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bangtanbeom · 24 days ago

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⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 4

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3.3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: LMAO I JUST NOW REALIZED I PUBLISHED THE WRONG DRAFT. i accidentally published a story draft about yeonjun i was working on but i wanted to post this one HAHAH OOPS. i blame the allnighter. taglist: always open! @saccharinezennie | @soobinz-wife | @mental-hollows | @bunniwords | @lonendly | @soobinieswife | @slipawaylrh | @taysfairies

the moment you shuffled into the office, coffee clutched like a lifeline, yeonjun's chair screeched across the floor as he launched himself toward you.

"well?" he planted both hands on your desk, eyes gleaming. "details. now."

you took an obnoxiously long sip of coffee, stalling. "good morning to you too."

yeonjun's grin turned wider—dangerous even. "you didn't text me back last night. which means one of two things." he held up a finger. "one. you were so overwhelmed by fake boyfriend's charm that you collapsed into a puddle of regret and unprofessional yearning." a second finger. "two. you actually had fun and didn't want to admit it.

you choked on your coffee. "or three. i was tired and forgot."

"liar." he swiped your muffin from the desk, taking a big bite. "spill. how was the double date."

you slumped into your chair, rubbing your temples. "it was... fine. beomgyu is a menace. his girlfriend is terrifying. soobin—"

yeonjun's eyebrows shot up, his lips stretching into a teasing grin. "what'd he do? hold your hand? feed you food?"

"oh my god." you buried your face in your hands. "it was practice. we acted like a couple. that's literally the whole point."

yeonjun's smirk softened, just a fraction. "and?"

you hesitated. the truth was, last night hadn't been awful. once you stopped flinching every time soobin touched you, it had almost felt... natural. the way his hand settled on your waist, the stupid little pet names—it was all part of the act.

and then there was tomorrow.

the get-together. your ex. the thought of sitting across from him again, watching his sharp eyes dissect every interaction between you and soobin, made your stomach twist.

you hadn't told anyone the worst of it—how your ex would smile sweetly in public, then snap behind closed doors. how his voice would turn to ice if you dared to disagree with him, or how he'd punch and throw anything he could find whenever something didn't go as he'd wanted to.

and when he cheated—he'd made it sound like your fault.

"you're so distant, what did you expect?"

"hey." yeonjun flicked your forehead. "you're overthinking."

you batted his hand away. "i'm preparing. the dinner is tomorrow, and if i mess up, my ex gets the satisfaction of watching me fail. again."

yeonjun's teasing demeanor faded. "you're not failing. you're rebounding—just you know, with a paid professional."

"ugh," you groaned. "that's not better."

"it's strategic."

he stole another bite of your muffin. "look. you hired soobin because he's good at this. trust him. and for the love of god, stop imagining worst-case scenarios."

you picked at the edge of your desk. "what if my ex sees right through it?"

"then soobin will lie harder. that's his job."

"what if i freeze up?"

"then soobin will thaw you out. probably with something more—a kiss, maybe."

you shot him a glare.

yeonjun sighed, uncharacteristically serious. "listen. you're not the same person you were when your ex left. and tomorrow? you're going to walk in there with a guy who looks at you like you hung the damn moon—fake or not—and your ex is gonna choke on his jealousy." he leaned in, lowering his voice. "and when he tries that manipulative bullshit, soobin won't let it slide. that's the difference."

soobin's car idled at the curb, its sleek black exterior gleaming under the amber glow of the streetlights. the low hum of the engine blended with the murmur of pedestrians. he leaned against the hood one foot propped on the bumper, scrolling through his phone with his free hand tucked into the pocket of his—

oh.

light-wash jeans, just like yours. he'd paired them with a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. casual, but put-together.

you tugged at your own jeans, suddenly hyper-aware of the matching denim, the bracelet on your wrist, the necklace you'd fiddled with all day.

his head snapped up the second your shoes hit the pavement, his gaze tracking you as you approached. you watched his eyes flicker—over the bracelet, the matching jeans, the way your fingers kept straying to the necklace around your neck—and something unreadable passed over his face.

"wow," he said, pushing himself off the car with a grin. "we do look disgustingly coordinated."

you crossed your arms. "i didn't realize you'd be dressed like this."

"like what?" he gestured down at himself, feigning innocence. "devastatingly handsome?"

"like we planned it." you narrowed your eyes. "did you hack my closet?"

he laughed, shaking his head. "nah. just good instincts." his gaze flicked to your nervous fingers fiddling with your necklace. "you okay?"

"great." you exhaled sharply. "just mentally preparing to face my ex with his new girlfriend while pretending the love of my life—" you gestured at him. "��isn't a paid professional."

soobin's expression softened. he stepped closer, his voice dropping. "hey. look at me."

you did. his eyes were steady, warm.

"i've got you," he said, simple and sure. "no matter what happens in there, i'm not letting him get to you."

something in your chest tightened.

it's just a part of the act, you reminded yourself. but the way he said it—like it was more than that—made you second-guess everything.

you swallowed hard, breaking the eye-contact. "you better be worth the money."

he smirked. "oh i am." he said as he opened the car door for you.

the car smelled different.

the faint scent of coffee that used to linger in the air—from the last time—was now replaced by a faint scent of mint and something sweet, vanilla, his cologne, maybe. the half-empty pack of gum replaced by a new full pack, neatly placed in his car.

somehow, it felt different, not as personal as the last time, like he'd scrubbed away every trace of himself—facade.

everything was a facade.

the realization slithered down your spine. of course he'd erased the traces of practice soobin. tonight wasn't practice. tonight was performance soobin—polished, professional, paid.

the dashboard lights cast a soft blue glow over the console, illuminating the sleek lines of the gearshift and the subtle curve of soobin's knuckles as he tapped the steering wheel. outside, the city blurred past—neon signs, flickering traffic lights, the occasional flash of headlights cutting through the setting evening.

the silence in the car stretched, thick with unspoken tension. you fiddled with the edge of your sleeve, the fabric rough under your fingertips, grounding you in the moment.

soobin's voice cut through the quiet, softer than you expected. "nervous?"

you exhaled sharply, fingers stilling. "is it that obvious?"

soobin's gaze lingered on your fingers, still fidgeting with your bracelet. without a word, he reached over and gently pried your hand away, turning it palm-up in his. his thumb tracing slow circles over the palm of your hand. "you've adjusted your bracelet seven times since we got in the car."

your breath hitched. the warmth of his touch was too real, too steady—but you didn't pull away.

was this also part of the act?

heat creeping up your neck. "obsessive much?"

"professional habit." he smirked, but there was something gentler beneath it. "look, we've practiced. you're good at this."

"at lying?"

"at surviving." his fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. "and for the record? you're not the one who should be nervous tonight?"

you frowned. "what's that supposed to mean?"

soobin's grin widened. "it means your ex is about to watch you move on. and i don't care how 'over it' he claims to be—that always stings."

the certainty in his voice made your breath catch. you studied his profile—the way his lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, the stubborn set of his mouth. he sounded like he spoke from experience.

the restaurant approached, its glowing sign casting long shadows across the pavement. your stomach lurched.

soobin parked, then turned to you, "last chance to bail. we could fake a car crash. food poisoning. sudden amnesia."

you chuckled softly. "tempting."

"but?"

you shot him a glare. "letting you keep the deposit? never." you said and straightened your posture. "let's go."

soobin's grin was sharp. approving. he stepped out of the car, rounding to your side to open the door for you. as you stood, his hand settled at your lower back—a silent promise.

i'm here.

the warm, garlic air of the restaurant wrapped around you like a familiar blanket as you stepped through the entryway, the laminated menu boards clattering slightly against the wall from the kitchen's bustle. the scent of caramelizing bulgogi and spiced stews mingled with the sharp tang of soju being poured at nearby tables.

your fingers twitched at your side until soobin's palm settled against your lower back—his touch firm through the thin fabric of your blouse, the heat of it seeping into your skin.

then you saw him.

seated at the far table like he belonged there, his arm slung casually over the back of his new girlfriend's chair. the same way he used to sit with you, before his words turned sharp with frustration, his smiles became weapons. he hadn't noticed you yet, too busy tipping his head back to laugh at something jia said, the curve of his throat exposed in the golden light.

an ache bloomed behind your ribs. not longing—just the old, familiar sting of betrayal, the ghost of his voice slithered through your memory.

"it was a mistake, but you pushed me away first."

your nails bit into your palms. why was he still here? why did no one else see how he carved you open and called it love?

soobin leaned down, his breath grazing your ear. "breathe," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. his fingers softly touching your chin, lifting your face toward his. "eyes on me, not him."

he lowered his hand and rested his hand on your lower back, but the tingling sensation still lingered on your chin where his fingers touched.

you sucked in a breath—just as mina spotted you.

her iced americano sloshed dangerously as she slammed both hands on the wooden tabletop, the metal legs screeching against the floor. "oh my god!" the entire restaurant seemed to pause at her outburst before resuming their meals with amused smiles. "you're finally here."

jia merely smiled, but the way her fingers tightened around her water glass gave away her excitement.

and your ex—his gaze snapped to you, that infuriating smirk already plastered on his face, but when his eyes flicked to soobin, something flickered in his expression. a twitch in his jaw.

soobin's hand slid from your back to your waist, pulling you closer. his voice was warm velvet. "hi, i'm soobin. her boyfriend."

"well," your ex drawled, leaning back in his chair. "aren't you full of surprises?"

the table fell silent. mina's eyes darted between you and soobin like she was watching a tennis match. jia sipped her water, but you didn't miss the way her foot tapped impatiently under the table.

the word boyfriend landed like a grenade.

jia's eyebrows shot up. your ex's girlfriend offered a sweet smile.

mina squealed. "you—he—you!" she pointed wildly between you and soobin. "you didn't tell us he was this hot!"

you groaned, cheeks burning. "mina, please—"

"no, no, she's right," jia said, lips twitching. "you undersold him."

soobin smirked, leaning in just slightly—close enough that his breath brushed your ear. "should i be offended?" he murmured.

"don't let it get to your head." the elbow you aimed at his ribs only made him laugh, the sound rich and warm like honey.

your ex's smirked, but his knuckles whitened around his chopsticks. "interesting. how long has this been going on?"

"two months," you said smoothly, reaching for soobin's free hand. his fingers laced through yours, warm and safe. liar, his grip seemed to say. but i've got you.

your ex's gaze dropped to your joined hands. "funny. you never mentioned him before."

soobin pulled out your chair for you—smooth, practiced—before sliding into the seat beside you. his knee brushed yours under the table, warm and grounding.

"funny," you countered, "how you never mentioned her until after i caught you."

the tension at the table stretched. mina's eyes widened while jia choked on her water.

then your ex laughed, sharp and shallow. "still holding onto that? move on, babe."

the old pet name slithered under your skin. babe. the same word he'd hissed through his teeth the night he threw a glass against the wall because you'd dared to question him.

but before you could flinch. soobin's hand covered yours, his thumb pressing into your pulse point—a silent counter to the rhythm of your racing heart. "she has," he said, smiling like he knew a secret. "she has me now."

"so..." mina leaned forward, trying to break the tension. "details. now. how did you two meet?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

you opened your mouth, but soobin beat you to it.

"we fought over a book," he said grinning.

"a book?" mina shrieked. "that's so cute."

"she elbowed me out of the way," soobin added, nudging your shoulder.

"i did not!" you protested, but he just smirked.

"you absolutely did."

mina clutched her cheeks. "this is the best love story i've ever heard."

jia tilted her head. "what's your job, are you a model?"

soobin laughed, the sound warm and gentle. "i'm a graphic designer," soobin answered easily, his fingers lacing with yours on the table. a show of affection, a calculated move. but his thumb brushed your knuckles—soft, reassuring.

"and you've been keeping him a secret?" mina gasped. "unforgivable."

you laughed, nerves easing steadily. "we wanted to take it slow."

"slow?" mina scoffed. "look at him. i would've married him on sight."

soobin laughed—warm, rich, the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads. "i like your friends," he murmured to you, his shoulders bumping yours, it felt alarmingly easy—maybe a little too easy.

you rolled your eyes yet the chuckle that escaped from your lips betrayed you.

"soobin," your ex said, putting down his beer after taking a sip. "how'd you win her over? she's... particular."

soobin didn't miss a beat. he turned to you, his expression softening in a way that made your stomach flip. "she elbowed me for a book. how could i resist?"

mina sighed dreamily. your ex's smile tightened.

and you—you almost forgot it was all an act.

until your ex's girlfriend leaned forward. "you're so cute together! can i see a couple photo?"

shit.

you stiffened. you and soobin had rehearsed touches, backstories, pet names—but not this.

but soobin just chuckled, pulling out his phone. "of course." he tilted the screen toward you and there it was—a selfie from your 'date' at the bookstore, his cheek pressed to yours while your eyes were closed, your noses scrunched in laughter.

when had he taken that?

"adorable," the girls cooed.

soobin grinned, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "i got lucky."

the table buzzed with laughter, the clatter of chopsticks against the plates, the warm hum of conversation. you were halfway through your bulgogi when your ex leaned forward, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass.

"so, soobin," he said, swirling his soju glass lazily. "you must have the patience of a saint. she's not exactly the easiest to date."

the words slithered under your skin, familiar and venomous. your fingers tightened around your chopsticks, knuckles whitening—

then, warmth.

soobin's hand settled on your knee under the table, his palm broad and steady, his thumb tracing a slow, soothing circle against the inside of your thigh. not possessive, not performative—just there. a silent i see you, lean on me.

you exhaled, your shoulders loosening by degrees.

when you dared to glance at him, soobin wasn't even looking at you. he was smiling at your ex, easy and unbothered, as if his hand wasn't burning a brand into your skin.

"i disagree," soobin said, his voice light. "i've only ever found her... effortless."

his fingers squeezed once—gentle, grounding—before retreating, but the heat of his touch lingered long after, a phantom weight that left your pulse fluttering like a trapped bird.

you were halfway through your meal when soobin leaned over, his chopsticks hovering near your plate.

"can i try that?" he asked, nodding toward your food.

you nodded, but before you could push the plate toward him, he plucked a strand of noodles directly from your bowl.

"hey—" you started, but he was already lifting it toward your lips instead of his own.

"open up," he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

rolling your eyes, you obliged—but the moment your lips closed around the bite, his fingers lingered. the pad of his thumb brushed your lower lip, just a second too long, too long it seemed almost intentional.

your breath hitched.

soobin's gaze flickered down to your mouth, then back up—slow, deliberate. a silent question hung between you, one you weren't sure how to answer.

neither of you pulled away.

mina gasped. "oh my god,"

the spell broke.

soobin leaned back, smirking, but his fingers flexed slightly—like he was resisting the urge to reach for you again.

the restaurant hummed with laughter and clinking glasses. the interrogation from mina and jia, catching up with some other friends, the occasional back-handed comments from your ex while his girlfriend was staring at soobin.

you needed air.

excusing yourself, you slipped away to the bathroom, the chatter fading behind you. the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as you splashed cold water onto your face, staring at your reflection.

a sigh escaping from your lips, your eyes tracing every detail in your reflection.

just a little longer.

then you stepped into the hallway—

the hallway air turned to syrup as your ex cornered you, his familiar cologne suddenly suffocating.

"two months?" his laugh was like a knife dragged along your ribs. "you expect me to believe you just happened to move on that fast?" he jerked his chin toward the dining room where the others sat.

your fingers found the cold tile wall behind you. "some of us don't need years to recognize something real."

his smile died. that's when the door swung open.

soobin filled the doorway like a storm rolling in, his dress shirt sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing the tense cord of his forearms. he didn't speak. didn't need to. the way he looked at your ex—like he was measuring the distance to break his nose—made your breath catch.

"problem?" soobin's voice was dangerously quiet.

your ex stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "just catching up with an old friend." the word dripped venom.

one moment soobin was in the doorway. the next, his palm cradled your cheek, his other arm bracing against the wall behind you, caging you in—not trapping, but sheltering. his body radiated heat, his breath brushed your lips.

his eyes searched yours—was it concern? possession? pity?

your heart slammed against your ribs. your world narrowed to the space between you, to the smooth pads of his fingers at your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin, the fragile tremble in his hand.

his gaze flicked to your lips. you didn't think. you couldn't.

you reached up and answered by fisting your hands in his shirt.

the kiss ruined you.

it wasn't careful. it wasn't clean—not like his usual professional behavior. his lips met yours in a crush—urgent, clumsy, real.

his hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen it, and then his other arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer like he couldn't stand even an inch between you. his chest pressed against yours, and you felt it—felt him—his heart hammering just as wildly.

your mind spun, trying to make sense of it. this wasn't in the script. this wasn't a scene you'd rehearsed.

was the kiss even necessary?—why did you give in?

and god, the way his teeth caught your bottom lip like he'd been thinking about it, dreaming about it—

you were drowning in it.

a part of you kept screaming stop, this is too much, this isn't pretend anymore, but your body refused to listen. his hands on your back trembled. his mouth gentled for a fraction of a second, like he was pulling back—

then the hallway door creaked open.

"oh my god."

mina's shriek stabbed through the haze. you tore away like you'd both been caught stealing something sacred.

soobin didn't step back—he just rested his forehead against yours his chest heaving. you stared at each other, too close, too exposed, his thumb brushed your cheek, a whisper of a touch.

behind him, your ex stood frozen, the blood drained from his face, dragging his feet across the floor, walking behind mina, both of them exiting the hallway.

your fingers trembled where they still clutched soobin's waistband. the daze in his eyes—like he'd just realized something—sent your heart into a freefall.

the silence was deafening.

"sorry," soobin murmured. "that, wasn't part of the plan."

you swallowed hard. "no. it wasn't"

his thumb brushed your cheekbone again, slow questioning. "did i—" he hesitated. "was that okay?"

your pulse stuttered.

was it okay?

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

#next one will probably be the last part #soobin #choi soobin #soobin au #soobin fic #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt au #soobin x female reader #soobin x you #txt fic #tubatu

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sugary-strawberry-shortcake · 6 days ago

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Where You Are, I’m Home

a Kim Taehyung one shot.

Summary:

After a long year serving in South Korea’s elite Special Duty Team, Kim Taehyung finally comes home—to her. The girl he left behind. The one who waited. But while their love is still there, so is everything the military changed in him.

A/N: this is so foreign in comparison to what I usually post. But I had to do so for the 13-year-old girl inside of me who‘s obsessed with BTS. Is it impossible for me to get concert tickets after their break? Yeah. Will I stop fantasizing? Never😓

btw this is romance so no platonic at all.

TW: ptsd mentions, men being disgusting, no smut (I would never write that) but mentions of them having done it, also I do not know how the military is like it’s just my imagination :)

Still unedited! Sometimes I used different narratives oops

And I will continue Blossom reverse, just going through drafts :)

The morning air was biting cold despite the spring sun trying to climb over the rooftops, pale gold light sifting through clouds like fingers reaching gently for something long-lost. Y/N waited just outside the security gates, her hands shoved into the sleeves of her oversized cardigan, her heart beating louder than the wind.

He was supposed to arrive around 8:00 a.m.

It was 7:53.

The young woman shifted on her feet, the white soles of her sneakers scuffing against the ground. Her body was still, but her mind wasn’t. She could still hear his voice from the last phone call three nights ago — deep, gravel-lined from exhaustion and distance. Even then, even through the crackling line and all the military-coded short phrases, he still said:

“I’ll be different when I come back, jagi. Not in a bad way. Just… older. Don’t be surprised.”

She didn’t fully understand what he meant. She had visited him, yes, a few times — brief weekends that vanished in a blink. And there were nights she’d fall asleep with her phone on her chest, his voice the last sound in her ear, muffled by static and time. But now, it was different.

Now, he was coming home for good.

The woman didn’t cry. Not yet. But her chest was tight — like something had been wound inside her since the day he left, and now it was slowly, painfully starting to unwind.

The base gates opened.

And then she saw him.

Uniform pressed. Boots shining. That familiar black beret angled perfectly atop his head — a symbol of what he’d endured, what he’d survived. But none of that struck you as hard as him.

Kim Taehyung had always been beautiful — honey skin, sleepy eyes, voice like velvet and thunder. The man of her dreams. But now…

Now he was different.

Broader shoulders, thicker arms that stretched the fabric of his uniform tight across his biceps. His jawline had hardened, more angular than she remembered, more man than boy now. His expression was unreadable — composed, still, almost too still.

Until he saw his girl.

His steps paused — just for a second. His gaze fixed, sharp as a blade and soft as a whisper. Then the world seemed to tilt forward as he crossed the distance between you in long, silent strides.

Y/N forgot everything you’d planned to say.

“Taehyung—” she breathed, but the sound broke, and before you knew it, you were running.

Your shoes slapped against pavement as you flung yourself into him — arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your face burying in the crook of his shoulder. He caught you effortlessly, one strong arm wrapping around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head like something precious.

He didn’t say a word at first.

His grip was crushing. His body was warm. Hard. Solid.

And you were trembling.

“I missed you,” you whispered into his uniform. Your voice cracked on the second word.

You felt him exhale. Slow. Heavy. Like it had been trapped in him for months.

His mouth pressed into your hair.

“I missed you more than I knew how to say.”

You clung to him tighter. Your small frame curled into his, swallowed whole by the man he’d become. It was still him — your Taehyung. The one who used to leave little sticky notes on your mirror with doodles of tigers and kisses. The one who laughed with his whole body, and sometimes stayed up at night just to watch you sleep.

But something deeper lived behind his eyes now.

You felt it when he pulled back just slightly, just enough to look at you. His eyes roved over your face like he was trying to memorize it from scratch. His fingers touched your cheek like they couldn’t believe you were real.

“You’re still so small,” he murmured, voice like a low hum in your chest.

You smiled, blinking fast. “And you’re… not.”

His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “Military food,” he said flatly. “Push-ups. And crawling through mud for eight hours.”

You laughed — watery and breathless — and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “You really did change,” you whispered.

He didn’t deny it.

There was a long, quiet moment between you, full of everything neither of you could say out loud. Things he’d seen. Things he’d endured. The shadows under his eyes weren’t just from sleepless nights — they were born from things that would never make it into songs or interviews.

“You okay?” you asked gently.

“I am now.”

That answer came without hesitation. And the way he looked at you — intense, unwavering — made your stomach flutter and your eyes sting.

He looked at you like you were the only familiar thing in a world that had gone cold and violent.

Then his hand cupped the back of your neck, firm and possessive. His body shifted closer — his chest pressing against yours, your head tucked right beneath his chin, and he just held you. Like time had stopped.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said, voice low. “Not for a second.”

“Then don’t.”

The air around you thickened. There was a new tension there now — not just reunion, but longing. Deep and physical. Your fingers clung to his collar, nails grazing the base of his neck, and he let out a breath that trembled slightly.

“I used to dream of this moment,” you said, soft against his skin. “And now you’re here, and I don’t even know what to do.”

His answer was a murmur, rough at the edges. “Let me take care of you. The way I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

Your pulse jumped. Your cheeks flushed. He leaned back just enough to look into your eyes, and the expression he wore was one you hadn’t seen before. Mature. Grounded. Possessive.

There was no boy left in him.

Only the man he’d become.

The man who came back to you.

________

The apartment was full — not loud, but full.

Namjoon had arrived first, clapping Taehyung on the back with that signature dimpled grin, his hair still regulation-short, his posture just a little straighter now, like the military hadn’t fully left his spine. Jin followed not long after — not in uniform, but carrying his usual brand of calm chaos with a grin that masked the months of waiting and missing and enduring.

And in the middle of it all, quietly orchestrating dinner in the background, was you.

You weren’t supposed to be seen.

Not on camera. Not in selfies. Not in the live. You moved like a ghost in your own home — barefoot, in soft jeans and a plain sweatshirt, your hair pulled up in a loose bun as you helped the quiet staff from the company set up drinks and arrange the food.

You’d spent the day preparing for this.

They were going live on Weverse. For the fans. For their brothers. For the first time since discharge.

And you?

You were the hidden heartbeat between them all. Taehyung’s secret girl, his quiet refuge — the one person who’d loved him before the beret and the camouflage and the harsh, freezing nights crawling through drills no one would ever know about.

From the kitchen island, you watched them get ready.

Taehyung in black — a loose cotton shirt that clung just enough to hint at how wide his chest had gotten. Hair pushed back, exposing the sharper cut of his face now. The tattoos on his hands were more visible than ever. So was the faint shadow beneath his eyes.

He was laughing with Namjoon, but you saw it. The stiffness that sometimes crept into his smile. The alertness behind his eyes.

“Five minutes, hyung,” a staff member called.

Namjoon nodded. Jin, ever casual, grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open, flopping onto the couch beside Taehyung like he’d never been gone.

You moved to hand the plates to a staff assistant, smiling gently. But as you turned, the corner of the tray was accidentally jostled, and you flinched—not from the tray, but from the sudden, hard elbow of one of the staff brushing against your face, too fast and unintentional.

A sharp sting bloomed across your cheekbone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry—” the staff gasped, reaching out instinctively.

You quickly shook your head, hands up. “It’s okay, I’m fine—”

But he was already watching.

From across the room, Taehyung’s head snapped in your direction. His smile faded instantly. His body stilled. The conversation fell to static behind him as his gaze narrowed, jaw tightening like stone.

The room didn’t notice. But you did.

His hand curled slightly into a fist on his thigh.

He couldn’t say anything. Not on live. Not with cameras about to roll. But the look he gave the staff member — dark, piercing, quiet — made your skin prickle. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared for a beat too long, until the staff member backed away instinctively.

Namjoon called his name, drawing him back.

“Tae? You good?”

His voice didn’t change. He leaned back into the couch, nodded once. “Yeah.”

But you knew that tone.

Low. Clipped. Unforgiving.

You finished setting the last cup of tea beside the snacks and retreated into the hallway just as the live countdown started. The screen lit up.

🟢 [LIVE] — Namjoon and Taehyung have joined.

The chat exploded.

He smiled for the camera. Laughing beside Namjoon, joking with Jin as he leaned into the frame from off-screen. But the tension in Taehyung’s jaw never fully disappeared. His hands were loose now, yes, but his energy — it was taut. Watchful. Every now and then, his eyes would flick to the hallway — where he knew you were.

He answered questions — talking about training, about missing the members, about what it felt like to finally shower without twenty other men around.

At one point, Jin teased him.

“I feel like if we fought now, you’d probably kill me,” Jin laughed, nudging Taehyung.

Taehyung’s eyes flicked over lazily. But his grin was different — a slow, shadowed smirk.

“I’ve been to scarier places than that, hyung.”

The way he said it — quiet, measured — made the chat explode with laughing emojis. But Namjoon looked over for a second longer, brows furrowed, like he heard something under the joke.

The live rolled on.

Laughter, soft chaos, a few serious moments where they talked about missing the fans, about Jimin and Jungkook who’d be next to come home, about how quiet the dorm had felt without all of them together.

Namjoon answered a fan who asked what they missed the most.

“Honestly?” he said. “The silence, sometimes. But also — the noise of us together.”

Taehyung nodded once, then added, “And seeing the same person’s face every night for months — it makes you appreciate the face you actually want to see.”

Namjoon gave him a look. “Was that aimed at someone?”

Taehyung only smirked again, his eyes sliding to the hallway behind the camera.

⸻

By the time the live ended, you were standing just past the corner of the hallway, fingers clutching your phone, your heart still beating too fast from the way he’d looked after you earlier.

The moment the camera turned off, the entire room sighed.

Staff moved quickly to pack up, conversations overlapping. Jin stretched, yawning.

“I’m gonna go. Gotta record early tomorrow.”

Namjoon gave you a brief, soft smile as he passed you in the hallway. “Thanks for the food, Y/N.”

You nodded, bowing slightly. “Of course.”

But Taehyung was already pulling on his jacket, voice low. “Let’s go.”

You blinked. “Should I—should I say goodbye—?”

“No.” His hand found your wrist, firm but not rough. “They’ll understand.”

You looked once over your shoulder — Jin had raised a hand in a wave, half-smiling. Namjoon gave you a nod.

But Taehyung had already turned, pulling you gently but insistently toward the elevator.

You followed. Silently. The ache in your cheekbone long forgotten, replaced by the tension radiating off him in quiet waves.

Only once the elevator doors closed, cutting you off from the world, did he finally move.

He turned.

One hand slid up to your face — careful, warm. His thumb brushed against the place you’d been hit, and his eyes searched yours like they were reading something only he could see.

“Did it hurt?”

You shook your head, voice small. “It was an accident.”

He didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched once.

Then he leaned forward — kissed your cheek, right where the pain had bloomed.

Soft. Reverent.

His arms wrapped around you — possessive, grounding. “Let’s go home.”

The car rolled into the long private driveway as the gates glided shut behind them, the quiet hum of tires over the smooth concrete echoing in the soft Seoul dusk. Taehyung had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your jeans as you leaned against the seat—calm, but thrumming with unspoken energy.

As the mansion came into view — all clean lines, soft lights through tall windows, and that familiar ivy climbing the front pillars — he exhaled.

Home.

———

He parked in silence, engine purring once before cutting off. Then he turned to you, eyes dragging over your face like he was taking inventory of your soul.

You smiled softly. “It’s just us now.”

He didn’t answer. He just reached for you and kissed your forehead.

Inside, he dropped his duffle by the door.

And froze.

There, in the center of the open living room, right above the sunken couch — was a massive white banner strung across the stone wall in perfect lettering:

“Welcome Back Tae 💜”

Below it, on the table, a line of plush BT21 figures stared up like a tiny cheering squad — TATA front and center, wearing a tiny paper beret you’d cut out yourself. Beside it, his favorite wine. A fresh vase of white tulips. And the faintest scent of sandalwood candles lingering in the air.

Everything was clean. Warm. Ready. The bed was made. Slippers laid out. The lights dimmed low.

He stood still for a moment.

Then turned toward you.

His voice came out low, hoarse with emotion. “You did all this?”

You nodded, cheeks warm. “Of course. You’ve been gone. I wanted your first night home to feel like… home.”

His lips parted, but no words came. Instead, he crossed the space between you and pulled you into his arms — not with urgency, but with the aching weight of someone who hadn’t touched softness in too long.

His hands were warm against your back. His mouth lingered at your temple. And when he breathed your name, it was almost reverent.

“God, I missed you.”

You smiled into his chest. “I noticed.”

Later, after wine and soft music and laughter that came easier with each hour, it shifted — somewhere between the second glass and the last flicker of candlelight. His voice dipped lower. His eyes never left yours. And when he reached for you — slowly, wordlessly — you didn’t hesitate.

⸻

The sheets were tangled and half-slipped off the bed, your body curled loosely on your side, one leg stretched across the cool linen as your arm draped over the pillow he’d recently occupied.

You were quiet. Bare. Asleep.

And he was watching you.

The sky outside had deepened into a navy velvet wash, the stars faint behind the tinted windows. From where he sat — back against the headboard, one arm behind his head — he could see every inch of you lit by soft bedside lamp glow. Your skin warm, your hair mussed. A tiny line between your brows, like you were dreaming.

So delicate. So small.

He’d seen you like this before, hundreds of times.

But now…

Now, everything was different.

Something primal stirred in him. Not lust — not only that — but the heavy, possessive protectiveness that had sunk into his bones since the military. The training. The missions. The way it’d changed how he breathed, how he saw danger in everything.

How he now understood just how fragile the world could be.

And how much he could lose.

You stirred, shifting slightly.

A sleepy hum escaped your throat as you blinked up, lashes fluttering before your eyes found him.

“…You’re staring,” you murmured, voice thick with exhaustion, but amused.

He gave a small, lazy smile. “You’re beautiful when you’re wrecked.”

Your brow twitched in sleepy offense. “Wrecked?”

“Mm.” He reached out, brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. “You look like someone who’s been thoroughly missed.”

You huffed. But your cheeks flushed pink as your arm slid lazily up to rest over his abdomen, your fingers grazing the ridges of his stomach, the firm rise of his chest.

“Yeah well,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded, “You didn’t exactly come home with restraint.”

He chuckled. It was the first time in months he’d laughed that quietly. “No,” he agreed, tilting his head, “I didn’t.”

You cracked one eye open. “You were kind of rough.”

His gaze darkened for a second, but not dangerously. “You didn’t complain.”

You smirked, eyes fluttering closed again. “Didn’t have a reason to.”

He reached out, letting his fingers trail lightly over your bare shoulder, your neck, down the curve of your back until you shivered faintly.

A pause.

Then your voice, soft: “You… really did miss me, huh?”

Taehyung’s voice was quieter now, his palm resting fully against your back. “You have no idea.”

You shifted again, turning just enough so your head was pillowed against his chest, your fingers splayed gently across the firm muscle there. You traced one invisible line across him, like mapping the difference.

His breath caught a little at the contact — more from the intimacy than the sensation.

“You’re stronger now,” you said softly, your voice almost childlike in the dark. “You changed.”

He didn’t respond right away.

Then, his arm curled around you, anchoring you closer.

“I had to,” he said. Simply. Quietly.

You tilted your chin, looking up at him through your lashes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your voice was innocent. Light. But not empty.

His gaze dropped to yours.

And for a second — a full, weighted beat — he just looked.

Then he let out a breath, not heavy… but slow.

“Not yet.”

And you didn’t press.

You just tucked your head against his chest again, your fingertips trailing over his heart as if to memorize it.

And he held you tighter — like if he let go, the world might take you too.

_______

The sound of laughter spilled out of the dining room like music from a house that had been quiet too long.

Dinner was set in the garden-facing room, the long wooden table full with homemade food, half-finished bottles of makgeolli and soju, and the echo of six voices layered with history. Candles flickered in the center, catching the edges of glassware and grins.

Jimin and Jungkook had arrived an hour ago — freshly discharged, freshly free, their energy explosive and familiar. Jungkook had crushed Y/N into a hug before she could breathe, lifting her off the ground in a whirl of excited laughter.

“Noonaaaaaa—!”

“You’re going to break my ribs,” Y/N wheezed against his shoulder, giggling.

“Worth it!”

Jimin had been more composed, though his hug had lingered. Soft. Gentle. Like he was still grounding himself.

“It’s been too long,” he whispered against her hair. “You didn’t forget me, right?”

Y/N had swatted at him with a mock scowl. “As if I could.”

Now they were all together again — Namjoon at the head of the table, Jin beside him, Jimin and Jungkook across from each other, and Taehyung…

Right beside Y/N.

His hand rested on the back of her chair, fingers brushing the top of her spine occasionally. Not enough to draw attention, but enough to make her stomach flip every time.

She was talking with Jungkook now, her arms folded on the table as she grinned at him. “So,” she teased, “how was it? Which one of you cried first?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “We don’t talk about that.”

Jimin snorted into his glass. “You mean you don’t.”

“Hyung—!”

Namjoon chuckled. “Honestly, I thought Jungkook would be the military muscle boy again, but—” he tilted his head toward Taehyung “—this one came back with shoulders.”

“Oh yeah,” Jin added, raising his brows dramatically. “You could balance a whole tray of drinks on his back now.”

Jungkook pouted. “Hey! I still got my muscles!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin teased, poking Jungkook’s bicep. “Still a golden maknae.”

“Who’d win in a fight now?” Namjoon mused, resting his chin on his hand. “Jungkook or Taehyung?”

Silence.

Then chaos.

“No way he could take me,” Jungkook declared.

Taehyung didn’t move. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming. “Wanna test that theory, bunny?”

Jimin burst out laughing. “He’s not kidding. He could break your spine with that stare alone now.”

“Chill,” Taehyung said, voice dry. “I’m a civilian again.”

You leaned your head against Taehyung’s shoulder, giggling. “Please don’t break anything. I just cleaned the house.”

The group quieted for a beat.

Then Jungkook leaned across the table. “Y/N, are you still baking?”

You lit up instantly. “Always. Now that Tae’s home, I can start again.”

Taehyung turned to glance at you, his voice teasing but warm. “You’re going to fatten me up, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan,” you said proudly. “I already have a new menu just for you. Lemon honey chiffon, your favorite, and I’m testing a persimmon tart.”

His smile softened. “I missed your food the most.”

“Military food was that bad for you, huh?” Jimin asked, leaning in.

Y/N made a face on Taehyung’s behalf. “He wouldn’t even talk about it. Just gave me this haunted look.”

“It was inedible,” Taehyung muttered. “They called it curry. It was glue.”

Everyone laughed.

You nudged him lightly, your voice playful. “Good thing you’re back in civilization now. Let me take care of you, okay?”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Then his hand gently squeezed the back of your neck, thumb brushing your skin.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Ugh, get a room,” Jungkook grumbled, dramatically covering his eyes.

“We have one,” Taehyung said coolly.

“YA!” Jin and Jimin shouted in unison, and the table erupted.

Eventually, the conversation turned to other things — promotions, comeback ideas, Yoongi’s discharge date. The group slowly quieted into warm, easy tones, the comfort of years spent together folding into every gesture.

At one point, Namjoon brought up something Taehyung had said in a recent live.

“You really said you hate childish people now?”

Taehyung nodded calmly. “They exhaust me.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You were the most childish one here,” Jin deadpanned.

“Facts,” Jungkook added. “You once cried because your snack fell on the floor.”

“Once?” Jimin choked.

“I evolved,” Taehyung said with a smug shrug.

Y/N pouted at him from her seat, hands coming up in mock offense. “So what, am I childish now?”

His eyes flicked to her, narrowing with playful threat. “Don’t push it.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Then reached up to squish his cheek, teasingly. “Don’t be too grown-up and serious, Mr. Military Man.”

But before she could get a proper hold, he caught her wrist mid-air — fast, firm, one brow raised.

“You forget how much stronger I am now?”

You gasped in outrage. “Let go!”

He smirked. “No.”

You pouted harder, lips trembling in exaggerated pain. “Oppa… you’re bullying me in front of your brothers.”

“You’ve been bullying me since I got back,” he murmured, pulling her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her fingers, slow and deliberate.

The table went silent.

Then Namjoon broke into a sigh. “We’re literally right here.”

“You two are the worst,” Jin muttered.

“Seriously, just get married,” Jimin said under his breath, sipping from his cup.

Y/N only leaned against Taehyung’s shoulder, victorious, as he wrapped his arm around her with a sigh — his hand resting right over her ribs, pulling her in like she was his.

Which she was.

______

It was a weekday afternoon, bright and mild, the sky above Seoul a lazy shade of blue. The streets weren’t crowded — just enough to feel alive without pressing in too close. You walked hand-in-hand with him, your steps light, your skirt fluttering with every breeze like petals across pavement.

You looked like spring incarnate.

Floral midi dress in soft yellow, little ribbons tied at your sleeves, sandals that made no sound. Your hair was pinned in a way Taehyung liked — soft, girlish, sweet. You were glowing. Laughing. Asking him if he wanted gelato from the corner place you always dragged him to before he left.

He wore sunglasses and a black baseball cap pulled low. A simple tee. Loose jeans. Mask. To anyone passing, he looked like any tall, faceless boyfriend doting on his tiny, radiant girlfriend.

But to Taehyung, it felt different now.

Everything did.

He’d gotten used to analyzing his surroundings. The shift of footsteps. The angle of parked cars. The sound of voices layered in a crowd. He hadn’t meant to keep doing it after discharge — it just stayed with him. The SDT trained his eyes to see threats before they were threats.

He still couldn’t stop calculating exit points every time they turned a corner.

You’d just pulled away, walking toward the gelato cart with a soft “Wait here,” and he nodded, watching you float toward the vendor.

You smiled brightly at the ahjussi behind the cart, pointing at the mint chocolate flavor like a kid, the little purse in your hands bouncing with each step.

Then Taehyung’s smile vanished.

His eyes locked on a man about twelve feet down the sidewalk — tall, in his 30s, standing near a lamppost with a phone in hand.

But not using it.

He wasn’t looking at his screen.

He was watching you.

Too long.

Too directly.

Taehyung stepped forward once. Then again.

His heart beat differently now — not fast, but cold. His hand clenched inside his pocket. The muscle in his jaw twitched once as his body shifted between the man’s line of sight and your figure.

The man noticed.

Looked away.

Too late.

When you turned back with a smile and two cups of gelato, Taehyung had already stepped close, took both in one hand, and curled his free arm tight around your back, guiding you quickly away.

“Wha—? Tae—?”

“Not here.”

His voice was low. Controlled. He didn’t say anything more until you were two streets over, near a shaded alley with no one watching.

He let go of your arm, breathing slow and sharp through his nose.

You looked up at him, frowning. “Hey. What happened?”

He didn’t answer. His head tilted, scanning, shoulders still tense.

“Tae.”

His eyes flicked to you finally. Still dark. Still locked in that place only soldiers understand.

“There was a guy. Back at the cart,” he said flatly. “He was staring at you.”

You blinked. “…Okay. I didn’t even notice—”

“I did.”

He took a deep breath and leaned against the brick wall behind him, setting the gelato aside on the bench.

You stepped closer, voice careful. “Tae… it’s just Seoul. People stare sometimes.”

“It wasn’t normal staring.”

“You mean, like…?”

“Like he wanted something.”

Your lips parted slightly at the way he said it. There was no hint of jealousy in his voice. Only danger. Calculation. Something hard and cold behind his eyes.

You placed your hand gently on his chest, feeling the tense pull of muscle beneath your fingertips.

“You okay?” you asked.

He hesitated.

Then scoffed under his breath. “You really think you can be out in the world acting like nothing’s wrong?”

You blinked at him. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at you, and his voice was low. Real.

“You don’t know what I’ve heard.”

The air between you thinned.

“I spent a year around nothing but men,” he continued. “No privacy. No filters. Just hours of hearing how they talk. How they think. About women. About what they want to do. About what they have done.”

You were quiet.

“They don’t think women are people. Not really. Just things. Toys. Disposables.”

He looked away, jaw tight. “I never showed them your picture. Not once. I kept it in a zip pocket at the bottom of my duffel, inside a wrapper, hidden under soap. Because I was scared someone might recognize you. Find you.”

You touched his wrist.

He didn’t move.

“You were the only thing I wanted to protect,” he said softly. “They talked about their wives, their girlfriends, the things they’d do if they ever saw certain idols in real life. Your name almost came up once and I felt my entire body go cold.”

“Tae…”

“I didn’t want you to ever be in the same sentence as the way they talked. And now—out here—some guy looks at you for too long and my whole fucking brain goes back there.”

You stepped in.

Wrapped your arms gently around his torso, your cheek resting against his chest.

His arms came around you immediately, his hands curling into the back of your dress, clutching you not like a lover—but like something sacred.

You didn’t speak. Just let him breathe.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your eyes.

“You’re too soft for this city.”

You pouted. “I’ve lived here longer than you.”

He half-laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re sweet. You talk to strangers. You wear ribbons in your hair and floral dresses and smile at old men selling chestnuts like they’re your grandpas.”

You looked up. “You’re making it sound like a crime.”

He sighed, then pressed his forehead to yours.

“It isn’t a crime. It’s why I love you. I just… I’ve seen how fast the world can get ugly.”

You cupped his jaw gently. “So let me be soft. You can be strong. I’ll bake the tarts, you fight the ghosts.”

He closed his eyes, smiling faintly. “Deal.”

You paused, then grinned up at him. “So… what was it like, being locked up with only men for a year?”

His brow lifted. “…Loud. Smelly. Violent.”

“Did they talk about feelings?”

“Not unless it was followed by ‘shut up, loser’.”

You laughed softly.

“Bet you missed touching a girl.”

His gaze dropped to you, suddenly darker. “You have no idea.”

You flushed.

He leaned in closer, whispering at your ear.

“You’re the only softness I had left. Don’t ever underestimate how badly I needed you.”

Your breath hitched.

Then he kissed your temple. Once. Twice. His hand still firm on your waist like he was anchoring himself to the only thing real.

That night, the bedroom was dim and warm — moonlight slanting through gauzy curtains, casting soft shadows across the wall.

The sheets were half-kicked off the bed, your legs tangled with his, your body resting against his chest as your breaths slowed together. It wasn’t urgent this time. Not hungry. Not frantic like that first night.

This time was different.

Slower.

His mouth had explored you like a hymn, like a melody he’d forgotten how to hum. Your skin remembered him — every line, every pause, every breath.

He didn’t talk much. Just held you close, moved with care, touched you like you were the only soft thing left in a world full of stone. And when it was over — when the tension in his body had eased and yours had melted — he kept his arms around you like a cage made of comfort.

You ran your fingers lazily across his chest, lips brushing his shoulder.

“You okay?” you whispered.

He kissed your hair. “I am now.”

You fell asleep not long after.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

_____

2:13 a.m.

You woke to the sound of movement.

Not the usual kind — not shifting blankets or sleepy murmurs.

This was sharp. Gasping.

You turned.

Taehyung was sitting upright at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his elbows on his knees, one hand buried in his hair, the other clenched tight on the sheets.

His shoulders rose and fell like he couldn’t catch his breath.

“Tae?”

He didn’t answer.

You sat up slowly, the sheets falling off your body, heart hammering now — not from fear of him, but for him.

You crawled across the bed and knelt behind him, arms gently wrapping around his back. You pressed your cheek between his shoulder blades.

He flinched. But only slightly.

Then exhaled.

It took a while before he spoke. His voice, when it came, was barely audible.

“There was a call. During drills. Fake scenario… supposed to be a simulation. But something went wrong. A real threat alert went off. Border movement.”

You stayed quiet, listening.

“I was closest to the line. They handed me live rounds. Told me I might have to shoot. Just like that.”

You tightened your hold, your face buried against his spine.

“I didn’t. Nothing happened. But the silence after that? The waiting? That’s what messed with me. That moment between breathing and shooting… I think I’ve been stuck there ever since.”

You turned his face gently toward you, crawling around to his lap, straddling him slowly — not to seduce, but to anchor.

He looked at you like he didn’t know where he was.

You cupped his cheeks softly. “You’re home. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His eyes watered, but the tears didn’t fall.

He leaned forward until his forehead pressed against your chest, arms wrapping around your waist, breathing in your scent like it might pull him from the battlefield still living behind his eyes.

And it did.

Eventually.

⸻

You heard the front door open with a click.

It was mid-morning. He’d gone to the gym after breakfast — the one you insisted he try out, clean, private, just a few blocks away.

You were already in the kitchen, the scent of browned butter and cinnamon thick in the air. A tray of raspberry almond croissants cooling beside you, powdered sugar melting into the ridges.

You wore an apron over a soft tank and cotton shorts, your hair up again, music playing faintly on your phone.

When he walked in, the scent hit him first.

Then he saw you.

His pace slowed. His bag dropped by the door.

You turned with that signature beam — pure, unaffected joy — and held up a plate.

“Chef’s pick of the day. I demand a taste test.”

He stepped forward, eyes flicking over your flour-dusted cheeks, your bare legs, the way your smile could still make his chest ache.

“You’re going to kill me with sweetness.”

You smirked. “That’s the plan. You’re getting too handsome, you know. ARMY’s gonna riot. You need to eat more croissants. Just a little chubby Taehyung. For safety reasons.”

He raised a brow, playing along. “Oh? And if I don’t?”

You gave him a dramatic sigh. “Then someone’s gonna steal my boyfriend.”

He stepped up to you, slid one hand around your waist and the other to your jaw, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

“Don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” he murmured, “when every guy in Seoul wants to steal my girl.”

You bit your lip, cheeks pink.

He leaned down, kissed your forehead.

And in his mind, a quiet monologue drifted through:

There are still days I wake up expecting the alarm. The cold floor. The sound of boots and orders and men screaming over drills.

But then I open my eyes… and she’s here. Soft skin. Sweet voice.

She smells like vanilla and sugar and peace.

I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’ll protect her with my life. Even now. Especially now.

She’s the only thing that brought me home fully.

And I’m never letting her go.

He kissed you then. Long. Quiet. Gentle.

You fed him a croissant between kisses.

And he stayed close the entire day. And longer.

#taehyung #bts army #bts imagine #bts imagines yandere #bts #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #jungkook #angst #fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts x y/n #kim namjoon #jimin #bts jin #yoongi #hoseok

157 notes · View notes

makiwife · 2 months ago

Text

Girls day jealousy CL16

Driver’s Soft Launch Series

Charles Leclerc x RedBull Driver! Verstappen! Reader

A/n: sooo i've been gone for like more than a year... oops I DIDNT MEAN IT I'M SORRY. I got caught with college and then I just never picked up where I left off until now. Got inspired to clean out my drafts, so here's one that's DUSTYY. also, idk what to do with this series now... lmk if you want it to keep going or if you have any ideas. All pics are from Pinterest and Instagram.

Warnings: lil sexual themes?? bad french translation, i took it in hs but literally forgot everything

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redbullracing

Liked by maxverstappen1, Y/nverstappen, f1, and 562,931 others

redbullracing Welcome back to Suzuka, Verstappen siblings 🇯🇵

View comments...

helenlogan22: THE VERSTAPPEN SIBLINGS ARE BACK TOGETHER

carlomarsh: let’s get another 1-2 finish by the boys🙏

f1loverr: the last two pics are SO FIRE 🔥

Y/nverstappen: glad to be back!!

redbullracing liked this comment

Ferrariforever43: y/n mid🤣 girls don’t belong in sports, let alone f1.

↳ chloerocks: tell me you’re a 12 y/o boy without telling me you’re a 12 y/o boy🙄🙄

↳ f1: not very nice for someone who won 4 GP’s + many podium finishes

Luvy/nver: NOT F1 SHOWING THAT LIL BOY UP🤣🤣

maxverstappen1: 🇯🇵🇯🇵

redbullracing liked this comment

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Y/nverstappen

Liked by alexalbon, landonorris, Lilymhe, and 2.7 million others

Y/nverstappen girl’s day before quali

View comments…

alexalbon: the girl in the white dress is so cute😍

↳ Y/nverstappen: lol sorry she’s taken by moi.

↳ charles_leclerc: excuse me?

↳Lilymhe: @alexalbon my wife is a f1 driver🤩

↳ alexalbon: HELLO?!? I AM TOO??

girlyf1girl: LMAOO THEIR COMMENTS ARE SO FUNNY

daddyleclercc: PRETTIEST TRIO EVERR

alexandrasaintmleux: Wowwww😍😍😍

↳ Y/nverstappen: me when I see you:

Lilymhe: my gf’s look so yummy🤤🤤

↳ charles_leclerc: Y/n is most definitely NOT your girlfriend.

Verstappenmaxny/n: JEALOUS CHARLES?!?? HELLOO

norrisxmax: WHY IS CHARLES ACTING LIKE A JEALOUS EX 😭😭

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Texts between Charles & Y/n

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charles_leclerc

Liked by Y/nverstappen, carlossainz55, and 1.3 million others

charles_leclerc Oui, c’est MA belle petite amie:)) very lucky to be in such a loving and fulfilling relationship with such a strong and talented woman. @Y/nverstappen I love you ❤️

Comments have been limited on this post...

Y/nverstappen: AWW I KNOW I WAS MAD AT YOU BUT THIS IS SO SWEET BABY:((( I LOVE YOU MORE!!!!

pierregasly: he posted this because he was jealous btw😭😭

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Y/nverstappen

Liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, and 2.5 million others

Y/nverstappen To the man that stuck with me since the beginning, merci de m’avoir donné le soutien dont j’avais besoin quand personne d’autre ne comprenait. Tu m’aimes fort et fort. Je serai toujours reconnaissant de l’affection chaleureuse que tu ne manques jamais de donner. Je t’aime 🥰❤️💋

Commets have been limited...

landonorris: oh goodie they hard launched their relationship.. 😐😐

↳ Y/nverstappen: bro what? are you jealous?🤨

alexandrasaintmleux: the cutest couple everr

↳ Y/nverstappen: 🥰🥰🥰

maxverstappen1: @charles_leclerc if you hurt her, I'll literally kill you. Like fully run you off the track.

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A/n like I said up there, I don't know what i want to do with this series anymore, I mean they hard launched so everyone knows nowww. please send ideas or lmk if you want this series to keep going. Anyway i hope you enjoyeddd!!!

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Tagged: @d3kstar @whydowesleepeachnight @escapism-writer @six-call @lifeless-firefly @rhythmstars @lancelechair @random-human02 @nataliazzzz @dark-night-sky-99 @revres @iamkaku @flrelily-mimi @loloekie @cherry-piee @landossainz @2bormaybenot @cynical-ghost @fastfactory @angelluv16

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szonyix6277 · 8 days ago

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.:Unrequited Love:.

a/n: completely forgot about this draft. oops! it was a struggle to conclude this one, it had about five different endings? xD some things just don't turn out the way you initially want them to... and that's totally ok.

pairing: Choi Seung-hyun x Fem!Reader (ft. Kwon Ji-yong and BIGBANG)

contains: angst, unrequited love, close friendships, language and alcohol use, no hard warnings

w/c: 3k

summary: You have been classmates with Dae-sung since first grade. One day he introduced you to his new friends and bandmates, BIGBANG. You soon learned that you shared the same birthday date, November 3rd, with Seung-hyun - he was a few years older than you. It quickly became a silly tradition that you’d grab dinner with him, just the two of you, on the day. But strings were quickly attached; unlike with the others, you could geek out over astronomy and art - some of the things you both loved - and you realized that you had a massive crush on him. I will tell him next time -you nodded to yourself. For weeks. Months. And next week, it was your birthday. Instead of going out, you decided to invite him to yours - you lived alone in a small, one bed apartment in Seoul - cook him dinner and finally confess your love. He agreed to meet you there and it was all good to go, however…

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“Wanna hang out tonight?” -Ji-yong asked you after their dance rehearsal.

At this stage, you were an unofficial member of BIGBANG, just chilling around. After Dae-sung introduced you to the band years ago, you quickly became friends with everyone and you liked to occupy a black couch in the corner, either reading or drawing.

“It’s my birthday, man!” -you responded, sitting up on the armrest.

“Oh, right, you’re hanging out with your twin!”

“Are you gonna confess or something?” -Young-bae nudged your arm, just being silly, but your face turned all red and you bit your lower lips. “Damn…”

“Shhs!” -you punched his arm. Lucky for you, Seung-hyun already left the room to take a shower.

“That hurt!”

“Good!” - you hissed.

“Are you serious?” -Dae-sung asked in a hush tone, as he popped down on the couch, a towel loosely hanging over his shoulder. “You and Tabi?”

“Don’t act like it isn’t obvious.” -Ji-yong rolled his eyes.

“Wait, really?” -you turned to him. “What does he do?”

“Not him! You!” -he cleared his throat and his voice went an octave higher, mocking you. “Tee-hee! Oppa, you look great in this! Oh, my, your rap is so badass! Tee-hee!” -he continued and started twirling his short hair.

“I’m gonna beat you!” -you warned.

“Please!” -he let out a laugh, his voice going back to normal. “You don’t even notice but you’re head over heels for the man!”

“Head over heels for whom?”

You all turned.

Seung-hyun just returned from his shower. His hair was still slightly damp, but he was all dressed, ready to leave.

“Lee Byung-hyun.” -you said the first celebrity name that came to mind. The three boys around you could barely keep their laughter back, exchanging looks. You knew they wouldn’t rat you out, but if one of them laughs, the other two will follow. You kicked Dae-sung, as he was the closest to you and gave him a death stare. Seung-hyun just frowned. He knew he missed something but he wasn’t gonna press.

“He’s pretty cool.” -he nodded. “What time does my birthday girl want to meet?”

“Hm, let’s say 7.30?”

“Sure.” -he gave you a little side hug and a kiss on your cheek. “See you then!”

“See ya!”

When he stepped outside the studio, the three finally laughed.

“Okay, screw you all! I gotta go, too!” -you said. You tossed your notes in your backpack. “Bye!”

“Good luck confessing tonight!”

“Go get some, girl!”

“Use a condom, we don’t need your pet semen running around!”

You cleaned the apartment and cooked the food. You even got out some candles to have a more romantic ambiance - and wine to ease yourself for the night. A big night! You let out a deep breath and fluffed the decorative pillows on the couch, for the millionth time, when you got a phone call. It was Seung-hyun.

“Hey, what’s up, birthday boy?” -you asked in a chirpy tone.

“Hey! Listen, um… something came up and I’m really sorry… but I won’t make it to yours tonight.”

“Is everything ok?” -you were worried something happened to his mom, or his sister, or one of his friends.

“Yeah, all is ok! I, um… I got asked out by this girl and I said yes.”

“Oh.” -so he cancelled to get laid?!

“You’re mad, huh?”

“No, no!” -yes, you were mad. Pissed. Beyond furious. “Enjoy your evening, then.” -you shrugged.

“I will make it up to you, (Y/n)! I promise!”

“Okay. Have fun!” -you said with a sour face, but you didn’t let him hear it in your voice.

“Thanks! Bye.” -he hung up.

You felt defeated.

If you grew a pair and asked him out sooner, this wouldn’t have happened.

You looked at the table. It was all set up, two plates, two candles, two glasses and a bottle of wine. You felt the tears stinging your eyes.

You poured yourself a glass, downing it in one swift swing and texted Ji-yong.

He cancelled T^T Wanna come over?

He cancelled? Np, I’ll be right thereBring the boys, tooCan’t - Dae is a homebody and YB is with Hyo-rin

I guess it’s just us then -.-’’

Hey, I’m a great company! >.<”

You smiled. He really is great company.

Soon, Ji-yong arrived, with another bottle of wine.

“I’m sorry.” -he hugged you when you opened the door. His eyes showed nothing but sadness for you. “What happened?”

“He’s on a date.” -you closed the door behind him.

“A date?” -he frowned. “With whom?”

“He didn’t give me the details, Ji!” -you snapped. You sat on your couch, pouring yourself another glass. “You can have some food and wine.”

Ji-yong got a plateful of your pre-made dinner and settled next to you.

You were watching a series on your laptop, eyes fixated on the screen but your mind was elsewhere. Ji-yong tried his best. He was talking to you, random stuff like usual, but all you did was silently nod, keeping your eyes on the screen - hoping not to give in to your feelings and bawl your eyes out.

Why did you even ask him to come over? All you were doing was ignoring him. You pressed the spacebar to pause the show.

“I’m sorry I invited you.” -you said quietly.

“Huh?”

“You can go home, if you want.”

“Nope!” -he threw an arm over your shoulder and hugged you. “I’m not leaving you here all sad and lonely on your birthday. What kind of guy would that make me?”

“Thanks.” -you smiled, getting cozy in his hug.

Two finished bottles later between the two of you, you passed out on your couch and Ji-yong on the floor. You nearly stumbled over him in the morning when you came to. It was sweet of him to stay - but you wished it was Seung-hyun. You still couldn’t believe he so casually cancelled on you, literally at the last minute! Where did he even meet that bitch?!

You didn’t go to any of their dance rehearsals that week. You tried to avoid Seung-hyun like the plague. You were so hurt - and he hasn’t tried to reach you either! So much for making it up for me! Until one day, you heard a knock on your door. You were surprised to see Ji-yong with a bright smile on his face. You weren’t expecting him - or anyone.

“What?” -you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re going on a double date in half an hour.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, get dressed!”

“S-slow down!” -you stuttered as he made his way in your apartment. “What are you talking about?”

“Seung-hyun invited me on a double date with his new girlfriend.”

“Okay, and why am I-… ? Oh!” -the penny dropped. Ji-yong wanted you to be his date for this. “Are you insane?” -you smacked his arm.

“What? We’d make a cute couple.”

“Yeah, but not a convincing one!”

“I’ll pay you dinner for an entire month if you come!”

“I don’t know, Ji…”

“You get to see the bitch he cancelled on you for.”

That did it. Your curiosity got the best of you and started to get ready.

Half an hour later, you were all dolled up in a low-cut, red top, jeans and red high heels.

“Okay, our story is simple.” -Ji-yong said when you two sat in a taxi. “We got together on your birthday. I confessed and you kissed me.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” -you huffed. “I look ridiculous!”

“You look hot.”

“Back off, Ji!”

“Hold my hand, when we go in.”

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, Seung-hyun was already there with her, sitting at a 4-seat table next to each other. Your heart sank. It was like someone saw your worst nightmare and decided to turn it into reality. She was all smiles - Seung-hyun must have said something and they were both giddy about it. She had long, brown hair. She wore a short sleeve, black turtleneck and a miniskirt with doll shoes. Still, when she stood up to greet you, she was taller than you in your heels. She introduced herself as Cha-Cha, her stage name, but her real name was Ho-Sook.

Seung-hyun was surprised to see you, to say the least. He didn’t expect you to show up with his best friend.

“I wanna go for a smoke before we order.” -Ji-yong didn’t even sit down. “Anyone want to join?”

“Oh, me!” -Cha-Cha stood up. “I wanna get all the juicy details about my new man.” -she winked at Seung-hyun -making your stomach flip. For fuck’s sake, just pee on him already!

As they walked away you opened the menu to keep yourself occupied.

“I didn’t know you and Ji-yong…” -he started, his voice smooth as ever. Your heart fluttered.

“Well, yeah, we are!” -you faked a smile, slamming down your menu. “Problem?”

“No, it’s cute.” -he smiled. That damn sweet smile. “A bit unexpected, but cute.”

Cute? Is that it? He believes it?

“Why unexpected?” -you asked.

“I always thought he sees you the way I see you. The way we all do.”

“Which is?” -you frowned.

“That you are our little sister we must protect at all costs.” -he brushed your cheek. You dropped your eyes feeling the heat rise to your face. He was kind but his words felt like salt to an open wound. It hurt. He practically family-zoned you! You didn’t have the slightest chance with him - no matter how cute you acted or how sexy you dressed. It was always going to be unrequited love.

“What did we miss?” -Cha-Cha came back with Ji-yong. Seung-hyun pulled back into his seat.

“Nothing, babe.” - he responded. “Just chatting.”

Ji-yong gave you a look of concern as he sat down. You got out your phone and texted him:

L8r - as in, you’d explain it to him later.

You all ordered your food and let Cha-Cha talk. She was a big talker. But at least you found out how she met Seung-hyun; apparently, they’ve been taking the same bus for the past 3 months. She was a 2NE1 backup dancer. That explains the crazy long legs - you thought. She hooked her arm under his and leaned on him as she told the story of how she asked him out. She gained the courage on the day of his birthday, because she forgot to buy him a gift. Bullshit, but whatever. Seeing them all snuggly in front of you killed your appetite but somehow, you powered through without letting your heartache show.

You were happy to leave when Cha-Cha suggested:

“Why don’t we go to a club?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” -you sighed.

“We can go home and freshen up and see you around 9?”

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” -Seung-hyun agreed. Great, more PDA!

“Okay, we’ll see you then!” -Ji-yong agreed in your place. The two of them left. Once they were far away, you hit him full force in the arm. “Ow!”

“Why would you agree?!” -you hissed.

“I’m sorry.” -he massaged his arm. “You’re really strong…”

“I don’t want to see them again.” -your tears finally escaped. “Not tonight! Not ever!”

“(Y/n)...” -Ji-yong sighed and hugged you. “What happened while I was outside?”

“I definitely don’t have a shot with Seung-hyun.” -he didn’t understand, so you continued. “He thinks of me as a little sister.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” -he asked, wiping a teardrop from your face. You shrugged.

“Whatever…” -you wiped your face. “Fuck it. Let’s get wasted.”

You were sitting by the bar, all alone sipping on a cocktail.

Seung-hyun and Cha-Cha were being late and Ji-yong texted that he feels sick from the food he had earlier at the restaurant. You just scoffed, turning your phone face down - you didn’t text him back. It was 20 past 9 and you were ready to call it quits, when Seung-hyun finally showed up. All alone and upset.

“Sorry.” -he said shortly and sat on the bar stool next to you. “Two shots of vodka!” -he addressed the bartender.

“You look awfully upset for someone who just got laid.” -you said in a sour tone, not even looking at him.

“What?!”

“You and Cha-Cha.”

“Fuck me…” -he cursed under his breath, running his hand into his hair. The bartender got back with his order. He downed both shots. Woah! Did I miss something? “It’s none of your business, (Y/n).” -he cleared his throat. “But for your information, we broke up.”

“Huh?” -you turned to him. “Wha-What happened?” -you asked. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look OK?!” -he snapped. You noticed. He’s got bloodshot eyes. He must have been crying and that’s why he was late. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him.

“Seung-hyun…” -you scooched closer to him, dragging the heavy barstool closer to him on the sticky floor, and rubbed his arm. “I’m so sorry…”

“Ji said you’re here alone so I couldn’t just bail o you, too.”

Him prioritizing you even now made you blush - lucky for you, the lights were too low to notice the change.

“Is there anything I can do?” -you asked gently.

“You’re already doing it.” -he gave you a tired smile, patting your hand. “You’re by my side, like nobody else.”

“Then I’ll make sure to stay as long as I’m needed.”

“You’re the best.” -he squeezed your hand a little tighter. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

It wasn’t the kind of relationship you wanted - but it was the type of relationship he needed.

You were dying of curiosity to know what exactly went down, and you didn’t have to wait long. After two more drinks, Seung-hyun told you exactly what happened -not fully coherent, but you understood the main point where it all went south. He escorted Cha-Cha back to her place. She started to complain about Ji-yong and you.

“Me?” -you asked in surprise. “What did I do?”

“She woz soooo fucking jealous of ya!” -Seung-hyun loudly slurred his words. “I woz tellin’ ‘er about ya… y’know? Like before… Cuz you’re like my best friend. Okay? You know that, right?! RIGHT?!”

“Right, I do know that.” -you reassured him, looking around the club as more people started to take notice of you.

“Right…” -he nodded a little longer than intended, then got back to his story. “She saw that I woz like… touchin’ ya face or sumtin’… at the restauran’ …I dunno… and she flipped out, man! Like… mental! So she tolds me to choose…. between ya, my bestest friend… is that a word… best-est… hehe… and her. Like bitch, wha’?! I tolds her we done, and I ain’t ruining my frien’ships over some hot pussy… y’know?”

“That’s admirable.” -you patted his back.

“No, for reals… if she go’ pro’lem wi’ my frien’s…. She can fuck… off! Y’know wha’ I’m sayin’?”

“Yes, Seung-hyun! The entire club knows what you’re saying!” -you hissed. He was practically shouting over the loud club music.

“Oh… “ -he looked around with glassy eyes. “Maybe don’ shout then, (Y/n)...” -he whispered and started to snigger. He was completely drunk. It was time to call it a night.

You got help from some guys at the club to carry him to the taxi, and then asked the taxi driver to help you carry him up to your place.

He was giggling as the taxi driver put him on the couch.

“Thanks again!” -you said and gave him an extra tip.

“Yeah, you kids have fun!” -he nodded.

You got a pillow and a blanket for Seung-hyun - and a bucket in case he decided to throw up the party.

“Right…” -you sighed.

“Huh…where-?... how-?” -he muttered as he was looking around, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe, Seung-hyun.”

“You really da best…” -he hiccupped. “I wuw yuuu!!”

You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“I wuw you, too.” -you got his messy fringe out of the way and kissed his forehead. “Get some rest, ok?” -but by then, he was knocked out. You gently rubbed his cheek and went to your bedroom - leaving the door open, if he needed you during the night.

The next morning, you woke up before Seung-hyun. Well, you didn’t sleep much to begin with. You replayed the entire day in your head over and over again. Until you realized not being able to be his girlfriend was actually a trump card you will hold forever. Drunk people tell the truth, don’t they? You were his best friend, his own words, and that’s not a title that could be taken away so easily. You could love him without ever breaking up. And this possibility really made your friendship with him even more special than before. It was a sort of closure. You felt a sense of peace and tranquility.

You didn’t bother waking him up - he had a rough night - and went to the dance studio. You haven’t seen Young-bae and Dae-sung since your birthday and you missed them. The boys were happy to see you. Ji-yong already filled them in, you didn’t have to explain anything.

“And where did you leave hyung?” -Ji-yong asked.

“He’s at mine.”

“Oh?” -Young-bae looked at you. “You told him?”

“Do we need to get you two registry gifts?” -Dae-sung cooed.

“I will punch you!” -you warned. “He, um… he can tell you his story, but me and him are never going to date. I’m cool with it.”

“But yesterday…?” -Ji-yong started, but you stopped it.

“I gained some perspective since... and I'd rather be his friend than his ex.”

The boys exchanged some looks but since you weren’t going to share more, they all went back to practice.

You took up your assigned spot on the couch, scribbling in your notebook. It was good to be back. If you and Seung-hyun ever dated and broke up, this would all be taken away from you. You wouldn’t just lose him. You’d lose all of this. All your close friends. Your favourite people. Your best friends.

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Taglist: @bettelaboure @flymetothexmoon @nerdydoll-com @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @cybertempo @breakmeoff @wcnderlnds @emmiesoverthemoon @berfgrimm @forevervibezzzz1 @youlikeex @moontabi

feel free to request to be added/removed from taglist

#choi seunghyun #t.o.p #bigbang #fanfic #top x reader #t.o.p bigbang

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residentialsinyomakai · 7 months ago

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While I'm still drafting a McKraken yappost (tangent. Incoherent as usual/pos lol) here's some doodle stuff!

I've been into Dandy's world recently augshedi3od....I love you Shrimpo

The left one is an oc of mine!! Lachlan :) hr has a last name but I forgot. I'll get that to you later. Anyways, fake poster thing! (Bubble wand is representative of a friend of mine's oc ily Bubble <33)

Time to drain the color from the rest of them. Oops all doodles!/ref

Cap'n'Crash! About time I drew him—for as little as I talk about him anymore, he's one'a my favorites! ＼(^u^)／ yokai watch boss proportions are so goofy lol

Babblong in an outfit suggested to me by my cool friend ohmahgah....I love drawing babblong in pretty fits :)

Squisker design I like by @jinmenkennel !!! I don't believe they're very active anymore, but still absolutely go check Spoon's art out....it's so cool frfr

Hino and Jaws but Hinozall has Not Been Feeling It lately. Ignore the quality on this one I got lazy wahaha!

McKraken my favorite imbecile. Maybe one day I'll draw you consistently....anyways no idea what the context is for either of these! Just '>:(' and '>:)' vaguely lol

Various yokai doodles, including Menace! My guy <33 some hc stuff in here ykyk. Btw obligatory I do Not Support Micchī's actions, but he is fun to draw...sighs in regrettable fixation before I found out he was weird.

sona stuff! The...abomination in the first picture is an unfinished half of a thing i might do lol

Babblong and Komasan with some ice cream! I LOVE BABBLONG!!!!! I am his #1 FAN:)

My friend @suppai-limes 's oc Sick-Kun! Been a while since I've drawn him....he's the greatest I'm gonna throw him into a tar pit

Also mini-comic ft. My sona and his goofy ahh

He's so stupid I love him

Next one's going under the cut because kinda ink vomit stuff? Not really too visible but just in case lol

Kinda ventish,but also not really? Just kinda a little sona doodle thing concerning an old habit sheiod9e I like how the pose came out!! :)

Dandy's world oc....My third one actually. I love u Cephno. They teach kids things like how to treat minor injuries, and when to get a parent's/911's assistance on something!

Yeayuh tho! Hope you liked :) I have a lot more dandys world stuff I haven't posted anywhere just bc it consumed me for a month or so lol....maybe I'll make a post on it cause I DO WHAT I WANT!!! love you, bye bye! <3 ^u^

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blushroom20 · 1 year ago

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Modded Left 4 Dead 2 Screenshots 19 The Belated Christmas Special featuring No Mercy Christmas Edition and @espurr-queen

#this was sitting in my drafts i forgot to post it earlier oops #For some reason when I play Multiplayer the bots act weird so that's why there's 3 Teruterus at some points #Left 4 Dead 2 #L4D2 #modded l4d2 team #Espurr #Teruteru Hanamura #Fall Guys #Goro Akechi #Inkling Girl #Ren Amamiya #Akira Kurusu #Sho Minazuki

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originalaccountname · 3 months ago

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Oh hey, look what I found while cleaning up my drafts: a deeply dusty Tomodachi Life update post from April last year!!!

I feel bad leaving it to continue being forgotten when apparently I had written up this whole thing (without posting it??), so if you need a refresher, the old posts are under this tag. I'll leave you to it o7

---

Continuing the adventures of the bsd cast in Tomodachi Life, we pick up where we left off after sskk became the first married couple of the island.

I try to meddle the least amount possible in their social lives, only answering yes or no when they ask for my blessing in asking someone out or trying to set their friends up. I mostly say yes, with very few exceptions. Note that I am only sharing the funniest events.

Without further ado, let's get into it.

Atsushi and Akutagawa getting married made everyone dream it would seem, because the following day, I opened the game to this:

Most notably, Dazai decided that after all the drama he and Kunikida went through, it was time for them to get married. Dazai proposed at the train station:

They also had a beautiful wedding with their friends where half of everyone blinked on the photos. The two miis in the middle are Kouyou and Fyodor, Dazai and Kunikida's best friends respectively (yes, Fyodor is Kunikida's best friend):

Another notable romantic... incident that came from this wave of post-wedding craze was Tanizaki deciding to confess to Naomi. He invited her to the café, but upon popping the question, he was interrupted by Higuchi who proclaimed to love Naomi more. Naomi chose Higuchi over Tanizaki. Tanizaki left the café broken-hearted:

Atsushi also tried to set up Kouyou and Ranpo on a blind date, but it only ended in friendship for the time being.

In non-romantic affairs, here are the Miis that are currently best friends (I have no say on this matter):

Higuchi and Hirotsu

Fukuzawa and Gogol

Mori and Tachihara

Fitzgerald and Tsujimura

Poe and Kyouka

Kouyou and Dazai

Oda and Kenji

Ango and Yosano

Chuuya and Natsume

Kunikida and Fyodor

I can hear some people ask "what about Dazai and Chuuya? How are they doing?" Well, you see, they became friends while I wasn't looking through a common friend, and Dazai liked Chuuya enough... but Chuuya couldn't stand Dazai, as in "at the very bottom of his friend list marked 'Not getting along' " kind of situation. Since then, Chuuya has warmed up a little to Dazai, and they're both marked "Getting along ok", which is neutral-bad.

And now, random shenanigans!

Someone's cooking creation while they were feeling down (I forgot who)

Chuuya and Yosano hanging out at the beach:

Dazai dreaming about the ocean:

and finally, Dazai trying to... make healthier life choices...?

.... and soon after, I proceeded to forget this game existed for a full calendar year when they announced the next game in the series. Oops!

#why did i not post this and then forgot it for a full year #fever dream of a game #i did open it up again just now and nothing notable seems to have happened while i wasn't looking #i'm almost disappointed askjdhksajhd #bsd tomodachi life adventures #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #apparently i talk sometimes

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nameless-victory · 2 months ago

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Belatedly answering the 50 Lamb Questions posted by @transtistic in regard to tbos!Lamb/Butcher !!

I've had this rotting in the drafts for way longer than intended, and I just...completely forgot about it. Oops. Well, better late than never! Some of the answers here are left a little vague on purpose as I intend to expand on them more later. Also beware this is EXTREMELY long </3

Feel free to ask me other stuff about my Lamb that aren't related to this as well! I love talking about my strange and off-putting son-daughter /aff

// Usual tbos AU warning for mentions of cannibalism and a bit of body horror and the general stuff discussed in cotl + the 50 questions

1. Does your lamb go by any name other than The Lamb? If so, what?

Obviously, we mainly call them Butch or (the) Butcher, and their official title is "The Butcher of Souls", but in-universe they usually go by Butcher or just "the Lamb". They also still identify with their birth name, but they haven't shared it with anybody.

2. How old was your lamb when they were sacrificed?

In their mid to late 20's.

3. How long was your lamb held captive by heretics before their sacrifice?

Around ten years.

4. Did your lamb kill anyone prior to their first death? If so, who?

[Answered!]

5. When your lamb mourns a dead loved one from their past.. who is it?

Mainly themselves. Lots of identity issues with this one

6, 7, 9. Who raised your lamb? Where was your lamb raised? A village? A prison? Constantly on the run? How or where was your lamb caught?

They were raised by a flock of other sheep in a village buried deep within Darkwood's forests. It was far away from the Old Faith's gaze, so their life was rather peaceful and unaffected by the heretics' antics. That is, of course, until The Horrors happened👍

8. Did your lamb have any specific skills pre-sacrifice?

They learned how to sew, chop wood, wield an axe, and do a few other things when they were still alive. Those skills still show their uses today.

10. How did your lamb feel with their head on the pedestal? Afraid? Relieved? Angry?

Scared, betrayed...And shortly after, absolutely furious.

11. Does your lamb have any notable or unique features?

I assume it'd be the sideways horns and the fully red eyes! And that their execution scar is thicker on one side than on the other because of the way their execution went, though it is covered by the bell regardless

12. How tall is your lamb?

They are tall for a sheep...which is to say average, slightly leaning towards short. The most threatening creature you know has to look up to talk to half of their followers /j

13. Is your lamb petite? Curvy? Fucking jacked?

They're just pretty average, kinda skinny(?) They're strong enough to wield a battle axe as well, but it's not really visible + part of it is just the godhood power-ups anyway. I just like how unassuming they look when they can actually kick your ass. Even if it doesn't make too much sense, it ties into the whole wolf in sheeps clothing motif which I like for them. Idk the words to describe it sorry, just go look at their ref💔

14. Is your lamb's wool pure white?

Nope, it's grey! And the lighter patch on their head is supposed to be the result of a birthmark. Idk if either of those things work like that irl, but I make the rules here /j (also fun fact the actual color I use for their wool is a desaturated purple, so I've also joked about them being straight up purple before)

15. How does your lamb prefer to keep their wool? Short and shorn neat? Wild and untrimmed? Be honest are there branches in that bitch?

They keep the wool on their head/their 'hair' very long! They have completely refused to cut it after their sacrifice. This has lead to a couple deaths in Anchordeep, because when their wool gets wet it becomes so fucking heavy that they literally cannot swim out if they're pulled under water, but it's sentimental. (Also...yeah, probably.)

16. Do you base your lamb on any specific species of sheep? If so, which?

Unfortunately no </3 somehow they draw inspiration from both a bull and a wolf in certain aspects but not any actual sheep...Huh.

17. Do they use their own wool for anything?

Not really, not much of it to use if they never cut it in the first place

18. On a scale of one to ten how floppy are their ears?

It' a 1-4 I fear, stiff as hell ears smh </3 (Their ears do move a lot when they're emoting though)

19. Do they bear any traits of forced domestication? Is their tail docked? Was their ear tagged? Do they have scars from being shorn (and nicked) against their will? Were they ever painted with or assigned a number rather than a name?

Yes, their tail is docked.

20. What do their horns look like?

They're based off bull horns! I just think it looks cool :3 They do kind of function as weapons as well, so that also comes in handy. Except when they get stuck on the doorframe.

Insert joke about them being just as prone to anger as a bull

21. Was your lamb born male, female, intersex, or do you have no opinion on their sex at birth?

That's for them to know, and for you to never find out /j

22. Does your lamb use pronouns other than they/them? If so, which ones!

It/its as well! I don't correct people if they unknowingly use she/he for them because in-universe they honestly wouldn't care, but they do prefer the neutral ones. Still, they don't mind too much about being called by other gendered terms (sir/miss etc) in either direction.

23. Are they capable of having children and would they want to have children?

I assume they cannot (thanks to unknowingly getting themselves "sick" with The Horrors Beyond Mortal Comprehension and in turn fucking up their body to an extent even they are still unsure of) but I am certain they wouldn't want to even if they could.

24. If they were to be a parent or are, what epithet would they have their child use? Mom? Mama? Dad? Baba? Nony? Abba?

As I said they wouldn't want a kid, but hypothetically...no it'd probably still be just "Lamb"☠️

25. Do they wear something other than the canon cloak?

Yes! They got the beserker fit because I thought it would fit their personality, and also their whole TOWW-inspired outfit under that. They sewed it themselves from scraps + pieces of their old clothes the first night they spent at the red crown's cult.

26. Does your lamb wear jewelry or makeup?

Nah. If you'd call either the bell or the bell silencer jewelry then yes, but those both have practical uses so to them it probably wouldn't count.

27. Is your lamb flirtatious?

Generally polite/charismatic for the sake of getting their way? From one point onward, yeah. Actually flirtatious? No.

But hey, do violent threats also count as flirting? If so, then maybe, but only towards a select few.

28. Did your lamb have any partners pre-sacrifice?

Nope, didn't get much time to look into that before things went to shit. They're also aromantic, so even if they did have the time to think about that, they probably would've preferred not to engage in romance either way.

29. Did your lamb take any followers as a partner?

Followers no. They did not take anyone else either but one could still argue the opposite /hj

*Additionally for the last 3 questions, they do value the platonic relationships (or sometimes secret-third-things that do not conform to common labels, take your pick) + family they have more than they could value (or really understand) romance, and that's enough for them to feel fulfilled, or at least as fulfilled as someone in their situation gets. This is also just me hitting them with the arofication/irl projection beam. Can you guess my own stance on romance /j

30. Who is your lamb's second in command or closest follower?

Tulip and Sfish, their two (and only) disciples! Tulip is a black palla cat, Butcher's first follower, and works at the cult's morgue. Sfish is one of the gods who went into hiding during the god war, whom Butch ran into in Anchordeep and eventually befriended. He sometimes helps with crusades and co-leading the cult. He has existed longer than the Goat but is basically our version of the Goat. Sfish is my friend @//maddiespadez's OC and Tulip is also based off my other friend (@//tin1xxia on insta) who helped with parts of her design process + ideas for her story :3

However I think it would be blasphemous not to include the Fox in here as well. Fortunately he's not in the cult, nor does he even know where it is, but he's had quite the influence on certain decisions being made.

31. Is your lamb ever honest about their feelings or past? With who?

No <3 they've mentioned some small aspects of their past to trusted friends, but only one person knows about their whole past, and it's not because they told them.

32. Is your lamb merciful? Did they ever refuse to spare someone? If so, why?

To their loyal followers + their family/friends? Yeah! Very much!! To anyone else? Well let’s just say they hold their grudges.

33. Is your lamb trustworthy?

No!!!!!! That doesn’t always mean they’re actively out to get you or cause you harm, but they will mostly just do whatever they decide is best and not tell you if they know you’d disagree.

34. Is your lamb quick or slow to trust others?

Very slow. They're polite to their followers and the other vendors/npcs, and they obviously do place some trust in them, but they only actually fully trust like three people they've known for centuries, and even then they keep some secrets.

35. If your lamb could pick a cult job other than leader what would it be?

If it was up to them, they would not be working. But if you insist, they'd be either a musician/bard or a lumberjack.

36. Is your lamb a good cook?

They must be at least somewhat good at it to have kept the followers fed in the early days of the cult, but I don't think they have any special talent. They did eat mainly grass and berries before the cult though, so I imagine it was Ratau who lent them a recipe book so they could learn to actually cook for the cult. Also, it's mostly the followers cooking for themselves now, and Butcher doesn't cook any of the food they themselves eat either...so I suppose there is a genuine chance my guy has literally forgotten how to cook after so many centuries of not cooking.

37. Does your lamb let cult members cook or heal or do they restrict them from certain duties?

They have a dedicated cook, I think it's actually Yarlen! And I've not really thought about it, but there's probably doctors too, and followers are expected to handle more trivial/common health issues without help from the leader or their inner circle, but super serious stuff is handled by the disciples due to them having greater experience, being centuries old and all. And also sometimes you gotta keep secrets. Potentially dangerous materials, like mushrooms + ambrosia for example, are also locked away from the access of regular followers.

38. What is your lamb's favorite food or dish?

Heretic hearts were the best. But since we kind of ran out of those a while ago, God Tears or just fresh meat also act as a good replacement.

39. Does your lamb eat meat/fish/eggs?

They exclusively eat follower meat because anything else just doesn't sate them anymore. The Horrors Beyond Mortal Comprehension👍

40. What is your lamb's stance on cannibalism?

It's dangerous and harmful to both your body and your mind and it's entirely prohibited in their cult and discouraged!

...Unless you're Butcher or like 2 of their friends, then it's a-ok. No hypocrisy in this house.

41. What about their stance on torture?

Not worth the time usually, they'd much rather just get things over with if they have to kill someone. There's approximately 5 exceptions to that rule, but even then they were not directly involved in the torture for the most part. Trapping people in the psychological and literal hell that is purgatory can occasionally be an accident.

42. Would your lamb ever kill a cult member?

Yes, and they sure have. They do prefer to dispose of them in ways aren't as messy for them through.

43. How does your lamb deal with dissenters?

Eating them is of no use because they lack any devotion for them to actually feast on. When they were newer to the leader bizz, they lacked the charisma needed to properly reeducate them, and by the time their leader persona improved they had already found a simpler solution, so they don't even bother anymore. Sacrificing them would concern the followers. Killing them directly gets their cloak dirty. So they just lure them away from the cult in the night and throw them to the Fox. It shouldn't do much for him either, but for whatever reason he enjoys it more than them. He is just weird like that...but it has proven useful. It also gives them an excuse to visit him.

44. What is your lamb's favorite weapon? Their least favorite?

They main the battle axe because it was familiar to them from even before the sacrifice. I headcanon the crown defaults to whichever weapon best suits its bearer instead of starting as a sword, so Butcher naturally just got the axe from the beginning. They also like the dagger, but more so for intricate work rather than combat, and they probably enjoy a few other weapons (gun/blunderbust + mace/hammer), but the axe is on top.

I also think their least favourite would actually be the sword. They're so used to wielding heavy weapons that when they try to lift a sword they horribly overshoot it and throw it straight into the ceiling, Noelle Genshin Impact style.

45. Would they ever let a follower embrace their dark desire to eat poop?

No, for hygiene reasons. But also you're getting fed to the wolves for asking that as well, second worst sin after dissent /j

46. What is your lamb's favorite season?

I don't think my AU has seasons, at least not in Butcher's lifetime (because of the whole theory that the god responsible for the seasons changing was killed alongside the others so they just kinda. Froze on the spring/summer we have in-game) but maybe that'll change with the next game update?

47. Is your lamb's favorite color something other than red?

I think it would be green.

48. How does your lamb really feel about death?

Funnily enough, I think they're pretty chill about it most of the time. You live and you die. Unless you're special, then you live and you live. They've gotten used to that cycle a while ago, not much to stress about. The only people they care about now are immortal anyway.

49. Does your lamb use substances? Are substance banned from cult grounds?

[Answered!]

50. Freebie! Tell us any headcanon you want!

Well they really love music! They can play the drums and a mandolin as well :3

They're self taught on both of them and way too stubborn to ask for help though, so I assume (especially for the mandolin) that they got good at playing exclusively through years of trial and error and fucking around until something worked. Fortunately, when you're immortal, you get a lot of time to practice. They're hoping to learn more instruments in the future, maybe a lyre or a violin but they'll probably need to find someone to teach them that.

#so much text in this !! forgive any errors I am only a man (a lamb)#tbos au #the butcher of souls au #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #cotl ask game #50 lamb questions #also cus it's mentioned in a few of the questions #it's always funny to me how Butcher's gang consists of:#their two most trusted disciples. naturally.#...and also that one cannibal demon thing there in the water #the fox - honorary member of the council

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