boyfriend ever pamper you?”

You paused just outside the door. You hadn’t mentioned anything to them about the past you could remember, let alone your miserable excuse of an ex. And why should you have? That wasn’t professional or necessary, no matter how friendly you had gotten. Thinking back to when you could remember, Daniel had been nice at one point to you but still never did anything like what they were doing. Sure, he bought things, but they weren’t specifically to be sweet once you actually looked at it. He bought you flowers once. But that was after he had said some nasty things to you. You couldn’t consider that? But hadn’t he taken care of you when you were recovering from the accident? Did that count? You weren’t even sure anymore. Surely your father had before the accident. But it was all a blank. But Amber must count, right? She had given you a place to stay, consistency, a friend. She bought you coffee sometimes but would let you pay, too. Or was that what she did because she knew your background or was it because she knew you needed it? It felt different.

“I don’t know,” you answered, slowly, as you felt his gaze on you. It was a calculating gaze that made you wonder what he gathered from your silence and expression. Taehyung was the same way on the first day. “I wish I could remember from before. I must have. But I can’t really say that I have. And I’d rather not think about my ex if you don’t mind. I’ll just say this whole having people be like this is a new experience for me. It’s a little weird. I feel a little bad excepting all of it sometimes. I know you all keep saying its nothing, but all these things must add up. I don’t want to cause any trouble. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just taking and taking like some parasite.”

“Oh, that’s not true. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up some harsh memories. I forgot about the…um.. condition. But honest, we like taking care of things. It’s like our love language. And after all you’ve done for us, we want to say thank you. We’re so used to each other just taking it that I guess we forget that it can be overwhelming. I’m sorry if we made you feel that way. But it really doesn’t bother us. Trust me. I forget that this can be a bit much to people who never had someone do these things. Back when we first got together, we barely had enough money to afford a one-bedroom studio and food. We struggled a lot in the beginning. I remember when we first got Jungkookie, it was around his birthday. So we scrimped and saved to buy him some graphic novel he had been looking at. He was so sad when we gave it to him because he thought we starved ourselves. But we wanted to make him happy. Even now, buying gifts for each other is more about what’s behind it than the gift itself. And it’s not like we go around buying diamonds and oil rigs every day. We are smart with our income. We invest and save. Hell, we donate to charities all the time. Anonymously of course. So, we don’t mind. But we can try to be more considerate of your feelings.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me buy lunch today?”

“No, but not for the reason you think.”

As he gave you a reassuring smile, you couldn’t help but think about what he said. Who had heard of a Mafia lord donating to charities or being so thoughtful about their gifting. There wasn’t much information about Bangtan’s beginning that you could find through the internet or newspapers. Did they really struggle? Was turning to drugs the only way they could survive? But they seemed so wholesome when they were with you.

You swung open the door to Yoongi’s room and were caught off guard by what you saw. There was a strong smell of chemicals erupting from the room. And Taehyung was snapping off a pair of used gloves, covered in something orange. Next to him on the table were a few bottles, gels, a mixing bowl, and an application brush. Yoongi sat on the bed, a towel draped over his head. The younger smiled at you as he rubbed the towel across his hyung’s hair.

“Hobi-hyung, Y/N, what do you think of my masterpiece?”

With a flourish, he yanked the towel away. Yoongi groaned, clearly over Tae’s dramatics, as he tried to smooth down his damp hair in a more pleasing way. His platinum blond hair was now a ginger color. Once it dried, you were sure it would look very natural against his pale skin. You tried not to stare but he didn’t make it easy on you looking the way he did. He had, also, changed into more normal clothes: a pair of jeans and a white sweater. His sling was on, meaning he and Taehyung must have done it after the shower Yoongi must have taken, judging by the residual steam coming from the adjacent bathroom. Doctor Na must had been by before you got there and removed the IV from his arm. You supposed the doctor deemed it unnecessary since Yoongi was healing quite well.

“Oh, my goodness, Hyung looks so cute! He reminds me of that tabby cat that hangs around the Magic Shop,” J-Hope all but gushed, running over to inspect Yoongi’s hair closer.

Yoongi reached down for a handheld mirror that was laying on the bed. “You couldn’t have made it black like I asked for?”

“We’re out of it. And with all the missions Namjoon-hyung’s been sending me on the last few days, I haven’t really had the time to order some more. So, I had to work with what I still had in supply. Luckily, I had some of this red left over from when I did Hobi-hyung’s.” Taehyung placed his hand on Yoongi’s forehead and tipped it back so he could stare down into the elder’s eyes. “Be thankful. I could have gone with the pink that I have from dying Jin’s hair.”

J-Hope gasped. “He would look so cute in that too. He looks good in any color. But with his pale skin and pink hair, he would have been our resident cotton candy! So sweet and tempting.” You were sure had Hobi been on Yoongi’s other side, he would have been hit with more than just a glare.

“Very tempting,” Taehyung said, “but I think the red suits you more. You definitely have the temper to match it. Besides, you always go black or brown. I think this makes you look so sexy. The guys are going to love it. And I needed something unexpected yet natural enough not to draw attention.”

Yoongi grumbled something that you couldn’t hear. But Taehyung laughed and released his hyung while he looked for something in his bag. His dark eyes fell on you and a tinge of color erupted in his cheeks when he caught you staring.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You snapped out of it. “I think it looks nice on you. Very suiting.”

“She definitely means sexy,” Taehyung teased as he returned to his work, combing his hyung’s hair. Now both of your faces were turning red.  

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your embarrassment. “So, were you a hairdresser before or just got bored and he couldn’t escape?”

“Hardly,” Taehyung laughed. “Just a street artist looking at a different canvas.”

“Taehyung always helps us when we want to change our look. He’s got an eye for it. Besides, we can’t keep the same look for long. The enemy would have an easy time finding us if we kept our hair the same for more than a couple months. Choi’s men will be looking for a platinum blond when we leave. This will help us blend in. They haven’t seen me since my color faded. And Tae can hide his under a beanie. It’s all pretty simple.” J-Hope handed Yoongi his Americano and Taehyung a hot chocolate before hopping up from the bed and picking up some items from the room.

You reached for the charts and looked through everything to get you prepared for the day, not that you weren’t already in a routine; morning medication with something to eat, followed by some physical therapy with Yoongi’s shoulder, then some down time before lunch and more medicine. Maybe you could convince Yoongi to get out of this room and go for a walk around the hospital again. He was already dressed in warmer clothes; perhaps he was looking forward to it. You left the room for a moment to grab the medication from the counter. What was odd was there were very full bottles waiting for you. Normally these were for when the patient was going home. But you hadn’t heard of Yoongi being discharged. It wasn’t in his file. You supposed it was a mistake, or it was just to be readily available for when he did eventually leave, and your contract was over. You took up the medication bottles and shoved them into the pockets of your jeans. Since the guys had insisted that you could be more relaxed in your dress code, you had dressed for the cold and donned a pair of warm black jeans, a grey thermal shirt, and the purple coat Yoongi had given you. You always had a pair of extra scrubs to change into if needed hidden in your backpack.

“Alright,” you said as you reentered the room and handed Yoongi his medicine for the morning, “after we get some food in you, how about we work on some new exercises for your shoulder? You seemed like you may be up for it yesterday. Then perhaps a nice stroll around the hospital wings again?”

You were met with a deafening silence and three sets of confused eyes that stared back at you. The three exchanged glances with each other, communicating with raised eyebrows and head tilts that meant nothing to you. But with years of practice, they seemed to understand.  

“What,” you questioned. “We don’t have to do that if you don’t want. I was just suggesting…”

“Did Namjoon speak to you,” Hobi asked.

“No,” you said, warily. “I haven’t spoken to Namjoon since the first day. Why? Did I miss something?”

Yoongi ignored your question and looked between the other two. “Didn’t Namjoon say he was going to explain everything a few days ago? Or was I high on pain meds?”

“No,” Taehyung dragged out. “Point one: you haven’t been that doped up since that time that Jin-hyung was so tired that he doubled our doses after the Big Fight. And point two: Namjoon-hyung definitely said he was going to tell her a few days ago at dinner. He swore he would explain everything and get it set up.”

“To be fair, it seems like he started to. But with all that’s been happening over the last few days,” Hobi interjected. “I mean, what with all the extra assignments he’s had to monitor, the conferences he’s had to deal with, the information Jungkookie came home with…”

“Not to mention Jungkookie…,” Taehyung smirked, only to have J-Hope reach out to smack him on the back of the head. You didn’t try to understand why as you were still trying to figure out what they were alluding to in regard to you.

“For a genius, he can be such a dumbass,” Yoongi groaned.

“Either way, he’s been a bit stressed out. We can forgive him for forgetting. He must have gotten his days confused and didn’t set a reminder to tell Y/N.”

You stomped your foot to grab their attention. “Please, can someone fill me in on what I’m supposedly missing here?”

The three gang members, suddenly, looked so small, almost like they were all trying to figure out how best to explain. You wondered if calling Namjoon would have been easier.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Look, I’ve been in this hospital for almost two weeks. That’s too long. And the longer I’m here, the more dangerous for the innocent people who are here it becomes. The Royals have been scouting out this place, just trying to get a glimpse of any of us. Not to mention you. So, I’m leaving today. That’s why Taehyung had to dye my hair quickly and make me look as inconspicuous as possible. I can do the rest of my healing back at the Magic Shop, under Jin-hyung’s care. Doctor Na already came in and said things were ready to go.”

And that was why the full medicine bottles were there, you realized. You looked about the room and finally noticed that all the things they had brought Yoongi was missing. All his papers were placed in a file, sitting neatly on the table next to all of Taehyung’s supplies. All of it pieced together in your mind. They were actually leaving. That meant that you were free of them, right? Your contract must end when Yoongi set foot off the property. Of course, you were relieved. But you would be lying if there wasn’t a small part of you that would miss them. Despite how you felt at the beginning, they had treated you very well and gave you a lot to consider. Though, there was main part of your brain that reminded you that they were purposely keeping their real work from you, the U4-1A part. You couldn’t wait to be free of that stress. You were thankful for all they had done and would take that as full payment for this ‘life-debt’ they kept saying they owed you.

“Oh,” you said, composing yourself as you would for any patient that was leaving your care, “I see. I didn’t realize. Well, I’m sorry to see you guys go so soon. Here, let me make sure everything is in order. I have all your medications here; the instructions are on the bottle. But I’m sure that Jin will know what to do. Let me double check all the paperwork before you go to make sure Doctor Na printed out all the correct things. I’m sure there’s no release papers since all this is hush-hush.” You made your way over to the folder and flipped through it, blind to the confused faces that stared after you. “Oh, he didn’t print out the instructions for your shoulder exercises. I can do that really quick. You remember how to do them right? I mean, you have my number so you can call me at any time if you have questions. It was quite the adventure meeting you. I hope the next time we meet it’s under different circumstances.”

“Wait, Y/N, I think you’re confused,” Yoongi said, grabbing your attention. “I’m just leaving the hospital for everyone’s safety. But there is still treatment needed. We are just changing locations. Besides, we still need to keep an eye on you. There are reports of Choi’s men still trying to locate you. And you’ll be safe at the Magic Shop. No one but us knows where it is.”

“Wait, what?”

Taehyung smiled. “You’re coming home with us. You’ve been promoted to in home care.”

“Your contract is until Hyung’s treatment is complete,” Hobi reminded you. “And all of this can be done in the safety of the Magic Shop. Don’t worry. Jin-hyung basically has a fully stocked hospital room set up with all the things you will need. Plus, it will be easier to keep an eye on you there. By the time we get there, lunch will be ready. See, I told you it wasn’t for the reason you thought.”

“I’m not so sure about this,” you said hesitantly, nerves suddenly rising. “I never realized that I would be working outside of here.”

“It’s going to be okay, Doll,” J-Hope assured you, dropping a new name for you that rolled off his tongue with such ease. “Everything will be ok. Everything is still the same. You’ll still go home afterwards. But instead of this boring hospital room, you’ll be with us. And we have everything at the Magic Shop to occupy yourself.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung said, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. “You’ll love it there. I’ll give you a tour. And the others are home, and they will love to see you again. It’s gonna be so nice. And I promise, nothing will change. We will still keep the bad talk down.”

“Please, Y/N,” Yoongi added, voice so calm, it soothed your nerves against your own judgement. “I promise everything will be ok.”

You met his eyes.  And just like every other time, you felt compelled to trust him. You couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was just a well-practiced trick he had acquired over the years. But that one part of you that wanted to believe him, clung to that feeling that he cared. The tension and apprehension left your body. You gave a defeated smile and nod, knowing that there was no use trying to disagree, and not just because of how you felt.

Taehyung and J-Hope made quick work of collecting the items and moving them out. Yoongi kept his eyes on you, trying to come up with something to say that could remove that defeated look you wore. He wanted to make you understand them better. When he had snapped at you when you had tried to ask about his past, he didn’t see the point at the time. After a few days, he understood it would strip the idea of this dangerous, violent killer that the media and public had described him. He had struggled with deciding on what to say, or if it would help, when to try and talk to you. But each time, he decided against it. While it would probably help, it wasn’t something he enjoyed talking about. Even Bangtan knew not to bring up certain things with him. Only Joon, who experienced much of the same and was there for him in some dark moments, was able to talk him through some tough nights. He needed to be brave. Though, he was still trying to understand the pull you seemed to have on him. He had been around many different sorts of people and none of them affect him the way you did with a simple look. No one else, except his own Bangtan.

While the other two were taking the last of their things down to their cars, you grabbed a stray jacket on the bed and helped slip it over Yoongi’s shoulders. “Mind your shoulder,” you said as he slipped his good arm into the sleeve. “It’s supposed to be cloudy and cold today.”

“We’ll be alright once we get to the Magic Shop. It’ll be warm and safe.”

“I can’t see how a shop that sells magic wands and trick cards is safer than the hospital,” you grumbled. He started to laugh, low and soft. You stood before him with your hands on your hips. “What’s so funny?”

           “You’ll see soon,” was his cryptic response. He reached out to touch the trim of your purple jacket. “Looks good on you.”

           “Thank you. Taehyung knows how to pick a good one, doesn’t he?” It was your turn to laugh at the sour look the crossed his face. “I’m kidding. You picked out a really nice jacket. I can’t thank you enough. It’s beautiful.”

           “Yes, it is. And so are..”

           “You two ready to go?” Taehyung was leaning against the door frame, pulling a black beanie over his grey hair.

           Yoongi praised Taehyung’s impeccable timing before he had said something he hadn’t realized. Thankfully, you didn’t seem like you had focused on it. You shrugged your shoulders and gave a defeated nod, still uneasy despite your joking behavior a moment ago. The two of you fell into step behind Taehyung as he swung the last of the bag over his shoulder and started down the hall. Yoongi couldn’t wait to get out of this hospital. But his joy was overshadowed by your uncertainty. He trailed behind you and Taehyung as the three of you made it to the elevator, and he could see how tense your shoulders were, the way you clenched your hands. He could practically hear your thoughts.  He had known this was going to be a difficult experience for you. Namjoon, Jin, and him had discussed it prior. Joon and Jin thought that with time, you would be more open to their presence and joining them at the Magic Shop would be an easy topic to bring up. But they were too optimistic. Yoongi knew about anxiety, and yours made his assumption very clear. While you were more comfortable with them during the schedule they had made, there were many safe places and familiar people. Now, you were going to be in unfamiliar territory with only them. The stench of fear and uncertainty rolled off you. If only Joon had remembered to talk to you before today, maybe they could have eased you into this.

           As the elevator door opened to the parking level, Hobi turned to the group once he determined the area clear. “Okay, here’s how we’re going to do this. Yeonjun has been scouting all morning and reported there’s been some Royal goons hanging out front. So, Taehyung is going to take the SUV and pick up the decoy we have coming out front. I’ll text Huening Kai once we split up. And when they follow them, Tae’s going to lead them in circles until they lose him. Meanwhile, I’ll take Hyung and Y/N in the town car. We’ll take the long way home just in case.”

           “Don’t worry,” Taehyung said, squeezing your shoulder in assurance, “this is the easy part. I’ll be there just in time to give you a tour of the Magic Shop.”

           You didn’t know what to say. All of this was happening too fast for you to process. Before you knew it, Taehyung was darting over to the familiar SUV you had used this morning with Hobi while you were being led to a car that was made to look like a fancy taxi. The inside was spacious with leather seats, dark, wooden finishing with soft lighting across the roof that looked like stars, and a partition that separated the driver from the passengers. The windows in the passenger’s sections were tinted so dark you could hardly see the other cars parked nearby. The windows were, also, thick with a shutter in between the panes. You climbed into the back of the car and were followed by Yoongi. Suddenly, your world was closed in, and you felt so hopeless. Hobi whispered something to Yoongi before shutting the door and hopping into the driver’s seat.

            After departing from the parking structure and pulling out onto the main road, all seemed like it was going well. There was plenty of traffic and other luxury taxis from you to blend in without a thought. In the light of day, you still couldn’t make a lot out through the heavily tinted windows. However, as you pulled around to the front of the hospital, Hobi pointed out Taehyung’s SUV was in place. You squinted and could make out the familiar frame leaning against the black car, waving at someone. As your car came to a stop at the light just adjacent to him, you could make out someone walking over to him dressed in a large, hooded coat with platinum hair sticking out, and holding his arm to sell the fantasy that this was Yoongi. Had he not been sitting next to you, you would have been fooled. Taehyung played his part well; he ran up to the decoy and hugged him, fussing and ushering him to the SUV while looking about for anyone who may be watching.

           “Will Taehyung be okay,” you asked as the SUV pulled away.

           “Don’t worry,” Hobi said as he shifted the car and followed the stream of traffic. “If the Royals follow him, Taehyung knows how to get away. He’s gonna have them following themselves by the end of it. He knows these streets better than anyone. I’m sure by the time we get to the Magic shop, he’ll be right behind us. Speaking of, I’m going to close up the windows back there. Nothing personal Doll, but we can’t let you know where we’re going. You understand, right?”

           “I understand. It’s not as if I already don’t know where we are. I only know a small part of the city. But I get it.”

           The car fell into an uncomfortable silence after that. Once the shutters in the back rolled down, the lights from above turned brighter. You wrapped your arms about yourself to keep from panicking. It was this same yoyoing situation you kept battling when it came to anything Bangtan related. Yes, they kept reminding you that they were going to protect you. But you still felt trapped. All the random turns Hoseok made were making you sick. From what you could see from the front windshield, you couldn’t tell where you were at. You hadn’t been lying when you said you only knew a small part of Central; you followed the same route every day since you had arrived. Central was so vast, Amber had told you it was easy to get lost if you didn’t know where you were going. So, she helped you learn the simple bus route from her place to the hospital, and from your apartment. You were already confused about where you are. And that didn’t help your anxiety.

           It only intensified after twenty minutes of twists and turns when Hobi’s phone rang. He announced he needed to take this and started to roll up the partition to give him more privacy. Just before it was fully rolled up, you heard Hoseok state, “yep, we got her. It’s going according to plan.” What plan? While a part of you tried to justify what he said, one part of you started rotating through every horror option it could come up with.

           “I can almost see smoke coming out of your ears,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the silence of the car and stopped all the cycling in your mind. “Everything is going to be fine. We already told you this. He’s just talking to Jin-hyung. He’s checking in on us. He must have already talked to Taehyung. You’re going to be fine.”        

           “You guys keep saying that. And as much as I want to believe you, this is so much for me to take at one time. I don’t know what’s going to happen, if I’m going to wind up in some locked-up room until this contract is up. And then what happens? It’s not like I can just walk away, right? Isn’t that what the movies get right? Am I going to get scared into silence or bought, or drugged, or…”

           “Hey,” he reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, “nothing like that is going to happen. We’re not the monsters here. Just calm down. I promise you’re not going to do anything that isn’t ultimately going to help you. Just take a breath and enjoy the ride.”

           “Oh, that’s so easy to do,” you said as sarcastically as possible. “Every time I start to let my guard down, I get thrown into another scary situation that just reminds me of who I’m dealing with. You guys don’t understand what I’m feeling.”

           “Sure, because none of us were ever forced into something. At least you get to ride in a car with someone trying to make it easy. At least you have people who are trying to explain it to you and show you some kindness. And ultimately, you have people who are changing everything they would normally do to make sure that you are comfortable. Your life isn’t broken and cut off; you still get to see those you want and go home at the end of the day. I would have killed for that. So, trust me if anyone in this car knows how you feel, even just a bit, it’s me. You’re allowed to be unsure and nervous. But know that you are in better hands than I was. You are much safer than I was.”

           He took his hand away and turned to stare at his own reflection in the covered windows. The car once again fell into an uncomfortable silence. You found yourself remembering that day in the hospital when you two had fought. You remembered him telling you that he didn’t have a choice and how angry he got. Maybe he did get it. He wasn’t dismissing your feelings as it may have sounded to any passerby; he was giving you a different perspective. You turned to look at him and saw him struggling with himself, like he was trying to find something else to say but nothing was working. He let out a deep sigh, coming to a resolution after a long moment.

           “I never wanted to do this. Never wanted to join a gang, you know. I really don’t like having to explain this…”

           “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you interjected. “I’m sorry, it’s been hard and I just couldn’t handle my own emotions. I should have taken those anti-anxiety pills Dr. Na wanted me to try. But please don’t feel like you have to tell me things just to make a point.”

           “Stop,” the command had no harshness or power behind it. It was more of a plea. “You had asked me before and I blew up because I was angry and thought you were just being intrusive. But once I thought about it, I figured it would help you see us for what we really are. To see we’re not what people think. This isn’t a fun subject for me. Hell, I don’t think I told the others until a few years after we all got together. I think only Namjoon and Hoseok knew the whole story first. It’s been so many years, you think I would be over this. But just now, I found myself struggling to find the words. But I need you to understand us. I want you to see why we’re here and that you are in safe hands. Safer than I was.”

           You nodded, giving him your full attention.

           “My family lived in a small town outside of Central. My family was poor but hard working. It was just my parents, my older brother, and I in a small apartment. My parents worked all the time just to make ends meet. I assume they cared about me. They never beat me or anything like that, but I wasn’t their primary focus. My brother could do no wrong in their eyes. Whereas I couldn’t meet their expectations. I would come home with B’s, he would have A’s. Nothing I ever did measured up to him. When he graduated, he told my parents he was going to move to Central and open a restaurant. They were so happy. After he was gone, they had asked me what I wanted to do when I was done with school. I wanted to pursue music. I had always loved it and found myself writing lyrics or playing on a piano that was in the lobby of our building. Yes, I was good at it. You can imagine how disappointed my parents were. They told me I needed to find something practical, a job that benefited society. They figured it was a phase and I would come to my senses. But I could never make them happy. After a while, they just ignored me. I think they hoped that I would drop everything to get their attention again. By the time I was thirteen, they had completely given up on me and just considered me a lost cause. I was just a shadow living in their house.”

           “I’m sorry you were made to feel that way,” you told him.”

           “The funny thing was, I was doing so well in school and everything else that I was in line for a scholarship to college, something my brother hadn’t done. My teachers were telling me that I was a genius, that I was going to make it. But there was still a part of me that wanted to make my parents happy. So, when I was fourteen, I started working odd jobs to help them pay the rent. I tried to buy their love and attention. My brother had written to me over the years, supporting my ambition and telling me how hard he was working. He told me once that once he made it, he would help me in my dream. And I believed him because I loved my brother more than my parents or music or myself. I was so stupid back then to believe him.”

           “I was fifteen when my brother had come back to our apartment. Said he was taking a break from work to come see us. He had worked in a bunch of places before using all his savings to buy a place in the high-end part of Central. My parents were so proud that they didn’t even think to ask how he was making it work. They were just so excited to tell the rest of the building how successful their son was. But my brother wasn’t ready to open this place. He didn’t know how to run it. He was in so much debt. He had sold all his belongings to try and save himself. When that didn’t help, he borrowed money from my parents, and they didn’t question it. He should have started smaller or keep learning for a few more years. But he ended up making a deal with the head of the Royals, Ji. My brother didn’t read the fine print where they were to be paid back with interest or they’d take it back in other ways. So, when he came back to our apartment, I knew something was wrong by the way he was acting. Ji and his team came banging on my parents’ door. I suppose my brother thought he could hide but they found him. They came barging in, breaking up the place, and began beating my brother. Ji planned on taking back his money either in cash or in years under his thumb as a slave. My parents begged Ji to spare their son. They were so desperate that they offered to pay his debt. But my parents didn’t have the money. But they had a spare to send in his place. I was younger, could work harder than my older brother, be a better asset to Ji than a broken body who could only cook and gamble away his money. My parents called me out and told me to go with Ji. They said, ‘if you love our family, you’ll finally be useful’. They promised once the debt was paid, we would be a family again. I thought they were crazy, how could they do this to me? But Ji decided he liked the idea. So, I was dragged out of the apartment, screaming and begging for them to do the right thing. But they didn’t. I was thrown into the trunk of a car and taken to their headquarters, where for days I was starved and beaten until I agreed to do whatever they wanted. That’s how they get people to agree to join the Royals, you know. You either die or join.”

           “You really didn’t have a choice,” you concluded with a shocked expression. “That’s awful. How did you survive all that?”

           “I had to adapt. I held onto hope that my brother would start working again and buy my freedom. I held out hope for a few months. But I gave up on them like they had with me. I needed to survive so I did whatever I needed to. I changed my name to hide myself. I learned to steal, shoot, intimidate people into giving me what I needed. And when I was weak, they would make an example out of me for any new person. Choi’s favorite way to punish kids was to beat them until they were on the brink then lock them in a freezer. He’d let you out just before death took you. They thought it would create this dependency on them, brainwash you into believing you needed them to survive. That was Ji’s philosophy. The other three generals were just as bad if not worse. Sol was the one who monitored everything for Ji, making sure it didn’t go too far. He was the one to go out and find the new ‘recruits’. Then, when we were being punished, he would whisper to the new ones how lucky they were to be with him and not with Choi or D or the other. Choi was all about physical punishment. D was sadistic. Someone said he went mad a long time ago and reverted to this childlike state. He made this ‘playroom’ which was a torture chamber, and we were the toys for him to use. He had a tank of water to drown you with, or things to stretch you. Too many things. The youngest general liked to use drugs to mess with you. Meanwhile, Ji would come in and make himself the savior, so you’d swear allegiance to him and escape the pain. I tried not to lose myself. I put up so many walls to protect myself for years. I never stuck my neck out for anyone because no one was going to do that for me.”

           “Then I met Joon. He was kidnapped from some club he had gone to on some school trip. He was so smart but also so dumb. I found myself in him, I suppose, and wanted to protect him. He was just a kid, not yet full of anger like me. And he was always watching and learning. I figured he could be useful. So, I would pair up with him a lot. And for the first time in a long while, I found someone I could rely on. He saved me from falling into the darkness, supported me. We, even, bonded over music together. I guess you could say that we became really good friends in that shit hole. We tried to run a few times. One time we made it to a police station. But Ji already had them in his back pocket and they were just as bad as the Royals. We were put in jail for a few nights before they delivered us back to Ji. And we got in a lot of trouble. But as long as we were still together, we could endure it. After a while, we figured there was no real out except advancing. So, we worked together to keep our real selves from disappearing like Ji wanted.”

           “So how did you get out? Did you just advance enough?”

           “I was eighteen when we finally got out. Three full years for me, two and a half years for Joon. We had learned a lot, had plans. But the one thing neither of us did was kill someone in cold blood. We had learned to shoot, but we had only been in fights where we had to defend ourselves. We had been teamed up with some younger kids to go collect some protection money from a store in the poor part of town. And Sol was with us to make sure we passed his test. The family didn’t have enough to pay and Sol dragged out their kid. Must had been no more than eight years old. Sol handed his gun to Joon and told him to shoot the kid to send the family a message. It would have destroyed Namjoon to do that. Despite what you’ve seen, Namjoon isn’t a coldblooded killer. He’s this big kid just trying to keep it together. And I’m sure Sol wanted to destroy that innocence. He tried to reason with the General, but Sol pushed him. Said if he didn’t shoot him, then Joon would take his place. I didn’t want Joon to do it, couldn’t see him be destroyed or killed. So I pushed Joon out of the way, took the gun, and shot the father in the leg instead. I tried to reason with Sol that shooting the kid wouldn’t make them pay us back, just make them fall further behind in their grief and that wouldn’t pay the bill. I justified that us taking mercy and giving the father a wound as a reminder would be enough. But he didn’t see it that way. He saw disrespect, an act of disobedience that the newer members would learn from. And weakness from Namjoon. So, I was sent to Choi for my punishment. I was always Choi’s favorite to hurt because I’d fight back or say something to fuck with him. And he wanted to be the one to put me in my place. He beat me with fists and metal pipes. Anytime I would pass out, he would wait and then start up again. This went on for hours. Finally, he dragged me to a walk-in freezer and locked me in. Either I would freeze to death or succumb to my injuries, or he would start all over again until I gave in. Unless Ji took mercy on me. He told me that Joon had been sent to somewhere where they would break his mind and leave him there. And I was going to live with that guilt forever. I can’t tell you how long I was in there, but I was so sure that I was going to die.”

           “The next thing I remember was someone shaking me back to consciousness. They picked me up from the frozen ground and brought me out into the detention center and started to wrap up the worst of my wounds. They even put a coat on me. I guess one of the Suits had a change of heart. Couldn’t tell you why. I didn’t recognize him at the time. Probably could now if I saw him. If he’s still alive. But he had told me he was proud of me for saving the family and my friend. Said he saw how I was still human after all that time. I remember telling him that I didn’t care what happened to me but if anyone needed to be saved it was Namjoon. I begged him to rescue him instead. Then he said to me ‘you two are so alike, caring more about each other than yourself. That’s why you’ll be a great team and survive’. He had already rescued Joon. He was waiting outside for us. The man helped us get out of the Royals’ detention center and through the fences that secured it. Once we were in the city, he gave us money and told us to never look back, to find our light of hope. After that, we met Hoseok, and he helped us hide for a while. Then, we started meeting the others and came to the same conclusion that we wanted to make sure the Royals couldn’t continue doing this to others. And Bangtan was formed. We started by intercepting their kidnapping circuit and freeing the kids, then their supply lines, then performing rescue missions. We started protecting, selling, and creating just to destroy them. The rest is history. We led an uprising, the Royals fell, and Ji is dead.”

           You sat there in silence, digesting every word he had said. You couldn’t believe what he had been through. And it made you want to learn about the others’ journeys. But it also made you realize how you had really been letting the preconceived image of them affect you. They weren’t these murdering, drug peddling thugs that you assume all gang members were. They had been tortured but still trying to do something against a greater evil. While you still didn’t approve of the selling of U4-1A, there was so much more to them than you had thought. You felt so bad for him for all the years he had gone through. No wonder he was so angry at the police when you brought it up. Had your father been around back then, you were sure he wouldn’t have been bought by that monster. And Yoongi didn’t have anyone else to turn to but those who had been in his shoes. There was so much more to them than you thought.

           “Did you ever see your family again?”

           His eyes shifted to you for the first time since starting his story. Of course, he had tried to see them again. The first time he had escaped he was almost home when he realized that they wouldn’t want him back. Sol had found him and showed him his brother’s debt, told him how his family hadn’t tried to come for him or buy him back. He, even, drove him to the apartment which had been sold not long after that night. While he had hoped that this was just some mental trick by Sol, three years had made it hard. Then after they had started to make a name for themselves, Bangtan had tried to have some closure with their pasts. He could remember walking on the dirt road to a small house that his family had moved into after that night when he was taken. Jin had pulled some records for him, not that he had asked the elder to do so. Hobi had driven him out there. Said it would be good for him to make amends or something. Actually, all of them had pushed him to see his family again just to help him close that chapter of his angry life. The others had reached out to theirs, whether for good or not. Yoongi remembered seeing his brother’s beat up truck out front as he made his way to the door and knocked on it. He didn’t want to do this. He was still angry, still hurt. He didn’t want to have a family with them anymore. He had found a family that actually wanted him. Why come back to this? Yoongi was about to leave when his brother had opened the door. After five years, his brother hadn’t changed. He looked tired and worn, but the same. But Yoongi looked different, dressed not in hand-me-downs as he had for years, but in expensive clothes he had bought himself with the money he had made from Bangtan. It took his brother a good minute to recognize him. It was the first time he recalled seeing his brother cry as he reached out to hug him.

           “Little brother,” Yoongi remembered him crying, “you’re alive! I’m so happy to see you!”

           “So happy, yet you didn’t try to get me out,” Yoongi had retorted, voice turned gravel over the years of anger and abuse.

           “I know, Yoongi. Trust me, I wanted to so bad. I tried. They didn’t make it easy. I wanted to get you, but I had to get things right. After all the medical bills and the move, it was hard. But I promise you I was trying. I never stopped thinking about you. Eomma and Appa are working but they are going to be so happy to see you when they get home.”

           “I doubt that. They were so ready to give me away. Why would they care if I survive? You can stop pretending like this was some mistake. I’m not here to stay. I just thought you’d like to know I got out without your help. Not that you were actually doing anything. I’m just here to let you know I won’t be around anymore, so you don’t have to pretend.”

           “No, please, it’s not like that. I swear, I was trying. They were trying. They knew they made a mistake that night. I didn’t know that’s what they did until it was too late. We wanted to get you back, but they kept raising the interest on my debt. Every time I thought we were close, it doubled. We asked them to tell you we were trying. We tried asking to see you, but they wouldn’t let us. I filed with the police, but they came up with nothing. Please come inside. Let’s talk about this. You’ve grown up so much, I didn’t recognize you. You’ve been through a lot.”

           “And all because of you. I took a punishment for you because of your stupidness. If you had just done what you were supposed to do, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have had my life taken away because I was the screw up spare. You were the screw up. But Eomma and Appa loved you more. I hope you enjoyed your life because I paid for it. Tell them the screw up paid your debt and is now going to be more successful than their favorite. Tell them that I don’t need them because they made me that way. They never cared about me. Ever since I told them I wanted to follow my own dreams, I was nothing to them. Well, they get their wish. I’m now a full member of society, just not how they wanted, I’m sure. You didn’t try anything; I saw the debt you still owed. So, don’t try to sell me this bullshit of how you tried or how you loved me. If you did, I wouldn’t have spent all those years in Hell. If any of you cared, you would have not taken that money or gone in my place like you should. For years, I survived beatings, starvation, and torture all for you. And what do I get out of it? Knowing that for all these years, my parents valued a failure over someone who had a college career laid out for him so he could be someone they could be proud of. Some family. And yet, I’m still doing things for you. Here,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope full of money, “I paid your debt for you. And I’m buying my freedom from you. Spend it, burn it, gamble it for all I care. But you tell them that I, the screw up who was useless to this family, made it by working harder than you ever did. And there is more there than you could have made in a year at your little restaurant. You know, the one that closed in a month because you had too high ambitions and not enough sense. Just had to make them proud and prove you were better than me. Well, now you’re the only son. And I’ve once again helped you out of debt. My final gift to you is a clean slate. There’s enough there to get you to a comfortable state. But if you waste it again, you won’t have me to save you.” He couldn’t stand there anymore. His anger was gushing out like a bleeding wound. It was taking everything in him to not break down. Because that’s not who he was in this moment. He wasn’t the younger brother who was upset with his family for forgetting him. He was the monster who was fueled by the hate of being abandoned for all those years. The person he had to become to protect himself. His members had worked so hard to help him, and this was supposed to be the clousure to help with his pain. He wanted to go home. He turned from his stunned brother to head back to the car.

           His brother grabbed his arm and turned him back, throwing the envelop to the ground. “Yoongi, please…”

           Faster than his brother could anticipate, Suga had yank his arm free and had his older brother pinned against the door frame, with a gun pressed under his chin. “Min Yoongi is dead,” he screamed! “I killed him because of you! My name is Agust, not Yoongi. Not anymore. He’s dead. Your baby brother is dead and gone. Only I remain to tell his story.”

           Yoongi snapped himself out of his memory and back to the present. He hadn’t seen or tried to reach out to his family since. He hadn’t kept track of them either. Yoongi had fallen into a depression after that where the others had to struggle to pull him out of it. But they were there for him, and they were his family. He hated remembering that day just as much as his time with the Royals. But Yoongi needed to remind himself that he had grown from that, and he was fine. He was not ever going to be abandoned again.

           “No,” he told you after taking a second to compose himself. “I know who my family is.”

           At that moment, Hoseok rolled down the partition. You had never seen this part of town before and were sure you had almost crossed into another country at this point. He smiled in the rearview. “You two doing ok back there?”

           “How much longer are we going to drive in circles? Pretty sure she has no idea where we are and if anyone is still following us, I’ll be surprised,” Yoongi asked as he slouched down in the seat.

           “Relax, you grumpy kitty. No one followed us. Taehyung thinks he had someone following him for a bit, but he’s been in the clear for the last twenty minutes. We should be at the Magic shop in ten. You ready to see the Magic shop, Y/N?”

           “I suppose I don’t have a real say in it. But I’m ready for anything at this point as long as I can stand up for a bit.”

           “Don’t worry, Taehyung’s really excited to give you a tour of the place,” Hoseok rolled the partition back up with one last smile to you.

           True to his word, the car came to a halt after ten minutes. Yoongi had fallen silent again, leaning heavy against the window. You figured that trip down bad memory lane had been a lot for him mentally. At one point, the car sloped down and there was a hollow echo as if you had entered an underground tunnel. Was the Magic Shop so well hidden from Choi because it was underground? But how could that be? Then, the car pulled back up and leveled out again. But this must be normal as Yoongi didn’t react to it. The sound of the road changed from the familiar sound of pavement to gravel before coming to a stop.

           Then, Hobi opened the door.

           You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t an abandoned, run down train yard paved with gravel stone and packed dirt with weeds. You weren’t sure where in the city you were, but this place looked as if it hadn’t been touched for years. Looking behind the car, you could see the road you had driven in on led to a tunnel that traveled under an elevated part of the old tracks that led all over the yard. Old, rusted strips ran as far as you could see with old, forgotten train cars scattered here and there covered in rust and age like a dead homestead. You swore you could make out a few people shifting between the cars; homeless maybe? There was a long chain length fence that surrounded the stretch of land with ripped and mended privacy tarps and caution signs. You could make out the words ‘condemned by order of the city’, ‘do not enter’, and ‘no trespassing’. Where were you? Looming ahead like a chilling shadow was a building to match the signs. It was large, an old attempt at a train terminal you assumed. The windows were boarded, there was rusted scaffolding leaning heavy against the exterior. The building must have been planned to be a grand travel sight with its arching roof and high clock tower. The three-story building had seen better days. The grounds were unkempt, with vines and weeds taking over. It appeared that the side of the building was covered in more fencing and tarps to hide its decay from the elements. Dead electrical wires lay broken against the structure. Bricks were broken or missing entirely. You could make out layers of graffiti from years of vandalism. And trash littered everywhere. The whole place was dying, taking a final breath before being forgotten by time. The sound of dogs barking echoed across the emptiness of the abandoned yard. You couldn’t hear any cars from the street or any sounds of the city. How far away were you from civilization?

           That feeling that you were about to be left for dead came back.

           “We found this place a long time ago,” Hobi said as he took a look about the place with a fondness you couldn’t understand. “Seokjin said that about seventy years ago, some rich bastard wanted to make a lavish station with shops and a hotel, where trains from all over the country could come. There were some drawings in some old records that showed crown molding, stained glass windows, marble everywhere. It was going to look like a palace when it was done. But there was a bankruptcy, or a fire, or it changed hands too many times, I can’t remember. But it was forgotten. It fell into ruin and the city sectioned it off. They were gonna demolish it a while back after some people got hurt sneaking in for a prank. But it was forgotten during the first big gang war. Now, it’s just an eye sore in this part of town. Not that there’s much around here. It was perfect. After Jin blackmailed his father, he bought it for us.”

           “I don’t think I understand. It looks like it’s about to come down. This can’t be where you live,” you said, hugging the straps of your bag closer to you.

           “Well, it wouldn’t be a good hideout if it looked like a mansion.” Well, he got you there.

           From the other side of the monstrous building, the familiar SUV came into view. Taehyung parked it by an overturned shipping container that must have fallen from one of the transport trains years ago. He hopped out of the car, followed by the decoy Suga. Without the tinted windows in the way, you were able to get a better look at him. He was young, much younger than you anticipated. Without the hood up or the act, he looked nothing like Yoongi up close. And he was taller. He had a boyish shyness to him as he greeted the others. How young did Bangtan start recruiting? Yoongi had been fifteen when he was taken by this Ji they had referenced before.

           “Any problems,” Yoongi asked, falling into his ‘Suga’ tone of voice you had started to differentiate. This was more authoritative, calculating, and colder. Whereas Yoongi was quieter and calmer.

           “Not too much. The Suits were definitely watching us. We were followed for about twenty minutes before I lost them in NCT territory. Baby Kai did his part well didn’t he? Trained him myself, Y/N.” Taehyung threw his arms around the boy, who shrank into himself from the sudden attention.

           “Tae, stop teasing him. Kai, can you take care of the cars for us? I think I saw Taehyun and Beomgyu down in the shipping containers. They can help if you want. Then start doing some rounds. I assume Soobin is still in the lab, so just do the basics.”

           Heuning Kai gave another bow to Suga before taking the keys from Taehyung and moving the SUV out of sight.

           “Can we go in now,” Yoongi grumbled as he ran his good hand through his now red hair. “I’m still hurt if you all forgot and would like to lay down.”

           “Sorry, Ahjussi,” Taehyung sighed, earning a glare from his hyung. “Come on, Y/N. It’s even prettier on the inside.”

           You wanted to question his statement- in fact, you wanted to question a lot of things- but he presented you with his arm and a boxy grin that compelled you to follow the three of them up to the large entrance. Off a small staircase to the concrete platform, there was a large set of double doors, highly embossed brass arching doors from a vintage design plan. There were wooden planks nailed across the frame that towered above you, making it impossible to open the door from the outside. Before you could ask what magic word they had to speak to get the door to open, Hobi balled his fist and knocked hard on one of the boards near the middle of one of the doors. Your eyes widened as a small square of the old wooden board swung open on a hinge. It was a hidden panel that hid an old keep pad and a doorknob. There was no seam, so they had to know exactly where to hit it and you were sure with years of practice, they knew what they were looking for. Hobi’s fast fingers typed in a code that seemed to have too many numbers before you heard a loud click that made you jump. Taehyung couldn’t hide his laugh and you could have sworn you saw Yoongi smile too before you brought your attention back to Hoseok. He gave the knob a quick twist before shutting the panel, and it disappeared from your sight as fast as it appeared.

           And a normal sized door swung open before Hobi, just as magical as the panel had been. You weren’t sure how it could be possible for it to be so well hidden. Hobi and Yoongi stepped in without a thought, disappearing into the inky blackness beyond the door despite the sunny day. Taehyung gave you a reassuring squeeze before trying to take a step towards the door. But your feet stayed rooted, too scared to follow. But he was patient, still giving you an encouraging nod. He stepped partway into the door, slightly disappearing into the darkness, and presented his hand out to you. This is so crazy, you kept saying. But there was nothing behind you for an escape and you had to trust them, right? You took a deep, uneasy breath, adjusted your bag across your shoulders, and took Tae’s hand. And he pulled you into the darkness.

           The door swung closed with a heavier clang than you expected that sent you stumbling into Taehyung’s arms. You felt his whole chest vibrate with a silent laugh. You held on tighter as the biting chill of the room set upon you. It must have been more than twenty degrees colder in the sealed room than outside. There were small streams of light flooding in through broken pieces of ceiling above you. As your eyes adjusted to the hazy shadows, you could make out a small entrance space with arching columns lining either side with broken benches leading to closed off doors that seemed just as sealed as the double doors you had just passed through. The floor was a dusty tiled mosaic that you were sure would have looked beautiful in the light from the glass roof and crystal chandelier had either of those been uncovered or well maintained. The streams of light seemed to all verge on the same thing at the end of the room; a small, caged ticket window that was currently occupied by a masked and hooded figure that made you gasp and hold on to Taehyung more.

           “See hyung,” Hobi’s cheerful voice cut through the suffocating silence, “I told you that old mannequin would be good there if anyone broke in. Gives the place a real haunted vibe. And it scared someone other than me and Jin-hyung.”

           Yoongi ignored him and looked back at you. Through the dim lights, you could have sworn he looked concerned about you. “It’s okay, Y/N. This is just the façade to scare trespassers away. Not that we have many anymore.”

           “Yeah, we don’t come in this way too often. We usually go in through the garages. But we wanted to give you the full show,” Taehyung said, sounding almost giddy, like he was proud of this.

           “Well, I’m officially freaked out. I’m supposed to be trusting you with my safety and I get a horror show. Is this why it’s called the Magic Shop? With appearing doors and haunted house effects?”

           “Not necessarily,” came the response, but from who you couldn’t tell as Taehyung started to move you forward. As you got closer to the caged ticket booth, you could just make out an old plaque hanging on it. You could just make out a few words, ‘Wanted to become your comfort and move your heart, to take away your sadness and pain. Open the door and this place will await, it’s okay to believe’. You weren’t sure what it meant but for some reason, it eased your fear in a way you couldn’t explain. The four of you stood in front of the sealed door to the right of the booth with seemingly no place to go. Hoseok turned to you with a grin.

           “Are you ready to see what’s next?”

           “I don’t think I have any other choice. So, show me.”

           “I’ll show you.” And he reached up and yanked on a dusty wall sconce that was shaped like an old hourglass.

           The door swung open into a huge atrium that must have once been designed as the main lobby for the massive train station. It was so bright from the stained-glass skylight that it took your eyes a moment to adjust before you could take in everything. The whole grand room was bathed in a beautiful array of colors, with dimmed lighting fixtures you could only assume would brighten as the sun went down. The room was warm and comforting. Compared to the outside that was modeled with a vintage flair, the inside was so new and modern. There was a grand stairway in the center that led up to the second floor made from white marble and iron that arched in a fine design. Where outside there were dying plants and rusted facades, inside there were beautiful, green plants and art work hung about that gave it a revitalized feel. Where you could assume based on their descriptions of what it was supposed to be, on the second floor there were three open archways that led into halls that may have been meant for shops and lounges, and down on the first floor there were passageways on either side of the stairs that must have led to the train platforms at one point. You could see a small sitting area just by the stairs, and another set of stairs leading down beyond it. Maybe those lead to the garages Taehyung was talking about. You felt Tae slip out of your grasp and step away, admiring your shocked expression as you took it all in. It was like you had stepped into a fantasy. All fear that you had dulled as you let the curiousness of the place overwhelm you. There had to be some magic at work for this to be possible.

           Before you could form a question, you heard footsteps echoing from one of the halls on the ground floor. From the hall to your left, Namjoon appeared reading a book, thick glasses perched on the end of his nose with his white hair messy and falling across his gaze. He was dressed in a baggy, white t-shirt and black sweatpants, a very relaxed homebody look that didn’t give off the air of the ‘heartless leader of a notorious gang’. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his other hand. Perhaps that way was where the kitchen was? Nevertheless, he didn’t really seem to notice you all had entered. Could they be so sure that no one would find them that this was normal? By the way that Hobi rolled his eyes and Yoongi gazed at the other, this seemed normal to them. They watched as Namjoon continued to make his way across the atrium, muttering the words on the page to himself in a gruff voice, the corners of his lips lifting in an amused smirk that you couldn’t help but find cute. As he got closer, you started to notice little marks that could just be seen from the laxed collar of his shirt; fresh bruises on one side of his neck and a few on his wrist. And on the other side of his throat, it almost seemed like there were faded bite marks. Had he been in a fight? Was that why you hadn’t seen him or why he had forgotten to talk to you? But he seemed fine now. He was all smiles and relaxed. Unless this was, also, normal for them.

           As he was about to walk past the four of you, he seemed to finally sense that there was someone else there. His warm eyes glanced up at you before he returned to his book. “Hey hyungs, Tae. Morning Y/N.” And he continued to walk, as if nothing was odd or unexpected. He made it to the main stairs before his body jolted to a stop and he slowly turned back to face you all with a look of pure confusion and dread. His eyes darted around like he was trying to search his brain for an answer to some many questions. His whole posture shrank in a sheepish way that was almost adorable for the large man. “What day is it?”

           “It’s Wednesday, Namjoon-ah,” Hobi chided. “You know, the day you decided we were gonna bring Y/N here. We talked about this.”

           “Shit,” the leader grumbled as he snapped his book closed and deposited it on the stair banister along with his coffee. “I’m so sorry. Things just got so caught up. I thought it was still the weekend. With all these meetings and Jungkook coming back from his mission. I was still waiting for Jackson to get here and give me the report I asked for. I lost track of time and got the days confused-”

           “You know,” Yoongi interrupted, “for someone who is revered for being a genius, you sure are a dumbass. But I guess that’s one of your lovable qualities.”

           Namjoon’s cheeks turned a cute shade of red as he pulled his glasses off his face. “Nice to have you home, Hyung. Y/N, I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you about this to make sure you were going to be comfortable with this. I hope the guys eased you into it.”

           “I mean, they tried. It was a bit of a shock. But I promise to get over it. I’ll make sure not to mess up your home. This is definitely not what I expected.”

           “It never is. Especially when you see the outside. Most of the time, we blindfold people until they’re inside. But we decided to trust you more. Since you did save Hyung’s life and all.” He stepped down the stairs and came up closer to the rest of you. You could see the marks better then. The bruises were definitely fresher than the faded bites on his neck. Bruises were something you were quite familiar with. The one on his wrist was more defined, almost resembling a handprint. “Sorry, if I had remembered what day it was, I would have dressed better. I just rolled out of bed.”

           “Oh,” you said, tearing your eyes away from his neck and trying not to blush, “it’s fine. I mean, this is your home after all. I don’t want to intrude on anyone’s habits.”

           “Don’t let Jimin hear you say that,” Taehyung whispered behind you. Even Yoongi snorted out a laugh.

           “Are you okay,” you asked, trying to sound as clinical and professional as you were supposed to in your role as in-home care. “Those marks look pretty bad. Did you get into a fight?”

           Namjoon’s hand flew to cover the deepest bruise on his neck, suddenly looking very nervous. Hobi put his hands on his hips in a very direct way and Taehyung leaned forwards over your shoulder, like they were expecting a very interesting answer from him. Yoongi eyed the younger man with a very intrigued look that dared Joon in a way you couldn’t decipher.

           “This? Oh, um… it’s nothing really. This is a… CrossFit injury. Yeah, CrossFit.”

           “CrossFit,” Yoongi echoed. “Really?”

           Taehyung leaned over to Hobi and whispered, “CrossFit, that’s a new nickname for Jungkookie,” which was hidden over Hoseok’s loud laughter.

           “No, really,” Namjoon defended, cheeks so red, “I had a CrossFit session with Jin last night. It’s a good stress reliever but can leave some… odd marks.”

           “Jin? CrossFit? Oh, this I have to see. Maybe we can catch an encore session? See if we can get some pointers?”

           “You guys, knock it off,” Namjoon hissed, voice raising in a more serious way that only seemed to encourage Hobi and Taehyung more. “Don’t listen to them, Y/N. They love to fool around.”

           “Us fool around? Maybe we should ask Jin and Jungkook?”

           “It’s okay,” you said, not really sure what all the fuss was about, other than the others getting a chance to rile their leader up after his embarrassment. “I think I’ve read something about that. That CrossFit can leave bruises on beginners if they don’t do something right. I’m sure the hospital has seen a few cases here and there.”

           “Seriously,” Joon had a look of disbelief on his face before he seemed to realize what he was saying. “I mean, yeah. I knew that. I read about it. That’s why I knew that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, what are you all planning to do? I should probably call Jackson and see why he’s taking so long.”

           “Yeah, nice save.” Yoongi pushed past Namjoon and started up the stairs. “I’m going to lay down for a while. No one bother me unless someone is dead or it’s time for my medicine.”

           “Hyung, let me help you to your room at least. Wouldn’t want you ‘accidentally’ locking yourself in the Genius Lab to work when you shouldn’t,” Hoseok dashed up and took ahold of Yoongi’s good hand. Yoongi growled something you couldn’t make out, but it made Hobi laugh again. You watched as they ascended the stairs and disappeared through one of the halls.

           “Come on, Y/N,” Taehyung said with a bounce in his step. “I promised you a full tour of the house. That’s okay, right Joon-hyung?”

           Joon looked like he was contemplating some factors that you didn’t know. You were about to suggest that Taehyung just show you where you were going to be set up and not bother with anywhere unnecessary, but he smiled.

           “I was going to wait for the report. But I think it’s fine. Just the main parts. I wouldn’t like to know what the guys’ rooms look like right now. Especially this grubby one,” Joon shoved Taehyung, who grabbed his arm with a playful wail.

           “Ow, you bulking behemoth! I’m so delicate! Besides, my room is immaculate. You’re the dirty one.”  

           “It’s called controlled chaos. And at least I know where all my stuff is.” Namjoon went back to collect his coffee. He turned back to you before he left with his arms stretched out in a grand manner.  “Have a good tour, Y/N. Welcome to the Magic Shop.”