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kth1 · 2 years

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Red vs Blue [KTH]

⟶ Red vs Blue [Taehyung x Female Reader] ⟶ Genre: Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Smut, 18+ ⟶ Game: Halo ⟶ Warnings: Adult themes, biting, nuzzling, cuddles, video game k*lling mentioned, smoking, shower sex, oc on the dom side, nipple play, hand job, blow job, squirting, unprotected, dirty talk, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Beta: @inkedtae - Thank you so much bee for reading through this fic! I appreciate your hard work and excitement you left within the comments! ⟶ Summary: Taehyung takes you back to memory lane when he reintroduces you to the game series the two of you have met on. He thinks it’s nostalgia that has you in great spirits, but really it’s the fact that he forgets you’re the better player when it comes to the Halo franchise. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “2 Player Games” series. 🎮 ⟶ Collaboration: Bangtan DLC: A Streamer BTS Collab hosted by @/joonscypher, @/kookskingdom, & @/lavienjin! Thank you all for hosting such a fun event!

The light tapping and spontaneous grunts coming from the other room would usually make one perk their ears up. Although for you, this is not the case because you already understand the reasons for hearing your boyfriend making all of these questionable noises. Ones that would even make the purist of persons concerned.

You crack open just one eye to look toward the doorway to see the light from your shared gaming room to be very well lit. Exactly how you last saw it right before planting yourself in bed around midnight. Now, you search your bedsheets for your phone to check the time and look for any notifications.

“It’s 6:43 in the morning!” You groan with your groggy voice.

Taehyung is hours deep in the nostalgia of memory lane as he’s indulging himself with every single Halo campaign in numerological order. Wanting to play each game start to finish before starting the newly released game: Halo Infinite. Determined with himself to relive his younger years where he has spent countless hours ranking up his own character — a seven foot tall spartan — and demolishing the online multiplayer community.

At least to him, he is a pretty good player… until he met you on the other side of the map.

You slowly step yourself slower to the opening of your gaming room and instantly spot the side of Taehyung’s massively deshilved head of hair. He’s leaning forward in his chair with a controller in both hands and his feet planted apart. His mouth is parted in concentration as his eyebrows move with each intense action he does in the game. You could sit for hours watching the way his whole body manages to get involved with these types of games. It also reminds you to look into getting a VR next time the two of you go shopping together.

“Tae,” you speak up, waiting to see if he hears you.

The response of him reacting to his sudden death after fighting off the coveninet horde, the enemies, is not exactly the response you were looking for.

This time you add a little more force with your call, taking note he is wearing a headset over his ears.

“Tae.”

You open the door wider, purposely swinging it to allow a small gust of air fan into the sticky room. Countless hours allowing all the electronics working their asses off and spitting out hot air will do that when there is no proper ventilation besides the small cracked window.

Taehyung twists his neck briefly, double-taking as he looks over at you before his thumb presses onto the pause button. It seizes the action on his large gaming monitor while he pulls his headset away from his ear nearest to you. His eyes are wide, a bit sunken and softly red with strain. He blinks, a small smirk creeping up on his teeth bitten lips as he transitions into an apologetic look.

“Hi…”

You look at him blankly in your tired state, eyes droopy from the early awakening from your slumber. He knows immediately that he has lost track of time and completely dedicated himself to a whole night of gaming; something that is not that uncommon in this apartment. As your eyes close slowly with your brows creasing up with concern, you sigh as you lean onto the door frame.

“Why are you still up at this hour? You know we have lunch with your parents in the afternoon.”

“I know – I know! I just got lost into gaming. I’m almost finished with the third campaign! I still have time to sleep,” he nods to himself as he looks over at the digital watch attached to the wall.

When you notice the way his face reacts as he realizes the time, dropping with alarm and worry, you couldn’t help but smile lazily. You shake your head, deciding to move yourself from the frame and begin walking back toward the vacant bedroom.

“Save the game where you are and come to bed,” you request over your shoulder as you descend away.

Walking back into the darkness of your room your eyes find instant relief from the lack of light. Your hands spread onto the mattress, creating a guide for your body to follow as you plop yourself back down onto its comfort. Your comforter still hoards a bit of your warmth, making the reentering process even more desirable for your sleepy state.

You curl up while tucking yourself under the safety of your blanket and nuzzle your head into one of your several pillows. Body begging to fall back asleep to catch a few more hours of rest.

So involved with the feeling of satisfaction, you hardly notice the shuffling of your boyfriend making his way into the room. His feet pad the floor with a slight heavy step; you can even hear the small cracking of his knees that pop from the movement while he groans with a stretch.

“I’m sorry for waking you…” Taehyung speaks with his softer voice as he slides under the covers.

His arms seek your body as he scoots closer to you, slinking them around you as he settles himself. Taehyung uses your hunched position to his advantage by molding his body against yours. He slightly shakes you with his hands to get your response when you don’t reply.

“Y/n?”

“What?” You exasperate as you shift yourself further into your pillow.

Taehyung prods the side of his face into your back like how a cat would show affection as his grip tightens around you.

“I said I'm sorry,” he repeats. “I love you.”

Silently, you take hold of his hand that hovers over top of you with one of your own. You slide your fingers on the back of his hand all the way up to the break of his knuckles. Interlocking your digits between them and securing a soft hold while drawing his palm closer to your chest to hold. You give his knuckles a quick peck and catch the scent of a faded smoky odor.

“I know. It’s ok,” you exhale out. “I love you too, Tae.”

Taehyung’s hand reaches over to your thigh as his other holds his cell phone up toward his face. He squeezes softly, in a ‘squish-squish’ type of way to make it seem like his gesture is coming off more cutesy than anything.

“Why do you seem annoyed with me?” He questions with a curious head tilt.

Through the side of your eye you can see the way his lips push out in a pout; either it be out of concentration to whatever he is focusing on his screen or his honest emotions portraying very obviously on his face.

Your foot pushes down on the gas pedal softly, accelerating the speed as you merge onto the busy highway on your way back home. It’s midday on a Saturday, where traffic is to be expected. Much like the restaurant Taehyung’s parents had invited the two of you to, thankfully with a reservation. But made parking a bit difficult when you were running late – no thanks to the man beside you.

“Because I am,” you admit as you focus on your mirrors and passing vehicles in the surrounding lanes.

The car goes silent beside the radio tuning into a commercial. You aren’t too far from the apartment complex, about 15 minutes out. You know you aren’t tired, but the man next to you surely is with the lack of sleep he has received. But you do know that he is the cause of why your mood is getting tainted.

“What did I do?”

Taehyung turns to look at you with a crease in his brows. The way his voice projects something of defense makes your blood begin to boil. To keep the communication with an even flow you decide to not act irrationally.

“You made us late to lunch. During lunch with your parents, who were happily treating us by the way – you acted a little rude by giving your phone more attention than the people in front of you. Like, you didn’t even see the sad look on your father’s face when he mentioned something that you’d enjoy and you didn’t even react to it because your eyes were glued to your screen.”

Glancing over to Taehyung quickly, you shoot him a look of distaste when you see a stain on the collar of his shirt – a shirt due to his lack of awareness, had he not noticed it was a shirt that needed to be washed. Yet failed to make it into the hamper, let alone the laundry you managed to do earlier in the week.

When you return your eyes to the road ahead, you try doing away your agitations with the shake of your head.

“I’m just a little annoyed with how you’ve been acting lately,” you confess softly. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. So please don’t be upset that I'm only expressing what is bothering me. Everything is minor things, but when it all adds up, I just don’t know how to understand it all.”

Taehyung retracts his palm from your thigh as his eyes search around for answers, responses. He lowers his phone to his lap while his hands run out over his thighs. He fidgets briefly, picking at a small chip in his perfect nail. No doubt he’ll probably find clippers the moment he steps through the door of the apartment to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” he states. “I just get really invested in things. I don’t mean to upset anyone.”

“And I love that for you. Because it's something you enjoy that is preoccupying your time. Sometimes you just need to separate it a bit to balance out the other important things to you. Like sleep for example.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds dryly, engrossed in his own thoughts. “I’ll try to do better and not neglect some things.”

You smirk as you turn onto your street, the car slowing down to a comfortable 30 miles per hour as you pass through the friendly neighborhood zones.

“Would you like to start when we get home? There’s a pile of dishes that still need to be washed and are sitting in the sink.”

Taehyung begins by being comprehensive at first, weighing the pros and cons of performing the duty of dishes. Clearly he has plans of going straight back to his video games, which you knew all too easily by the way he was overly gleeful of leaving his parents.

“Okay, I can do the –”

“– and clear out that ashtray you have in the gaming room. You can’t even see the design on the bottom of it anymore.”

“Y/n?”

Taehyung’s deep baritone voice casts through the empty hallway from the kitchen. He’s ripping off the seafoam green latex gloves from each hand before placing them over the nozzle of the sink. Taehyung removes an earbud to listen for noise, searching for your voice to reply back to him.

When you don’t respond, he’s calling out to you again. This time louder with a frown adorning his face as confusion fuses onto his features.

Taehyung removes both earpieces completely, using his phone to quickly silent the blasting music he has on so very loud. He steps out of the cozy apartment kitchen toward the entrance way of the hall, catching a glimpse of himself in the hanging mirror as he does. The mop of his black curls look defeated with grease, needing a nice wash themselves but he chooses to wait for a shower later in the night.

He grabs a beanie hung from one of the coat hooks, placing it over his hair after slicking it back. Taehyung hears noise from the gaming room, so his feet take him there in a jiffy. With all common knowledge, it makes the most sense that it must be you who is the cause of those sounds.

Taehyung presses his fingertips into the door, pushing it inward to reveal the room. It is such a wonderful office space which serves as both of your favorite hobbies. Decked out with an abundant amount of gamer merch that pleases both of you. There is a slight contrast between your two spaces that sit side-by-side. His has more space, to accompany his occasional streams for Twitch. Colored in an array of cool tones and some dark undertones. A small cactus plant sits comfortably on his desk, a small keychain of Mario hanging off of it.

While your set up lights the room with the boldness of black and reds, an occasional cute theme that offsets the layout of your desk and chair hides as your desktop background. A customized Tails (from Sonic the Hedgehog) art piece is propped against your tower, right next to the miniature Nami figurine from League of Legends.

The two of you have your own specific tastes after all. So when it came to combining the two stations together, neither one of you put up an argument about aesthetics. Favoring in enjoying the unmatched parallels which simply end up matching in their own unique ways.

Taehyung's lips stretch into a wide grin when he notices you. You managed to pull over the futon which was stacked in the far corner of the room to the front of the large flat screen instead of using your own gaming chair. You lounge lazily into it, leg bent up as your one heel digs into the cushion below while the other leg is tucked under to partially sit yourself on.

You lean forward, headset on as you speak to whoever is on the other end while your thumbs run rampant over the buttons of your controller.

“You know I don’t run head first into the enemy. I’ll sit back with the sniper and you can be the idiot who gets himself killed when you run straight into their entire team.”

Taehyung moves over to you, his presence makes you flicker your eyes to him briefly from the sudden motion to your side. You stifle a laugh from the person on your headset who curses back to you, but your eyes smile when you look up at your boyfriend who starts giving you funny facial gestures. His hands motion back and forth between the controller and screen, noticing how you are playing Halo; the game which has been keeping him up long hours of the night and the game you put blame onto his hyper fixations.

Which is completely true and he owns up to that.

But unlike him, you aren’t playing the campaigns. You have skipped through all of the older games – even your favorite which is Halo: Reach – to be playing the newest game. The one he has yet to touch because he is so driven to complete all campaigns in order from start to finish.

Halo Infinite.

“Really now?” Taehyung’s voice comes out with amusement. “You banish me away to slave at dishes and I come back to seeing you playing the new game without me?”

You raise your brows to match his, playing into his charade of playful banter and hilarity. Quickly, you find an area to crotch your character down and out of view as you are still playing a live multiplayer match with someone.

But the lopsided grin you have on your face doesn’t leave you for a single second.

Shrugging in your seat, you bite down on your bottom lip while taming the erratic giggle you wish to unleash.

“Well, you still need to clean the ashtray. And I was asked to play.”

The corner of Taehyung’s lips turn down abruptly, eyebrows pinching together as he tilts his head. It’s comedic how fast he displays his confusion. The words that follow right after make you nearly burst open in a fit of laughter.

“Don’t tell me it was Jin.”

“It was,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

Knowing so very well that Taehyung isn’t fond of you enjoying the game first and without him and now that his hyung requested you to play in his absence, you thrive with mischief.

“What the hell,” he laughs as his hands shoot out to grab your controller.

Although you are fast in pulling the device closer to you and out of his reach. It only makes Taehyung nearly collapse on you to reach for it. His body is pushing you over on the futon as you start stretching your arm up and away from him while you’re attempting to push him away with all your other limbs.

“I’m still playing! I’m playing!” You snort out while your eyes glance over at the screen, watching your character shift in its crouched position as you fumble the controller in your hand.

Your headset begins to slide off your ears the more you wiggle around. You hear Taehyung making accusatory jabs at Jin while Jin responds back with his own enjoyment of the battle. All the while you beg for Taehyung to stop fighting over the thing in your hand.

Taehyung’s impulsive retaliation results in him placing an open mouth on the nearest part of your body to slightly bite you. It started with the side of your arm but rapidly made his way up to the crease of your neck.

“Give it to me,” he beckons with his own giggles as you fight him off.

His hands are heedlessly outstretching to your wrists and hands, trying to hold your one arm back while pursuing the damn controller in the other. In the matter of seconds, you go from a strong determined woman to a squealing little girl as his mouth and breath begins to tickle your sensitive neck.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” You cry with laughter. You’re frustrated with how funny and upsetting it is that you are undeniably losing your miniature brawl with your boyfriend.

Taehyung’s mouth continues to make eating noises onto your skin, his boyish giggle carving out the most sweetest corners of your heart. He nuzzles his face closer, threatening to bite into your flesh and suck onto you exactly how he knows you like it.

“Nope,” he states. “Give me the controller,” he chuckles.

“Clean the ashtray!” You rebuttal. “Or I'll just move in with Jin if you don’t.”

The two of you begin tittering together when the panic in Jin’s voice over the headset calls out saying, “I don’t want either of you!”

You’re caught off guard momentarily as an enemy comes up behind your character on screen and immediately sticks your spartan with a sticky grenade. Your immediate death is permanent and you scream out a call of defeat.

“Oh, Taehyung! You messed up my KDA!” – you pout angrily – “and now they have the sniper!”

Your boyfriend finally calms down his movements, exhausting his weight and limbs on top of you.

“I don’t care,” he speaks. “I am offended you played without me.”

You snap your tongue to the roof of your mouth with a tsk-sound. You drop the controller, ignoring the fact that your character respawned in the game, and push against Taehyung’s shoulders to move him.

“You were going through all the campaigns and taking your leisure time with it. Whereas you could have just asked me to play like Jin did and then we wouldn’t be here.”

“But you knew I wanted to play. I just wanted to relieve the memories of the stories.”

“We still can play. It’s not like I am ahead of you in learning the new maps or anything. I’ve played two rounds so far. I’m still adapting.”

Taehyung pushes up from the futon with his palms, his body still lying against yours and pinning you down to the cushion. He lifts his upper half, squinting down at you with a denunciative look.

“It’s not the same!”

“Just play now, – after finishing the two things I asked you to do!” You say as you purse your lips together. “I won’t play anymore until you are finished. Will that help?”

Taehyung’s eyes jump over to look at his awaiting ashtray that sits near the window sill. It collects the dried embers of his occasional cigarette and blunt usage. There is even a small box off to the side that holds the tobacco-leaf wraps and his small stash of weed safely.

“I could go for another one actually,” he pushes himself off of you completely. His hand pats you on your head briefly as he walks around the futon.

You readjust yourself, sitting upright and facing the television screen once more. Picking up where the game is currently at, you try to maneuver around the map to play catch-up with your other teammates. Under your breath, you mumble to Taehyung about opening the window before he does.

“You back now?” Jin’s voice prompted over the headset into your ears.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

The chill of cool air from the window crashes onto your skin, sending a single roll of goosebumps down your arms. Your thumbs twiddle across the varieties of buttons and analog sticks. You fairwarn Jin of an oncoming enemy who has just run behind a rock crevice while you chase from behind. Speedily, you begin chucking your grenades into the entrance where the enemy ran into – hoping to damage the person if they still remain nearby.

The faint smell of smoke drifts into your nostrils, alerting your senses that Taehyung finally lit his cigarette into the air. Your nose crinkles slightly, pushing out a whiff of air just to remove the scent that lingers.

“Do you remember when you met me?” You hear Taehyung’s voice call out to you, muffled by the security of your headset.

You pull the ear piece back to hear him clearer while you let Jin know you were going to mute your end of the call.

“I do,” you nod. Keeping your eyes onto the screen, you multitask by performing in the game while having small talk with Taehyung who sits behind you at his desk and out of your view.

“You were much more of a punk back then,” you airly laugh.

“You never wanted to die,” Taehyung returns the minor attack you lash on him. He huffed a laugh, flicking the coffin nail between his fingers to let the ash fall into its reserved tray.

“Not by you, that’s for sure.” You clarify to him, “That’s why it was always difficult for you to get to me. I purposely stayed away at a distance.”

“It’s your type of playstyle though. Plus you are good at the game. Well, when you played consistently of course. I even lost my touch after many years. But I still remember how decent of a headshot you were.”

You twist your head to look over at him after receiving another random death in game. You see how Taehyung leans back into his gaming chair, reclining it back to lounge even further as he stares aimlessly up at the ceiling. His long, veiny hand holds the butt of the cigarette so easily, almost looking like he’s hardly grasping it as it rests snug between his fingers.

“You of all people would know that the most,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

A pleasant smile spreads on his face, gaiety radiating through his pores as he raises his hand to his lips.

“Oh, I know,” he chuckles before inhaling. “But I always kept coming for you. ‘Miss Red’.”

“‘Mr. Blue’.”

You shake your head, holding back the giggle in your chest. You return your attention to the game which is close to ending; only a few more kills are needed to reach 100 in total for your team to take victory.

You center your character in the parameter of the map, having managed to get yourself another sniper out of pure luck. You quickly scope in and out, constantly checking your vision and surroundings for any far or nearby enemies. You hear gunshots in the distance, Jin communicating call-outs and seeing a handful of your teammates shooting their assault rifles around a pile of enemies and vehicles.

Patiently, you wait for your golden opportunity to snipe someone. Whether it be a clean headshot or hitting an enemy and knocking their health down to one hit – giving your teammates access to kill them easier.

When you start shooting, you miss initially. Your second round snags a body and damages someone. While the third round misses completely. Not bothering with the last round in your clip, you instantly reload while scanning your bordering surroundings. The map is chaotic, the tally of death neck and neck as bodies throw themselves into the midst of it all.

Finally, you were able to find an enemy who took one of the lifts on the map – sending them high into the air and halfway across the area. As they float in an air current, you snipe them down seconds from landing.

Ending the game completely and coming out victorious!

You cheer along with Jin, exhaling a sigh as if you were holding in your breath for too long. Waiting for the credits and match results to load onto the transitioning screen, you feel a palm snake up the side of your shoulder. Taehyung’s fingers travel from your clavicle and up your neck, hooking around your jaw until his palm can cup your chin.

He tilts you back to look at him, your eyes wide with wonder and confusion. You stare at him from your angle, his jaw cuts out sharp but the rounds of his cheeks are just as notable. A small shadow casts off his face from the lighting above while he stares down at you with smoke leaking slowly out of his parted mouth. He looks dangerous even with that growing 5 o’clock shadow on his upper lip. You have half a mind to question him on what is going on inside his head, but he interrupts your thoughts instead.

“Good job,” he smiles abruptly. Breaking that serious-looking demaner in an instant. “Am I allowed to play now?”

“Sure,” you hum.

He releases your chin from his grip as he makes his way back around to the front of the futon. Taehyung grabs himself a controller from the entertainment stand and double-checks if the battery is well charged. Once the emblem of the controller stops blinking and it lights, telling him that it is fully equipped and ready to go, he takes a seat next to you.

Taehyung points to your headset, “Tell him you’re jumping games.”

“What?” you quiz him, “Why?”

“Because I want to play Firefight on Reach. Whoever gets the most kills between us two wins.”

You stare at him, baffled at his declaration of battle. Even more disoriented when he leans in and gives you a quick chaste kiss on your lips; smiling to himself as he’s gripping the headset off of your head and quickly placing it on his head to speak with Jin as you fail to do.

“Hyung,” he starts abruptly. “Y/n and I are going to battle another on Halo: Reach right now. We’ll come back later to play,” he says as he stares you down.

“What’s the deal? Who cares about who wins?” you attempt to grab the headset from him, although he pulls the connection from your controller to disconnect voice from the chat.

“Winner gets the prize of telling what the other needs to do for the rest of the night,” he challenges you.

“And actually obey said orders?” You lean back with a skeptical look.

“Precisely.”

“Is this your way of thinking you are getting back at me for requesting you to clean up a little bit?”

Taehyung shrugs to himself, avoiding eye contact for a moment as his hand grabs your controller to take a hold of. He maneuvers through the xbox screens, jumping from one game to the next.

“But it’s a game you are good at. So shouldn’t you be winning the deal anyways?” He smiles to himself.

“But you’ve been playing countless hours of campaign and have more experience on the games compared to me right now. And even though I was better than you at this game in the past, why would you make the deal to lose if I am supposed to be winning? As you have said.” You retort back. “You make no sense right now,” you laugh.

Taehyung enters both of you in the lobby to the game mode called Firefight. In this case, it is a cooperative mode where players work with one another to fight against endless waves of reinforcement Covenant attackers. Where there are five Waves in a Round and three Rounds in a Set. It is also a mode to which it is endless and can be played for hours on end as long as you stay alive.

“We will put it on hard mode and add all the challenging perks, so our deaths probably will be quicker rather than spending all night playing the mode. How does that sound to you?”

You shrug it off, not putting too much care into the thought process of it. If it makes Taehyung happy, then you’ll do it for him.

“Whatever you want,” you say.

Grabbing your controller back, you settle yourself into your futon. You wait until each of you are prepared and ready. When the countdown on the screen marks to zero and the screen enters into another transition, you declare how he is your enemy once again.

The round starts off easy. You obtain the guns you need that spawn either on the map or in an ordinance drop while making sure you take positioning in an optimal area to begin getting the most kills. It is a race after all, having to share the hordes that come at you while trying to take them all out before he can even touch them.

The small aliens classified as a “Grunt” come out slowly, saying the most hilarious dialog all the while you and Taehyung rush to slay and murder them down with your guns and granades. It has been agreed that either the first to 150 kills win or whoever has the most kills after all lives have been used wins.

And with all these upgraded perks that amplify the enemy waves… you know it will be an intense hellstorm on the map the entire time.

You have agreed to play on the map called Courtyard. It’s an open map featuring a loading area outside the structure called Sword Base. It provides a landing, bridge, terrace, walkway, and much more. Both Taehyung and you shoot and shoot, adding to the total body count to each of your tallies. You try your hardest to not monitor his screen as much; you need to stay focused after all.

Your speakers shout out your killing sprees in respective order. They also remind you of your combination kills, especially when you grab a rocket launcher and gun down enemies like a mad man. A couple of times Taehyung purposely took a kill away from you, making you a bit furious the more times it ‘accidentally’ happens.

So, you do it in return when you can. Making the table a fair and even chance.

“Stop dying,” you mutter as you poke fun at him.

“Catch up,” he jests back.

You begin camping areas where enemies walk out at every wave. Making sure you stock up at every ammunition station you can in between miniature breaks of killing.

The challenge between you and Taehyung lasts close to a full hour. It surprises the both of you to be honest, however – the last shared death goes to Taehyung who ends up being trapped between a Hunter and a hard place. Now it is you who is solely left on the map to clean up the rest of the enemies who now pursue you.

You have no time to check the difference between kills at the moment, not when you have Jackals shooting their plasma guns your way. But when the announcer on the game tells you that you are on a rampage, you feel a bit more confident with your positioning.

Until you notice that un-killed Hunter who stomps toward your area with a rush of other enemies. You chuck all your grenades as strategically as much. The word “Untouchable” eventually alerts your senses, letting you know that means you have at least finished off 50 enemies without dying in this life of your character.

Panic begins striking your system the closer the horde gets to you. You attempt to pick off who you can, earning a small more amount of kills before you face your impending doom. The shields on your spartan break ruthlessly, making your character completely vulnerable to the next couple of hits.

Until you are finally picked off. Finished and the game ends with your final breath.

The overlay result screen pops up, giving the overall recap of the game that just took place. Points aside, it shows both yours and Taehyung’s usernames as a list. Following after shows the amount of deaths each person took and how many kills each obtained.

By a far difference, each of you received over the accounted amount of kills. Proving to you that you had completely forgotten about the overall kill deal, and seemingly so did he. However, the two of you continued to play until the final life was used and aimed to find out who had the most.

You have cleared 332 enemies, where Taehyung has only cleared 287. Reining you the supreme winner by a whopping 45 extra kills under your belt!

Letting out a dry laugh, you turn to look at him with satisfaction.

“So I did end up winning, huh?”

“So it seems,” he nods his head. “You were always a great shot.”

You remain humble about it, keeping a modest view to the undeniable skill you manage to have. It’s nothing to be incredibly proud about, but it does make you feel slightly happy knowing you are decent at something.

“Thank you,” you sit back on the futon.

You lay your head against the backing of the folded cushion, still facing Taehyung as you admire his side profile. He fiddles with his phone in his hand, typing out a text to someone before placing the device to the side.

“I just told the group chat that we are available to play,” he mumbles. He too leans back to look over at you. His face gives you a pointed expression.

“Is that what you want?”

“If you want to, yeah.”

You fake ponder as you draw your finger to your lips, tapping it slowly and looking elsewhere.

“Hm, I’m not sure. Don’t I get to call the shots for the rest of the night?”

“Of course,” he agrees.

You stare into him, admire the way his eyes – dark brown like a beautiful deep shade of jasper – glance back into your own. He has a unique speck right on the lower left white of his left eye while his right eye sports a small freckle on his waterline. He looks at you softly, fondly.

Your eyes follow the natural contour of his nose, right to the spotted freckle that lays off-center at the tip. He purposely flexes his nostrils just to make you smile in return. But you continue to look lower. Meeting his lips which shine with a thin layer of chapstick. He has a very prominent cupid’s bow and wide mouth, making his lips seem so desirable and kissable.

But behind those pair of lips are a sweet boyish smile, whenever he wants to show it. The kind of smile that makes your heart feel warm and melt with ooze dripping out of every crack it’s been given over the years.

“Y/n,” he speaks, but you continue to stare. “Are you really just staring at me?”

“Yes I am,” you nod. “You’re very attractive and you know that. So I don’t know why you’re questioning me for looking at my own boyfriend.”

“Looking and undressing me are two different things.”

You lean your head up with a spark to your eye. “You do have a cute butt,” you admit with a smirk. “I am quite fond of it.”

He can’t help but give you a lopsided grin, eyes full of amusement and mirth. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, “I have no response to that.”

“Good. Then it’s settled,” you state. You reach over to him, grabbing at his forearms to tug him forward toward you. “Just kiss me,” you hum as your eyes flutter shut the closer he gets.

The warm plush of his pout places itself on your own lips, pushing softly. You exhale slowly, savoring the sweet and slow kiss. When he dares to part with you, you’re left there with a frown – eyes still shut and ready to dive deeper into the feelings that start to boil within.

“Again,” you demand with the pull of his arms.

And Taehyung does just that.

He smiles into his next kiss. His tongue comes poking out ever so slightly, wetting the pieces of his lips that part open and tentatively touching yours. When you feel the warm wetness prod you, you greatly accept the gift.

Slowly, his tongue slips itself further, deeper, into your mouth. Licking at the back of your teeth the wider you open up. You feel the change of your breath turn from a relaxed state to something more exciting, trying to keep up with the luscious movements of the make-out session.

You stop Taehyung when you sense the movement of his hand coming up to touch your face. Confusing him as you suddenly pull away and begin to stand up.

“Shower,” you direct him with a gesture of your hand. “After you empty out the ashes, can you please take a shower? Remember, you gave me this power for winning.”

Taehyung grabs your wrist, pulling your hand down to lock it with his own. He gives you a look of plea, “Come with me then.”

You bend to level your head with his, face inching closer at a swift place. A creative smile colors your face, the crack in your lip doesn’t hide your spirited strive. Taehyung feels the way you set yourself up for another kiss, instantly leaning in with a soft smile himself. Though you hover his lips with yours just mere centimeters away.

With purposely hooded eyes, you look down at his face. Your smile turns into a playful smirk, a devious idea popping in your head to only tease your boyfriend.

“I’m giving you two minutes to clean the last thing I asked of you to join me. If you’re late I will lock the door.”

You stand straight as your hand begins playing with the hem of your shirt. You lift it up slightly to show some skin in a frisky manner, giving Taehyung a look that dares him to hurry up.

Leaving the gaming room, you toss your shirt over your head to make it land right in the entrance way. Giving Taehyung motivation and images of your clothes ridden body as you step out of his view. The washroom isn’t much farther down the hall.

Only about three long strides until you’re stepping right onto the beige stone tiles and reaching into the closet for the fluffiest towel in preparation. The scutter of Taehyung can be heard easily, his excitement making him sound like a puppy hurriedly padding its way to chase the ball you tossed for it. In this sense the ball is a metaphor for the promise of your naked body lathered up with water and soapsuds.

A sheepish smile wears on your face as you listen to his enthusiasm, making the action of stripping off your clothes and turning the hot water on equally as rushed. You wait patiently for the faucet to spray down the temperature you find ideal, your hand gripping the sheer shower curtain as you step in hastily.

The tickle of water droplets smacking into your skin, burning your body exactly how you enjoy it, causes goosebumps to rise and fall. The warmth lathers you so deliciously, so comfortably. It reminds you of how much you thoroughly thank the inventor of the shower.

By the time you reach out to the bar of soap you hear the forceful push of the bathroom door, Taehyung’s body nearly tripping inside but catches himself before he falls face first into the countertop.

“Has it already been two minutes yet?” His voice comes out with a curious whine to it.

Regardless of the time, he is already pushing down his bottoms to his ankles and lifting his shirt over his head. The heaviness in his steps makes you laugh, knowing he’s practically trampling over everything to get to you.

“Three, actually. But who’s counting?”

You say it to be funny. Only poking fun at him a bit more, because what would this relationship be without a bit of playful verbiage?

Taehyung swings the shower curtain in one swift movement, a rush of cool air entering your heated temperature zone and making you frown. Your back is facing him as your front takes on the blast of the cascading water, your arms hugging around your front as you turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

Your frown drops to the ground when you take in your boyfriend, bare and readily moving in to stand right behind you. There’s no hesitation with the way his arms come to wrap around you, pushing you a bit further into the running water and closing his proximity.

It’s utterly domestic between the two of you, having shared a single shower more times you could count. It’s not always often, but it has become such a casual experience that neither one of you feel the butterflies of nervousness. When your body tries fighting the scariness of exposing yourself in broad daylight to another.

Now it’s nothing but second nature. Comfort. Easily adjusted to.

And you can tell this by the way Taehyung already wants to replace his hands with yours. Gripping the soap for himself but rubbing it between his palms first to spread the residue onto your skin first. He never misses the opportunity to run the soap across your hips and up to your breasts. Squeezing lightly as the slipperiness becomes enjoyable.

You know you get into dangerous territories when Taehyung takes it a step further. Instead of him graciously cuffing your mounds with delicacy – as they should be treated – his large slender hands grip your ample breasts harder. Lengthy fingers seeking the bud of your pert nipples and lightly pinching them between his nails to make them harder.

Your body flinches to the temporary pain, squirming to wiggle out of his grip and turning in spot. Your disgruntled voice only comes off as fun-loving, especially when your hand slaps into the side of his arm as a rebuttal. Though you only grant him more access to your exposed tits.

“Come here,” he nearly purrs with warmth.

His hands wrap around your waist, tugging you closer to him as he presses your naked bodies together. The appendage that hangs between his legs slowly begins to harden, pressing noticeable against you.

You laugh at him as he attempts to dip his head toward your chest, halting him with your hands first. Tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth, you roll your eyes as your hands reach to his head.

“You still have a beanie on, you idiot.”

He smiles shamelessly, pushing past the giddiness in his body and focusing on the other emotions fueling him.

Lust.

“Whoops,” Taehyung says non-apologetically.

His lock of hair flops like a deflated balloon as you release it from the hat. It’s slicked back against his head, shining his full forehead to you. His toothy grin makes you smile in return as he leans into you, securing his lips once more to yours as you toss the useless garment over the rod of the curtains.

You speak in between breathless kisses, “You know I still have control.”

Taehyung’s hands find their way to your backside, carving out the curves of your body and cupping under each one of your ass cheeks. His tongue threatens your mouth as it pushes past your lips in a hast, teeth lightly tapping into yours as you begin to protest.

“Taehyung,” you warn.

He hums as if he’s questioning what you want. His face remains innocent yet you see the twitch of the corner of his lips and dishonest spark in his eyes.

The little shit knows he’s trying to get himself out of the deal by acting coy.

“Take your hands off of me,” you request as your fingers run up through his greasy hair.

You grip the locks in a loose fist, just enough to control the way his head tilts. He obeys reluctantly, nearly giving you a glare as you cut off his fun.

From the way you angle his head, you expose his neck more. It stretches beautifully, showing all the delectable edgings from underneath. You spy unshaved hairs close to the corner of his jawbone, cute peach fuzz lingering under the underside.

Tugging his hair just a bit more you earn a faint grunt from him. Slowly, you lean in to plant soft kisses across the skin of his neck. You favor the lump of his Adam’s apple first before moving down to the point of his clavicle.

Pressing against his chest, you push him into swapping positions with you. He now faces the water, even some of it sprays off his shoulders as you step him more under the shower. It soaks his hair instantly, whereas you begin loosening up your grip and start to reach for his bottle of shampoo.

Drawing out some of the smooth liquid from the cap, you fill your palm with a small amount of product and begin rubbing your hands together to spread it. It foams between your fingers as you lather it into the roots of his scale, massaging as you go with your fingertips.

Taehyung closes his eyes to enjoy the pampering sensation as you help clean him. Little does he know, you’re stepping closer to push yourself against him until it’s too late. When his cock feels the contact of your body pushing up against it but minding it no business.

Your hands act like magic, moving across his scalp and down the back of his neck. Pressing harder onto the taut muscles that relieves stress.

Taehyung groans softly, his eyebrows flicking up as his eyes remain close. You spot the growing smile on his face the more he enjoys himself.

You beckon him to tilt his head back into the water, letting the product rinse itself out as your hands come to his chest. Your thumbs swipe over his pectoral muscles, finding entertainment by pushing down on his nipples – just as he was doing to you before.

But with your power in much demand – very noticeable with the growing erection between the two of you – you propel lower. Your hands follow the flow of water down his abdomen, tracing lines into his oblique muscles and toward the fuzz growing from his pelvis.

Looking back toward him, you realize he cracks open an eye to watch you as your palms travel to the base of his cock. He gives you a penetrating gaze even through a hooded eye, one that calls out to challenge you to touch him. A silent beg for you to grip around him and help him get harder.

When your fingers lace around his shaft, slowly feeling every inch of his circumference as you do, you feel him twitch excitaly with the contact. His lips part, a desperate exhale shivering out of him while the water beads leak down the sides of his face.

God, he’s so doubtlessly handsome that it hurts.

You give him a leisurely yank as you twist your wrist. Your palm feels him up completely, from base to tip and back down. A gifted cock he is blessed, that’s for sure.

Taehyung allows you to take your pace. He’s curious to figure out what you want to do with him, so he awaits your next move.

“Is the shampoo all out?” You quirk an eyebrow to him.

He runs his fingers up to his hair. It gives him something to do with them as you banished him from touching you. When he feels the last remains of the suds strip from his dark strands, he nods.

“Want me to do yours?’ His caring voice comes out, referencing your hair which hasn’t much touched the water.

“Not yet,” you hush him with another tug of his shaft. Your fingers experimentally squeeze around him, applying delectable pleasure to provoke the blood flow to his dick.

Lowering yourself down, you kneel cautiously against the flooring of the shower. You use his body as a guard from the falling water, hardly getting hit as he shields the brunt of it. But you level yourself to the tip of his cock which stares at you, grown angrier the longer it doesn’t get attention.

“You want me to?” You look up to him through your eyelashes with a know it all smile.

“Please,” he says in a lower register; Adam’s apple bobbing with his quick swallow.

Taking your own time, you purposely lean in unhurriedly. Your fist keeps his cock upright, pointing towards your mouth. But you choose to pass his tip and instead place your soft lips against the side of his shaft. You repeat the actions. Slowly and tantalizing.

You want to draw out the teasing. Wire Taehyung up to make him crave you the most. He fidgets his fingers that hover your head, wanting to guide you to the place he needs you the most. Practically ghosting over your neck with his palm before you call out to him and tell him to stop it.

He groans a minor annoyance, but he isn’t truly mad. He’s just pinned with this marvelous switch up of dominance, and accepting the rules is proving to you that he cares.

“Y/n, please,” he whines out with a pout.

His cock twitches the next time your lips come in contact with it. Eagerness ready to dive off the deep end and plummet into the pool of sexual ardor.

Your eyes glue to his; mouth opening enough to allow your tongue to swipe the underside of his cock and against his frenulum. The sensitive stripe of skin that drives Taehyung’s senses into overdrive in an instant.

Taehyung's hips edge just an inch closer to you, egging you on to continue your actions. You see the pain beginning to form behind his eyes, the type of pain that he battles with himself. Clouded lust fogging his head as your lips wrap around the tip of his cock and start to sink further down.

You finally earn your first gasp from him. His head wanting to lull back yet he must stabilize his balance especially with the water at his feet.

“Fuck –” he slurs.

His body reacts as it normally does, driven with greed to feel more. Because he needs more. So he whispers and begs for you to be faster for him. To treat him how he wishes he could treat you.

You sink further, maintaining your breath through your nose and hollowing out your cheeks. You slurp on your way up his cock, smiling to yourself when you hear Taehyung exhale once more.

“You know it feels better when I go slow,” you remind him while the tip of your tongue trails between the slit of his cockhead. It’s so smooth, easy to glide around the more you trace your saliva across it. “Your cock is so needy,” you comment when you land a sweet innocent kiss on its head.

Taehyung’s face scrunches up, an expression of agony and worry dressing him from head to toe. He’s desperate to grab you, breaking your rule straight away when he thinks you’re going to leave him hanging there.

“It needs you,” he comments.

“I didn’t say you could control me, did I?” Your hand taps his thigh angrily. “I’m being nice to you and you’re just ready to –”

“– yes I’m trying to. Of course I’m going to try!” He argues with a laugh, “You’re giving me these teasing kitten licks like I’m a lollipop and it’s –”

“– ah! So you understand what it’s like when you do this to me then?” You smirk back as you inch yourself to him again. Your fist tightens more, feeling the swelling of his cock stiffen more. “Now don’t touch me, otherwise I’ll stop completely.”

Taehyung growls almost in a murmur, grumpy but obedient. His hand lands on a ledge built into the wall beside him, using it as his anchor to keep him balanced as your mouth meets his cock.

You widen your lips, your devilous tongue swiping out under him as you sink down as far as you can go. When you close your mouth securely around his shaft, you suck in repetitions. The steam of the shower makes the air thicker, harder to breathe but not undoable as you take your time with Taehyung.

His cock threatens to break past your comfortable state when you hear a deep moan from above. You peer up at him, his eyes closed in concentration as he leans closer and closer to the wall. Water starts spraying past him, hitting your body and soon your face.

Taehyung’s hips stutter as he lets out a shaky breath, commenting to himself – or you – how dirty the drops on your face now makes you.

“God, I want to cum all on your face.”

You tease by pushing him deeper in your mouth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. To send him even more into the pit of pleasure, you hum as you hold him there. Letting the vibrations of your throat rumble and shake his twitching cock.

Shaking your head slowly, you alert him that you’re declining that request. You don’t want to give him that satisfaction. Not tonight.

You want your own satisfaction.

Pulling off of Taehyung abruptly, you stand up from your spot. Your knees ache from the position, but feels instantly better when you straighten them out. Before Taehyung can retaliate, you are already moving your face to his. He reads you instantly, latching your lips onto his. The need and desperation of having another sparks a strong tension, making the way his lips curl into a smile fuels the jitteriness between the two of you.

Your hand grabs at his hair again, the wet locks making it easier to get your fingers stuck in them. As you push your tongue into his, your other hand guides his cock between your thighs. You pinch them close on purpose, to give a squeezing friction while you move your hips.

“Fuck me,” you whisper against his mouth. “Then wash me afterwards. Every inch of me.”

Taehyung takes your order as a cue to grope your body with his hands. Sliding his palms across your skin and making sure there’s no place left untouched. He graciously swipes a hand under your thigh, hoisting it up and over his hip. He sucks in a harsh breath as he twists you, letting your back land against the sidewall of the shower.

He shifts you up as much. Taehyung’s main concern is making sure neither one of you slips from the hazards of the shower. But that concern grows dim when he witnesses the glistening of your pussy when it spreads open, eagerly greeting and awaiting his cock to fill.

He’s aware of not getting water between the two of you. It would only wash away everything your body worked up to make to prepare for this. So Taehyung acts fast, his fingers coming down between you two to test your slickness. Make sure it’s enough for him to ram his dick right into you.

Taehyung dips a fingertip into your entrance, exploring your velvety walls. When your cunt eager clenches, sucks against him, he sighs relief.

“Hurry,” you snap as your arms link around his neck.

Balancing on one foot is already difficult, so you must rely on Taehyung to control all the next movements.

You feel his cockhead slide between your folds, gathering up the lubricate to his tip as he circles your entrance. He angles himself lower, just to get up underneath you. So that eventually when he plunges his cock straight into you, his motion lifts you with him.

Back running up the cool tile behind you, your head hangs forward with the initial thrust into you. You let out a whimper of pleasure, arms tightening around your boyfriend as you feel every delectable inch of his cock break through your tight walls and nosedive straight into your deepest corners.

The sudden stride nearly knocks the wind out of you, your body flinching from the abruptness. You bite your bottom lip, moan through your teeth. Taehyung whispers a comment of concern, checking in on you before he continues to shallowly rut into you the way he wants to.

And when you respond with the most, dirtiest, naughty girl “uh-huh” moan – you feel Taehyung’s entire body shiver.

“Fuck – don’t say it like that,” he growls. His cock twitches at the sound. His words completely go against the way his body is reacting.

He pushes into you after pulling out enough to leave his tip in. The heaviness of his body lays against you, pins you against him and the wall. Both of Taehyung’s hands hold onto your body, one lifting your thigh up higher with each thrust and the other slithering around to your back to hold you upright. Each of his feet feel nailed completely to the ground, practically cemented in his stance as he uses all his strength to accommodate your body.

The whiny voice he warns you about gives you more devious ideas; wanting him to come completely undone right before you. So you continue to keep that higher pitch tone, especially with the way his thrusts turn rougher because of it.

“Yes,” you moan into his ear. Gasping when he snaps his hips into you and cock nestled deep into your cunt. “Oh god, yes. Fuck me, Tae!”

Your fingernails leave red lines in their wake, scratching across his shoulders as you hold onto him for dear life.

“You’re so dirty for doing that,” he comments. The strain in his voice only alerts you of his anguish. He’s loving and hating it.

“You’re going to clean me up though, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll clean you real good, baby. After I cum all over you,” he promises as he submerges his cockhead to the point he hits your cervix.

He can feel the limits of your pussy, knowing that shoving more or harder will end up hurting you in return. So he sits there, rolls his hips in such a swift fluid motion that the showerhead above would even be jealous.

Taehyung nudges his nose against your head, his lips finding a piece of your cheek to kiss as he begs for you to touch yourself.

“Rub yourself out for me,” he urges.

His eyes remain connected to the sight between you, admiring the way his dick vanishes inside of you. Your hand comes out with no hesitation, slipping between the two of you as your deft digits work on your exposed clit. The bud engorged and perky.

It doesn’t take long for you to find the rhythm you crave. Running your fingertips around in quick circles. Simultaneously feeling your muscles jerk as they tighten and release, anticipating that growing orgasm that’s building up inside your body.

“Harder,” you gasp out. “Fuck me a little harder. I’m almost there!”

He listens, reacts instantly. His cock shoves deeper, the snapping of his hips more evident as you feel the passion with each thrust. When he angles himself in the perfect way, it has you spasming around him in an instant.

Fallen curses leave your mouth, your fingers still rolling your clit like it’s a joystick and you’re playing your own game on yourself. Succeeding to the jackpot which coincidentally is your rushing orgasm that forces your head to rail back into the wall.

It feels blissful, exactly what your body needs and enjoys.

Taehyung looks up at you with concerned eyes, gauging your reaction on the way your face scrunches in pain and pleasure.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” you chant like a mantra as spurts of liquid squirt out of your cunt.

The dirty scene before him fills Taehyung with mirth. A sense of accomplishment and reassurance. He feels valuable to you in this very moment of time, having brought you enjoyment with his participation. It charges him with excitement, sending his senses to nothing but joy as his desperation sends him into his own climax.

He pulls out the moment he feels the first spray of his cum. Taehyung runs his dick up between the two of you, pushing it between your bodies as his cum jets out of him. His hands grip you tightly, back hunching briefly as he empties his load against your stomach and whatever else it touches.

The two of you stand there, labored breaths and dripping wet. The shower’s cascading water runs heavy against yours and Taehyung’s bodies.

“Shit,” Taehyung says. His chest heaving slightly as he slowly lowers your leg down and assists you with your balance. Aimlessly, his fingers trail over the off-white liquid on your stomach, rubbing it around your skin before the water washes it away.

“Are you good?” His softer tone comes out as he begins to pull you into a hug.

“Mhm,” – you smile up at him – “Very good.”

“Good.”

Taehyung’s hands grip the shampoo bottle that you use, a strong citrusy smell releasing into the air the moment the cap is popped off. You twist your head in confusion, watching the way he pours the shiny liquid into his palm.

“Now I'm going to wash you up,” he comments as his hands rub the product together.

You huff out a puff of air, an uncontrollable grin forms on your lips as you look at Taehyung like a love-sick teenager.

“I really do love you, you know?”

A gentle smile grows on his face, his eyes looking at you with admiration.

“I know. I love you too.”

Absolutely marvelous moodboard made by the one and only @taechnological! Thank you so much, Sae! I adore this to NO ENDS!

#red vs blue #dailydaegu #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #kth1 #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts smut #gamer taehyung #btsdreamcourt

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

10 years | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x oc (ft. brother!jimin)

genre: brother's best friend, angst, forgiveness?, teeny tiny fluff (it's barely there lol)

words: 7, 294

summary: 10 years change people but you still remember

"Why are you freaking out?" Isabelle is attempting to get you to stay in one position, but it's fruitless when all you do is pace back and forth in the space of the changing rooms when you hear people barking orders from the outside.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" You exasperate.

Isabelle glares at you, nimble hands reaching to tighten the lace corset around your waist in one swift motion; turning your body to face her as she does her job of primping you up.

"You're being dramatic." She rolls her eyes.

You huff.

You loved Isabelle, probably because she's been working for your family for years and that she was the mother figure in your life that you never could have gotten from your own biological one—but also because she was the only person that knew her way around that thorny mind of yours.

"What would you do if you haven't seen someone in over ten years and the last memory you have with them is bitter?" You say in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle's eyes soften, hands reaching out to rest on your shoulders as your head droops, anxiety blooming in your chest even if you weren't the one getting married today.

"What can you do but say hello?" She says, "Time doesn't stop for anyone, _____."

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you hear the rustles of the curtains, causing both of your heads to turn towards the source of the noise.

"_____, your brother is asking for you." Lea, your brother's wedding planner, peeks her head through the curtains to call you.

Your heart betrays your seemingly calm stature as you begin to perspire, terrified of being face to face with the person that you should've been most excited to see.

"Time's up, ______. You can't run forever." Isabelle says, eyes solemn.

"You'd think being an adult would mean you grow out of old habits ..." Jimin mutters, glaring at you when you finally make your appearance at the rehearsal dinner.

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, unable to forget the fact that he was no longer the older brother that you hero-worshipped because he excelled in everything that he did, nor was he the kid that stole your figurines to spite you. He was a man, older and more mature—with a wedding to celebrate the beginning of a new life with his partner.

He looks nervous, you can tell because you know Jimin better than most—a position you begrudgingly gave up in replacement of his wife, Risa—so you offer him a squeeze of his shoulder, and a look to tell him that you were here, and he was okay.

Jimin accepts it with a small smile of gratitude, moving aside so you could take your seat on the VIP table where most of his important guests sat, meaning your parents, Risa's parents, the best man and the maid of honour.

From the moment you stepped foot into the hall, you spot the person that should have been unfamiliar to you, but all you can remember is what was the best years of your life that was taken away from you. It should've been hard to spot him through the pastels and people, but you've always had eyes for him—the foolish lens of a girl that didn't want to grow up.

Even as you seat at the table, mingling with your future sister-in-law, and the maid of honour, along with Risa's parents, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge him just yet, and he has yet to make it known that he acknowledges you too.

Perhaps it was the pettiness from both ends. The fact that neither of you wanted to step down just yet, the last known interaction between the both of you only causing your heart to constrict further. You wonder if he remembers you the way you have with him.

"______," Risa calls your name, leaning in to whisper into your ear as you snap your focus on her.

"Hey, sorry." You mumble, scratching your neck, "Was a little distracted."

Risa offers you an understanding smile and you're grateful to the heaven's above that Jimin managed to make a woman like her fall in love with him. It was a far better alternative and change from the demons he used to go for as a high schooler, and you fondly (but not really) remember fighting off crazy exes when your brother decided that they weren't his long-term.

"Is this about ..." You can tell Risa hesitates to say his name, knowing the matter was still a fresh wound for you even if you had a decade to heal.

You sigh, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze, mustering a strong front so she wouldn't worry anymore.

"Don't worry about me. It's your special day." You remind her with a soft smile.

She scoffs.

"Not yet. This is to ensure nothing goes to shit and no one gets left at the altar on a real day." She mutters.

You giggle, and even Jimin picks up on his soon-to-be wife's comment and pinches her hip, giving her a glare that lacked any real malice. You observe the way Jimin leans into his fiancee's touch when she reaches for his hand, a gesture so simple but carried the weight of lovers that wholly trusted each other.

Sometimes you envied Jimin. Throughout your adolescent years, you were always pinned against him for reasons that you still cannot justify.

The two of you were fundamentally different in nature. Jimin was a quiet kid, but his actions were the ones that spoke for him instead. For what he couldn't say in words, he made up for through the results of his actions. As a younger sibling, watching Jimin excel in every activity that he sets his mind to make you worship him, wanting to be as talented and ambitious as he was.

If he did kendo, you'd sign up so you could carry on the legacy of his talent. When he ran for class president, so did you in your own grades. Everything was always stemmed around Jimin and what he did.

Even if he was quiet, he naturally took the lead in doing things. Where you were the polar opposite. A louder than life personality should have made you the proactive one, but deep down you were meek, timid and terrified of doing things out of your comfort zone.

It did hit a sore spot for you and Jimin's relationship when he grew up enough to no longer facilitate his baby sister's incessant whines and tugs to join him in his activities. You remember the day clearly when he told you that you were nothing but an extension of him.

When you look back, you can think of it as a fond memory of two teenagers that were horrible at speaking about their feelings, but you remember the hurt you felt; only wanting to be a part of Jimin's life when he wanted to be on his own.

It took a few years to repair the relationship that was fragile, to begin with, and it wasn't just the effort of you or Jimin, but—

"Hyung, do you need to run the video through IT to check if it's playable?"

You're brought back to the present when Jimin's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you instantly know who he's referring to.

The only person that he could comfortably refer to as 'hyung' was the only person that you have yet to greet, or acknowledge.

"I see what you're doing, Park. You're not seeing this video until the 13th."

The rest of the people at the table laugh at the banter between best friend's, but you remain uncharacteristically silent. No one picks up on it—or if they did, they know well enough not to point it out for the sake of maintaining normalcy at the table.

You listen attentively to the briefing run down by Lea, and you smile fondly at the fire that the young wedding planner carried in herself. She was meticulous, and you only had Risa to thank for managing to get the most dedicated wedding planner that you were sure was out there.

Eventually, you had to practice the walk-in from the runway, up until the altar behind where the bride and groom were to be situated. That meant you have shuffled around under Lea's commands, and that you caught more of his appearance than you would have liked.

Of course, he grew up beautifully. He had always been exceptionally good-looking even from when you were in high school up to your early college years. The birth lottery definitely favoured some people, and he was on the top of the list.

But he no longer had the same youthful charm that he did when you last saw him at 23. He looked rougher around the edges, lines on his face that come with time and experience, the stroke of a paintbrush that you weren't there to witness. Age did him well—and you couldn't deny the fact that as he grew, he also grew more attractive. The assuredness that comes with age, and the physique that you can only appreciate from afar.

The suit he's wearing is ever so flattering on his broad shoulders. He followed the theme well, a black blazer, with a deep-maroon sash draped over his shoulders. You applaud the designer that had done the fitting for him because it looked perfect, quite literally like it was made for him.

You feel mediocre immediately. The dress you were wearing was stunning—in the most objective sense—and you had a matching coloured sash that was draped around your hips instead, the corset accentuating your figure. But you were still far from comparison from him. You always have been.

"_____, could you please stand next to Jin?" Lea's voice calls out an order from the front of the altar, waving her notebook at you to step aside.

Your eyes widen as you feel the blood in your face drain, hearing your new position for the photo session.

You don't want to throw anyone off, or make Jimin's special day about you—so you suck it up, take a deep breath and shuffle into position next to Jin.

His presence is overwhelming. It's like he's there but he isn't. He doesn't feel like he's there, probably because of how long the two of you haven't spoken to each other, basically strangers. You don't acknowledge him even when your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and you definitely don't acknowledge him when Lea smiles at the two of you and says perfect.

You see Risa's concerned stare on the two of you, but you give her a tight smile and mouth to her to focus on what Lea's saying instead. She narrows her eyes at you but finally relents when you nod your head to tell her that it was fine.

You were older. You weren't going to let some ... you didn't even know what to call it. But you weren't going to let the past make you feel uncomfortable when the future hasn't been told just yet.

"Jin—could you loosen up a little? It looks like you're constipated and your face isn't going to make up for that on camera," Lea deadpans, shooting a blunt comment straight at Jin.

He flushes beside you, but you don't look at him to know that because you hypothesised that he still has the same habit of his ear's turning red if all attention is on him.

"You and I know my face would've been the highlight of the picture if it weren't for the lovebirds." He quips back.

You can't find it in yourself to laugh yet when others do, but you look down at your feet to pretend like you were distracted.

Even his voice sounds more like himself. He had always been Jin, but it's like he grew out of the mould he forced himself into when you last saw him; a more relaxed yet determined version of the past that no longer exists.

"Jin!" Lea calls out.

"That seems to be your favourite word today ..." Jin mutters, which causes Jimin to snort at his best friend's antics.

Risa slaps your brother on his shoulder and narrows her eyes at him, and it's comical how fast she managed to get him to neutralise his expression.

"For a very good reason," Lea retorts, "Could you hold _____ by the waist? The space between the two of you looks too awkward."

If only she knew.

This was possibly the situation that you wanted to avoid the most, not even acknowledging him yourself, or his name to say hello—but he had to hold you close like you were something to him.

"Shouldn't he be holding the maid of honour—?" You helplessly try to reason, but the words get stuck in your throat when Lea glares at you.

For someone younger than you, and smaller than you in height too—she was terrified when she had to be.

"It's ... fine," Jin says after a beat of silence.

Then, his hand snakes around your waist so snug as he pulls you slightly closer to him that you almost lose your footing.

You gulp, unable to ignore the heat of his grasp or the way that it feels so natural as he rests his palm loosely on your hips, fingers drumming against the bone absentmindedly as Lea directs the photographer with angles that she best believe captures the moment.

When the photographer begins the countdown, you force a smile as genuine as you can, while Jin squeezes your hips as the shutter goes off.

"You two looked comfy." Jimin slides into the seat next to you after the rehearsal, rubbing on his eye with a cotton pad to remove the makeup that was applied on him.

You scowl, swatting his hand away to berate him for causing wrinkles so early on as he huffs at your adamancy.

"Don't ignore me," He pokes your side as you sigh.

"Then don't overthink it, okay? It was for the picture." You grumble, eyes focused on the bits and bobs of makeup tools at the vanity inside the changing rooms.

You can feel Jimin's stare on you, as well as how hard he thinks. Call it a sibling intuition, but you knew exactly when he was overanalysing situations, and you felt that at this exact moment.

"You know you have to speak to him eventually, right?" Jimin says after a while.

You freeze, fingers pausing as you tap against the table. Your eyes meet Jimin's through the mirror and you know he's serious, his expression says it all. But he wasn't there when it happened, and he wasn't you to feel how it felt.

"I went for ten years without talking to him. Another ten won't be hard." You clip.

Jimin sighs, turning his body to face you as you keep your shoulders towards him. It feels very much like when you were younger when Jimin sat you down to lecture you about your behaviour, or reprimanding you for doing certain things to keep you safe.

But it's vastly different. You're twenty-eight now, and you no longer took Jimin's words as the word of God, and he knew that.

"I don't know what exactly what went down between the two of you but according to Jin—"

"And you don't need to. It's been ages, Jimin. I've moved on." You snap.

Jimin purses his lips, seeing the way you're beginning to draw up all your walls against him again. It makes his heart clench because there was a time where you would have told him everything, where you would have confided him when you were having troubles. But he knew he ruined that relationship himself, and even if it's been over a decade since that fight the two of you had, the scar of the experience would always be there to haunt you both.

He knew you didn't hold it against him anymore, but he also recognised the way you'd subtly pull away sometimes, the reason why you never visited as often as you said you would in your infrequent phone calls.

"I'm just ..." He mumbles, looking at you earnestly but you don't return the stare, "I'm worried, ______."

You scoff.

"You don't need to. I won't cause a scene at your wedding, okay? I—I'm not like that ..." You start off strong, but finish in a soft whisper.

Jimin's eyes soften when he reaches a hand to rest against your shoulder.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

"Whatever it is that you meant just ... forget it, okay? I'm a grown-up now. I'm not your baby sister anymore." You tell him.

He flinches at the bluntness of your words but knows that you don't mean any harm to them. It was the truth that he had a hard time accepting, especially when he could've been there for you more during the years of university and the beginning of your work-life.

"I ..." Jimin trails off.

You sigh, turning around to finally face him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," You wince, "It's just that ... you don't need to worry about my battles anymore, Jimin. I've learnt how to deal with them on my own and you have your own set of things to worry about. I'll always be your sister, and nothing will change that—but I'm just not the same, impressionable girl I was a decade ago."

Jimin bites his lip as he mulls over your words, a fact hard for him to accept but nevertheless, he must. He always had the tendency to be overprotective and possessive, whether it be of his relationships, activities or belongings—it was an ugly trait that got the best of him from time to time.

He knew deep down, that he played a part in why you and Jin are so sour with each other, and he can't easily get rid of that guilt.

"I know, I know," He exhales, "If that's the case then ..."

You raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

"Then?"

"Don't let me be the reason why you can't fight your battles," He tells you softly.

Your expression remains stoic, but you internally agree with what he says. You'd never blame Jimin, and you knew it was irrational to do so—but the ugly feeling of needing someone to blame that wasn't yourself or Jin was dominant in your conscious.

"I promise." You smile at him extending your pinky finger out, and he grins at the old ritual the two of you would do as kids.

"Good." He ruffles your hair, and you glare at him when he messes up your up-do that Isabelle spent a long time on.

"Dude!" You whine, but he snickers at your reaction.

"Ah, can't believe that I'm getting married in a week." He adds as he stares at the ceiling.

You smile to yourself and nod your head in agreement.

"Remember when you told me you were going to marry Hana?" You snort.

He grimaces, the memories of his college self resurfacing at the reminder of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"Thank God you snapped me out of it," He whistles lowly, "She was fucking insane."

You chuckle at that because Jimin sure had a type, and it was the insane girls with daddy issues. Even Risa was a little crazy but she had a good heart to make up for it.

"It seems to be a trend with you." You shrug your shoulders.

He narrows his eyes at you and flicks you on the forehead before he glances down at his watch to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I have a meeting at the office," He groans.

Your lips tilt upwards at his distraught as you pat him on the shoulder, gesturing him to leave.

"Don't worry. I'll find my way home."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jimin—I'm sure. Now leave before they find a new CEO." You quip teasingly.

He thanks you, and presses a kiss onto your forehead before he scampers off, grabbing at his coat before he's out the door.

Once he's out of the room, you sigh to yourself; suddenly oddly nostalgic at your childhood, up to teenage memories as you and Jimin were speaking about it.

You purse your lips, unable to get Jin out of your head even when you look back to all the fun times you had as a teenager because he's always been there ... until he wasn't.

You wince, remembering the day it happened so clearly.

The smell of burnt something pricks the air and you only have yourself to blame.

You curse when you see clouds of black smoke escaping the small vents of your oven, the shady proof of how horrible you were at baking even if it was for a cause that resonated deeply in your heart.

You were thankful that your mom wasn’t home to witness your blunder because she surely would have yapped your ear off for trusting your clumsy self in the kitchen, let alone baking a recipe that was far out of your skill range.

“Why does it smell like—_____, really?” Jimin’s voice enters your thoughts as he ascends down the stairs of your home to spot you hastily fanning the smoke away with your mittens.

“Can you shut up and help me?” You hiss.

He laughs, loud and clear as he clutches his stomach to control his body.

“Dude—why?” He wheezes.

You chuck one of the mittens at him when he finally enters the kitchen, body moving at its own accord to get the trash bin along with the mitten that you threw at him while he pushes your body aside.

“Jin’s leaving tomorrow so I thought I would make some of his favourite shortbreads …” You mutter.

Jimin gracefully plucks out the burnt batch of shortbread and chucks it into the waste bin as you pout at your efforts being thrown away.

“And you didn’t bother asking for help when you know he gets his shortbread’s from a bakery?” He deadpans.

You roll your eyes and wipe your hands on your apron as you sigh.

“Look—I wasn’t thinking and now I don’t have anything to give him before he leaves!” You pout.

Jimin eyes you suspiciously and raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter to observe your sullen expression.

“So? It’s not like he’d care.”

You glare at him.

“Well—I care.” You retort.

Jimin is silent for a moment before his eyes widen, his body inching closer to yours as if he found out something that he needed to tell you.

“Do you … do you like Jin?” Jimin gasps.

Your eyes widen, cheeks reddening simultaneously as you quickly shake your head to deny the fact—even though your heart and face betray you.

“W-What?” You squeak, “Of course not! It’s just a nice gesture to send him off.”

Jimin scoffs and narrows his eyes at you accusingly.

“Then why did you go out of your way to bake him something he likes when you know you’re hopeless in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, hoping your nonchalance plays off well enough to distract Jimin from the way your handshakes at the prospect of being caught.

“He’s my friend, Jimin. I do nice things for my friends sometimes.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t believe you, and you wish that for one moment he wouldn’t use his brain to overthink your words or the sibling telepathy he claims to have to unravel your heart’s true intentions.

“He’s my best friend. Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing all of …” He gestures to the mess of the kitchen you left it in, “… this?”

“Well you don’t own him and you definitely don’t pick who Jin’s friends with. So fuck off will you?” You snap.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you.

“He’s five years older than you.” He reminds you slowly.

You sigh, busying yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter.

“And? You’re two years older than me but you don’t see me condemning our sibling-ship.” You retort.

“That’s not what I meant,” He groans, “He doesn’t need a kid having a crush on him, okay? He’s off to university.”

The way Jimin uses the word ‘kid’ doesn’t sit well with you, as if to tell you that you were inferior to him and Jin because you were younger than him. But you weren’t far off, and heck, you’d argue that you were far more mature than your brother or any of his friends.

“I’m graduating high school this year.” You sneer.

“And Jin is off to university!” He exasperates.

“I don’t know what your problem is because I—don’t—have—a—crush—on—him!” You emphasise with a shove of your finger to his chest with every word.

“You better not because that’ll be weird. I don’t need my sister crushing on my best friend.” He scrunches his nose when he says that.

The drop of your heart is inevitable, but you’ve long decided that you don’t live your life to please Jimin anymore, and what you wanted what was what mattered.

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, chucking the last bit of your dishes into the sink before you glance over at the clock.

“Tell mom I’ll be out!” You say, throwing off your apron as you quickly check your appearance when you grab for your car keys.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.

You glare at him, slipping on your shoes as quickly as you possibly can before you call out to him, halfway out the door:

“Jin’s!”

“Oh, hey _____.” Jin is surprised when you turn up on his doorstep.

“Hey yourself,” You smile, stepping in after you’ve slipped your shoes off.

“What … what are you doing here?” He asks when the two of you make your way up to his room, after offering a greeting to his parents and brother in the kitchen.

You flop on to the beanbag at the corner of his room and give him a knowing stare.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You say.

He nods his head, understanding as he glances around his barren room, most of his belongings packed away in his luggage.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” He teases.

You scoff.

“I suppose.” You shrug, “There was supposed to be shortbread too but …”

He laughs, a sound that you’ve come to adore, even as a young girl you always thought Jin was the funniest person ever. When Jimin would argue that he was funnier, you’d always jump to defend Jin’s ability to make you laugh instead.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” He says to you, plopping down to sit across from you.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” You sigh, resting your head against the plushness of the beanbag.

Jin snorts.

“Why does it sound like I’m never coming back?” He jokes.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to be in a completely different time-zone. Two, flight tickets get super expensive during the holiday season’s so I doubt you’d be back. And three—you’d probably make cool university friends keep you company so that you wouldn’t wanna’ come back anyways.”

Jin looks at you, lips twitching upwards as you complain.

“You … you thought that through, huh?”

You roll your eyes, chucking a figurine in his direction.

“Just, promise to call?” You whisper.

He smiles softly at you and nods.

“Course’. I’ll ring Jimin up and we can all talk.”

You blink at his choice of words, afraid he’s misunderstood your point.

“I mean … you can call me …” You mutter.

Jin pauses for a moment, before catching himself and chuckling softly under his breath.

“Wouldn’t that be kind of weird …?”

His choice of words only reminds you of Jimin’s tone when he warned you against your apparent (but very present) crush on Jin.

“Why would it be weird?” You tilt your head to the side.

He snorts at your question and you frown because you don’t understand what aspect of it was funny at all.

“Come on, you’re Jimin’s baby sister. If I called you it would seem predatorial, won’t it? I’m literally five years older than you.”

You don’t think he means to sound condescending, but the tone of his words definitely come across that way. You bite your tongue to not say anything rash just yet, as you take a deep breath before you respond.

“We’re friends … and I turn eighteen in June.” You remind him about your birthday coming in two months.

He shrugs.

“Yes but it’s still weird. It would just seem like we’re together, you know?”

His words make you freeze, eyes widening at his implication.

“Would that be such a bad thing …?” You whisper, and the words leave your mouth before you can think twice.

Jin hears you loud and clear, and his eyes widen. You see his body tense and the way he shifts away from you ever-so-slightly that it makes your heart drop.

“_____ … I don’t …” He tries to navigate the topic, but your eyes are bored straight on his face and it flusters him.

“You’re a kid, _____. I don’t date kids.” He snaps, deciding to opt for a defensive approach.

The demeaning term sets you off as you feel anger bubble through your system in bursts of hotness.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” You snap, and his eyes widen at your tone.

“Woah, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You lash out, “I’m not some dumb or naive child that doesn’t know what’s right or wrong, okay? I’m turning eighteen this year—and I—I thought you were better than this. How could you be so shallow?”

Jin scoffs.

“Shallow? _____,” He deadpans, “You’re just turning eighteen and I’m twenty-three. That’s a whole five-year difference. I don’t think you’re dumb but the thought of dating you right after you turn eighteen is just …” He shudders.

You still.

You didn’t know Jin could hurt you so much with just words, but he did just that. He didn’t need to say much, but you felt every sting that came with his intentions.

“Who said anything about dating?” You ask hoarsely, “I just said to call me.”

Jin softens a little, turning to face you as he sighs.

“_____ … I know you have a crush on me and—”

You’re absolutely mortified when he exposes you out in the open like that, the truth left out for both of you to mull over; but even worse for you as you were the one that was on the plank.

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” You snap, embarrassment crawling up your neck as you avoid his gaze, attempting to deflect.

“—I don’t need you waiting for me when I’m off to university. I’ll be fucking around a lot and you don’t deserve that.”

You gape at him, stunned at his audacity.

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” You laugh, but there’s no humour in it.

“What? No—”

“Oh, you so do, Kim Seokjin,” You snarl, “Do you think I would wait for you? To live out some stupid fairytale? Yes—I have a crush on you but that’s all there is to it—a fucking crush!” You yell.

His eyes widen, attempting to reach out for you to calm you down, but you shift away.

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage but just for a fucking phone call. I’m not even asking you to like me back!” You throw your hands into the air.

“But you’re implying it! Why else would I call some girl that I’m only friends with cause' of her brother if I didn’t like her?”

That’s all it takes for silence to overtake the both of you, your mouth stunned shut as your eyes widen at his words.

“What?” You choke.

It’s like Jin is blinded by the need to defend himself, a carnal desire to protect his own heart to make him feel less like a weirdo about the way his best friend’s little sister makes him feel. An odd feeling he never wanted to acknowledge until he acknowledged you.

“I mean exactly what I said, ____,” He spits so vehemently that he doesn’t recognise himself, “All you do is follow us around like some helpless puppy because of what—your crush on me? Get over it because I’ll never like you.”

You freeze, and your heart does too.

“Do you think I willingly talk to you? It’s because of Jimin! You’re his baby sister. What else could I do? Tell you to fuck off?” He snaps.

Your lip trembles but you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Not this boy who thinks of you that way, as someone’s baby sister rather than who you were.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” You say, oddly calm, but your glassy eyes are what snaps Jin out of it.

“Wait … ____,” He sighs.

“I’ll fuck off myself, all right?” You grit, pushing yourself off the beanbag before you’re storming out of his room.

Jin doesn’t bother chasing after you because he’s mulling over his words, absolutely disgusted with what he said. His parents and brother miss you when you’re out the door crying.

Jimin doesn’t even ask how you were.

“Oh—”

It’s like he’s always there at your most vulnerable moments.

Jin is hovering by the entrance of the changing room awkwardly, his limbs too long for the tight space.

He startles you out of your reminiscent state as you clutch the robe to your chest, acutely aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your bra and underwear underneath it.

You flush, avoiding his eyes, afraid that if you looked at them; all you would remember is what he said to you.

“It’s fine,” You parrot the words he said to you earlier, and quickly pack your belongings, and casual clothes into a bag to make your way out back into your hotel room.

As you brush past him, he stops you with his voice.

“______.”

You freeze, hands still tightly gripping your robe as you feel his eyes rake over your body. You feel both exposed and safe, because once upon a time—Jin was the person that could comfort you the most.

“Yes?” You say in a clipped tone.

You hear him sigh, and you’re about to leave until he interrupts you again.

“How are you?”

You nearly scoff at the mediocre question he poses when the situation between the two of you is anything but. The question seems so out of place when the room is so tense, the ghost of his words here to haunt you both.

“Good.” Is all you respond with before you try to leave.

He grabs you by the elbow, gently, but enough for you to fall against his chest, his arms reaching around to grab you before you fall.

The opening to your robe falls a bit, and his eyes dart away out of respect as you quickly shove it closed with reddened ears.

“What do you want?” You snap.

He winces at your hostility but doesn’t blame you for it.

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” He shrugs.

Now, you scoff. It’s because Jin is still so irrevocably him, that in any other circumstance you’d smile in fondness at his ability to make any situation simple as if there wasn’t history between the two of you.

“Do you now?” You say blandly, “What do you want to know? I’m still Jimin’s baby sister if you were wondering.” You say bitterly.

Jin freezes and sighs when you bring it up; alluding to what he said to you that night years ago.

“Actually … I wanted to apologise,” He confesses.

At that, you still.

Apologise?

Did you need an apology? Wasn’t that what usually fixed conflict?

But no, an apology wasn’t going to fix the years of insecurity that you were left with when he was gone, always nitpicking at your flaws and your identity; wondering if it were really only an extension of your older brother.

Even though you were older, and somewhat more rational—there was still a part of you that wanted to blame Jin for your insecurities, even though you knew that was a war between you and yourself.

“For what? Calling me an extension of my brother or that our friendship was to please Jimin?” You snarl.

He winces and releases the hold he has on your elbow as he rubs his hand across his face.

“I was young and—”

You scoff.

“Young? I thought you were too old back then? Where was this energy ten years ago?”

His eyes narrow at you, and he noticed that you definitely grew a backbone—and a mouth. It was inappropriate still, to think of you any other way right now when he was attempting to apologise to you.

But your beauty was dangerous, and you’ve always been a pretty thing; even when you were growing up. The truth he uttered a decade ago was somewhat the truth still, he felt way too … old to be with you, even if his heart begged for him to keep you close.

“I don’t know why I said the things I did, _____.” He sighs.

You turn around, face contorted with every emotion you’ve been withholding since that fateful night.

“Let me tell you then,” You shove a finger into his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” You spit, hoping to hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.

His eyes widen when you lean in closer.

“You liked me too and you had no fucking clue what to do about it, so you pushed me away the one night I asked for a small favour. You wanted to protect yourself because you’re too in your head thinking that your feelings matter more than anyone else’s, am I right Jin?”

“_______ …”

“Shut up,” You snap.

He does, and he sees the fire in your eyes burn brighter.

“You thought you were the only one that was struggling with their emotions but guesses what—you weren’t,” You whisper, “I was too. And I pushed it aside every moment I spent with you because I knew that it wasn’t my position to decide for you if you liked me or not.”

His hand reaches out to cup your face, something instinctual inside of him told him to do so—wanting to hold you close. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. Your features soften, but you haven’t done your piece just yet.

“But you … you decided for me.” You say softly, “You showed me how much of a piece of shit you were that night.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and the words hurt—but nothing compared to how he felt when you blocked him everywhere, even to go as far to tell Jimin to never mention your name to him.

It sucked for the first two years, but eventually as you went to college and university, you unblocked him. Was it out of spite to let him see how well you were doing? Or the boyfriend that you had?

Maybe.

“_____, I’m sorry.”

Here he was, at thirty-four years old, apologising to you much like a man would—and you can’t help but admire his face when you lean in, heart willing yourself to act rather than your rationale.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” You say.

It seems that you shock him more and more with each second that passes. You weren’t the same girl you were a decade ago, but yet traces of you still lingered in your features, your smile, your voice and your words. It was just you, but older.

“It was for me.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in understanding, cupping your jaw.

“You have no idea how much I regret that night, ______.” He whispers.

You purse your lips.

“What will regret bring you, Jin? A do-over?”

This time he goes silent to observe your face. It’s no longer the same cold stare you’ve been giving him the entire day or the fact that you’ve been ignoring his presence until he found you tucked away in the changing room—a tip-off from Jimin.

“No but … you’re right,” He tells you, “I wanted to protect myself and it was selfish. I can’t change what I said or did but I’m here now and—my heart is still the same.”

“Ten years change people, Jin. I’ve changed and so did you. Maybe you liked the girl I was when I was eighteen but I’m nowhere near in the same mind-space I was back then.” You tell him.

Even though your own heart betrays you by beating rapidly against your chests the closer the holds you, you knew that acting out of your rationale would only end up with you being hurt yet again. You forgave Jin … sure you did. But ten years was far too long to accept the fact he may feel the same.

“I know but I couldn’t forget you, not when I was in university and not when I started working.” He confesses, eyes burning into your own.

You purse your lips and stand your ground. A hand reaches to clasp his, slowly pushing it away from your face as you sigh. You notice the crestfallen expression on his face, but you don’t comment on it.

“I forgave you but that doesn’t mean I forgot what you said to me that night …” You tell him, “I know I was young and that you aren’t responsible for my insecurities but you told me every single thing that I was terrified of.”

His eyes soften but ensuring he kept his distance when you slightly pull away.

“_____—” He sighs.

“No, Jin,” You tell him firmly, “You were the person that mended Jimin and I’s relationship so you knew how much it ruined me to believe that I was nothing but a product of his aspirations. That I had nothing for myself but who my brother was. I struggled so much to find my footing as a teenager and I didn’t even know what I liked and didn’t like it because the lines were so blurred between my own interests and Jimin’s.”

Suddenly, he sees a little glimpse of the girl when you were eighteen peakings through your exterior. You still sounded a little unsure of yourself, words shaking ever so slightly.

“And for the person to tell me that I was more than just Park Jimin’s sister to … to …” You swallow, the words stuck in your throat because as much as forgiving Jin was for him as it was to you, the words still haunt your mind.

“To say that I was just an extension of my brother?” You whisper, “I didn’t know who I was then but I lost who I tried to be when you said that.”

Jin bites his lip, feeling awful. But he knew that he had no right to feel like he was the one that was hurt when his words plagued your mind for years.

“Whatever your feelings are at this moment …” You trail off, clutching your belongings to your chest, ready to leave without another glance, “They’re just your guilt telling you to hold on to something you didn’t get closure with.”

You look over at him once more, a solemn expression on your face.

“This is your closure, Jin.”

You leave without sparing him another glance, and the man stands in the empty changing room feeling a lot different. He thought he’d amended things, but when you leave, it feels as bad as it had been ten years ago.

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emiken-070907 · 3 years

Text

Since I realized it's going to take me some time to get to the point of my fic to actually introduce my OC's, I'm just going to do that here now!

I'm also going to name some canon characters (e.g. Che'nya) and will explain their positions in the fic and how I think their personalities are.

Wondorsmore is the dorm founded on the curiosity of the Young Explorer. They are housed in a deformed, very colourful house with a gigantic garden and maze. Gem colour is blue.

Alicynthia Fantasmore (Alice): A light headed 2nd year student and the dorm leader of the dorm. She's a very kindhearted girl who loves tea time, baked sweets and croquet. Mostly everyone calls her Ali-chan, since her actual name is rather hard to pronounce for others. Nobody knows how she got the title 'dorm leader', because she daydreams a lot and gets distracted very easily. She has terrible orientation and will even get lost on an open field. Her mother handles all trading between the Rose Kingdom and the other lands, for which she respects her very deeply and hopes that she'll be able to handle such responsibilities one day.

Che'nya/Alchemi Alchemivichi Pinka (Cheshire Cat): The vice leader and one of Ali-chan's personal 'caretakers' and advisor. She's very aware of her responsibilities but necklaces them most of the time by napping or pranking other students, and loves to speak in riddles and confuse others. She has an immense fear of dogs, since one nearly bit her hand of when she was a child.

Marriposa Fafelyna (Caterpillar): Jokingly gets called the 'Second Vice of Wondorsmore'. Also Ali-chan's caretaker #2, but she's more of an motherly figure than Che'nya, who's more of an aunt. The 3rd year is kind of strict, but means it well, and has a lot of patience for others. She's hungry 24/7 and very tall. She also pupates up when she is faalls asleep. Smokes, but is not allowed to in any closed room or building, that's why she's mostly in the garden. Che'nya's roommate.

Arley Blanca (White Rabbit): A curious 1st year with a terrible sense of time. That's why she has a lot of clocks. Her father even runs a clock shop and got tought on how to build and repair clocks and watches. Her whole site of her shared room is full with clocks. Naturally, when ever it's a full hour, it's get very loud, which doesn't bother her, since she's used to it, even though she has very sensitive ears. She is allowed to do that, because she is alone in the four-person room.

Sunizwe is the dorm founded on the leadership of the Lion King. The members live in a big wood house, which has many plants and veins growing along it's sides, in the Savanna jungle. It has no roof unless it's raining and wild animals can't get near the dorm. Gem colour is topaz yellow.

Rainona Adolpha (Little Red Riding Hood): A 3nd year girl from the Land of Pyroxene as dorm leader in the middle of the Savanna, surrounded by beastmen. She's way mor robust than she looks. Never seen without her red hood/cape.

Zywie Najyba (Rafiki): Vice leader and 'doctor' of the dorm/school. Comes from a family of doctors or medical related stuff, they also work for the Royal Family. So, of course, she knows a lot about medicine and how things are within the family. Also has exsperience as a shaman. The 3rd year is concidered the 'wises' in the dorm

Eventyhav is the dorm founded by the dedication of the Little Mermaid. The dorm members live in an old shipwreck underwater. Gem colour is aqua blue.

Rielle af Atlantica (Arielle): A 2nd year dormleader and the youngest princess of the 7 princesses of the coral sea. Always full of question and likes sticking her noise into things that aren't her business. She's super impressed by human culture. But she often misunderstands the use or meaning of things. For example, for some time she used a fork as a hairbrush. Her voice is incredible lovely and beautiful.

Fabienne Guppy (Flounder): The vice of the dorm and best friend of Rielle. She's very shy, sweet and easily flustered. She's afraid of many things, sharks being the Nr. 1. Rielle always tries (and being successful every time) to convince her to go with her on her 'adventures'. Rielle also mainly calls her 'Fabie'. She is very good with the oboe (and saxophone, to some degree) and often plays for the dorm members.

Amyrlas is the dorm founded on the intelligence of the Prince of Sands. They are housed in a tiger head shaped, gold and marble cave near an oases. The gem colour is turquis.

Jaseema Dha-Hab (Jasmine): Dormleader and the older twin of the Dha-Hab twins. She's one of Kalima's cousins, the stricter and more hot-tempered one. The 2nd year student cares deeply for her sister, but doesn't show it well. Like Kalima, both are very rich, and, surprisingly, the only children in the family. She's very aware of their advantages, and that her parents most likely payed for her and her sister's positions. So she decided to use the money she has to help others. She donates very often and always helps her dorm mates. Which makes her very busy and not being able to spend time with her sister. Back at home, she's stuck with her overprotective parents who forbid her and her sister to go outside without a guard. So she's very happy and grateful for the freedom RSA provides her.

Aliye Dha-Hab (Aladdin): The vice dorm leader and younger twin. She's very carefree, like Kalima, eventhough she knows what could happen to her. Because of that, she leaves her sister in constant worry. And she's very aware of that. The reason she doesn't stop that or doesn't stop causing trouble is that, this, in her eyes, is the only way to get her sisters attention. Even back at home she causes trouble. She often goes outside without permission. When she's outside she disguises herself with poor clothes so she'll blend in easier. She often takes things like food or similar with her to give it to the poor, or sells it so she can give the money to others. Sometimes she even steals things to give them. This is her own way of donating, besides giving money; Being there for them. She has a small hideout in an abandoned building. She even has a small monkey, named Hamai, as a pet/companion.

Ebenholz is the dorm founded on the kindness of the Fairest of Them All. The mebers live in little cottages in the woods near a smal mine. Gem colour is red.

Neige LeBlanche: Dorm leader and the beauty of the school. She's very busy due to her being a model and actress, but always manages to spend time with her dwarf friends. Is like a second mother to them, but can be a bit overbearing sometimes.

The Dwarves: 7 dwarves who are constantly at Neige's side. Often get mistaken as kids and/or siblings. Both claims are false. Come from a dwarf clan that's known for their handywork and multiple mines. All are very good at mining and sorting out gems from real and fake. Surprisingly strong, can lift 5 times the weight they have. Dominic is the 'oldest sister', being the most mature. Hop and Gran often get into friendly arguments. Shelpy mostly sleeps, but loves some drama at school and knows everything about it. Sneek has to deal with a lot of allergies and holds a strong dislike towards spring. She and Hop (aswell as Domi) are often 'mental support' for the ever so shy Timmy. Toby is the air-head and 'youngest sister'. Since a young age, she had trouble remebering things and also had trouble with correct speech.

Theoroas is the dorm founded on the strength of the Godly Hero. They are housed in an ancient Greek themed building with an arena attached to it. Gem colour is copper.

Ziana Thora (Zeus): The 3rd year dormleader of the dorm. She's very stoic and serious, always wearing an angry expression. Very respected and feared, even known as 'The Queen of Royal Sword Academy'. He obtained the title 'dorm leader' as a fist year, right in the first week by challenging the former leader and winning by a land slide. He also has a younger sister (Hercules), but doesn't want to acknowlage her as that. So their relationship is rather complicated. She's also the daughter of the head of the company 'Olympus'.

Pacifica Aquarius (Poseidon): Cousin of Ziana (and Idia) and vice dorm leader. A very bubbly and lightheaded girl. She often drives her cousin insane because she can be very annoying and intrusive. Often just called 'Percy' or 'Paz'. She's very found of the merfolk. Like Idia (and Ziana, technically), Pacifica is a noble aswell; A noble of the Coral Sea. Besides making Ziana often mad, she's also the one who keeps his temper in check.

Verrepantou is the dorm founded on the hope of the Hardworking Princesse. It's only a small dorm, but the members are housed in a simple house, which turns into an impressive palace at night. Gem colour is purple.

Aimée Trein (Cinderella): The sweet and kind dorm leader. She didn't see the need to declare a vice, since it's a small dorm. She also has not the best sence of time, especilly when it's near 12, regardless of am or pm. Overworks herself very often does chores for others out of pure kindness. Also has a big thing for shoes and has multiple wardrobes just for that. Step-daughter to Mozus Trein and has two older step-sisters. Lost her father at a young age.

#twisted wonderland #rsa #royal swords academy #rsa oc #twst oc #long post #chenya #neige leblanche #twst fandorm #a diffrent kind of story

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cherryeol04 · 4 years

Text

The Firsts

Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.

Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)

Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix

Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.

Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)

Aiden eyed Changbin hard as the other fiddled with his laptop. The two boys sat in Changbin’s room on a particularly hot summer afternoon. It was the kind of hot that the simple thought of breathing exhausted them, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing had they been at Aiden’s house. His mother always insisted on running the air conditioning during the summertime to keep everyone sane - he sadly couldn’t say the same thing for Changbin’s mom, who insisted they just open the window and let the fresh air in.

They had toyed with the idea of going somewhere to escape the heat, but anytime either of them thought about walking outside in the sweltering heat they decided against the idea. That’s when Changbin got an oh so great idea, one that Aiden was questioning the sanity of. “How do you even know what sites to go to? Did you like, google it?” He asked, eyes locked on the screen as Changbin pulled up a porn site. Images of naked men and women danced on the screen - most advertisements but the middle portion was dedicated strictly for the videos uploaded to the site. Aiden honestly wasn’t sure if he was turned on or repulsed by some of the lewd positions these men and women were in.

“Yeah.” Changbin answered, startling Aiden out of his internal debate of if he was going to throw up or not at the site of a woman spread eagle in the thumbnail of a video while Changbin scrolled through. “Haven’t you watched porn before?”

“I’m a good Christian boy.” Aiden huffed with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t partake in them sins of the flesh.” The forced exhale of laughter from Changbin had Aiden pouting.

“Right. This coming from the guy who is making it a habit of waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me about his sexual dreams with Felix. Yeah, good Christian boy my ass.” He retorted and sighed.

“Shut up! Okay listen, I’ve never thought of doing that okay?” Aiden whined, cheeks flushing with embarrassment because really, he felt like he was a weird kid. He was sure there were plenty of young men who spent their time watching porn and getting off. It was natural, or at least he assumed.

“Wait.” Changbin shifted beside Aiden on his spot on the bed, eyes staring intently at him and Aiden actually shivered under the gaze - eyes adverting away. “So how do you know you’re gay?” He asked. It was a stupid question, but Aiden would be lying if he said he hadn’t questioned himself about that before. He had researched “how do you know if you’re gay” with safe search on. Maybe that’s what has kept him from seeing porn until now.

“I mean, I like Felix and I have dreams about him. Doesn’t that make me gay?” Aiden asked confused, though he still refused to look at Changbin.

“Yeah, but have you ever touched a dick before?” Changbin grunted when Aiden smacked his arm, their eyes locking once more as Aiden frowned. “I’ve never seen porn before, but I know how to jack off, idiot.”

“Yeah, but have you touched someone else’s dick before?” The question had Aiden falling silent as he contemplated if it really mattered if he had touched another guy’s dick or not. Weren’t they all the same? Wasn’t it all the same? Was jacking off not considered a sign of knowing if he was gay?

“No?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unsure because the answer was a definitive no, he had touched no other dicks but his own. And yet he couldn’t help but feel shy and embarrassed for having that answer, a similar feeling he got when he was called to answer a question in class and was wrong. “Have you?”

“No. But I’m not the gay one.” Changbin shot back and Aiden groaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked towards the screen again and sighed. “So you’ve never watched porn and never touched another dick? Wow, you’re just an unconfirmed gay virgin.” Changbin teaser, a light laugh leaving him, but when Aiden didn’t laugh with him and avoided eye contact, he stopped and his smile fell.

“Aiden? Hey, you know it’s okay right? I’m just teasing.”

“I know!” Aiden said quickly, but his insides were swimming with such a mixture of emotions that he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt most, embarrassment, self-pity, arousal even? It was very confusing for him. He jerked when he felt a hand touching his shoulder and he shyly lifted his gaze to meet Changbin’s.

“Do you wanna, touch mine?”

The question had Aiden sputtering in shock, eyes wide and cheeks now a darker shade of red than it had been before. “Do what? No! That would be so weird!” He exclaimed. “We’re like best friends.”

“Yeah, and best friends help each other out.” Changbin shrugged. “You know, gotta make sure you’re actually gay before your embarrass yourself in front of Felix.” Aiden whined at that, but Changbin had a point. It couldn’t hurt, right? After all, Changbin was offering.

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah, let me just find something that’ll get you off and -“

“What about you? I thought you weren’t gay?” Aiden questioned.

“Hmmm.” Changbin hummed in thought. “I’m an equal opportunistic person. It’s fine.” He waved his hand at Aiden, his other hand gliding across the trackpad of the laptop to find the ‘gay’ section of the website. He scrolled for a bit after finding it and ended up choosing a video that looked pretty amateurish but the two guys were pretty young and twinkish. Given Aiden’s current crush, he figured these guys would be his type.

Aiden wasn’t entirely too sure about this half baked plan, yet there was something exciting about it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea of actually touching another dick was appealing if the surge of arousal that ran down his spine was anything to go by. Sitting back against the headboard, his eyes stared at the video that was slowly buffering while Changbin fought to close the six pop-ups about meeting hot singles in their area.

Grumbling to himself, Changbin finally got the pop-ups closed and the video began playing - volume set low though he swore it was extremely loud. Perhaps it was because they were trying to watch porn in the middle of the day, and Changbin’s mother was out in the backyard tending to her garden. It was risky but thrilling and that alone had him half hard. But he was still hesitant, not sure if he should just whip his dick out now and start touching it. While he wasn’t a stranger to touching himself, it was different when someone else was in the room with him - almost embarrassing.

Changbin settled next to him, his hand rested on his abdomen and looking so very comfortable and not at all fazed by this situation. Aiden almost envied how calm and collected he seemed to be and decided that maybe he would just imitate the other; settling himself in the same position as Changbin, eyes moving to focus back on the laptop where the lewd, slurping sounds were spilling from.

Five minutes or maybe it was 3 hours - Aiden couldn’t be sure - passed, and the video only seemed like it was halfway done. The two men had only recently just started fucking and by now Aiden knew of two different positions you could have sex in. He was learning a lot, but at some point, he had stopped analyzing and started feeling. Feeling how hard he was, how heady the moans from the strangers on the screen sent weird yet pleasant sparks of white-hot something through him. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced before but he liked it, he liked it a lot. His hand slowly slipped from its resting place on his stomach and casually slid down to the front of his sweats - tented from his straining erection, a small wet spot forming.

His pinkie was the first to graze it, touch light and airy. He inhaled harshly because fuck if that didn’t feel good. His cock twitched, throbbed and Aiden wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around it and start stroking. But he stopped himself, unsure if he should because Changbin was still there. And even though he offered to let Aiden touch his dick, he hadn’t uttered a single word since the start of the video. Biting his lower lip, Aiden decided to take a quick peek at Changbin, eyes shifting to the other male and widening at the sight.

“Hey! You said I could touch it.” He all but whined out, Changbin’s hand stilling over his hard member, head-turning to face him. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, lips parted as soft pants left them.

“Sorry?” He muttered out breathlessly, a smirk playing across his lips. “You didn’t seem to be interested in doing much. You haven’t even touched yourself.” Changbin noticed and Aiden didn’t know what was hotter, how deep Changbin’s voice sounded when he was horny or the fact the other had actually been watching and waiting for him to start touching himself. Maybe both were equally hot? His cock seemed to think so as it gave another twitch at the thought, a reminder that it was still hard and needed attention.

“Oh.” It was a pathetic response and Aiden lowered his head in slight shame. The laughter that Changbin let out only added to the shame and embarrassment that he felt and briefly he thought that maybe this was a mistake. He wasn’t given the chance to even suggest that maybe they should stop when he felt fingers close around his wrist with gentle pressure. The movement was hesitant, Changbin giving him the chance to pull his hand away. Aiden let his hand be guided, though, watching with a curious gaze and excitement building up inside him as his hand was placed over the straining erection of his best friend. It was instinct that his fingers curled and closed around it and Aiden marveled at the feeling.

It was different. He couldn’t explain why or how, but feeling Changbin hot and heavy in his hand was so different than feeling himself in his hand. He really it. Aiden moved his hand, angle awkward as he did his best to stroke the other - going slow at first as he watched Changbin’s expression for confirmation of how he was feeling. His lips were parted, soft moans leaving him as his hand fell from Aiden’s wrist, letting the other do what he wanted.

“I-Is this okay?” Soft, meek, Aiden would have been embarrassed for just how damn shy and unsure he sounded at that moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was more worried about making Changbin feel good.

“Harder.” Aiden’s hands faltered for a moment, brows furrowing at the words. He found Changbin’s hand resting over his, fingers pressing into Aiden’s to tighten his grip and - oh. “Fuck.”

Who would have figured such a simple word could cause such a burning desire to bubble up in Aiden’s chest, a moan tumbling from his lips. Shit, how embarrassing. Was he supposed to be getting off on the sounds of Changbin? Wasn’t that weird? There were so many questions racing through his mind, but he had to push them to the back and focus. Focus on the hot cock twitching in his hand, precum beading up at the slit. He thought about tasting it but decided against it. That would surely be too weird for friends to do.

His hand worked over Changbin at a steady and even pace. On each upstroke, he would give a little squeeze just under the head, an action he found that Changbin seemed to like as his head fell back against the headboard with a loud thunk - more sinful moans falling filling the air.

“Binnie,” he brought his bottom lip between his teeth once more as he watched the way Changbin’s back arched, hips jerking up into his hand, driving his cock faster into his fist. “Changbinnie~” he tried again, successfully getting the other’s attention this time. Dark eyes clouded with lust locked with his and Aiden gasped sharply, lips pressing together to suppress a moan because fuck if that look wasn’t hot.

“What is it?” Aiden stuttered, stumbling over his words as he tried to tell Changbin that he wanted to be touched too, but the words simply wouldn’t come out. The corner of Changbin’s lip curled upwards and Aiden pouted, whining in frustration.

“Me too.” He sounded like a child, wanting to be included and Changbin could only chuckle as he shifted on the bed - weight resting more on his left side as he reached over and ghosted his fingers over Aiden’s crotch, pulling a loud gasp from the other.

“I barely touched you.”

“Felt good anyway.” Aiden whispered, eyes closing and head-turning away from embarrassment. Changbin laughed lightly, head shaking at the comment. Aiden was truly something else. His hand cupped Aiden, fingers closing around him lightly, stroking slowly. Aiden’s hips jerked up at the touch, loud whimpers and moans leaving him.

“Be quiet, don’t want my mom to hear.” Changbin scolded lightly, receiving a whine in protest, yet Aiden bit his bottom lip to try and stifle the noises that wanted to spill from him. The pleasure he felt was different. It was stronger, heightened and he could only imagine it was like that because someone else was touching him. It was exhilarating.

“Binnie.” Aiden breathed, breath hitching as he jerked his hips up again, his cock sliding against the loose fist around his still covered cock. “Please.” He practically begged. Changbin grunted and tightened his grip, but his hand was slow - almost lazy - as he mimicked the pace Aiden had slowed to on his own dick.

“This better?”

“No.” It sounded almost like a growl, Aiden’s brows furrowed together in frustration because it certainly wasn’t better. Sure Changbin was stroking him but it wasn’t nearly as fast as Aiden wanted. It was like a small sizzle of fire just under his skin and he needed some winds to fan the flames and make him burn.

“Maybe you should start moving your hand then.” Changbin quipped, smirk dancing on his lips as Aiden finally turned his head back and stared at Changbin.

“You’re the worst.” He whispered with a pout and Changbin snorted.

“Hey, I wanna get off too. So start stroking.” Aiden rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened around Changbin and he started stroking him once more. His mind was focused once more on how Changbin felt in his hand, and the lewd moans he was pulling from the other, so loud against his ear. And he was the one that supposed to be quiet? “Fuck, just like that.” Hot and heavy - breathless - the words were whispered, Changbin’s lips grazing against his ear as he shifted closer to him. The hand left him, and Aiden was close to sobbing and begging for more that it was actually humiliating. But he wanted it so badly. He needed Changbin’s hand on him.

Thankfully, before any words could leave his lips, Changbin’s hand slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and underwear. The second skin met skin, Aiden could swear he saw heaven because fuck if that didn’t feel amazing. “Binnie.” Aiden whimpered pathetically, his voice nearly inaudible over the loud hiss Changbin let out as Aiden squeezed him just a little too hard. Panting harshly, Changbin gripped Aiden and stroked him quickly, chuckling as Aiden jerked and trembled under his touch. His thumb grazed over the head, smearing each bead of precum that bubbles up.

Aiden groaned as he lowered his head to rest on Changbin’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut as he basked in the pleasure the other was causing. Briefly, he released Changbin’s cock long enough to shift himself into a more comfortable position facing the other. Reaching back down, he grabbed Changbin again and started stroking him - mimicking the way Changbin’s fingers moved over his cock. His movements were quick and not nearly as clean as Changbin’s but it seemed to be enough. Breaths mixed and mingled, moans lingering in the silent room as the two boys worked to get each other off.

It was embarrassing how quickly Aiden reached his end, the heat in his gut coiling tighter and tighter. “Changbin.” He breathed out, wiggling against the other to grip the other’s wrist with his free hand and failing. “Stop, gonna cum.” Even with the warning, Changbin didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. It only seemed to spur him on more as he stroked his cock faster. He was twitching and leaking heavily in Changbin’s grasp. “Chang-“

“Cum.” The demand whispered so hotly in his ear had Aiden tensing, his body reacting on its own. Needy whines and choked gasps fell past parted lips as Aiden’s head fell back onto the pillows behind him as he came into Changbin’s hand. It was intense, an orgasm that Aiden didn’t think it was possible he could have. He certainly couldn’t get himself off this well.

“Fuck, shit.” He gasped out, muscles slowly relaxing as the last wave of ecstasy washed over him. The soft hum from Changbin captured Aiden’s attention and he reminded of what he should have been doing. He started moving his still hand once more, finding the movement slicker and as he looked down he realized Changbin already came - his cock softening in his hand, so he released him. He was at a loss for words now, both of them quiet save for their pants as they rode down their highs.

Silently, Changbin reached over Aiden and grabbed a few tissues from his bedside table. Cleaning up their messes took a bit of time and in the end, Aiden was sure there was probably some cum that got on the comforter. “So, have fun?” Changbin asked as he tossed the wads of tissues into the trash can.

“Yeah.” Aiden swallowed thickly, tongue swiping against his dry lips in an effort to revitalize them. “That was mind-blowing.” He said and laughed lightly.

“You think that was mind-blowing? Wait till you actually have sex.” Changbin snorted as he settled back down in his bed, laptop long-forgotten near the end. “You’ve had sex?” Aiden asked in shock, eyes wide. How could his best friend not tell him something that important?

“No, I’m just saying.” Changbin said quickly. “I hear it’s supposed to be really good.”

“Oh.” Aiden wasn’t at all convinced, but he would let it go for now.

“So, can you say with 100% conviction that you’re gay?” Changbin asked, reminding Aiden of the whole point of them even jerking each other off.

“Oh! Yeah.” He said, a goofy smile spreading over his lips. “Dicks are fucking amazing.”

“Are they now?”

“Completely. I wonder if Felix has a nice dick?” Aiden contemplated, crying out when Changbin shoved him roughly off his bed. “Dude!”

“I just got you off and you’re talking about another man. Not in my bed!”

Groaning, Aiden sat up and leaned against the side of the bed. He stuck his tongue out at Changbin, laughing.

“Whatever. Wanna shower?” He asked and Changbin nodded. “Cool, but no butt stuff!” Aiden said as he climbed to his feet, grinning.

“I swear to god, I’m going to drown you under the showerhead.” Changbin threatened halfheartedly, pulling another laugh from Aiden as the male walked naked from his room.

“You know you love me!”

Yeah, maybe he did.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #fanfic #stray kids au #skz au #au story #the firsts #humor #fluff #felix x oc #changbin x oc #changbin x oc x felix #smut #skz smut #stray kids smut

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tameila · 4 years

Text

Bird Song.

Characters/Pairings: Mei Birdwhistle (OC), Pike Trickfoot, Scanlan Shorthalt, Grog Strongjaw (mentioned), Pikelan

Summary: [~2k words, post-VM, canon adjacent] Mei Birdwhistle, adventurer by trade and enthusiast by hobby, leaps on a chance to meet her idol, Scanlan Shorthalt.

Warnings: none Notes: my piece for Pikelan Day’s oracle Scanlan theme! this is an incredibly self-indulgent little AU, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I probably won’t post it on ao3 since it’s Pikelan-centric content is low, so please enjoy this lil tumblr exclusive! <3

The poster on the tavern’s community board was unremarkable. Lots of flowery black inked cursive on white parchment with little else to draw the eyes, so Mei Birdwhistle could understand why so many had overlooked it. After all, she had done the same two days in a row before, on her last afternoon in town, in one final attempt at finding a task interesting enough to keep her, she caught the address of the quest’s giver: Edge of church district. Past the bridge. Red brick cottage.

There could be no mistake who posted this notice.

With a gasp and a flash of adrenaline, Mei tore the paper from the board and tucked it away into the pocket of her travel cloak. No one rushed her. The ambient noise of the tavern at her back continued on unperturbed, but Mei’s heart beat a frantic song in her ear — a song of triumph and adventure.

She swept out the door as it opened. As a gnome from a predominately human city, she learned from a young age that doors were a problem for taller folk, and it was best to wait for them to be opened rather than exert herself unnecessarily. The couple whose legs she snuck between were less than pleased to be knocked askew, but she threw a smiled apology over her shoulder and ran on.

She pulled the poster from her cloak once she escaped the busy, long-leg infested thoroughfare and found a calmer street. With the knowledge that its lackluster design held greater promise, she dedicated herself to a more thorough read-through of the notice:

FEELING BORED? UNFULFILLED?

DO YOU HAVE A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR DAD?

TRY ADVENTURING!

I am looking for a party of 3 or more novice-to-intermediate level adventurers to fetch a gem from Gatshadow. The gem is cool-colored, will probably have an iridescent shimmer or magical glow, and can fit comfortably in the palm of a gnome or similar-sized folk. May be cursed. Definitely haunted. Oh, and the gem is located in a wyvern den.

FIRE RESISTANT ARMOR WILL NOT BE PROVIDED. PLEASE BRING YOUR OWN.

ONE (1) SUPPORT MANDATORY.

For further information…

Mei’s reading trailed off as she reached the address, having already committed it to heart, and her thoughts instead wandered to the newest challenge at hand. She did not have a party. Not currently, at least. She had left Bulwark and the others in Whitestone two weeks ago after they had told her about their plans to stay in the city for a while, build a headquarters of sorts, and bunkered down on their research.

Unlike them, she could not stop.

Not when there was so much world left to see.

But — they were not her first party, and they would not be her last.

“I wonder if Sasha’s in the area,” Mei muttered under her breath. Somewhere rattling in her pack, probably lodged between her spare flute reeds and lyre strings, was a sending stone. And, maybe, if she had not turned the corner and spotted the red brick cottage in the distance, she might have taken it out and sent a message, but — as it were — she saw her destination and any thought of rekindling fragile flames fell flat in the face of her resurging excitement.

She was about to meet Scanlan Shorthalt.

Her idol.

Her inspiration to take up the bardic call.

Very little could deter her path now, and Mei took off down the road with a jump and a click of her heels.

❀❀❀

Pike Trickfoot was as beautiful as every story and legend described. Gentle eyes above a dazzling smile. A voice like a summer breeze. “Oh, hello,” was all she said, “Can I help you?” and Mei fell mute, the tips of her pointed ears burning.

With the paper held tight in her trembling hands, Mei presented it to Pike.

“You’re here about the quest?”

Mei nodded.

“Great! Come on in. Make yourself at home,” Pike said without a dip in enthusiasm, ushering Mei through the foyer to the living room. A whimsical dance of flute music drifted from somewhere deeper in the house, and Mei melted into an offered armchair, eased by the sound. Pike, with a quick “I’ll go get my husband”, smiled and disappeared up a nearby staircase.

Mei waited until her pounding footfalls faded before bouncing up from her seat. With rapt attention, she walked around the living room and snuck peeks at the other areas of the house. It had been some years since Mei left home, and many more years since her family had lived in a true gnomish home. Mei could see the bread starter on the kitchen windowsill from here, and she ran her fingers over the knick knacks on the mantelpiece. There was an empty space of wood flooring between the dining room and the living room, perfect for a spell of dancing after an evening meal. Mei’s fingers plucked at invisible strings as a plucky, folk tune sprung to mind as she continued her exploration.

Amongst the knick knacks and on either side of a statuette of Sarenrae were two wooden dolls, weather-worn and clearly hand-carved: one of Pike and the other — Well, she could only assume it was of Scanlan.

Huh. She’d never really thought about it before...that she didn’t know what Scanlan looked like, not truly, beyond the elaborate portraits he would include in his books.

“I carved those myself.”

Mei’s hand paused a centimeter away from the face of the Scanlan doll. She could feel the almost-sensation of contact on her fingertips. Flushed and embarrassed, Mei spun around to face Scanlan Shorthalt in all his true glory.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop. I just — Your home is beautiful, Mr. Shorthalt! It reminds me of my own childhood home, and — ”

Scanlan laughed and waved a hand as if dismissing the rest of her ramble and, as if by magic (and maybe it was), Mei felt the words leave her. “Please, call me Mr. Trickfoot, if you must. Scanlan is preferable. Shorthalt is my nom de plume.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Oh! Yes!” Mei hurried forward, holding out a hand to properly introduce herself as her upbringing would dictate. “My name is Mei Birdwhistle, sir — Ah, I mean, Scanlan.” When Scanlan took her offered hand, she shook his hand with — she would admit — a bit too much vigor. “I am an adventurer by trade and an enthusiast by hobby! I am so pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Birdwhistle, huh? Any relation to Ken Birdwhistle, the councilmen in Emon?”

“Yes, he’s my father!” A pleased warmth flooded Mei’s cheeks. How amazing! To think that The Scanlan Shorthalt knew her father’s name. “Have you met him?”

“Once, when he was sworn into his post,” Scanlan said, gesturing for her to take a seat in her abandoned armchair before sitting in the rocking chair by the fireplace. “Sometimes the powers that be in Tal’dorei seem to forget that I’m not the only gnome of note...but! Your father’s doing a lot of great work in Emon, so I won’t say it wasn’t a pleasure.”

Mei nodded. She couldn’t believe her father had never mentioned meeting Scanlan. She was still a young girl when her father moved them from the countryside to Emon. Then again, when she considered it...Things were often a blur in her adolescence...She wondered in her father had ever tried to seek Mrs. Trickfoot’s assistance with…

“...about the quest. However, I notice — ”

Mei came back to the moment with a chirped, “Hm?”

“Is the rest of your party on their way? Or, did you pick the short straw at the tavern?”

“Well…I don’t...Technically, I’m at the moment...gathering…”

Scanlan laughed. “Didn’t think that far ahead, huh?” and as much as it was accusatory, his tone was equally paternal, like he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar and not admitting that she came here just to meet him.

“I don’t have a party, no, but I can get one.”

“I wasn’t aware they were just handing them out these days.”

Mei grinned. “You would be surprised.”

Again, Scanlan laughed, and Mei followed his lead. First, she giggled her usual windchime of a laugh — short and sweet and contained, but she could not help but be memorized by the casual manner in which Scanlan lounged and laughed, his expression open and his voice filling the room.

She could not help but follow.

She threw her head back and laughed, which — if she were to reflect on the situation — was exactly where she went wrong. Half a laugh in, a spear of pain spiked through her chest, and her next laugh became half a cough and the next a cough half-laughed until she was coughing and wheezing and fumbling for her handkerchief.

“Um, Pike…”

There’s Scanlan’s voice and then the rattling of a tea tray somewhere beyond her before a gentle hand laid itself on her back, and Mei finally sucked in a breath that stayed. Meekly, with her handkerchief clutched tight to her chest, she looked up through her bangs at the gentle, smiling face of Pike Trickfoot and mumbled,

“Thank you.”

Pike did not remove her hand right away, a flicker of something flashing across her features, but... Then a teacup found its way to her hand, and Pike settled by Scanlan’s side and Scanlan resumed their conversation as if they’d never left off and...Maybe Mei was just being paranoid.

“I’ll be honest with you, Mei, I’m getting up there in years now,” Scanlan said, and Mei noted the wistful note to his voice and how, at his side, Pike muffled a laugh. She hid her own smile behind her teacup. “That’s why I’ve been more prone to outsourcing quests, you see, but...Well, how about I accompany you on this quest?”

Mei just barely saved her teacup from spilling as she jolted with surprise. “Y - You’ll come with me?”

“Sure!” Scanlan boomed and turned to Pike with an added, “My lovely wife and our friend, Grog, will come too, right?”

Pike nodded. “It will be nice to get out of the house, and — ” The door to the back garden opened, and Mei turned to see a goliath ducking through the doorway, stomping his boots and calling out his arrival. When she turned back to Pike and Scanlan, she saw Pike beaming widely, “That’ll be Grog. Here, how about we put this conversation on hold for a moment and start some dinner. You’re invited to stay, of course, Mei.”

Mei’s head spun, but her need to politely decline still came through, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother…”

“A bother? Nonsense!”

“We insist!”

Mei refused two more times before, with common courtesies accounted for, she smiled and agreed.

❀❀❀

“So, you think it’s her?”

Pike and Scanlan stood in the kitchen, tucked away in a corner out of sight from the dinner table where Mei and Grog were playing a game of bolder-parchment-sheers over the last biscuit. Scanlan pawed at some dishes in the sink, eyes on the horizon beyond the window but his mind farther. To Pike’s question, he shrugged.

“You know how these visions are….You never know for sure, but Ioun hasn’t knocked on my head to tell me ‘no’, so I’ll take it that we’re moving in the right direction.”

Pike leaned into his side, her cheek squishing up against his shoulder. Under her touch, an until-then-noticed tension melts away with a sigh.

“The girl’s cursed, by the way.”

Scanlan groaned, folding forward to lean over the sink in defeat. “And, this is, I’m just going to assume here..No whim-wham-Greater Restoration-and bam?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

#Critical Role #Scanlan Shorthalt #Pike Trickfoot #Pikelan #Pikelan Day #this is so self-indulgent and pointless but it exists now and I Love It!!!#my writing

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leafdrake-haven · 4 years

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Fan Character February

Ok friends! I’m gonna try to get some real planning done so we can make a list people can get ready for it! I’m probably gonna try tagging people who seemed interested before as well :3

So I’m liking the idea themed weeks! That seems fun and a good way to organize and like @niuttuc said isn’t too harsh on the planning. So far I only have preliminary ideas so keep that in mind!

So current ideas I’m having are maybe:

Week 1: Origins/Introductions!

A week dedicated to introducing your OCs. Character sheets, spark stories, flip cards (or others that just show off your character really well especially if they’re not a walker) etc. It would also be an extra good week for questions, though maybe it would be good to dedicate the weekend to that instead of the whole week so people don’t get overwhelmed.

Week 2: Relationships

A week showing your characters’ friends, family, and partners! There’s a lot of good wiggle room here since relationship is broad term. Rivals? Gods/patrons? Animal companions? Anything is game!

Week 3: Ummm?!

Honestly I’m having trouble with this week. Maybe AU/crossover? Everyone likes to speculate what pokemon team their OC would have or digimon partner. Maybe explore if your character had inverted colors? Very open to suggestions here.

Week 4: Collab/Interactions?

This one is another iffy one but I think it could be fun. Now that everyone has been introduced to each other’s characters maybe they could meet? Obviously not everyone would be comfortable with that (so maybe ask first?) but it would be a fun activity for those who are! It’s always fun to see a character and be like, “Oh, my character would totally get along with them!” A good chance for cute one-shots even if they aren’t in either characters’ “canon”.

It could also be good even if it was just your own characters meeting/interacting or even if your characters met/interacted with canon MtG characters since I don’t see that all the time.

So those are the ideas I currently have! Like I said, the last two weeks I feel are a little more wishy-washy so I’m hoping for some feedback/more ideas! Also, is there a good way to keep that discussion in a place where everyone who wants to see/contribue can? Should I make another a side-blog for this project?

I’m going to tag some people who seemed interested in the last big post I made about this or people I may have accidentally overlooked the first time. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN MORE POSTS ABOUT THIS PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!!! (sorry in advanced for inevitably forgetting some people)

@storycircle @connoissuer-of-fine-vines @joekabox @take-on-meme @bizarre-trader @circlesmadeofglass @orien-siren-illusionist @tibalt-the-fineblooded @bace-jeleren @yawgmoth-lord-of-sin @maris-solstice @corvus-von-wolff @batsintheshadows @raw9rytel @thegreatskywhale @flavoracle @thetalesofthereneverwood

Ok that seems like a lot of people so I think I will stop scouring the notes of the original post now :P

Have a good night everyone!

#fan character February #fanwalker #mtg ocs #mtg fan characters #hopefully i'm not bothering anyone by tagging them #i just want to bounce ideas around so I can make sure everyone has fun!#and i'm hoping to get a final schedule done so people can plan!#tabby talks #again please tell me if you don't want to be tagged in posts like this #i tried to get only people who responded to the other post so hopefully y'all don't mind

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jinterlude · 4 years

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The Best Circus Ever!

↳ Photo/Fansite Credits: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

» Pairing(s): Seokjin x OC (feat. Jungkook x OC)

» Genre(s): Royal!AU, Modern Royal!AU, Relationship!AU, Circus Themed, Romance, Friendship, Fluff, Humor, & Angst (if you really squint lol)

» Warning(s)/Rating: light-swearing, mentions of clowns (not in a horror type of way), and a lot of headassery by the main characters // PG-13

» Word Count: 1.2K

» Summary: Who says that Seokjin is the only and biggest lovesick fool for his loved one?

“Guess what! The kingdom of Breterra is putting on their first circus!”

Sowon and Jungkook eyed the overly eager and rather energetic princess strangely. Prince Jungkook turned to his queen - his lover - with hopeful eyes. He silently prayed that his headstrong queen and voice of reason could kindly reject Princess Sumin’s idea.

Instead, the complete opposite occurred.

“You serious? I call being one of the animal tamers!” Sowon shouted, playfully winking at Jungkook. For added measure, she cracked her invisible whip with an alluring smile.

Jungkook’s face immediately became red from embarrassment as his eyes grew wide. On the other hand, Sumin gagged. She definitely did not want that risque image of her dearest friend and boyfriend embedded in her mind.

Notably, not after what happened last night, the entire reason why Sumin planned her kingdom’s first circus.

Up until last night, Sumin bottled every single frustration and annoyance to the point that Seokjin told only one of his signature puns, and she lashed the fuck out.

“For one minute, can you please stop telling your stupid ass puns!? They are not fucking funny, and they never were! So, stop trying!”

Sumin sucked in air between her clenched teeth. Yeah, the more she remembered her cold words, the more she knew that this circus had to be the best event ever.

Quickly shaking off last night’s guilt, Sumin smiled brightly and told both Sowon and Jungkook that they had a lot of work ahead of them.

And, before they knew it, opening night arrived accompanied by a massive wave of nervousness in a certain princess…

“Are you sure it’s not too late to talk Sumin out of this? I mean, she’s gonna be known as the princess who dressed up like a freaking clown!”

Sowon continuously ignored Jungkook as she searched for Sumin’s cute clown outfit.

Minutes passed by before the supportive queen successfully found the princess’s outfit for tonight. She held it up, displaying it proudly for the fool that she called a boyfriend.

“But, at least she’s gonna be known as an adorable clown! You gotta think optimistically here, Kook.” Sowon flashed her famous 100-watt smile.

Jungkook’s face fell, shaking his head as he sat up from his seat and muttered to himself,

“And I thought we made fun of Jinnie for being the lovesick fool.”

“I don’t see it as being lovesick. I see it as Sumin being dedicated to her man!”

“You heard me?!”

Now fully dressed in her circus outfit, the anxiousness crashed into Sumin’s body like a fifty-foot tidal wave. With trembling fingers, Sumin pulled the red velvet curtains enough for her peek through. A faint gasp escaped her lips as she saw her fiancé front and center in the first row.

Soon, a soft smile graced her painted face as Seokjin’s complete and utter confusion looked quite humorous to her. However, before she could get lost in her loving thoughts of Seokjin, the announcer's voice interrupted her. The woman signaled both to the audience and the performers that the show was about to begin.

“Alright...it’s showtime!”

Taking one final breath, Sumin mustered all the courage in the world and dramatically pulled open the curtain.

Shocks and gasps echoed throughout the brightly lit tent, followed by cheers and screams of joy.

“Ahh! You look so cute, Princess Sumin!”

“Usually, clowns creeped me out to no end, but you look so adorable, Princess Sumin!”

Sumin’s face practically beamed as she held up the microphone to her red-stained lips.

“Good evening, people of Breterra, and welcome to our first annual circus! As you know, my name is Sumin, and before I introduce the first act of the evening, I thought it would be fun to warm up the crowd first. What do you guys think? Sounds good?” She asked before holding out the microphone towards the audience, though, her eyes locked on Seokjin.

Seokjin, chuckling at how charming his princess was being, gave her thumbs up. Typically, it was him pulling out all the stops to make it up to Sumin after they had a huge argument. But his princess just had to top his last event. Honestly, Seokjin knew his princess was moody, so he didn’t take her words to heart. He knew that Sumin loved him, terrible jokes, and all, so he didn’t question it nor felt offended by it. If anything, he felt angry with her for not telling him what bothered her so damn much. He warned her that she’d eventually lashed out if she didn’t talk it out.

And did she listen?

Nope.

Now, she landed herself in this rather interesting predicament.

Well, he might as well enjoy this moment since he’d probably never see Sumin dress up like a clown again.

Pouring his attention toward his princess, he eagerly stared at her, waiting for her warm-up skit.

“Poor baby, she probably feels nervous…” He thought, slightly worried for her.

“Alright, everyone! Are you guys ready?!”

Cheers and applause erupted from the audience.

“That’s the energy I love to see! Okay! So, did you guys hear about the clown who ran away with the circus?”

“No…!”

“They made him bring it back!”

A second after she said the punch line, the hired drummer played that signature drum rift.

Then, an awkward silence filled the entire tent. If it could, it would float to the hemisphere and cover the whole planet.

Sumin puffed her cheeks, looking extremely adorable, before telling her next joke.

“Okay, why are circus performers often stressed?!

The audience glanced at one another before collectively mumbling,

“...why…?”

“Because their jobs are in tents!”

Once more, the hired drummer played the drum rift, and this time, Seokjin’s infamous windshield-like laughter followed.

“Good one, honey!!” Seokjin encouraged his fiancée as he clapped enthusiastically.

Sumin blew a kiss towards him, “See, this is why I am marrying that handsome man, who is sitting front and center! He supports me and crazy antics, even when I don’t deserve it. I can always count him to be in my corner, rooting for me and encouraging me to become better,” Sumin then walked towards him and got down on one, “Seokjin, I was and still am a complete clown for not listening to you. Can you ever forgive me?” She asked, smiling sweetly as she pulled out a rose from its hiding place.

A collective, “awe” sounded throughout the circus tent.

Seokjin shook his head playfully, taking the rose from his princess’s hand.

“You dork, I forgave you an hour after our fight,” He kissed Sumin’s temple sweetly, “But I’ll forgive you even more if you tell one more circus pun.”

“NO!”

Both Seokjin and Sumin stared at the audience, looking a bit offended by their shouts.

Just as Sumin put the microphone to her lips, Sowon’s voice interrupted the happy couple.

“Okay, now that you two made up. Go to Sumin’s room and start practicing to produce future heirs! Jungkook and I can finish up the circus.”

“SOWON!”

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this crack/humor story. To think, all I need to do is become a clown, and then inspiration will strike me! I like to thank @softjeon for giving me this idea! This year is the year where we are all clowns, whether we know it or not. LOL

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this rather amusing yet entertaining special chapter (though it was supposed to be a drabble, so I’m in trouble with Jey)! Also, for the picture/fansite credits, they are linked in the order of where I found them/came across first. So, the fansite picture credits are the last 4 numbers!

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/and an ask in my inbox! I love hearing your thoughts!

- Kim

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z-iridest · 4 years

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(A/N: Okay, I haven't tried my hand at writing Attack On Titan in a while, and I've never written any on here so... I'm gonna try my best! Apologies ahead of time if the characters are out of character at all! This will be about two ocs, two sisters from our world. This will be part 1, the transfer from our world to the Attack On Titan world. If you enjoyed it, leave a like and comment to let me know you want more. Oh, and this is dedicated to @c-deftone. My friend, I hope my writing here provides as much joy to you as your writing does for me)

Attack On Titan: Warriors Soul- Part One

Our World: Present Day.....

A sharp intake of breath entered the nose of a 23 year old young woman, shortly before leaving her dark pink lips in a sigh of exasperation, her concentration on the task at hand broken. Her dark hazel eyes flicked toward the tv, a glaringly loud theme song echoing into her ears all the way from the living room of the apartment she shared with her sister. Rendering the situation to focus on her current task hopeless, she stood and walked over to the younger girl perched on the living room couch. Her dark chocolate brown hair swayed as she walked before draping over her shoulders to see her little sister's expression.

15 years younger than her sister, at only 8 years of age, was Akairi Takashiro. Akairi's chocolate brown eyes were trained on the screen before her, unmoving even as her older sister bent over the back of the couch to see her. Her hair was naturally a very beautiful golden brown, however, she had dyed it to a dark auburn that even her sister had to admit looked good on her. Due to her poor eyesight from a young age, Akairi wore glasses, though they kept slipping down her nose every now and then. Since her chocolate brown eyes were so trained on the screen, she had barely noticed when her glasses slipped down her nose again, merely squinting at the screen when her eyesight suddenly got fuzzy. Rolling her eyes, the older sister reached over and pushed the glasses back up her little sister's nose, getting her sister's attention in that moment. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?" Akairi asked her sister, getting a look of annoyance in return.

"I would be if somebody wasn't blasting the damn tv... The hell're you even watching anyway?" Her older sister asked, her hazel eyes flickering to the tv.

"Shingeki no Kyojin." Akairi answered, her eyes not leaving the scene that was unfolding before her. Kana raised an eyebrow.

"Translation? I'm not a nerd like you with this stuff, especially when it comes to cartoons..."

"Kana, I've told you a thousand times, it's anime! The art style is extremely different, not to mention the original episodes of an anime are in Japanese with English subtitles! Secondly, the correct term is otaku, not nerd! Nerds are people who are highly into stuff like Star Wars, Dungeons and Dragons, and superhero comics and go to ComiCons cosplaying as their favorite comic book characters!"

"You go to AnimeCons cosplaying your favorite characters from anime, I hardly see a difference." Kana deadpanned, gaining a look of annoyance from her younger sister. "You still didn't answer my question about the English name for this anime."

"The literal translation is Attack Giant, but the English title itself is Attack On Titan." Akairi seemed to have calmed down from her temper tantrum. Seeing no point to return to her work at that current time, Kana moved around the couch and sat down beside her sister.

"What's this even about?" Kana asked.

"Well, to put it short and sweet without any spoilers, Attack on Titan is anime about a world where humanity lives in cities behind three enormous walls that protect them from Titans. Titans are giant, humanoid creatures with a taste for human blood." Akairi summed up.

"Why do the Titans eat humans?" Kana asked. Akairi merely shrugged.

"No one knows." Akairi answered. It was silent for a minute as the girls watched the anime together before Kana spoke up again.

"What episode is this anyway?" Kana asked.

"Episode 2." Akairi replied.

"Hang on, didn't you watch this one already?"

"Yeah, but I'm waiting on season 4 to come out. I might as well refresh the story more and more to make sure I remember everything by the time season 4 premieres." The comment caused Kana to roll her eyes before something caught her eye. A Titan was charging the gate.

"Uh, Akairi? What the hell is that?" Kana asked. Akairi looked nervous.

"The Armored Titan." She answered before Kana watched as the Armored Titan broke through the wall.

"Oh, my god..." Kana murmured, finding herself thankful that it wasn't real for her or her sister. Just as the scene turned to the Armored Titan looking straight at them, the picture suddenly froze. Kana raised an eyebrow. "What'd you pause it for?" She asked, turning her head to find her sister pale in the face before looking up at her.

"I didn't pause it..."

"Why do you look like you saw a ghost? The internet connection's probably just buffering." Kana asked, trying to ease her sister and herself, but to no avail. Akairi merely pointed to the screen, showing that there was no buffering symbol. Akairi squeaked when a thunderous sound echoed in their home, the thundering sound of a giant footstep. Kana looked around. What the hell was that?

"K-Kana...." Akairi stuttered out before screaming when she looked at the screen again. Kana turned her head to the screen once more to see that the Armored Titan's eyes were glowing red, the dust cloud from the debris filling their home. Akairi was trembling, obviously scared out of her mind. Kana bit back the question of whether or not this was normal... Her sister's fear showed that it wasn't.

"Akairi..." Kana reached for her sister, but before she could grab Akairi, a strong gust of wind blew through the house, forcing the two to opposite sides of the room. Akairi was in full on panic mode as the wind suddenly started to suck them towards a portal. Thinking quickly, Akairi latched on to the strongest thing she could get her hands on, which ended up being a support beam. "Kana, help me!" She shouted over the wind. Kana struggled to move toward her sister as the beam cracked a bit, making Akairi scream.

"Akairi, hang on! I'm coming!" Kana yelled toward her sister as she continued to move. Just as the beam gave way, Kana reached Akairi, diving for her little sister's hand and grabbing it. Kana dug her heels into the floor as the wind grew stronger, as if trying to force the girls apart. Something didn't want them together.... Kana looked at the Armored Titan, the red of it's eyes gleaming through the dust. She looked down at her sister, who was slipping through her grasp despite her best efforts to hold onto the 8 year old. After years of fighting courts tooth and nail, she finally had the right to take care of Akairi, and now something was trying to tear them apart again.... She couldn't let it happen!

"I'm slipping! I can't hold on!" Akairi whimpered, Kana able to feel how much her younger sister was currently trembling.

"Akairi! I need you to promise me something!" Akairi looked up at her sister, shrieking when her hand started to slip out of Kana's grasp. "No matter what, stay alive! You hear me?! No matter what it takes, I will find you again, I promise!" Kana promised. Just as Akairi nodded, the Armored Titan's mouth opened, causing the wind to heat up and strengthen even more in power. The wind tore Akairi from her older sister's grip and sucking the two girls into the tv, the girls separated as they free fell.

No matter what it takes, I will find you again, Akairi...

I promise...

(A/N: To be continued in part 2! Hope you enjoyed it thus far, please like and comment if you want to know what happens next! From now on, the perspectives are going to switch back and forth from Kana to Akairi, Kana's starting with a journal entry after the second part)

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jjba-arni-reblog · 4 years

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Connection

Alright! This is a bit different. This is a special gift from me to @rasasvavda - an incredible artist who I commissioned an amazing piece. This is my part, my appreciation for the author and her work. The story follows DIO and her OC Akali. The artist provided me with quite some information to work with. This small fic reflects on key moments in their relationship as the two of them slowly realize one’s feelings. There are also soulmate themes established at the start of the work.

@rasasvavda there ya go!~~~ I HOPE you’ll like it! It was a pleasure and a challenge to write for such interesting character! I appreciate your work and support and I wish you only the best!

Words: 3K (damn, I got invested)

A world where not only stand users are connected, but also lovers. Soulmates. While the regular people could feel each other’s soulmate’s emotions, for stand users it was quite different. Being connected by the stands, the soulmate connection wasn’t as prominent and could be easily missed. No wonder they are so little stories of two soulmates finding each other. Their emotions affect their soulmate’s stand, changing their attack power, speed and sometimes even appearance. One could only hope to find the connection between a person and one’s stand changing. So, it was rare, yet not impossible. And those who succeed to find one’s soulmate, found the connection between one another even stronger than stand users might feel. All it takes is to realize one’s feelings and show the stand.

~ ~ ~

“Introduce yourself to me, DIO” the man on the throne commanded.

“My name is Akali, in Punjabi it means The follower of the Immortal One“ the woman explained to the man before her.

“That’s quite ironic knowing who is standing before you” he noted.

“Certainly” Akali answered, trying her hardest to not roll her eyes at the ego of the blonde.

“What do you search for? What does one crave?” DIO asked eyeing the woman, trying to find any sight of fear or reluctancy. None were present, which made the lord smirk.

“For now, these is no pain or revenge in my heart, I am a simple follower, searching for the luxuries of life. By serving you one might obtain such privileges” Akali explained, still no fear present in her eyes.

“Then join me, you could be a great addition to my followers. I can give you wealth, power, anything your soul desires” the blonde confidently proclaimed.

“But don’t expect me to kiss your ass, lord DIO” Akali replied, hoping to establish herself early in this working relationship.

“Ho?~ What a sharp tongue you have. One does not refer to me, DIO, in such way, but I’ll let it pass this time as I could see that your sharpness comes from the passion and strength within you. This once, I will ignore such comment. I can’t wait to witness your power and dedication, Akali.”

“Likewise” the woman smirked. It is going to be an interest work.

~ ~ ~

“Tell me about your culture, Akali. I have noticed that you take great pride in it” the man suddenly spoke out one evening.

It seems like the Lord Dio has heard of Kali’s encounter with some of his fewer notable servants, that deemed themselves appropriate enough to try and discourage you from longing for culture. Unfortunately for them, they were quickly shut down by woman’s sharp remarks as she wasn’t too keen on letting some scumbags put stereotypes on her.

“I respect your strong desire for the connection with your culture, in contrast with simple-minded peasants that can only retort to seemingly pointless arguments and even less intelligent opinions” DIO pointed out, unusual praising words leaving his mouth.

“Why such interest, Lord Dio?” Kali raised her eyebrow, not trusting the man before her. After all he was also known for his cruel and sharp words, not mentioning punishments.

“It is a simple interest of mine to educate myself. Learn about other talented individuals as well as simply acquiring knowledge of other cultures” he answered while approaching the cupboard to find a bottle of wine together with two glasses.

“So, the lord Dio thinks of me this highly?” her teasing tone didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde as the man let out a deep chuckle, finding himself in a rather interesting situation.

“Perhaps, who knows?” lord DIO answered, not bothering to elaborate further.

The two of them didn’t need to worry about getting drunk as both had high alcohol tolerance, instead drinking to relax and continue with intellectual conversations. As Akali told DIO about her culture, sometimes even switching to German when needed, the time went on quickly, the pair surprisingly maintained the conversation on equal terms, being respectful and even understanding of each other opinions, even if they didn’t always match.

After some time, the conversation switched to makeup products, in this case – lipsticks.

“May I ask you, lord DIO, about your taste in lip products, since I have witnessed your unique appearance and tastes” Kali asked a bit unsure if the man before her will even consider her question. Yet she had to try her luck.

“You may. I am a man of diverse interests and lip products are one of those things, I have couple of products in my collection, you may have seen me wearing a particular green one around the mansion. Such colour is one of those that I, DIO, tend to prefer” he explained then continuing “But I have also noticed that you seem to share interest in lip products as well, as your usual appearance is complimented by a dark lilac purple lipstick. Frankly saying, such colour choice has also sparked my interest as it is not the usual tone one might wear daily, however…it does suit you” lord DIO has surprised Kali, earning a look of confusion from her as she couldn’t believe his positive words.

“It is the highest praise to hear such words from the Lord DIO” she commented, taking a sip of her wine to cover her smirk. The man mirrored her movements, letting out a chuckle.

“Of course”

~ ~ ~

“Dio……” she almost whispered, shaking at the movements of the bug that has now started crawling towards her, making the woman panic slightly, praying that the bug would change direction. The said man was reading a book while sipping some wine, clearly not present mentally in the situation occurring next to him.

“Mhm?” he simply mumbled, not noticing Kali’s state, not looking up from his book still.

“Fucking kill it!” the woman screamed, jumping on the table to escape the crawling monster.

Being startled by her sudden move, Dio was quick to find the source of Kali’s panic. Spider was slowly but surely crawling to the stand user, making Dio smirk at such bizarre behaviour.

DIO took the small knife situated on the table (for whatever reason it was there) and in the matter of seconds, threw it, instantly killing the bug. Turning to Kali, DIO raised an eyebrow trying his hardest not to chuckle at the woman. Noticing this, she quickly jumped down.

“DON’T” she simply stated, knowing fully that once the man had started, there will be no stopping him from his teasing commentaries.

“What an interesting sight to witness…Perhaps I, DIO, have a luck on my side today, allowing me to see another side of my precious servant” the blonde said, noticing the annoyed yet a bit flustered expression of Kali. He took in her form, hoping to remember every single detail about her embarrassed yet sharp features. This side of her was new to him and DIO was more than happy to discover more.

~ ~ ~

“What is going on?” was the first thing DIO said when finding Kali cuddling with her stand, cigarette in her lips. She was sitting on the couch with the balcony door open, not wanting to smoke indoors but still wanting to enjoy the softness of the couch. A cup of expensive coffee was situated on the cupboard next to the couch, making it easier for the stand user to reach without necessary breaking the hug. However, the bottle of stronger liquor was placed right next to the cup, implying that the last mission might not have been a complete success.

“Nothing really, lord DIO” the voice tried to reassure the man…rather unsuccessfully as DIO could feel that the tone was false, fake. The tone that tried its hardest to lie about being okay, about not needing help, about current situation.

“If I may note, this coping behaviour is unhealthy for one to have, especially in the presence of me, DIO, himself” his words came out strong, perhaps too strong as he could see the woman letting out a deep sight, making her stand disappear and quickly finishing the cigarette.

“I apologize, lord DIO, this won’t happen again” Akali reassured him with an unemotional tone. No snarky remarks, no comebacks. Nothing. As she was about to stand and leave the room, DIO motioned her to stop, instead getting himself a glass of wine then returning to the couch.

“Speak”

“What about?”

“Whatever bothers you. Or anything. Just speak. It is better than drinking your problems away. I do not wish to see my servants in such state, especially one as strong and useful as you, Kali”

“I…” she thought for a minute, trying to come up with any excuse not to reveal her anxieties. Yet the presence of her lord brought her comfort rather than fear. So maybe this once…maybe she’ll allow herself to be honest.

“Alright”

It was the first time DIO called her Kali, yet it wasn’t the last…

~ ~ ~

“Lord DIO, may I request something?” Kali approach the man as he was reading a book, quickly turning his attention to the visitor.

“What is it?” DIO asked, however there wasn’t a sharp edge in his tone. Not when she was around.

“May I request someone to train with me? Someone from your other servants perhaps. My stand requires attention to offence so having a partner to help with improving my attacks would be beneficial to my work” the woman stated, waiting for the answer of her lord.

“That is very thoughtful of you, Kali” the nickname resonated with her soul, making her feel flustered hearing how her name sounded coming from her lord’s mouth. Pleasant and almost hypnotizing.

“Sadly, I recall that no stand users are present today in this mansion, seemingly trying to find more information for me, DIO” The blonde explained then pausing for a moment “However, I, DIO, am willing to help you with the training. After all, I should be aware of any progress or weak sides my servant may have.”

“I….thank you, lord DIO I don-“ Akali excitedly answered before being interrupted by the lord.

“But I won’t reveal my stand. No matter how much I trust you, I furthermost need to take precautions. Practically no one knows about my stand’s ability and I’d rather leave it that way” DIO explained, crossing his arms after finishing.

“I understand. I am thankful for your offer to train with me. Thank you, DIO” she finished, quickly realizing her mistake “I mean LORD DIO, I apologize I-“

“DIO is fine, after all, you are one of the closest servants of mine and I could say that I trust you enough to allow such change” the blonde smirked at the panicked expression “however, one shall refer to me, DIO, only in private as to not let the speculations appear” he finished.

“Of course, DIO. Shall we start?” Kali asked. The man nodded.

Maybe having her use his name isn’t such a bad idea…

~ ~ ~

A pleasant smell could be noticed as DIO walked past the kitchen. Getting curiosity overwhelm him, DIO opened the door, noticing as familiar figure softly singing as they gathered ingredients.

Kal’s hair was now put into a high ponytail, making her appearance even more noticeable to DIO. He continued to stare at her back, not quite knowing what to do in such bizarre situation yet also not wanting to interrupt the singing.

“Is there anything you need, lord DIO?” the voice cut through the song, surprising DIO as he was known for his stealth and quiet, almost silent steps. The woman turned towards him, motioning him to enter the kitchen.

“What is the reason behind this?” straight-forward as usual the lord was.

“I simply decided to cook, to relax and enjoy good food” Akali answered as the matter of fact, not pausing to explain further to DIO, instead getting out other ingredients for the dish, carefully unpacking them. Then she spoke again “Also, since I know that you are not too keen on eating, I got you wine and blood” she motioned to the countertop where the two bottles were situated.

Hearing the reasoning DIO felt something within him clench. Homemade dishes, it was a while since he had them…it was too long ago, memories hidden somewhere within the lord as he never thought to have felt such atmosphere again. Not here, not now.

Yet a small part of him wasn’t complaining as the blonde eyed the figure concentrating on the task before her, not noticing the sharp gaze of her lord. DIO could see the small smile grace her strong feature. It was a rare sign, to see Kali this relaxed, this content with her situation, this…happy.

This familiar feeling…this long forgotten comfort and warmth

~ ~ ~

Not everyone was loyal to the lord DIO and at some point, the traitors reveal themselves. However, one could expect them to team up, trying to overtake the mansion to find all the gold and treasures hidden within it. Trying, that is.

However, the teaming up surely worked in they favor, as they succeeded in surprising the lord and his servant. Akali was quick to get ready into position, fully prepared to protect the man from the attackers. However, as the feeling of annoyance came (due to realizing that another useless group of wannabe killers is needed to be taken care of), the stand wasn’t

“Stop this, immediately” DIO ordered, however the woman didn’t seem to hear anything or didn’t want to.

“You can’t me tell what to do, let me handle it” she responded growling at the attackers.

“It seems like I can” the blonde then said, his voice sounding confused at a sight before him. Her stand, it has changed. Slightly but nonetheless it changed. Der Maister attacked carefully as if not to drain its stand user too much, trying to figure out who to attack first in order to not hurt its user. Der Maister seemed to be slightly anxious despite Akali looking confident, meaning that such emotion had a different source. DIO. This small amount of worry for the woman manifested itself in her stand, using precise movements that DIO was known for. As if reflecting the man need to make sure that his servant is alright, the stand changes its approach accordingly.

Noticing the change and realizing what is happening, DIO couldn’t help but to look at the scene in bewilderment. So that does exist? And the universe was kind enough to allow DIO himself to find his soulmate? As a slight worry came, Kali’s stand started to drain her energy more, prompting DIO to make a crucial decision.

“Kali” the voice called from behind, surprising the woman with the note of happiness that could be heard.

“What-“ she turned around, stopping in her tracks as she saw a new figure next to DIO. His stand. For the first time he let his stand out, in front of others, in front of her. The stand radiated the same powerful energy that the lord had. It suited him. However, something was off. There wasn’t a need to let the stand out, she had the situation under control as her stand quickly took care of the traitors. Yet here it was, standing next to lord DIO, eyeing the woman before him.

“There’s no need, DIO. I could handle this” Akali said, still not believing that she has the luxury to finally witness the strongest stand there is.

“I let it out to observe. Say, Kali, what are your feelings about me, DIO?” came the question.

“What’s this question out of the sudden?” the woman asked confused at the change of topic.

“Just answer me, Kali”

“I am devoted to you, DIO. As a servant and…as a friend, if you’ll allow me to call you such. I look up to you, hoping to protect you from any useless attacks of your enemies. I feel….content being by your side, in one way than another. That’s the truth” Akali said, feeling the slight worry overtake her. Maybe she said too much, revealed too much even though she tried her hardest to act reasonably, to not let personal feelings get a hold of her.

Feeling his stand to get stronger, DIO couldn’t help but to smirk. This has fully confirmed his theory. They have found each other. Letting his stand approach the remaining attackers, DIO continued.

“It seems like the universe has different plans for us, Kali” he let his stand take out the attackers, making sure that the woman’s stand didn’t use too much of its energy.

“My feelings are mutual, Kali. And it seems that our stands’ reactions reveal another interesting aspect…” DIO continued before Akali interrupted him.

“Soulmates…We are soulmates” the realization hit her as she reflected on her stand’s changes as well as DIO’s words “I…” she didn’t know what to say, how to react towards the new acquired information.

“As I said, the feelings are mutual” DIO said now approaching the woman. The attackers were defeated as expected, making the two of them withdraw their stands. Feeling the lord DIO put his hand on her neck, she couldn’t help but to feel slightly nervous yet excited. DIO shared her feelings…

“Kali, do you wish to stay by my side, not as a servant…” he chuckled tracing soft patterns on her neck, waiting for her response.

“I do, if you’ll allow me” she answered with a small smile on her exotic features. Such small beautiful moment wasn’t unnoticed by DIO, who now started to lower his head towards the woman. Even with her wearing high heels, the difference in the height was still present. Kali could feel her cheeks redden slightly, meeting DIO’s strong gaze as she could feel new feelings overtake her. Those feelings that had built with time, with each interaction, small remark and comfortable silence. Those feelings that one could finally reveal not being afraid of rejection.

In the world of soulmates and stand users, the universe isn’t too kind on letting the both aspects meet. Yet there is always a small chance, a small glint of hope in one’s soul longing to find its soulmate. And today, two more were allowed such luxury. Two souls, connected at last.

#Dio brando #Dio brando x oc #Oc #My gift #Actually quite happy of it #But still nervous #Dio x oc

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ike-sol · 5 years

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n o a h

I absolutely love family tropes, so here’s a little fic about Jonah meeting the child he’s going to adopt. Mention of Jonah x OC, but the central theme is about exploring Jonah’s character, especially as a father. I haven’t posted OC profiles yet, but I hope you enjoy! Happens 8 years after the war.

---

“From the top, now- one, two, three, four-!”

The children began to sing on Jonah’s cue. He kept beat with a baton, leading in the sopranos six measures after the altos. They weren’t necessarily the best, but they sang with so much soul that even Jonah felt like tearing up. Those could have been tears of pride, though - they’ve come a long way since he first started giving singing lessons at the orphanage.

The children too young to join the choir, and those who simply had no interest whatsoever, gathered around anyway, drawn in by the sound of music. It was good for the choir, too, to practice singing before an audience, even if the audience were their friends. It would prepare them for the performance on the upcoming holiday - the 8th anniversary of Cradle’s peace.

He glanced at the children, some old enough to remember the warring days, some who had been born years after the peace treaty. A promise for the future. He looked over each face while keeping beat, listening to their notes, and, for half a moment, someone in the ‘audience’ caught his eye - Luka?

No.

Of course not.

His younger brother was an impressive man, now, too, with a family of his own. And yet, there was something about that little boy standing off to the side, something that made him double-take. Jonah hadn’t seen him before. He looked to be about 3, with a mess of black hair, and light blue eyes that betrayed a deep haunting. It made Jonah’s soul ache. He knew the look the boy carried in his eyes. The one that, if god was real, should never exist in someone so young.

He’d looked upon it in Luka’s eyes when they were young, when their parents’ negligence drove them to find comfort in one another, to try to make sense of the world they were so irresponsibly cast into. Sometimes, in the mirror, he caught it staring right back at him.

It was a look he hoped to never see in his own children. Spilled tears over broken toys and stolen sweets (though both very real problems to Nellie and Gil) were depthless, inconsequential, in comparison to that profound sadness the boy held. Loneliness. Isolation.

The song came to an end, and Jonah offered them all a huge grin, “Great job! It’s getting better and better. We’ll be ready in time for the performance.” With practice over for the day, the children began to disperse, and the Queen was about to go back to red territory, but first--

“Hey there.” Jonah was kneeling down by the boy before he even fully realised what he was doing. “What’s your name?”

The boy had been staring at him (nothing new for the Queen of Hearts), and must’ve been taken by surprise, pulled out of his monologue of thoughts. He blushed and cuddled closer into the teddy bear he was holding as if to hide his face, as if to disappear into his shyness. But he didn’t walk away.

Jonah recognised the bear. It was one of the gifts he’d bought for the orphanage last Christmas. It came from the best toy shop in red territory (he’d be damned if his donations weren’t top tier!), where each animal was specifically tailored with such detail and dedication that no two were alike. Like snowflakes. He’d bought both his children stuffed animals of their own, along with dozens of other toys, from the very same shop. The teddy bear was light brown, soft and fluffy, though its fur was already a little matted from constant cuddling. The little button-up shirt it wore was frayed. One button hung loosely, while two others were already long lost. Once white, it was now a soft grey.

But its eyes held the same sort of warmth as loved toys do, worn down with affection, but with thousands of stories to tell - each full of adventure. It was as well-loved as Nellie’s sheep, as Gil’s cat.

“What’s your teddy’s name?” He asked with a gentle smile.

“...Fluffy.” The boy murmured, peeking over the top of his head to - for a moment - look Jonah straight in the eye. He thought he saw a shadow of a smile grace his lips - but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. He wanted to see the boy smile, with the same unrestrained glee that all children deserve.

“And what’s Fluffy’s favourite color?”

“Purple.”

“Oh yeah? He has good taste.”

He’d be patient. It was a skill Jonah was forced to learn over the 5 years of parenthood he’d had so far. Soothing Nellie’s cry over her scrapes and bruises, coaxing Gil to eat his vegetables, listening to them both sing the same song over and over and over again-- Rose had always had more patience than he. But he’d learned, and he wasn’t the same testy man he’d been years ago.

But he was as stubborn as ever. He’d set his mind on getting this boy to open up to him. To show him a genuine smile. To make him feel safe.

~*~

The next time Jonah visited, he found himself looking for the little boy from last time immediately. He usually came to the orphanage once a month or so, when he had a day off while Rosie worked (or they came together, but that was rarer now - they’d rather spend the day with their family). But Jonah couldn’t help himself - he was back here a week after his last visit.

He didn’t see the child, though. The thought crossed him that, with his shyness, the boy usually stayed away from visitors, and that’s why he hadn’t seen him before. But he pushed those thoughts aside for now, and took to another task - reading. The older kids were off at school, but those not quite old enough for it, but old enough to want to start reading, were delighted to have a buddy. He sat down by a boy, just about Nellie’s age, and opened the picture book he’d brought with him.

For a moment, a wave of bitterness overcame him - he should be home with his own kids right now, flipping through picture books on his lap. But he had a responsibility here, too. These kids deserved just as much love as any others. He’d shower his children in adoration the moment he came back, until the moment they drifted off to sleep. Besides - they were surely off playing with their friends at this time.

“Dog!” The boy interrupted Jonah, pointing to the word in big letters. He was just learning to read short, easy words, and the pride Jonah felt must have rivaled his own.

“Very good!” He praised, and the boy beamed, even as they continued to read it out loud.

He’d noticed then, quiet footsteps, a muffled gasp. From the corner of his eye, Jonah recognised the boy he’d been looking for, carefully hidden behind one of the bookshelves. Gilbert, too, was naturally shy, hiding behind his mother’s skirts and, when his father picked him up, hiding his face against his chest, so Jonah knew not to frighten this little boy away. Though Gil never shied away from his own parents, he knew what to do in theory. He watched him watching him for a moment, but didn’t move his head at all, and quietly savoured the feeling of the boy’s growing confidence.

It was only when the picture book was finished and the boy scampered away to play with his friends that Jonah turned and acknowledge the dark haired boy.

A smile. “How’s Fluffy doing?”

Slowly, hesitantly, the boy stepped towards Jonah, still clutching the same brown teddy tightly to his chest. “...Good.��

Single word answers, Jonah noted. But even so, he’d count this as a success. “I have a gift for Fluffy.”

He watched the boy’s eyes widen at the irrefusable offer of a gift, and then - just for a moment - curiosity seemed to overpower the hesitance he held.

“What is it?” He took a step closer, and another, and another.

“Here,” Jonah held out his hand with a small cloth pouch, “Will you open it for him?”

He nodded and took it from him with his little hand, and, shifting the teddy to fit snugly between his arm and chest, pulled on the ribbon of the pouch. He fished out a little shirt, made for a teddy bear. It was white cotton, edges embroidered in rich purple, with buttons and a bowtie to match. The boy’s eyes widened, and after a moment he held it out to Jonah, whose heart fell - was he giving it back? did he not like it? - until he realised he was holding out his teddy as well.

“Can you put it on?” He asked shyly, and a moment later, as if remembering himself, added - “Please.”

“Of course.” Jonah’s expression softened into a smile, and he took both items from the child. He took off the old shirt, which was practically falling apart in his hands, and expertly dressed the teddy again, deft fingers buttoning it up and tying a neat bow beneath his collar.

And as the boy took Fluffy back into his arms, he turned to Jonah and nearly blinded him with the brilliant smile he wore. “Thank you, mister.”

It was as bright a smile as his brother’s, as his wife’s, as his daughter’s and son’s. Its warmth seemed to melt away, if only a little bit, the cold exterior on the boy. A ray of sunshine tugging him out of his shyness. For a moment, Jonah was rendered speechless. It was almost jarring to see this joyful expression, from however simple means, on a face that had been so desolate before. This was exactly the sort of expression a child should be wearing, he thought. And so, he’d try again--

“What’s your name?”

“Noah.”

“Noah,” he repeated. A good name. It fit him. “Would you like to read with me?”

~*~

“Rosie,” Jonah began one day, about two weeks later, as they were getting ready for bed. Nellie and Gil were long asleep in their own rooms, exhausted from a full day of playing and following Laurel around like puppies. “Do you still want to adopt?”

She was braiding her hair for the night, and stopped halfway to turn to glance at her husband. Her expression - borderline dangerous, as if tensing in anticipation to fight him. Okay, maybe he should have worded that a bit differently - he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“I do.”

They talked about it since before they were married. Rosemary had insisted from the very beginning that she had the intention to adopt at least once, and if he didn’t agree - they just wouldn’t work out. She’d been very clear on that. It hadn’t been the easiest conversation, way back then.

Jonah had told her about how he and his brother were bullied mercilessly, just for being pretty; he couldn’t imagine what torments a child adopted into the Clemence family would have to face. He didn’t want to put anyone through that, ever. Not if he could prevent it. But no matter how protective, no matter how vigilant, he knew that they as parents would only be able to do so much. It would be unfair to the child, to take them in, knowing what difficulties awaited.

But Rosie had insisted, and said that she’d have been willing to go through that, so why not try? A loving family, no matter the other difficulties, was better than no family. And so they compromised. They would adopt. But not as their first child, for the added burden of Queen (and all the bureaucracy surrounding it) would be far too much for anyone to handle, at least in this generation. But an adoption nonetheless.

And then she’d gotten pregnant, with Nellie, half a year after their wedding. Gilbert came two years after her. She was almost six, and he just turned four. And - they were expecting another child now. Rosie was just barely beginning to show, now in her third month.

Careful to say the right words this time, Jonah walked over to his wife, leaning down to press a kiss against her cheek. “In that case, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

#ikemen revolution #jonah clemence #ikerev jonah #ikerev #oc #i love family fluff #jonahs gonna be such a great dad #proud #spoil his kids #shower them in love every single day #i'll set up proper oc profiles for my babies soon i promise #if anyone's interested at all lol

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nomnomsik · 5 years

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Triptych | Chapter 1

Summary: Ryo really didn’t expect anything to change from high school during your first year of college. Yet, other people apparently seemed to have different plans. From creepy letters to gifts, and finally gifts to his own home, it isn’t until his friends come in to help him that everything stops…only temporarily. However, Ryo’s trust in the three of his friends is tested, the lingering question of which one is at fault… if it’s even only one of them.

Pairing: Rapline (Primarily Yoongi) x Male OC

Genre: Slow-burn, College AU, Mystery, Love Triangle

Word Count: 6.4K

A/N: Here’s the long-awaited male!OC fic with rapline! It’s quite long and I’m not sure how everyone will respond to it, but please let me know any feedback you have! Enjoy~ Thank you to @kimseokmomjins for the helpful ideas as well. I hope you like it bb :(

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, heavy stalking, anxiety/suspense, slight sexual content, lots of profanity, non-con kissing, physical violence, car crash, possessive tendencies, and panic attacks. Please read with caution.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Ryo! Wait for me-”

It was like this every day, the boy always following the other boy wherever he went, completely fixated on his dear friend.

“I’ll see you in the cafeteria in like- not even three minutes though.”

It was Namjoon who halted in his tracks, bag strapped to his back as he hesitantly gave a small nod, turning the other way and taking his leave. Ryo sighed, ruffling his black hair as he quickly unlocked the lock of his locker, snapping it open and unhooking it off. He brought the palm of his hand to the metal door that secured it shut, holding onto it as he slowly pulled it open. His body tensed, eyes sharp as he prepared himself for the downpour when he turned it all the way, a regular occurrence that never ceased to end.

Dozens of cards fell out, spilling onto the floor, their crisp red envelopes sending its greetings to him. Ryo quickly bent down, sweeping them up and shoving them into his bag, yanking the zipper closed. He then quickly shifted his attention to the other items in his locker, a box, neatly wrapped in a white paper, a bow and flower, adorned on top. The ribbon was ripped off as he opened the box, only for a sneer to escape his lips.

Cartier, now Omega? What’s next? A Rolex?

He slid the lid back on, throwing it into his bag with all the other items before slamming the locker door shut. Was this the fifth time? Sixth? He quickly hooked the lock back on, not that it even mattered, ready to run to the cafeteria in hopes to avoid being watched. There was an eerie feeling in his gut, a pair of eyes always watching him. By this point, he had completely lost track of how many times gifts he had received and how many locks he had gone through.

Why me?

When he used to have the guts to read the letters, they started off friendly and suffocatingly full of affection. He wanted to believe it was all a prank, but from the beginning, he knew these were serious. The fact that they were handwritten, small hearts littered all over the cover in bright and overly saturated colors, not only made him uncomfortable but also sent terrifying thoughts into his mind. How could someone be so dedicated in writing all of these? Especially to someone like him? Someone that he didn’t even know?

What would ignoring them do if the cards continued to come in?

His concerns were proven right. As Ryo tried to ignore the gifts, often throwing them out, the letters got more intense, more violent. Ryo often wondered why he couldn’t help himself, finding his fingertips picking up the delicate paper and slowly taking in every word. It was terrifying, but exhilarating at the same time. He wanted to know what the other person had to say.

Maybe it was the fact that the whole thing was surrounded in mystery, the idea of “why” constantly lingering and eating away at his mind. Or maybe he secretly liked how it felt to be loved. To feel important and a necessity in another person's life.

And thus, that’s how he found himself opening letter after letter until he realized how threatening they had gotten. He often found a disgusting feeling in his stomach whenever he seemed excited at the thought of what was inside, but whenever he opened one, he was more terrified than the next. He didn’t want this anymore.

Ryo couldn’t function without oftenly looking over his shoulder and envisioning things or someone that wasn’t even there. Every touch on his shoulder or arm frightened him, often zipping around with wide eyes. From that point on, he never opened another one no matter how much he wanted to. He forced himself not to, a large pile accumulating in the trash bin of his room.

Why are you ignoring me?

Why are you not wearing the gifts I got for you?

Why…? Do you not love me? But...I love you.

Ryo halted in his tracks, almost gagging in the middle of the hallway as the memory popped in his mind. No matter how many locks he swapped and replaced, the gifts kept coming. Chills soared through his body every second of the day as if the blank white walls were staring at him and Ryo couldn’t help but glance over, always conscious of his surroundings.

But what was the worst part?

There was no one he could tell this to, not even his friends, not even his family.

Why not?

Would they believe him?

Of course, they would. That’s what friends do.

But, can I trust them?

…

Why are you doubting them? Why are you asking that question in the first place? Do you… not trust… them?

Perhaps, do you think that one of them...?

Ryo frustratingly pulled at his hair, resuming his quick steps which only carried him into a large conglomerate of people. He sighed deeply, the creepy feeling crawling up in his arms, but he shook his head, steadying his stomach. He needed to ignore this dark feeling and hope and pray things wouldn’t get worse… Even though he knew that was highly unlikely.

While he had an itch to find the culprit, confronting that person seemed terrifying as well. To find out the person who sent him all these messed up and disgusting letters only made him want to throw up, his face turning white. What would he even be able to do? What would he even be able to say?

“Hyung!” Namjoon called from his spot at the table, his two other friends sitting next to him as they looked up, each giving their own greetings. Hoseok smiled brightly, a full smile, eyes closed and hand in the air as he waved enthusiastically. Yoongi looked the other way, giving a brief wave and resuming back to his previous activity on his phone. His mint green hair was a new addition to his looks and Ryo happened to like it more than he should have. Ryo gave them a lopsided grin, taking a seat next to Yoongi who had shifted away from the edge of the bench, giving him space to sit on the end.

With the three of his best friends, Ryo’s worries seemed to dissipate into the air, as if they no longer existed. Their presence alone seemed to reassure him that even if something were to happen, he had them and without a doubt, he knew they would always be there when he needed them. But, telling them was the most difficult part. What could they possibly do?

Ryo shifted away from his dark thoughts as he decided to join the small ongoing conversation. Their cold exteriors would melt when they were brought together, large smiles and smirks displayed as they chatted and ranted about the latest feuds of the day, Yoongi taking up most of the latter category.

“Ryo, are you not going to the showcase tonight?” Yoongi had asked, their conversation seeming to have run dry.

Ryo nodded, looking the other way as if that helped to hide the reason behind it.

“Why not?” Yoongi questioned, trying to penetrate through Ryo’s protective barriers. It was a simple question, but all Ryo could do was shrug, pretending like he didn’t care about the whole thing, teeth chewing on his straw as he chewed and snapped it in half.

“You always went there though.” Yoongi persuaded, visibly frowning, his eyes starting to point sharp daggers at the younger.

“Dude, I don’t know. I’m just tired I guess… and I don’t wanna go. I could go shopping or something for clothes or sneakers...”

Yoongi dropped the topic, huffing and muttering ‘bullshit’ under his breath for all to hear. He stood up, throwing his can into the trash, missing as he left it roll onto the floor, promptly taking his leave as the other three boys remained in their seats, legs sprawled out as they gave him a dismissing wave.

“Hyung, are you really not going?” Hoseok asked, cocking his head to the side that Ryo would have found annoying, but he bit his lip instead, nodding.

“Yeah… I mean, if you guys really want me to go, I’ll go. Just tired…”

“Hyung, you should go. I bet it’ll make you feel better than staying home all night.” Namjoon smiled, only for Ryo to nod again, his face and eyes dull as he zoned out to everything around him.

But, it was when Ryo returned home, he decided to go to the weekly showcases at the campus. He locked the front door as he stepped inside, kicking the dozens of letters that sprawled across the entrance of his home aside.

He threw his bag onto the floor of the living room, spilling the contents of letters out as Ryo harshly fell onto the sofa, soft cushions supporting his fall. It had only been a couple of minutes, his breathing steadying as his body submerged further into the couch as if he was being sucked into it. A loud knock on the front of his door startled him, his body jumping up from the couch as his brain shot several scenarios in his head.

Ryo tiptoed around the living room, skipping up the stairs with quiet steps as he rushed to his room, trying to look out his window to catch a glimpse of the person outside his door. All he noticed was the mailman walk across the lawn and back into his small white truck, before zooming off.

With quick steps, Ryo snapped open the door, throwing the cardboard box into his home and slamming the door, securely locking each slot before turning back to the mess. He tore open the box, eyes widening as he grabbed the AF1’s that sat in the Nike shoe box. There was another box that had been sitting underneath the first, Ryo’s hands ripping it open as well to find another pair, in a different color with red and black detailing.

Ryo’s feet quickly slid into the crisp new shoes, fitting in snuggly as he looked frighteningly down at the pair of sneakers.

Why did they fit him perfectly?

He never bought these. Were they another gift to him? He dug through the box, only to find a typed out letter that read:

I thought of you while I was shopping and guessed you might like these! I bet you'd look really cool in them. Let me know what you think. If you like them, wear them often, and if you don't that's alright too! I'll always try and do better for you, RYO.

He shuddered, tossing the card away from him as he threw the sneakers off his feet. It felt like something was crawling on his skin, something watching him from inside the box, or inside the shoe, or insi-

Ryu covered his head, cradling his body to himself as he rocked back and forth. He needed a distraction. Anything. He threw the shoes off at the wall, slipping into his own.

His solution? Dragging himself to the showcase at the campus. He found himself sitting down in his car, pulling in and parking by the school during the evening, the warm sky blazing with colors of orange. As the sun lowered further and further down, Ryo entered the main lobby filled with people conversing, the large waves of voices bringing a warm comfort of community. It was then Ryo dug into his pockets, pulling out his phone as he texted into his group chat, asking where the boys were.

While people started filling the auditorium, Ryo waited by the entrance doors, noticing how his phone had remained silent. His messages weren’t read and so he waited, and waited, until he cursed at himself, realizing that they weren’t going to come in the first place. In fact, they never said they were going to come. They said he should go… Ryo turned to look back at the filled out auditorium and it looked so unappealing.

Why did it look so dull and flat? There were no colors and everything seemed to be muted. There was no desire in him to take that step and join in like everyone else. Was it because he had come here so many times he grew out of it?

Ryo turned away, his feet sluggishly walking away from the doors and outside, the sun no longer out and the sky filled with small darkness, but not pure pitch black. Without all the people that surrounded him, he again felt that feeling that stabbed him in the gut, that made him hunched over as if he was about to vomit.

Someone had to be watching him.

Ryo bolted away from the campus and into his car, locking the door shut and closing all the windows. He started the engine, pressing on the accelerator as he drove away from the school, the dark feeling in the pit of his stomach as he tried to concentrate on the road and not how he felt.

Had it always been this dark? The sky was turning darker and darker by the minute as if an oncoming storm was approaching. Making a sharp right turn, he quickly approached the street he lived on but quickly noticed something was off.

Ryo brought his car to a stop, squinting as he saw a dark figure near the front door of his home that seemed to peer into his blacked-out windows. Ryo stepped on the gas pedal as he slowly drove past his home, the tires carrying him down the street. The dark figure looked over at the sound of the tires against the asphalt, noticing the car with its bright lights, walking with quick steps over to him and then breaking out into a full run.

Ryo jumped at how quickly the figure approached him, slamming his foot down on the gas pedal as his engine roared loudly, bringing him quickly down to the edge of the street as he looked into his rearview mirror, the figure was consistently after him, not appearing smaller and smaller as he continued further down the road.

Eyes focused on the mirror and not what was in front of him, Ryo forgot about the sharp right turn at the end of the street, slamming his foot on the breaks as he hastily turned the steering wheel, avoiding a collision into the steel fencing of the turn.

His car’s tires burned into the street, screeching and coming to a sudden halt as Ryo’s body lunged forward and back, whiplash and pain shooting through his head. His car collided with a mailbox instead, Ryo’s head hitting the back of the headrest once again as he hazily brought his hand to his seatbelt, snapping it open as he threw the car door open. Ryo stumbled out of the driver's seat, his windshield shattered and his feet losing balance as he fell onto the cold asphalt.

His vision completely blurry and his head in massive pain, Ryo looked over his shoulder from outside his car, noticing how the dark figure was still approaching and coming after him. Ryo’s wobbly legs started to run, but he quickly fell and tripped, landing back onto the asphalt, palm’s dirty and head in agony, sickness overcoming his line of thought.

Looking over his shoulder once again, the figure turned the corner, getting closer and closer as Ryo willed himself up, hands squeezing his head as he ran in the dark, screaming his lungs out to any awake stranger in their homes.

“Someone help! H-Help! Please!! Help me!! Someone is- someone! PLEASE! ANYONE!” Ryo screamed, running on the sidewalk as his blurry eyes caught the light of one of the houses at the end of the street. He beelined toward it, rushing to the door and slamming his fist on the surface as hard as he possibly could, even if his arm began to numb up.

“Please! Let me in! Please, someone!!”

It was then that the figure halted in its tracks, only taking slow steps and observing the scene. It was until the door opened, Ryo swished inside that the figure stopped, turning around while Ryo was quickly tended to, his face full of tears and body shaking.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Namjoon rushed into the police station as Ryo sat huddled in one of the seats in the lobby, the night still young. Ryo looked up to see Namjoon’s worried expression, his breathlessness, and giddy movements.

“Hyung, are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright!" Ryo shouted, covering his face between his arms as Namjoon took a seat beside him. He let out a harsh sigh only to rub the slight tears that escaped his eyes. “I thought I was about to die. Fuck...”

“Hyung…” Namjoon’s face was filled with sympathy as his hand faltered, unsure whether trying to soothe him would make the situation better or worse, or if it would hurt his pride. He wasn’t sure what to say. After all, how could he possibly imagine something so scarring as that?

"I was so fucking scared, Namjoon. I am scared! I don’t want to go back. I'm not going back! Something’s out to get me, I know it.”

Namjoon stayed silent, preferring to just listen. He understood what Ryo needed and how he wanted to be treated. Ryo was the kind of person who didn’t want solutions, he just wanted someone to listen to him, someone to vent out his feelings and not take any offense to it.

“Hyung... what if you stay at my place then?”

Ryo looked up at Namjoon, his face showing no emotion as he said those words to him. Namjoon just had a small smile on his face, his eyes crinkled, almost as if he was about to cry.

Ryo couldn’t move his mouth to say anything and only stared. Namjoon stuck his hand out, to which Ryo grabbed it, a confirmation of his offer, Namjoon helping him up from his seat. If he had someone that was with him, Ryo had no reason to feel scared anymore. The comfort of another person seemed to flood out his negative thoughts. He had a protector that would save him.

Besides, was there any reason for him to decline?

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Hyung, you can take this room,” Namjoon called from the hallway, ushering him into the small space that looked more like a closet. “It’s a guest room but since I don’t really have guests I just shoved all my junk in it… Yeah... Sorry about that…” He muttered at the end, kicking some of the boxes on the ground as he made space on the floor, dust flying everywhere as Ryo let out a harsh sneeze.

“Namjoon-ah... You really have to get better at clea-”

Another loud sneeze vibrated in the room, Ryo violently shaking his head as he brushed his nose with the back of his arm.

“Sorry hyung.” Namjoon gave a sheepish smile, picking up some of the boxes and storing them in the hallway closet as more room slowly became available to set down the folded sleeping bag.

“Thanks again, Namjoon. I appreciate it. You really saved me.” Ryo smiled, scooting his body further and further into the sleeping bag as Namjoon stood by the door, ready to turn off the lights for him. Namjoon gave him a cute nod, a proud smile forming on his face as his chest began to stick out more in confidence. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ryo,” Namjoon whispered, turning off the lights as he walked over to his bedroom, his footsteps thumping across the ground as Ryo listened to each step, the flick of the light switch and the eventual close of his door.

Ryo took a deep breath, burying himself further into the sleeping bag. It gave him a somewhat protected feeling, buried and hidden away so he couldn’t see anything besides the opening. What if he zipped himself in closed? He had giggled at the thought, shutting his eyes and waiting for sleep to take him.

....

….

…nn.

Ryo’s eyes snapped open.

What the hell was that?

What time was it?

Ryo’s head was still hidden within the sleeping bag and yet… He definitely heard something. It creaked against the wooden floors of Namjoon’s apartment, a chill zooming down his spine as he lay still, body paralyzed, eyes shut closed.

It touched him.

Fuck what was that? Fuck, fuck. What the fuck…

With his eyes sealed closed, Ryo slowly felt a feeling build up in his stomach, one of irrational confidence. It was at that moment, Ryo sprang his head and upper body out of the sleeping bag, ready to face what was there despite all the chills that covered his arms. And, there was nothing there.

It was just pure pitch darkness… and it terrified him. If he stared hard enough, he would surely hallucinate something that wasn’t there. Why did being alone frighten him so much?

Ryo quickly slid his entire body out of the bag, opening his door and turning the corner as he tried to ignore the creepily long and dark corridor, slipping into Namjoon’s room as he tried to quietly turn the knob open. If he was too loud, he would surely wake something, or someone up, even if he didn’t know what.

With his first step in Namjoon’s room, the floors creaked, Namjoon stirring and waking up immediately as he groggily sat up, turning on his bedside lamp, only to find Ryo teary-eyed and his entire body shaking. Namjoon scrambled out of bed, rushing over to the older as he gave him a reassuring hug, picking him up and setting him on the bed.

“N-namjoon…” Ryo whispered, his voice breaking as Namjoon rubbed his back in comforting motions. “Can I please sleep with you tonight? I’m so scar-”

“Shh, of course, of course, you can. Come here.”

With Namjoon’s arms around him, his body felt warm and secured, the blankets covering both of their bodies and Ryo quickly fell asleep.

"It must've been scary right?" Namjoon whispered, soothingly rubbing his back. "Don't worry. I'll be here to help you, hyung.

It was almost three in the morning and as Ryo drifted out of consciousness, Namjoon’s lips trailed over the back of his head and down his neck, only to end up with a smirk.

After that night, it became a regular occurrence, Ryo ended up finding his way to Namjoon’s room first besides his own before he went to bed. With Ryo’s hand resting on the doorknob, he immediately relaxed, often forgetting to close the door as Namjoon let him in, ushering him on the bed and the empty space he had saved next to him.

Ryo took a seat on the spot like usual, his legs submerged in the blankets as he pulled it up to his lap. Namjoon yanked him into a tight hug, Ryo’s arms were frozen and in an awkward position that made him difficult to react or even reciprocate the action.

“Ah, Namjoon, wait…”

Namjoon gave the older a small pout, only for him to laugh as Ryo’s arms finally got free, placing them over Namjoon’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure why Namjoon wanted a hug all of a sudden and it slightly confused him, his head tilting to the side, but he wasn’t complaining because it was the least he could do. His gratitude was forever with Namjoon.

What he didn’t expect was for Namjoon to lean his head in closer, bringing his lips down and kissing him. Ryo jolted in place but found himself closing his eyes, his body getting pushed back further and further until his head hit the back of the bed frame, Namjoon’s legs pressing closer and excitement rushing through his body as he got hit with a pump of adrenaline. Ryo couldn’t bring himself to push Namjoon away or even deny him… He somewhat… liked it too. Namjoon’s lips were so soft and plump and Namjoon’s fingers so tenderly touched the back of his head like he was as fragile as glass, carefully brushing through his hair.

When Ryo finally opened his eyes to take a peak, he was supposed to notice how ethereal Namjoon looked, concentrated on kissing the younger, but instead, from his peripheral vision, he saw something dark, a black figure that seemed to stare at the two of them. Ryo let out a panicked yell, pushing Namjoon off as he turned the other way, hands coming up over his head as tears started to build up in his eyes again.

“Hyung? Hyung?! What’s wrong?” Namjoon shouted worriedly, shaking his body as he tried to catch a glimpse of the older’s face, but Ryo continued to bury his head into the pillows, body uncontrollably shaking. Ryo lifted his arm, pointing behind him.

“I-I saw something there… By the door… In the hallway. It was l-looking at us. N-namjoon…”

Namjoon looked over, seeing nothing but nevertheless, getting up from the bed and closing the door and making sure it was tightly shut. He returned back, sighing internally at the fact that Ryo was in a panic-stricken state, losing his chance for sexual development between the two. Instead, he gave a gentle smile, calling it quits for today and reassuring the older that everything would be fine. Why wouldn’t it be when he was there to protect him just in case?

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Hyung… Hyung…” Namjoon panted, the older leaning on his chest as his large arms wrapped around Ryo. “Hyung, I love you so so so much.” He planted a kiss on the older’s temple as their bare skin grazed each other, Ryo’s face a shade of deep red. “Say it back… Hyung, please.”

“I-I love you too, Namjoon…” Ryo whimpered out, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as sweat rolled down his skin, cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, hyung.” Namjoon smiled, closing his eyes as Ryo yelped, the younger’s hands resting on his hips as he pushed him further and further into himself. “I knew you were just being shy about it all along with hyung. I knew you loved me the moment when we became ‘friends.’ But hyung, we’re so much more than that. We’re lovers, right hyung?”

“R-right.”

It was those damn birds that awoke Namjoon from his slumber and pleasant dream, vision blurry but recognizing the figure of Ryo who was deep asleep, blankets curled around his small body as he breathed with ease. Namjoon couldn’t help but break into a smile, fingertips toying around with the sleeping boy’s hair, feeling the texture of the soft strands that covered his eyes.

“Hyung, wake up,” Namjoon whispered, his breath fanning over Ryo’s ears, the boy squirming and groaning, burying his head under the blankets. A laugh escaped Namjoon’s lips as he tugged on the blankets, only to find resistance as Ryo pulled back. “C’mon hyung, you can’t stay in there forever.”

“Just try to test me Namjoon-ah,” Ryo mumbled, his head poking out under the covers as he tried his best to muster up an intimidating expression, only to quickly fall back asleep. “I’ll fight… you…” Ryo mumbled incoherently, drifting back asleep.

The next few days were the same, the two of them walking back home together as Ryo noticed the lack of letters in his locker. He was bubbling inside with happiness, positive thoughts in his mind telling him he had won.

“Hyung, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Cause I don’t,” Ryo replied bluntly, stirring the pan as Namjoon peered from the side. “I just know how to read instructions.”

The pair usually remained in silence as they ate or moved around the house, only vocalizing if they needed anything from the other. Ryo was the one who mostly initiated their conversations, often asking for specific items he could not find that Namjoon had stashed around the house. It would be items such as a toothbrush, extra toilet paper, or sometimes just tissues.

“Hyung, I’m gonna head for a shower,” Namjoon called from the other end of the hallway as Ryo slouched on the sofa.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I should too...” he mumbled to himself, standing up from his spot and walking to the extra bathroom near his room.

When Ryo stepped out of the shower, his fringe wet as he dried himself off, he stared at his reflection in the mirror only to look away. Ryo slipped on his clothes before opening the door to the hallway, his wet feet leaving footprints on the floor. He tossed his soaking wet towel into the hamper, scratching his head and looking for another one to further dry his hair. Returning back to the hallway, Ryo opened one of the closets, finding only a vacuum cleaner and a broom, with unopened bundles of toilet paper and paper towels.

He slowly creaked the door to Namjoon’s room, peering around at the neatly stacked books on his desk and folded blankets that draped his bed. He could hear the water pouring onto the walls and tile floors in the bathroom, the sound of plastic and the rustling of the shower curtains. Ryo took a step into his room, a dark feeling overcoming his body as he gulped harshly as if he shouldn’t be in his room, especially without Namjoon’s permission. Ryo shook his head, shaking the feeling off as he approached Namjoon’s closets, snapping one open, only to find all his regular t-shirts and pants. No towels.

Ryo sulked, closing the closet door and tiptoeing out, quietly shutting the entrance to the room and walking back to his small guest room with his hair still wet. Even though the room was still filled with Namjoon’s discarded junk, Ryo tiptoed through the mountain of things, knocking some of the plastic ornaments down onto the floor. He was a couple of feet away from the closet door that was blocked with wooden boxes, but he still pulled on the handle, huffing as it remained unbudged.

Ryo let out a harsh kick, shoving the boxes out his way as a loud sound echoed in his room, finally having a strong grip on the door handle. He kept tugging on the knob, his feet digging into the floor as he grit his teeth, the friction finally paying off as the closet door swung open, Ryo landing on his butt.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was mortified. All over the floor lay red envelopes, wrapping papers of various colors, and other decorations for presents. What made his heartbeat further was the easily identifiable boxes that sat on the shelves. Not towels, but watches.

Cartier, Omega, Rolex, and Hublot?

His breathing rapidly increased as his palms sweatily rubbed against the floor, scrambling up and shutting the door, not bothering to clean the mess up on the floor. He grabbed his bag, shoving his valuable items in and rushing down the hall and near the door, sliding on his sneakers as fast as possible.

Oh my god, oh my god.

“Hyung? Hyung? Are you there?” Namjoon called from his room, walking out and into the hallway with his nighttime t-shirt and shorts on, hair wet and eyes wide as he stared at Ryo with his backpack sliding down his arm and his hands messily slipping on his shoes. “Hyung…? Where are you... going?”

“I’m just heading… out for a bit.” Ryo quickly lied, turning to the door as his fingers halted in the air, staring at the lock system on Namjoon’s door and flipping switches back and forth, getting one out of the three free.

“This… late at night, hyung? And… why do you have your bag with you? You just showered...”

…

“Hyung, why are you lying to me, huh?”

Namjoon’s voice came out threatening, rage laced underneath his words as Ryo quickly whipped around, not expecting Namjoon to have already made large strides toward him.

The next thing Ryo knew, he crashed into the door, back slamming against the wood as he groaned, only to find Namjoon hovering above, his eyes wide. “Hyung…” His voice wavered, bringing his head down to the crook of Ryo’s neck. “Hyung… why are you leaving me? I told you I love you… I love you…”

“Namjoon, get off of me.” Ryo groaned, pushing at the other’s chest, but he didn’t budge, grip intense on his wrists. “It was you this whole time?” He seethed, only for Namjoon to chuckle like it was fun to finally get caught.

“Oh c’mon hyung. Why did it take you that long? I’ve been waiting since forever…” His breath trailed over Ryo’s skin, the older hunching over and squirming, still trying to break his way through of Namjoon’s hands. “I’m always by your locker everyday… I thought it was so obvious… Do you really think I can’t watch you put in your combination every day? Do you really think I’m that dumb?”

“You’re fucking crazy, Namjoon. That’s what you are.” Ryo seethed, trying to force his way out with a sudden burst of strength, only to get slammed back down.

“Hyung… don’t say that.” Namjoon sulked, his eyes looking down on him. “You know that’s not true. What you meant is I’m smart. That’s why I’m in the same classes as you, hyung.”

“I’m not even supposed to be here, remember? I’m in college now with you. I came here a year early because of you. Why do you think Hoseok got in? It’s because of me, hyung.”

“You and Hoseok did this?” Ryo’s arms lost its strength as his face peered up at Hoseok’s name, his body shaking at another possible betrayal that was quickly shot down.

“No, he doesn’t deserve any credit for this, hyung. This was all me. He just didn’t want to be left behind while the two of us came here to join Yoongi-hyung.”

“Hoseok’s pretty smart too.” Ryo retorted, hitting a nerve in Namjoon’s body as his jaw clenched, his hold tightening.

“Hyung, I don’t think you should piss me off.”

“What? Are you jealous?” Ryo scoffed, trying to steady his voice as he provoked the younger, Namjoon’s face to darkening. “We all know Hoseok is the most friendly, warm, and loving guy out of our entir-”

Namjoon crashed his lips onto Ryo’s in an effort for him to just, shut up, his hand coming up to cup his face. Ryo used that opportunity, recoiling his leg and landing a harsh kick on Namjoon’s knee, a yelp escaping his lips as Ryo kicked him again, this time in the shin, Namjoon’s body falling hard onto the ground. As Namjoon cradled his knee in pain, Ryo quickly latched the last two locks, turning the lock and bursting through.

Ryo sprinted out of the door, running down the long hallway as fast as he could, his hair blowing behind him. He hugged the wall as he made the right that led to the set of elevators, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. All the way at the end of the hallway, the elevator was already open, a couple walking in as Ryo continued to run, hearing Namjoon’s rapid footsteps behind him, like a predator chasing down his prey.

“Hold the door!” Ryo yelled as loud as he could to catch the couple's attention. “HOLD THE DOOR!” He screamed and repeated, the couple dumbfoundedly turning around to stare at Ryo with Namjoon quickly behind him. “FUCKING- DON’T LET IT CLOSE. PLEASE! PLEASE!!” Ryo begged, the doors to the elevator closing right before his eyes.

“NO!” Ryo screamed, desperately lunging out his arm into the elevator doors, the sensors picking him up as they snapped open, slipping his body through and maneuvering to the control panel, slamming his fingers onto the closed-door button multiple times, watching as Namjoon’s figure disappeared with the slam.

Ryo finally let out a deep breath of relief, giving the couple an awkward smile as he brushed his hair out of his eyes, hands coming up to his hips as he hunched over, exhausted. He knew Namjoon was rushing down the staircase, ready to intercept him on the lobby floor. Ryo bit his finger, contemplating stopping on the fifth floor, waiting for a couple of minutes as Namjoon would only end up in the lobby alone. But it was too much of a risk. Ryo could accidentally meet Namjoon in the staircase as he went down, or when he decided to go back up to a certain floor and to make matters worse, he wouldn’t be able to know if Namjoon was taking the elevator or not. He was too damn smart and unpredictable, that Ryo didn’t take the chance, watching as he finally reached the lobby floor.

He stepped out of the elevator with the couple, walking over to entrance doors as rain poured down from the night sky, a small curse leaving his lips. It was then that Namjoon emerged from the stairwell, his breathing rough as he spotted Ryo looking up at the rain, back turned to him.

“Hyung!”

Ryo zipped around, only for Namjoon to grab him roughly, dragging and pulling him around as Ryo physically fought back.

"Don't leave me hyung. You can't. Not after everything I've done for you. You can't … you can't!!"

"Namjoon let go." Ryo gritted, yanking his arm away as the man standing behind the desk in the main lobby rushed over.

“Excuse me, what’s going on here?”

“I was trying to leave. But this guy… He’s trying to keep me against my will. LET GO, NAMJOON.”

“Hyung!”

...

“Hyung...?”

Their heads turned over to the voice that came in the other direction, Hoseok standing outside the apartment complex with an umbrella under his head as he made eye contact with Ryo. Namjoon’s grip lost its strength as Ryo snapped free, only to stand by Hoseok, huddling himself under the protection of the umbrella.

"Sir, I think it'd be best to just return to your room." The lobbyist spoke, patting namjoon on the shoulder.

"But I-" Namjoon started only to get cut off as Ryo nudged Hoseok in the other direction. "Hoseok, what are you even doing here?"

Namjoon shot daggers at him, only to receive a shrug at his question.

"C'mon, I'm guessing you were heading out of here?" Hoseok directed his attention to Ryo, Namjoons anger burning inside of him as Hoseok paid him no mind.

Ryo gave a nod of confirmation, pulling Hoseok along and away from the doors. But before he was gone from sight, he just shot Namjoon a smirk, his tongue sticking out from his mouth. Namjoon could only watch as he clenched his fists, swiftly turning the other way and back to his room, a destructive aftermath burning every inch of his apartment.

#yandere bts #yandere namjoon #yandere yoongi #yandere hoseok #yandere rapline #bts yoongi #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #hoseok x oc #yoongi x oc #namjoon x oc #bts fanfiction #bts thriller #bts series

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