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ffion451 · 8 months

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Love Me Again | a kth oneshot (m)

Summary: Should a promise get in the way of the only love you’ve ever truly known?

Pairing: Taehyung x fem!reader | Also featuring: PJM, KNJ, JHS, MYG | Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below)

Warnings: 🔞 SMUT (m/f inc.unprotected sex) lots of swearing/cursing, minor reference to serious illness |Rating: M ⚠️🔞 Adults only - minors should steer clear of the whole thing🔞⚠️ (all mature content under the cut)

Word count: 14.5K

Note: 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐-𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 ʟᴀʏᴏ(ꪜ)ᴇʀ 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚜, 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 💛

Unlike the balmy heat of high summer nights, the dying days of summer carry cool breezes through the darkness. The chill that snakes through Taehyung’s room kisses the sweat on his skin, causing him to shudder.

You laugh, a low chuckle, as the sensation moves through your body, your hair brushing his face as he kisses your throat.

“Taehyung,” you moan, throwing back your head as you sit in his lap, riding him with agonising slowness as he clings to you desperately, his teeth teasing your nipple. He tries to buck up into you, needing to come.

“Behave,” you warn, pushing him onto his back so you can ride him faster, clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moans, his heart swelling at your broad smile of satisfaction, “I love you so fucking much…”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

The next morning, his alarm wakes him insistently. He stretches his arm out, but he doesn’t need the coolness of the sheets to tell him he’s alone. He drags his sleep-heavy body from his empty bed, stumbling to his shower in the suffocating silence of his apartment.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Mist rises in hazy, shimmering layers, diffusing into the early morning blue. The dew lifted gently from the manicured and too-green fairway by the insistent morning sun. Hyejin shields her eyes from the glare as she looks across the green. Her boyfriend’s friends are scattered about, swinging their clubs absent-mindedly as they chat enthusiastically in the early morning light.

“Why are we playing golf if nearly everyone is terrible at it?” she asks her boyfriend under her breath.

Smiling, Namjoon leans in, “Because we promised Taehyung we would,” he whispers, “And we’re hoping it might lift him out of the rut he’s been in.”

As he speaks, Hyejin looks over at Taehyung, he’s gnawing at his bottom lip as watches Yoongi gamely trying to correct your terrible swing.

“He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself,” she says, thinking aloud. Namjoon only grunts in agreement and so she continues in a quiet, confidential tone, “Y’know, this is the first time I’ve seen those two together,” she says, gesturing between you and Taehyung.

“That’s a conversation for later,” Namjoon whispers urgently as Jimin approaches, suspicion written over his face.

Hyejin nods, changing the subject in time for Jimin’s arrival, knowing how protective he is of Taehyung. Nonetheless, as the group work their way around the golf course, the gulf between you and Taehyung becomes more and more clear to her.

That evening, curled into Namjoon on Hobi’s couch, Hyejin takes the opportunity to return to the subject just as Jimin leaves to grab snacks from the nearby convenience store.

Namjoon and Hobi both listen carefully as she asks her questions: why is it that you and Taehyung are so rarely at the same events? Why is it, when you’re both so seemingly well-suited that you’re not friends? Did you used to date? Is your history the reason for the weird energy between you? Will you not be coming to Joon’s dinner party together as she’d assumed?

Namjoon and Hobi share a look of understanding, before Hobi responds, “It’s a strange situation. They used to be really close, but no they’ve never dated. It’s hard to go into the details, but it’s all to do with Taehyung’s ex -“

Jimin, with stealthy grace, reentered the apartment some time ago and chose to listen in instead of interrupting. He likes Hyejin but the way she looked between you and Taehyung on the golf course made him worry about her possible interference in the fraught situation between the two of you. Now he can stand by no longer, entering the room, “They would never work. They’re not meant to be, and pushing that agenda would be a massive mistake. Everyone involved would get hurt,” he says firmly, glaring at all three.

Hyejin flushes with embarrassment; Hobi notices, and seeks to ease the tension, “Don’t worry, it’s already been decided that Taehyung will come to the party with my sister, her husband has a conference that takes him overseas then.”

Hyejin is silenced as the conversation moves on; she doesn’t know why but it feels like somehow the scales of sympathy in this situation are tipped in Taehyung’s favour and she doesn’t understand why. Yes, she likes Taehyung, but she likes you too and cannot understand how you could ever have done anything to annoy Taehyung or to make him not like you. She thinks of you, alone at the party, and her heart goes out to you.

Matchmaking you and Taehyung may be a bad idea, but Hyejin is a resourceful woman and her mind is already moving onto Plan B.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hyejin smiles graciously around her guests as she returns from the kitchen with another two bottles of champagne; everyone has been well fed and Namjoon’s friends sit about the apartment in comfortable groups laughing and chatting. She catches Namjoon’s eye, he’s deep in conversation with Jimin and Hobi and he throws her a glowing smile. They’ve only even together a few months but it’s quickly grown serious, the two of them looking for the same commitment and she’s feels accepted by this group of his friends, as he is by hers. That thought in mind, her eyes seek out her friend Hyungsik, but his attention is occupied. She’s pleased to see Hyungsik sitting so closely to you, in chairs opposite each other, your knee resting against his as he leans towards you to be closer, his gaze and attention rapt. She had been confident that setting the two of you up would be a success and she’s thrilled that she was right to be.

Noticing your empty glasses she approaches, “More champagne?” she asks.

Hyungsik nods but you cover the mouth of your glass, “No more for me, thanks. I have a early start on things tomorrow and I’m feeling a little bit lightheaded.”

“Are you sure that’s not just Hyungsik?” she teases.

Both of you blush sweetly. Making insincere apologies, she moves on toward a group standing at the wall. They’re all laughing about something, except Taehyung, who seems to be trying to burn a hole through the back of Hyungsik’s head.

Blocking his laser-gaze, Hyejin offers him a top up and is surprised to see him accept it and down it in one gulp. Filling his glass again, she asks him if he’s ok, and only receives a gruff reply as he excuses himself to the kitchen.

The tone of their conversation clearly caught your attention, and with a smile you excuse yourself from Hyungsik, following Taehyung to the kitchen. All eyes turn to the scene and Hyejin notices Namjoon lay a hand on Jimin’s arm to stop him following. Spying Hyungsik’s look of confusion, Hyejin takes your seat and quickly distracts him explaining the apparent bad blood between you and Taehyung as she understands it..

You enter the kitchen to be greeted by Taehyung’s back as he stares out the window pointlessly; all there is to be scene against the darkness of the night is the reflection of the room behind him. You hear him audibly sigh as he watches your reflection enter.

“Taehyung…” you begin, unsure of what to say now that your here. You followed him on instinct, years of friendship and being attuned to his feelings and moods compelling you to follow him.

He doesn’t turn, “Yeah?” he replies, the one syllable coloured with boredom.

“What’s going on?” you ask bluntly, “You and I used to be so close. I know you’ve made it clear that you don’t want that anymore… I’m really am trying to respect your feelings, but I don’t understand what I’ve done and I want to.”

He turns to face you, “We just don’t hang out as much,” he says flatly, “There’s nothing more to it than that.”

You take in his heavy-lidded disinterested gaze and downturned mouth, “Taehyung, it’s more than that. We used to do everything together and now you barely speak to me. When you look at me, like now, it’s like you can’t wait to get away from me. Did I do something wrong? If I did, please tell me. I just want to fix it - I want to be friends again.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong. We’re still friends,” is all the reply he makes, rolling his eyes slightly.

You grit your teeth as annoyance begins to build in you, and you gesture from you to him, “This here is not what I’d call friendship, Taehyung. This has been going on for nearly a year now. Ever since you broke up with Hana you’ve been like this - things have been weird since she left. You never even told me what happened with you two… If I haven’t done anything wrong then why won’t you open up to me? Please let me in, maybe I can help? I can see you’re not happy, Tae.”

He rolls his eyes more obviously this time, “I’m not unhappy,” he lies, “Look, when Hana and I broke up I had to reevaluate a lot of things and I realised I wasn’t very happy about our friendship, I was too dependent on you and so I decided to give us more space. It’s that simple.”

You frown a little and can’t help but cock your head in confusion, “I wish you’d spoken to me first - I’ve never thought that. It meant a lot to me that you trusted me and my opinion- “

“It wasn’t just that,” Taehyung interrupts, “You were too dependent on me too. Sometimes I just found it a bit suffocating. Like I said, I need space. I need to be able to breathe.”

You can’t control the tremble of your lower lip as his words hit home. Your eyes fill as Taehyung makes an awkward face and he seems to have a funny sort of spasm, like he intends to comfort you but decides that it’s better not to.

“I understand,” you say, you voice small, any irritation in you diminished, “I didn’t realise that was how things were. I wish you’d said something sooner. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says more kindly, “I think it’s better like it is now.”

Your eyes meet, his are uncomfortable, yours are pained. You make an odd kind of gesture behind you as though you’re gesturing to an invisible force beckoning you from the room; your body feels strange, and slightly out of your control, “Well, yeah,” you stutter awkwardly as the need to cry begins to overwhelm you. You feel horribly embarrassed and barely recognise the man in front of you as the Taehyung you’ve known for years, “Sorry to have bothered you - I best get back…” you say, as though speaking to a stranger. Your voice catches slightly on the last syllable as you turn from the room on numb legs, heading away from your friends and to the solitude of the bathroom instead.

Moments later, Jimin joins him in the kitchen, his face tight, as Hobi moves through the hallway in pursuit of you, concern etched over his kind face.

Hyejin watches Taehyung return to the main room long after Hobi brought you back in, he looks pale, his jaw tense. He’s quick to look away from Hobi who glares across the room at him like he could skin him alive, though Taehyung doesn’t miss the damp patch on Hobi’s shoulder and the slight smudge of mascara against the grey fabric.

Taehyung’s eyes seek you out; and he finds you chatting with with Hyungsik, the taller man towering over you. He’s unnecessarily tall, Taehyung thinks spitefully, Too tall for you. Though you’re smiling, he knows it’s false, he knows you too well not to recognise it: your weak smile doesn’t reach your noticeably puffy eyes. You seem to be agreeing to something Hyungsik’s suggesting before you and he separate; you head towards Namjoon, while Hyungsik approaches Hyejin, who is close enough to Taehyung for him to be able to hear every word.

“Hey, thanks for a lovely evening,” Hyungsik smiles, reminding her of your early start in the morning, “So we’re going to head off. I’ll take her home and make sure she’s ok, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Hyejin smiles, touching his arm, “I hope you two had a nice evening together?”

He beams in response, “We’ve only known each other a little while,” he smiles, “But I am definitely glad you introduced us. You were right, we really do get along -“

So, Hyejin set you two up, Taehyung realises, How patronising of her, you don’t need her help to find someone, especially this lanky, too-smiley guy. It’s the first time he’s felt or thought anything negative towards Hyejin, and he feels momentarily embarrassed. Both his thoughts and Hyungsik’s explanation are interrupted by your approach. You thank Hyejin, are generous in your praise for her cooking and the evening. Then, taking Hyungsik’s arm, you offer a quick goodbye to those around, skimming over Taehyung with the smallest of nods, and you leave with your new friend.

Hyejin can’t help but look at Taehyung, his face stoney and impassive, giving away no emotion. He’s a good actor, she admits, But his performance isn’t perfect… noticing his white knuckles as he strangles the stem of his glass.

Later, when everyone has left, Hobi, who has stayed to help clear up, spills everything to Hyejin. He’s seen her concern for you, her well-intentioned interference between you and Taehyung. He judges it wisest to tell her the truth that Taehyung won’t even tell you before her well-meaning but ultimately disastrous interventions make everything worse.

He explains that, as Namjoon earlier confirmed, it all began with Taehyung’s ex, Hana. Their relationship had always been volatile and before they broke up they had been having serious problems for a while, largely focused around his friendship with you and her suspicion of it. They were on the verge of breaking up when she fell ill, seriously ill.

Hobi explains the whole situation, “So you see, when she realised that she wouldn’t get better she didn’t want to stay here, but wanted to return to her family. She wanted Taehyung’s last memories of her not to be so sad, so they called it a day.”

Hyejin nods, “That’s awful, poor girl. Poor Tae….” she sympathises, “But how has that ruined his friendship?”

Hobi purses his lips, unsure if he should go on, “Well, you see, she knew that Taehyung would be her last relationship and even though it was ending, she said she wanted it to have meaning. She asked him to make her a promise, not to let the person who came between them be the ending to their story.”

Hyejin nods, “She asked him to end his friendship?”

Hobi squints a little, “Not exactly, she asked him not to get together with her.”

Hyejin frowns, “So why has he cut her out completely?”

Hobi thinks for a moment, “Taehyung and I have never had an honest conversation about this so I can only speculate, but I think Hana was on to something. Their friendship was close and even though nothing was going on, anyone with eyes could tell there were feelings there on both sides. I think when Hana asked that, Taehyung realised what his feelings were. I’m not sure if it was the promise, or guilt, or confusion, but when Hana left that’s when he started to freeze her out until they got to where they’re at now.”

“That’s so sad,” Hyejin says, shaking her head, “So that’s it? There’s no hope for them? How is Hana now?”

Hobi scratches his neck, “Nobody knows, she blocked and ghosted him when she left. The rest of us barely knew her, she never really hung out with us. I think what she asked of him was wrong, but given her situation I don’t want to judge her.”

Hyejin nods, “No, me either,” she admits, chewing her lip, “Jeez, what a mess.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

An ocean of clouds, stretching to the horizon, drifts beneath Taehyung; the plastic that was so soothingly cool minutes ago, now presses, painful and warm, against his head. Reluctantly he tears his eyes from the small frame of the world below and leans his head back into the soft cushion of his head rest, closing his eyes with a heavy breath.

“Are you ok?” Jimin asks softly beside him.

“Hmm,” Taehyung hums, “Just thinking.”

“About Hana?” Jimin prompts. Yes, thinks Taehyung, He was thinking of Hana for a moment, but then of you. When isn’t he thinking of you nowadays? When Taehyung doesn’t reply, Jimin presses him, “Will you look her up?”

Taehyung opens his eyes and rolls his head to meet Jimin’s concerned face, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know yet. I don’t even know where on Jeju she lives. I don’t think she’d want to see me, especially if she’s really ill. I wouldn’t want to upset her.”

Across the aisle and down a row or two, Hyungsik’s gentle laugh drifts back, “How do you feel about him being here this weekend?”

Taehyung shrugs, “It is what it is. Keeps her busy, I suppose.”

Jimin nods, “Makes things easier.”

Taehyung nods while his heart seems to constrict: It doesn’t make anything easier, not really, he thinks, all it is is another blow to his already bruised heart.

When the plane has landed, he’s glad to find that he doesn’t need to share a taxi to the villa that has been booked out for Hobi’s birthday with you. When the fleet of taxis arrive to nobody’s real surprise, workaholic Yoongi has already arrived and brought his dedicated assistant with him, which throws the rooming plans into disarray. Taehyung is relieved to find he keeps his single room, whilst you, ever magnanimous, agree to share the double with Yoongi’s assistant whilst Hyungsik shares the twin with Yoongi. The poor girl initially protests that she doesn’t mind sharing the twin with her boss, but you know her boyfriend won’t appreciate it, and it’s likely that Yoongi will wake her in the small hours of the morning with work ideas. Taehyung’s careful to keep his expression neutral, disguising the momentary happiness he feels at you and Hyungsik being separated.

After unpacking, you all settle into the villa. It’s been weeks since Taehyung’s seen you and he wonders how you’ll respond to him. It doesn’t take him long to find out. In the kitchen he finds you stacking the fridge, trying to be helpful he picks up the last few items on the counter top to pass to you. Sensing someone behind you, you turn and face him; he finds that the chill from the open fridge has nothing on that emanating from you.

“Thanks,” you offer tersely, taking the items from him and turning your back on him. He hovers for a moment, and without turning again you dismiss him, “I’ve got this, you can get on with whatever you were doing.”

Taehyung is surprised, you’ve never been like this with him. In fact, he’s never seen you like this with anyone, you’re always so polite, even to people you can’t stand, but now your tone of voice cuts like jagged glass. He says your name gently, persuasively, “Can’t we be civil? For Hobi’s sake?”

Finished with the fridge and out of excuses, you turn to look at him, “This is me being civil, Taehyung,” you say levelly, “We’re not friends, why should I be friendly with you?”

“Maybe I went too far that night,” he admits, “I get that you’re pissed at me, but this is for Hobi, can’t we get along?”

“Apologise.”

“Sorry?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“That’s a question, not an apology,” you state patiently, “If you want to play nicely this week then you should apologise for how rude you were to me. I’m sorry that my friendship was so hard to bear, but I know I was a good friend to you for fucking years Taehyung, despite what you might think now. And how did you repay the years where you actually valued my friendship before it became a burden to you? Did you have an honest conversation with me? No! Instead, you ghosted me like some kind of sad, clingy girlfriend and then tried to gaslight me about it. I deserved, I deserve , more respect than that.”

Taehyung watches as you take a deep breath, clearly relieved at having unburdened yourself. He knows what you’re like, knows you must have rehearsed this moment nervously, preparing to confront him. He can see the nervous energy pumping through you. He wants to tell you that he’s proud of you for standing up for yourself, but he knows you don’t want to hear that from him of all people so he’s silent for a moment, while you relax after the surge of adrenaline.

“I’m sorry,” he affirms honestly, “I behaved badly and -”

“Thank you,” you interrupt, “Let’s be civil then,” you leave without looking at him again and his heart aches. Outside the kitchen, you pass Hyungsik, who turns to follow you, winking his approval to you after being the audience for the rehearsals of your speech.

Later in the evening, Taehyung is clearing the dishes after dinner with Yoongi, and he can’t stop himself bringing you up. You and Hyungsik missed dinner, maybe Yoongi, sharing a room with your boyfriend, will have answers. Taehyung burns to know; somehow your absence is more painful than your presence.

“I dunno,” Yoongi shrugs, “They were going for a walk, maybe they decided to eat out? Maybe they just want some private time together because they can’t share a room? You know the early stages of relationships…” he suggests sensibly.

The turmoil within Taehyung is anything but sensible, “I guess,” he mutters though it feels like the words choke him.

“Hmm,” nods Yoongi. For long moments, nothing is said as they wash, dry and sort dishes. Eventually, as they finish up, Yoongi lowers his voice, “Look, Tae, if you ever want to talk about whatever has happened, you can talk to me.”

Taehyung is confused, “What do you mean?” he asks, laughing to dispel his unease.

Yoongi’s face is poker straight, “I’m not an idiot, Tae. I can tell how jealous you are of Hyungsik and I’ve suspected for a long time how you feel about her. I’m not going to say anything to anyone, but if you want to talk, you know where to find me,” with a firm clap to Taehyung’s shoulder, he leaves a stricken Taehyung in his wake.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hyejin directs her face to the cloudless sky, bathing in the warmth of the sun. Beside her, you stretch your cramped legs, “It’s taking him a long time - do you think I should help him?” you offer.

“I’ll go,” Hyungsik and Namjoon offer simultaneously, but Hyungsik is already climbing out of the back of the Jeep, “Oh wait, here he comes,” he says, sounding confused.

An ashen Hobi clambers behind the steering wheel, saying nothing.

“Where are the ice creams?” Namjoon asks, “Is everything ok?”

“We have to go back to the villa, I need to talk to Taehyung,” is all he can offer. He glances at you as he looks back over his shoulder to reverse out, offering an explanation that silences everyone, “Hana’s here.”

You feel instantly sick.

When you arrive back, Hobi disappears with Jimin into Tae’s room and a hushed, uncomfortable quiet descends over the villa until Taehyung emerges, the keys to the jeep clutched in his fist before he hares off in the direction of the town.

After long hours, when everyone else is in bed, Jimin heads out with Hobi to look for Taehyung. They’ve not been gone long when he returns, and stalks past you and Hyungsik, the two of you cuddled under a blanket on the veranda.

“Go and talk to him,” Hyungsik encourages, “I know you’re worried about him and I think he might need a friend.”

“We’re not friends,” you argue, “I doubt he wants to see me.”

“I think he needs you,” Hyungsik insists, “We wouldn’t still be on this veranda in the cold waiting for him to get back if you didn’t care,” he reasons sensibly. You take a moment to think; ever since you arrived you’ve felt on edge. It’s not just your crossed words with Taehyung previously, it’s that, after all this time, you’re still weak for him. Seeing him at the airport in his loose sleeveless tee and ripped jeans, all insouciant cool with his tousled blond hair, you found it hard to keep your eyes off him; you hate that he has that effect on you. Nonetheless, your crush to one side, and your argument, you cannot deny the years of friendship that all to you. Your love for Taehyung is settled deep within your bones, an undeniable part of yourself written into your very marrow. You can’t let him suffer alone. With a huff, you reluctantly trail Taehyung to his room.

His bedroom door is ajar, and his face is drawn and agonised as he paces aimlessly. You hover in the doorway for a moment, unsure of what to say, “Taehyung, is there anything I can do?”

He looks at you for a long moment, his eyes a tempest of warring emotions. Then, without a word he reaches for the door, catching the edge in his fingertips, and slams it in your face, the wood missing your face by mere centimetres. You yelp in shock and begin to cry instinctively, staggering backwards. Hyungsik is quick to rush to you, guiding you away and back to the veranda.

“Let’s take a walk,” he suggests gently, “Don’t cry, it’s ok… Let’s go to the beach, yeah?”

Behind his shut door, Taehyung listens as silent tears track down his cheeks.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The next day, Taehyung’s door remains locked. When lunchtime comes and goes, Jimin decides he’s had enough, grabbing the keys and heading to the ice cream parlour for himself.

He strides into the parlour, prepared for anything and there she is: Kwon Hana, the architect of Taehyung’s unhappiness. She is smiling brightly behind the counter in her neat pink uniform, her cheeks rosy, the picture of good health.

Her bright smile only falls when she recognises Jimin, “Great, now you too,” she complains, “Meet me outside, I’m on my break in 15.”

When she emerges, he’s tempted to squash the ice cream she brings him all across her white apron, but he restrains himself. He doesn’t thank her, instead intoning sarcastically, “I see you’ve had a miraculous recovery, Hana…”

With a roll of her eyes she admits everything. She’s petulant and largely unapologetic, “I’ve already had this conversation with Taehyung, Jimin,” she complains, “Yeah, it was wrong to lie, blah blah blah, but it’s done now.”

He pushes her and she capitulates, telling the whole story of her break up with Taehyung: she had known that her and Taehyung were on the rocks, she just wanted to get away, to return home to her family and so, upset and jealous, she lied. She couldn’t bear the thought that with her out of the picture, Taehyung would obviously find his way to the arms of his friend, the one he was so clearly hung up on. Spitefully, she blames you and Taehyung, arguing that you two were so obvious and made her feel terrible and jealous - was it so bad to want revenge?

Disgusted, Jimin discards his melting ice cream, shaking the drips from his hand, “You are an awful person,” he states, shocked that she could be so cruel. Shaking his head despairingly, he heads back to the villa to talk to Taehyung.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The villa is empty, a peaceful silence laying over it: everyone is at the beach or out somewhere doing something else. Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s grateful to be left alone. He lies in bed, the sheet pulled over his head as he mulls over everything that happened yesterday.

He ignores the soft knocks at his door, even when the door opens and closes gently before someone slips inside. He says nothing as the sheet is lifted and a warm body slides into the bed, spooning against his back, a hand creeping across the bare skin of his chest to rest on his heart.

Warm lips press into his shoulder, “Taehyung, everything is going to be ok,” you whisper.

He turns then, pulling you closer to him, his hungry mouth finding yours. He groans when he finds you responsive, pulling him closer. His hands yank at your clothes, desperate to feel your bare skin against his. He thrusts his thigh between yours and you grind on it, gasping with pleasure into his mouth. Smiling, he bites at your lip before a harder knock at the door pulls his attention.

“Shhh,” you whisper, giggling into his mouth, “Just ignore it, I need you, Tae…” Taehyung smiles back at you, closing his eyes and kissing you deeply.

Another insistent knock comes, then the door opens. Taehyung’s eyes fly open as the sheet is pulled from over his head, “Taehyung, wake up!” Jimin almost shouts.

Taehyung groans and rolls onto his back, careful to pull the sheet into a protective ball over his crotch, concealing his throbbing erection.

Jimin, who wasn’t born yesterday, smirks, “Oh, did I interrupt a good dream? Sorry…”

Taehyung flushes, “Don’t worry,” he mutters. He means it; the dream is not a rare one. Over the years of your friendship, he’s lost count of all the different ways you and he have fucked in his sleeping mind. The wet dreams he can handle, what destroys him though is the grief of waking: in all his dreams the two of you aren’t just fucking, you are in love, and the absence of that when he joins the conscious world is a heavy blow to his heart.

“Time to get up,” Jimin insists, “We need to talk about Hana, I’ve just come from seeing her. She told me what she told you, or so she says. Are you ok?”

“Everything’s fucked,” Taehyung sighs, sitting up and burying his head in his hands, as he recounts pretty much the same conversation Jimin had with her. Stretching uncomfortably, Taehyung admits he really needs to talk to you, but doesn’t know what to say.

“After you slammed a door in her face?” Jimin asks. When Taehyung looks confused, Jimin shrugs, “Hyungsik told me last night.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung admits, “I have to apologise for that, but that’s easier than the rest of what I have to say. Y’know, when I’d spoken to Hana, I sat in the car park processing it and couldn’t stop staring at this little furniture store down the road. Then I started crying and I couldn’t stop.”

Jimin sits on the edge of the bed and smiles sympathetically, “Was it the furniture or Hana that upset you more?”

Taehyung laughs, “Neither,” he explains before elaborating. He tells Jimin about a time that you, Yoongi and he went to a furniture store with Namjoon to help him find a new desk. Taehyung explains that it was years ago, when he was really poor and hungry in search of a job. You must have noticed his sad gaze as he watched Yoongi finish snacks in the car, or his rumbling stomach. Either way, when you all arrived, you made a big fuss about needing to use a bathroom, explaining that you were getting your period. Taehyung knew it was a lie, because you’d had it the week before, you’d watched movies all weekend together with a hot water bottle…

He goes on to explain that you insisted the convenience store opposite the furniture store didn’t look safe and asked Taehyung to come with you. Uncomfortable with the period talk, Yoongi and Namjoon decided to start browsing without you whilst Taehyung followed you. When he got into the store, you made up some excuse about needing to spend a certain amount before they’d let you use the toilet, so you’d bought him his favourite ramyeon and snacks.

“The thing was,” Taehyung says, his voice catching a little, “There were so many ways to feed me, but she chose the one that made it seem like she owed me something, as though she was repaying me for a favour. She knew I’d be embarrassed and concocted this clever plan. She always did things like that, always looked out for me…” he trails off.

Jimin smiles gently, “You guys were really good friends, I know. Maybe now that the Hana curse is lifted you can be her friend again without feeling guilty?”

Taehyung shakes his head sadly, “That’s not it,” he explains, his lower lip trembling slightly, “I was single back then, she’d just started dating some guy she worked with, but even then I knew . She did that for me, and I made sure she knew that I was grateful but I was still a coward - I should have just told her then.”

“Told her what?” Jimin asks, nonplussed.

Taehyung, fraught with emotion, doesn’t really process Jimin’s words, instead his thoughts continue to spill freely from his lips, “How do I explain myself now, though? What do I say? ‘Hey, I know you’ve got Hyungsik who you obviously are really happy with, but I love you more than life itself and thought maybe you’d chuck it all in for me even though I couldn’t ever sacrifice anything for you?’ Yeah…” he scoffs, “Can’t see her buying that…”

Jimin stares at him, mouth open.

“What?” Taehyung asks, confused.

“ What?! ” Jimin shrieks, repeating Taehyung’s question in a strangled, squeaky voice, causing Taehyung to flinch. Clearing his throat, Jimin continues, “You love her? What? I thought Hana was upset with you because you had a bit of a crush on her, I know there was always a tension between you two, but I didn’t know that you’d been pining over her for years! You were really in love with her? All that time? You still are?”

Taehyung is the opposite of the unsettled Jimin. With the truth exposed, he feels calm and rational, “Of course I did and I still do,” he says calmly, “And now there are no more promises to keep, but how can I tell her? Hyungsik isn’t going anywhere, the lanky smug bastard.”

Jimin gapes at him, “Get dressed, we need to assemble and get this all out in the open.”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

On the beach, Namjoon, Hyejin, Hobi, Yoongi and Jimin sit in a circle, waiting for Taehyung. When he arrives, exhausted and tense, Jimin unfolds the whole sorry tale from start to finish, ending with Taehyung’s dilemma.

Hyejin interrupts, “I think you have the wrong dilemma,” she explains, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but can I be frank with you?”

Taehyung nods, “Go ahead.”

“The real dilemma should be how you come back from how you’ve treated her, not whether she is with someone else or not, which she isn’t anyway.”

Taehyung nods, “I know, I know I’ve got loads to make up for, wait -“ he pauses, eyes-widening, “What do you mean she’s not with anyone?”

Hyejin smiles, “She’s not with Hyungsik, never has been - they’re just friends. Can I be honest again?” Taehyung nods again, waving a hand permissively, “They never clicked romantically but they became friends really quickly, almost like there was this void in her life where a best friend had been…” she intones a little sarcastically.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Taehyung nods, “I get it…”

Satisfied, Hyejin continues, “I’m not sure if they’re as close as you two once were, but they are really good friends. He’s good for her; she’s good for him. I was rooting for them. I hoped that their friendship might turn into something more.”

Taehyung groans, “I don’t know what to do,” he says, panicking, “I want her to be happy but I want to be the man who makes that happen, not him, no matter how nice he is…”

Hobi smiles gently, “Well, let’s take some time to figure it out. There’s lots of time.”

Taehyung is jittery in response, “I need to see her though. I have to apologise for last night. I need to see her! Where is she?”

Furtive looks pass around his friends, but it’s Namjoon who breaks the news, “She’s gone, Tae,” Taehyung sits stock still as he looks to him for further explanation. Namjoon elaborates, “After last night she realised something big had gone down between you and Hana and decided that it would be better if she wasn’t around. She might not know the truth, but she knew she was an issue for Hana, so she thought it best to go.”

“Where?” is all Taehyung can utter.

“They’ve gone to Busan - Hyungsik has family there and they wanted to continue their holiday so they’re going there instead,” Hyejin explains.

“On holiday with his family?” Taehyung asks, his voice unnaturally high, “Are you sure there’s nothing between them because it feels like visiting the family is a couple thing. A holiday with the family is the kind of time when people fall for each other - you see it all the time in stupid romantic movies!”

“Calm down, Taehyung,” Yoongi says calmly, “You’re spiralling.”

Hyejin speaks kindly, “Is that how you fell for her? On a holiday?”

Taehyung smiles despite himself, “No, that wasn’t it,” he admits.

“When was it then, Tae?” Yoongi prompts, “How long have you known?”

“I’ve always loved her,” he confesses, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love her, it’s been so long. It was never our time though, she was dating or I was, or we both were. Our timelines have never aligned.”

“Until now,” Yoongi suggests, “They do now .”

Taehyung grins, smiling beatifically and crying floods of tears at the same time, in an outpouring of years of repressed feeling. Beside him, Jimin pulls him into a hug, letting Taehyung cry it out as his friends encircle and support him.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung’s phone feels heavy in his hand as he waits for you to reply to his apology and request to talk. When his phone eventually buzzes, he can barely bring himself to read it, raising his phone to unlock with trembling hands: 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 - 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘬. 𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘬’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘞𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩? 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘢𝘯𝘢, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘑𝘦𝘫𝘶!

He passes the phone silently to Jimin, who shows it to Hyejin, “Are you sure she’s just friends with Hyungsik?” Jimin asks nervously.

Taehyung is paying no attention, all he can think of is your devastated face that night in Namjoon’s kitchen when he told you that you suffocated him and his gut twists in shame. He fears that Hyejin was right earlier: his real dilemma is finding a way back after how he’s treated you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

A woman with thin eyebrows and a line for a mouth flares her nostrils, a warning prequel to the snort of disapproval that follows. Taehyung doesn’t care, her judgement means nothing to him and it does nothing to stop the nervous tattoo that his long fingers beat against the Formica table.

Behind the counter, the elderly couple that run the little canteen (calling it a restaurant would be generous) shuffle about, clearly watching him and speculating about what would make such a fine young man so terribly nervous.

It’s taken weeks to get to this moment; ever since you all returned from holiday you’ve solidly avoided him, coming up with excuse after excuse why you can’t. Eventually, through the interference of your mutual friends, you have been cajoled into meeting him briefly at this little canteen.

Suddenly, the old woman nudges her husband in the ribs as the young man suddenly stops, frozen in mid movement. It’s a strange thing, in his frozen state that he looks more alive than he did when he was thrumming with movement: his eyes sparkle as a wide, square smile lights up his face and squeezes his eyes closed in an expression of pure joy. They both turn their attention to the door where a woman, visibly nervous, moves towards him.The elderly couple share a knowing look that simply says ‘young love.’

At Taehyung’s table, the conversation is stiff and awkward, he asks you about Hyungsik, baiting questions designed to make you confess that the two of you aren’t together, but they all fail, leaving him only a direct path.

“It’s a big stage meeting the boyfriend’s family,” he says gently, “I hope they treated you well.”

“It’s not like that between us,” you admit quietly, “His family were lovely though. They’re all like him - generous, kind, thoughtful people.”

Taehyung nods, “Oh, well as long as you’re happy. I thought that he seemed very interested in you.”

You hum thoughtfully, evading his prying questions. How do you tell Taehyung that Hyungsik quickly dismissed the idea of anything romantic happening between you two? That he told you early on that he had too much self-respect to be the back-up option to an unavailable man? You can’t say that, so you say nothing.

“May I ask about Hana?” you say tentatively and he flinches to hear the trepidation in your voice, your words edged with the memories of how he’s spoken to you each time she’s come up.

He frowns, “Hana never made me happy. I don’t want to go into why our ending was so complicated, but it was and it never should have been. I’ve wasted so much time because of her. She is a terrible person.”

You look at him in confusion, wondering where all this could be coming from. You’re surprised by how much he seems to dislike her until you remember how he’s spoken to you in the past. Is this how he’s spoken about you to others? Have he and Jimin sat together while he explains how needy and irritating he finds you? You feel sick at the thought. Collecting yourself, you swallow and force yourself to speak, “Well, I’m glad you’re able to move on now.”

Taehyung smiles, “I am,” he reaches for your hand, “I have a lot of things to put right too. You and I have a lot of things to talk about.”

Cold panic curls in your gut. There’s something in his eyes and the touch of his hand that suggests there’s more to his words. Hyungsik’s words drift through your mind and you realise you feel the same: you don’t want to be Taehyung’s second best, his leftover option.

“Well,” you say gently, sliding your hand from under his, “We don’t need to rush anything, our friendship will regrow naturally. I’m happy for you though, that you can start having fun again and dating. I hope you meet someone that makes you happier than she did.”

Waves of nausea roll over Taehyung as he realises what you’re saying. You are rejecting him, you may be doing so gently, but the meaning couldn’t be clearer. You don’t want him and you don’t want his friendship. His eyes fill as you make excuses about why you need to go, shrug on your coat as you say you’ll catch up soon. You wish him well and leave, in a hurried dervish of action.

Heart throbbing in pain, he calls Jimin and recounts the disaster that has been his botched confession and your rejection, “You should have heard her breezing out of here cheerfully, like she didn’t just break my fuck-, break my heart,” he hisses, remembering where he is. When he hangs up, promising Jimin he’ll head straight over, his attention is called by the old woman, who tells him that you paid for his snacks and drink when you left, but maybe too much.

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she says kindly, “Could you check these numbers?” Oddly, instead of passing him the receipt, she leads him around the counter and he does as she asks.

Confirming all is in order, he begins to move away but she holds his sleeve, her eyes flickering to the monitor beside the till several times, “Sometimes things are not what they seem,” she whispers.

Taehyung looks at the screen, his pulse racing as he turns to the old woman, “Where’s that alley?”

“Directly behind us, she didn’t make it far,” she replies, indicating at the CCTV of the rear alley where you lean against the wall, hand clutching your heart as you cry your eyes out, “Go on then, get after her!”

Taehyung nods, gathering his things and rushing out. Yet, as he turns the corner, he watches you emerge from the alley, slipping into a car that’s just pulled up. The door closes with a dull thunk before he can even say your name.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Hobi, Namjoon and Yoongi meet at the entrance to Taehyung’s apartment, wondering together why they have been summoned with such desperation by Jimin, fearing Taehyung may have done something stupid.

Jimin answers the door with a grateful smile, “Thank God you’re here. He’s driving me absolutely crazy. Prepare yourselves.”

Over the next few hours they pour over the situation with you from every angle, each of them concluding something different. Namjoon thinks Taehyung should listen to you and let things grow naturally, letting love blossom again; Hobi thinks Taehyung should try again and confess everything, especially about Hana, certain that love will find a way; Jimin thinks Taehyung should let you go. It’s Yoongi who speaks last.

“I think there are two questions you need an answer to first before you can even choose the best thing to do,” he explains, whilst Taehyung listens, rapt, “Did she love you before and, if she did, does she still love you now?”

Taehyung swallows, “I don’t know the answer to either of those things.”

With the smallest clear of his throat, Hobi shuffles his feet awkwardly, “I know the answer to the first one,” he admits.

Taehyung looks at him with desperate eyes and Hobi recounts a moment with you.

“Ok, so one night we’d been out, all of us. You and Hana had been arguing in the club and we could all guess who it was about you know who… So she just wanted to get out of there, to stop things escalating and to remove the problem, I guess. She only ever thought of you, Tae, what you needed, what would make things easier for you…”

Tae’s eyes well up as he nods his understanding, pleading for Hobi to go on.

“So we decided to go eat noodles and then I’d walk her home. We didn’t talk about you very much, we drank a lot more outside the convenience store and we’re both quite drunk by the time we were getting to her house. Anyway, as she was unlocking her door she said that she felt bad for you and Hana and wished you two would be happier. I guess I must have looked a little surprised because she laughed and said, ‘I know you know, Hobi!’ I played dumb, but then she said it straight out, what was it she said? I think it was, ‘I know everyone probably knows how I feel about him. You don’t have to feel sorry for me, I realised years ago that it was never going to happen. It’s fine, I still want him to be happy though.’ It was something like that. I tried to talk to her about it, but she said that it had to remain an unspoken thing or your friendship would fall apart, so we agreed never to speak of it again, and we never have.”

A moment of silence falls over them before Jimin speaks, “I’d like to change my position - I agree with Namjoon now.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung and sees the hope kindled in his eyes, ‘Actually, I’m with Hobi,” he asserts, “Talk to her, both of you should be totally honest with each other and take it from there.”

“I don’t think I can persuade her into meeting me again,” Taehyung admits.

Hobi smiles, “Don’t worry. I can set something up.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Ok, ok,” Hobi begins over the phone, “I called her and I know where she is right now.”

A short conversation follows, where Taehyung mostly reassures Hobi he’s doing the right thing by deceiving you and that it’s for the best. Taehyung thanks him and as soon as he hangs up he looks up the café where Hobi has said you are, having never heard of it. Despite his best intentions, since your disastrous meeting, you’ve been hard to find; the listing for the bookshop with a tiny café explains why; you’ve obviously taken to hanging out on the other side of the city. Taehyung wonders if maybe he should take a hint from that… Does it mean that you want to be far away from him? He concludes that, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He can’t let go of you; if you want rid of him you’re going to have to tell him that to his face.

When he’s finally crossed the city, he follows the map on his phone with single-minded determination; he’s worried you won’t still be there by the time he arrives. How much time can anyone while away in such a place? Yet, as he climbs the rickety spiral staircase edged with books that the heavily burdened shelves can’t accommodate, he realises that you could easily spend hours here. Following the gentle aroma of sweet, spiced tea, he finds the small café at the back of the second floor; it looks over a park where the fanned leaves of ginkgo are now edged in gold.

You don’t notice his arrival, your head is pressed to the glass as you stare outside; your headphones are in and you are lost in thought. He crosses to you quietly and takes a seat, which you finally take notice of out of the corner of your eye. As you turn, he watches the emotions play out across your face; surprise, worry, panic.

With fumbling fingers you remove your headphones as he smiles, “Sorry for startling you,” he apologises as you drop your headphones, “I didn’t mean to make you flustered.”

You blush then, “I didn’t expect to see you-, see anyone, here,” you mumble, correcting yourself.

“Have I invaded your sanctuary?” he asks, half-teasingly, half-genuinely.

You smile weakly, “A little, but it’s ok. What are you doing here?” you ask, still too puzzled and flustered to notice how blunt you’re being.

He presses his lips together, “Ah, yes… I’m sorry, but I think I might fluster you again,” he apologises, noticing the look of panic flash across your eyes again, “I came here to find you because we have more to talk about and I want to know why, when I suggested that you and I needed to talk about us, that you shot me down without any hesitation.”

You stare at him, open-mouthed at his bold statement. You have no idea how to deal with his frankness without being honest yourself, so you try to take a gamble, “I didn’t understand where it could be leading, the words you were using sounded…” you trail off as your courage fails you, trying to avoid saying what you mean.

“Where I was leading?” he repeats, “Ah, saying we need to talk about ‘us’ sounded like I meant something more than friends? Like I meant something romantic?” he prompts, wanting to help you out and desperate to lead the conversation to where he wants it to go.

“Well, yes,” you say awkwardly, looking into your lap, “And I know that’s not what you meant at all.”

He waits for you to stop twisting your hands and look at him, “It’s exactly what I meant,” he says, his eyes staring into yours, “I want to talk about giving us a chance.”

You tremble slightly as you pull your cardigan from the back of your chair and put it on to distract from your nerves, “Us?” you repeat dumbly.

“Let’s be honest with each other,” Taehyung insists, “When we met in that canteen you knew what I was trying to suggest and you ran a mile. I know you’re shy but don’t pretend now that you don’t know what I mean.”

You swallow, your voice a little bit stronger when you reply, “There isn’t an ‘us’ though is there? Not even as friends anymore - I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” you begin, avoiding his gaze, “I don’t know what it is you think I can offer you, but you’re wrong. I know you must be hurting from whatever happened with Hana, but looking backwards to the past for comfort isn’t the solution. You should move forward - I’m not sure what it is you’re hoping for, but it’s not me.”

Again he waits in silence for you to look at him before he responds. So, you did know what he meant in the canteen…He wants to chuckle slightly at what he knows to be another one of your obviously rehearsed responses; after your last meeting you clearly have prepared for any possible follow-up conversation.

Taehyung is unperturbed, in fact, he’s relieved; everything you’ve said so far has been about disbelieving that he is genuine, nothing you’ve said has been about your own feelings. If you don’t have feelings for him, surely you would just say that? he reasons; the very fact that you’re being evasive makes him hope that you do have feelings for him. He’s certain he can coax the truth out of you if he presses on.

When you finally raise your eyes to his, he smiles gently, “What I’m hoping for is you,” he emphasises, “I want you. More than anything, I wish that you would love me again.”

You say nothing for a moment, dumbstruck. Then he watches the cogs spinning in your mind as you try to work out how to reply. When you do, your voice is soft, “I will always love you, Taehyung,” you admit, “Just because we’re not as close as we once were doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

You’re not going to admit it, he realises, Not yet. You’re going to continue evading and misinterpreting his words and if he pushes you too hard, you might just run again.

He takes another approach, “Good! I’m glad you still love me because I love you too,” he smiles, hoping you listen to the truth of that, not just your chosen interpretation of friendship, “So let’s rebuild our friendship, then. Come home with me, let’s watch a movie at mine, like we used to, I’ll order us dinner.”

Thrown off balance by the change in direction and the whole conversation, you blindly submit. Taehyung is quick to gather your things and bundle you out of the shop before you can change your mind. On the train journey back across the city to his apartment, you accept his offer of his shoulder and rest your head; as you relax against him you can’t help but admit to yourself that you’re not simply following along. Your heart is beating rapidly because you hope, beyond all reason, that he does actually want to be with you and all of this isn’t as mad as it seems.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You awaken to the sense of being lowered into the clouds; your tired eyes open to find Taehyung above you, his arms slipping from under you as you sink into the softness of his bed.

“Ah, you woke up!” he smiles, “Go back to sleep baby, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

True to his word, the evening had been just like one from the past, you’d watched a film, slowly relaxing, then talked about nonsense and nothing of importance. You ate and laughed together until your heavy lids and exhaustion from so many different feelings had got the better of you.

“You hate sleeping on the couch,” you mumble sleepily, “It’s not comfortable.”

He sits on the bed beside you, stroking your hair from your eyes with long fingers, “Well then I can’t let you sleep there then, can I?”

Your eyes flutter open a little wider, “Just stay here then, we’ve shared before.”

“That wouldn’t be more uncomfortable for you?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You swallow, trying to be brave, “No, I want you to stay.”

He nods, smiling, before he gets up and pulls some clothes for you and him from a drawer, “Ok, I’ll change outside. There’s a spare toothbrush in the vanity if you want to wash up,” he says, indicating the en-suite.

When he re-enters, you’re already cuddled up in bed in one of his large tees, making him smile. When he gets out of the bathroom, he climbs in beside you, pulling your sleepy body into his embrace.

You’ve missed this, you realise, the closeness with him. Never, in all the time that he’s distanced himself from you have you been able to stop loving him. Yes, you’re nervous that whatever happened with Hana has affected him and that this desire to be with you is just a moment of madness, a weird sort of rebound and that he’ll come to regret it. Yet a voice nags at you, What if he doesn’t regret it? What if one thing leads to another and he falls for you like you fell for him all those years ago?

Taehyung can tell you’re thinking furiously, your mind disturbed and so he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, drawing a happy little hum of contentment from you, “I’ve missed you,” he breathes quietly.

Your mind roars at you, Why do you always give up what you want, staying silent through years of Taehyung dating other women? Why did you force yourself to give him space when it was obvious Hana hated you instead of telling him she wasn’t good enough for him? Why should you deny yourself this moment with him when he’s all that you want? When he’s all that you’ve ever wanted? Fuck it… you resolve.

“I’ve missed you too,” you breathe back.

“Can I spoon you?” he asks, boldly kissing the tip of your nose in a gentle peck.

Your eyes open as you nod. Your heart flutters as you build the courage to kiss the tip of his nose, right on his little mole, in return.

Taehyung’s eyes widen before he leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth tenderly, hoping against hope that he’s not going too far.

This time you don’t pause: you swipe your mouth over his and kiss him softly, capturing the full pout of his lower lip between yours. He kisses you back and soon one kiss melts into another; his minty tongue flicking against your lips to plead entry. Soon you are making out, slowly and full of gentle hesitation. Moments stretch into minutes as you hold each other, your hands wandering over each other’s hair, arms and back. The kisses don’t heat up: nothing that’s happening now is about lust or desire, this is you telling Taehyung you love him and him telling you he loves you in return.

When you break apart, lips puffy, both blushing, all idea of spooning is abandoned, your limbs entangling as you pull each other closer, too shy to speak of what’s happened, melting into each other as sleep claims you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung wakes to feel you gently hovering over his body as you try to climb from the bed, he seizes your waist in his firm hold, “Where are you going?” he grumbles, not yet opening his eyes.

“To the bathroom,” you reply dryly. He doesn’t care, please that you didn’t flinch from his touch.

“Then come back immediately,” he commands, his eyes opening and you nod, blushing.

When you come back, he stands to greet you, kissing the top of your head and making room for you to get back into bed. His heart beats a little faster, realising you’ve brushed your teeth again and he hopes it’s in readiness for more kissing, not you washing away those from the night before in regret.

When he returns and climbs in beside you, you look nervous. He strokes your face with the back of his fingers, “I need to tell you what happened with Hana,” he begins, “It’s important.”

You nod and he does: he begins with admitting he has been in love with you for longer than he can remember and everything follows from there, all the mess with Hana; the promise he made; what he found out on Jeju; finding out from Hobi that you once had loved him too; all of it.

As he talks he sits up in bed, finding a comfortable position and you cuddle into his side, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as he tells you everything. Over the course of his retelling, the tattoo of his heart gives way to the soft growling of his stomach.

When he finishes, you sit up and look at him as he awaits your response, “Let’s get breakfast,” is all you can say, temporarily overwhelmed by all he has told you, “There’s a lot to process and a lot to talk about.”

Taehyung looks crestfallen, and your heart, so in tune with his now, throbs in sympathy. Without thinking you straddle him, cupping his face and kissing his nose, “Thank you for being honest with me.”

He tilts his head, “Will you be honest with me too?” he asks, taking your hands in his and swinging them side to side.

“I have been,” you protest as he frowns.

”Can you love me again?” he asks.

“I told you yesterday that I’d always love you Tae, that was the truth,” you admit, looking away shyly, “I’ve never stopped.”

Before he can speak, you kiss him again. He’s quick to release your hands, wrapping them around you so he can guide you onto your back as he deepens the kiss.

“What about breakfast?” you ask as his hungry mouth finds your neck.

“Fuck breakfast,“ is the muffled reply you receive as his mouth finds yours again.

Like the night before, each kiss melts into the next. Unlike last night though, with love admitted and freely spoken, desire edges into your embrace, gilding your edges with a simmering heat that builds in warmth and intensity drawing your bodies ever closer together.

After so long of dreaming of each other, of years of longing and unanswered need, what follows isn’t the choreographed routine of two lovers who know each other’s bodies. Instead, as you kiss and grind against each other, your clothes seem to slowly fall away, either shrugged off by or pulled away by the other: Taehyung sucks a bruise into your neck as you shimmy his boxers down before he kicks them off, you giggle into the sharp bone of his clavicle as his fingers hook into the elastic of your underwear.

You gasp into his mouth when he guides his cock into you, and tremble beneath him as he fucks into you, your bodies melded together with each deep, slow thrust. Your hands grip at his back and hair as your legs wrap around his waist. His slow grind ensures you come before he does, gasping his name as he sloppily kisses your cheek; he raises himself then, grinning down at you, glowing with sweat and breathless as he chases his high, you cling to his arms, smiling and gasping as, with a groan, the tendons of his neck tense. He thrusts your bodies as close as he can, driving deep into you, his balls pressed close as his cock pulses inside you. When the world resolves itself from pure ecstasy, he looks down at you in wonder as you look up at him with the same look: both of you silently saying the same thing.

When he slips from you and fetches a damp cloth to clean you up, you smile shyly at each other. He eases sweaty tendrils of hair from your flushed face, “I feel like a teenager,” he laughs.

You purse your lips and nod, “That was…” you don’t know how to finish the sentence, you want to say ‘sweet’ but it feels wrong.

Taehyung fills in for you, “Perfect and,” he pauses, “very overdue.”

“I love you,” you reply without missing a beat.

Taehyung grins in satisfaction, “I love you too,” the last syllable obscured by his rumbling stomach, causing you both to laugh again.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Why can’t we tell our friends yet?” Taehyung asks, fluffing his hair out of his eyes with the back of his fingers as he checks himself out in your bedroom mirror.

“Because I just have the sense from Namjoon that the mystery weekend that he swept Hyejin off to was a ruse for a proposal,” you explain as you shimmy your dress over your hips, ready to meet your friends at the fancy restaurant that Namjoon has booked.

“Ah…” Taehyung smiles, “You think we’d steal their thunder?”

“I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking,” you admit.

Wordlessly, Taehyung appears behind you, helping you with the zip you’re struggling with, delivering a kiss to your shoulder, “You’re right,” he agrees.

“I wish we could though,” you admit, turning into his arms, “It’ll be hard to pretend we’re indifferent to each other.”

“Babe, that’s all that we were doing before,” he laughs, kissing you.

“True,” you admit, “But I don’t want to do that anymore, I want to hang out with you.”

“We should say we’ve resolved all the issues between us, and that we’re friends again,” he suggests, “Given that it was Hyejin who wanted to bring us together in the first place, it’ll be nice for her to know she helped.”

“That’s sweet,” you smile, flicking your nose against his chin; he takes the hint and kisses you again with a rumbling, low laugh.

When you break apart, he looks at you uncomfortably, “There is someone that I’d like you to tell though.”

“Hyungsik,” you supply and he nods awkwardly, “I understand, I’ll tell him tonight. You have to believe me that you two would really get along. Could you just hang out a bit with him tonight?”

Taehyung inclines his head graciously, “For you, I’ll try,” he submits, “But you have to remember that for months I’ve hated him on principle, it’s weird to let that go.”

“We never even kissed,” you say, rolling your eyes, “Your imagination did the rest.”

He laughs at that, “So you didn’t let me believe you two were dating in Jeju?”

You squirm, “Maybe a little bit…”

He laughs at your discomfort, before catching sight of the clock behind you, “C’mon babe, we’re going to be late.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You were right, the dinner was a celebration of Namjoon and Hyejin’s engagement. Despite the happiness you feel for them, the dinner is a torturous affair. You sit with Hyungsik, away from Taehyung. After months of finding it too painful to look at him, now you ache trying not to. Being with him and not with him simultaneously is agony.

The opposite side of the room from you, Taehyung avoids looking at you at all costs. Though he is secure in the knowledge that there’s nothing between you and Hyungsik, he is nonetheless jealous that the other man gets to sit through three courses of your company before Taehyung is able to move around the table and get to you.

If not for his respect for Namjoon, he’d be declaring his love for you to anyone who asked and he would be sitting with you now, hand in hand beneath the table. Instead, he is lying through his teeth, batting away his friends’ questions about you, pretending that he is following Namjoon’s advice and slowly building your friendship back to where it should be. Largely their curiosity seems satisfied, except for Hobi, who scrutinises Taehyung carefully as he spins his fictions. Hobi can’t help but feel suspicious, especially when he sees you explaining something to Hyungsik that has him gasping into his hands before he beams at you. That in itself alerts Hobi that something is up, but it’s compounded by the way Hyungsik can’t seem to stop glancing over at Taehyung after it.

Later in the evening, Hobi shares his suspicions with Jimin as they sit, chairs pressed close beside each other. They watch carefully as Taehyung makes awkward and stilted conversation with the accommodating and smiley Hyungsik whilst you look nervously on.

“See?” Hobi indicates to Jimin, speaking out of the side of his mouth, “I think she knows how he feels, look at her - her attention is totally on Taehyung and how he’s reacting to Hyungsik…”

Jimin nods, “I see it. Do you think he’s confessed? How do you think she took it?”

“Oh boys,” Hyejin sighs, placing her hands on the backs of their chairs before leaning between them, “Would you like my take?”

Sliding across a chair, Jimin makes room and she joins their little observation panel between them. After a few moments, watching Taehyung’s spasming arm reach and withdraw from you repeatedly, she smirks, “Well, well…” she laughs, only explaining herself when Jimin implores her, “I’d say our Taehyungie has been telling fibs. I don’t think he’s followed Joon’s advice at all. I think he’s followed yours, Hobi,” she says, looking at the man beside her.

“Really? You think he has confessed?” Hobi smiles.

“I’m pretty sure,” she asserts, “I think he’s confessed and so has she. She’s told Hyungsik and now the boys are learning to play nicely.”

“Makes sense,” Hobi concurs, thinking of the earlier scene he witnessed, “But why not tell us?”

Jimin scoffs, “And steal all of our attention away from Namjoon and Hyejin? When the announcement was made Taehyung must have decided to lie.”

Hyejin’s brow furrows, “No, I don’t think so,” she muses, “She already had suspicions that Joonie was likely to propose - we’ve talked about it. I think she predicted what tonight was really about and they planned this in advance. That’s typical of her.”

They sit for a moment, smiling together before Hyejin giggles, “You know how we are all going to have brunch tomorrow?” she asks.

“We’re meeting at the café, yeah? The one by Taehyung’s place? At 11?” Jimin supplies.

“Let’s meet earlier… Let’s meet at 10, and at Taehyung’s place. Let’s have some fun with them.”

Jimin grins wickedly, “Hyejin, I like the way you think…”

Across the room, you, Taehyung and Hyungsik turn to follow the sound of laughter, watching as Hyejin, Hobi and Jimin cackle gleefully together.

“They’re plotting something,” Taehyung notices astutely.

“Hmm, they’re just missing a cauldron,” you offer.

“Something wicked this way comes…” suggests Hyungsik ominously.

The three of you turn to each other and laugh. Your heart lifts as Taehyung and Hyungsik smile, hoping this is the start of their friendship.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Soft music curls around you as you push up the overlong sleeves of one of Taehyung’s hoodies, before you turn the volume down a little more. He’s still fast asleep down the hall after last night’s dinner and you want to make breakfast without waking him.

You gingerly tread towards the fridge to gather the ingredients you need; your waddle is nothing to do with staying quiet, your bare feet make no noise against the cold tiles of the floor; no, your slow walk is far more to do with your bruised thighs and tender vagina. Pre-Taehyung it’d been a while since you last had sex and last night was a revelation: the gentle shyness of your first time together was a distant memory as soon as the door closed behind you.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

As soon as your feet slipped from your heels, Taehyung pressed you against the door. His hot mouth on your neck and his hardening crotch grinding against you as your fingers tangle in his hair. His hands were quick to pull your dress up around your waist, his knee pressing against yours to guide your legs further apart.

He kissed you as he stroked you through the dampening silk of your underwear. You moaned into his mouth, and lust ran through his blood in hot waves, filling his cock as molten heat pooled in your core. His long fingers pushed your underwear to one side before he slid one, then two fingers into you, quickly working out how to curl them to draw the prettiest, most needy whines from you.

Quickly you were a trembling mess as neither his fingers nor his tongue relented. Feeling merciful, Taehyung broke from your mouth to attack your neck, letting free your chorus of moans and praise for him, “Feels so good, Tae, please don’t stop…”

He plunged his fingers a little faster into you as your hips began to grind against his hand, knowing he was getting you close, “Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he grinned, nipping your neck and maintaining his rhythm.

You nodded, begging for him, incoherent broken syllables of need and desire. He thought of stopping, wanting to insist that you came around his cock but he couldn’t bring himself to, too desperate to see you come undone for him. He carried on, fingering you to your shuddering orgasm and grinning as you whimpered and writhed against him.

He slid his fingers from you as you gasped and smiled at him, your eyes glazed as you came down from your high, “You good, babe?” he grinned as you hummed in contentment, reaching for his belt buckle.

As you sank to your knees, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines, he smiled down at you, shuddering with anticipation for what was to come as you breathed gently over the head of his cock, before your tongue gently teased the tip. The moan of pleasure he offered made you determined to draw more from him.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

This morning, you smile at the memory of how he’d crumbled under the touch of your hands and mouth; his delighted surprise as you’d deep-throated him, his cockhead pressing against your throat; his delicious frustration as you’d teased him… It was glorious, but he paid you back tenfold for your fun. After coming down your throat, he practically dragged you to the bedroom where he ate you out until you screamed and then fucked you with your legs over your shoulders until all you could do was weakly babble his name.

As you prepare breakfast, sore as you are, you feel arousal begin to soak through your fresh underwear at the memory. You want him again. You can’t be close enough to Taehyung; no kiss is enough; no embrace enough. You’ve waited so long for him that now he’s yours you don’t want to let him go. Your need for him is only temporarily sated by the sensation of being filled by his cock. The tense, wonderful feeling of how hard he is, how tightly you fit around him, making you see stars and driving you to orgasm in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Distracting yourself with cooking, you don’t notice when Taehyung appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck while you’re at the stove.

“Smells delicious,” he praises, as you jump at the contact.

“It’s nearly ready,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him, “Go sit and I’ll bring it over,” you can’t help but grin as he ambles from the kitchen with heavy footed, sleepy steps, his eyes puffy as he yawns loudly.

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

After breakfast, dishes cleared and everything put away, any trace of tiredness Taehyung may have felt is long gone.

“You like that? Yeah?” he pants, “Can you feel how fucking hard you make me?”

Pinned beneath him on his couch, you moan out in pleasure as he drives into you, “Fuck, Taehyung, you feel so fucking good…”

He’s already fucked you once since breakfast, your underwear and his large tee discarded with his pyjamas across the dining table which he’d bent you over as you finished cleaning up. Afterwards, gentle cuddles on the couch had heated up until you’d straddled him, riding him to your orgasm. Impatient, after you’d come he was quick to throw you on your back so he could take you with the full force of his lust.

You can hear the slickness of his withdrawal before he thrusts inside you again; no matter how many times he fucks you, the stretch of him parting your walls is a heady mix of pain and pleasure that you’re already addicted to. In all your years of dreaming about him, you could never imagine it would feel like this. A new vocabulary needs to be invented for the things Taehyung does to you, fucking and coming are not enough to explain the pure euphoria and heights he can drive you to.

“You’re so fucking tight, babe… You’re driving me crazy,” he huffs out, confirming he feels it just as much as you do, “You were fucking made to take me… Fucking perfect...”

The pounding is relentless, he rocks back to sit up, without breaking rhythm, raising your hips so he can thrust deeper. You cry out at the new angle, it hurts but feels so, so good. In this position you can do nothing but take his relentless thrusts.

His thumb works your clit and you cry out, “I can’t,” you squirm pointlessly in your sensitivity, “Tae, I can’t… I can’t come again.”

“You can and you will, need you to come for me,” he pleads, before a wicked grin creeps across his face, “Wanna fill you up while you squeeze me…”

Arching your back, you squeeze around him, clenching your walls, “Ahhh,” he groans, “Nice try babe, but you’re gonna come for me…” he insists, working your clit more rapidly as his pace picks up, his high approaching.

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone, you cry out pitifully as you spasm around his length, “Fuck, that’s it, grip it just like that, fuckkkkkk,” Taehyung groans, slamming into you, his ball pressing against you as he comes, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you as he reaches his high.

A panting mess, he collapses onto you, chuckling into your neck, “You make me come so hard.”

Your sweat-slicked bodies stick together, yet you still wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, hands tangling in his hair as he kisses you sloppily.

“What time is it?” You pant as he withdraws from you with a soft hiss.

“It’s just gone 10,” he checks, pulling tissues from the coffee table to clean you up, “Don’t worry we haven’t got to be there ’til 11,” he offers a hand to help ease your aching body up as a loud knock comes at the door.

You look at each other in panic as Taehyung puts his fingers to his lips.

Outside his door, Jimin, Hobi, Namjoon and Hyejin press their hands over their mouths not to laugh.

Nodding at them, Jimin raises his voice unnecessarily loudly, “Taehyung? You there, man?” When he receives no response, he lowers his volume, but makes sure he can definitely be heard from the other side of the door, “He must be out. I’m just gonna let myself in and grab my hoodie…”

They all suppress laughter as Jimin, with teasing slowness, enters the key code.

They step inside the apartment to the sound of Taehyung’s bedroom door slamming shut. The windows have been flung wide open, but the smell of sex lingers. Kicking their shoes off beside your heels from the night before their eyes land on Taehyung, bare chested in pyjama pants, clothes bundled in his arm. Eyes wide, he flings his hand, which so obviously has lacy women’s underwear in it, behind his back.

“Hi guys,” he offers gamely, trying to style it out, “What brings you here?”

“Needed my hoodie,” Jimin states bluntly, “You didn’t answer - I hope we haven’t interrupted something?” he asks, suppressing a smile.

“Just cleaning up,” Taehyung says, trying to shake his hair from his eyes.

“Are you ok?” Namjoon asks, in mock concern, “You look hot? It’s too cold to have the windows open, Tae - do you have a fever?” he steps forward with the back of his hand outstretched to feel Taehyung’s forehead.

In panic, Taehyung steps away, moving his hair out of his eyes without thought, using the hand in which your underwear hangs, “Fuck!” he yells, throwing them behind him as his friends burst into laughter, Jimin grabbing his hoodie from the hook beside the door.

“If you’re not sick I guess we’ll just see you at the café?” Hobi laughs.

As they file out leaving Taehyung dumbstruck and frozen, Hyejin, unable to contain herself, turns back as she pulls the door closed behind her calling your name out loudly, “We’ll see you there too! Take your time guys!”

Your friends cackle in unison as the door softly clicks shut behind them. Taehyung turns as his bedroom door opens and you, holding a blanket in front of your body, look at him in horror.

“At least we don’t need to worry about when to tell them now, I guess?” he offers, trying to put a positive spin on it.

You grimace, “Did they hear…” you choke out, unable to finish the phrase.

“Us fucking?” he supplies, not altogether helpfully, “I think it’s a safe bet they caught the, uh, climax?” Together, you burst into embarrassed laughter.

“I’m going to shower,” you groan, “Then we better go face them.”

“Want me to join you?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Absolutely fucking not,” you deadpan, shutting the door nod whining in embarrassment as you pad to the shower.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“We figured it out last night,” Hyejin admits at the café, “Though we appreciate you guys keeping it quiet for our sakes,” she smiles, laying her hand over her fiancé’s.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, hiding your face in your hands, while Taehyung rubs your back comfortingly.

“Don’t be!” Hobi insists, “We really didn't hear anything at all!”

“Honestly,” Namjoon adds, “It was your shoes being there and Taehyung flinging your underwear around that gave it away.”

You groan again as Hyejin cuffs his shoulder, “Not helpful, Joonie!”

It’s that moment that Yoongi rolls in, “Sorry I’m late, had a work thing to sort,” he apologises, taking a seat opposite you as you uncover your face, “What did I miss?”

You frown slightly, trying to work out what to say. Taehyung squeezes your shoulder, “Nothing much -” he begins.

Gesturing for the waitress to come over, Yoongi looks back at the two of you, “Other than these guys hearing you two going at it this morning, you mean?” he teases, “Yeah, Jimin called and told me all about that… Good for you, it’s about time.”

With a muffled wail you bury your face in Taehyung’s shoulder as he glares daggers at Jimin. Namjoon groans, cuffing Yoongi gently, careful to avoid his shoulder, “Not helpful, man!”

⊛ ⊛ ⊛

Hours later, you head back to Taehyung’s hand in hand, waving goodbye to your friends with a warm contentment that you have never felt before.

Taehyung’s hand tightens around yours, “Will you stay tonight?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah, I just need to go home and get some stuff.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says quickly.

“You know, I won’t run away,” you tease.

He stops walking and pulls you to him, enclosing you in his arms, “I’m not letting you go for one minute. You’re mine now and I’d be lost without you, baby.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Bright sunlight cuts a sharp line across Taehyung’s eyes as he blinks slowly awake the next morning. Laying on his stomach, he buries his face into his pillow for a moment, grumbling to himself as he stretches his arm out, his fingers caressing the warmth of your skin. He turns his head, grinning as he strokes your back where you lie peacefully beside him, where you’ve always belonged.

Your eyes flicker open to meet his, reflecting his smile. Turning on your side, you move closer to him until you can kiss the tip of his nose.

It’s not long before you’re pinned beneath him, as he nuzzles into you, “Love me, love me, love me,” he insists, his kisses turning into a bruise as he sucks on your neck.

“Love you, love you, love you,” you chorus, your hands running down his hips to slide his boxers off before you wrap your hand around his thick length, gently teasing his head with the precum collecting there, drawing a gasp from him.

“What’s this?” you tease, “Having naughty dreams about someone?”

“You, always you…” he confesses as your hand begins to slide along his length, “Want…” he stutters with a shudder.

“Want what?” you ask, nipping his ear lobe as you grip firmly, your other hand reaching around to tug gently at his balls.

Breathless, his fingers explore your wet folds before he pushes your hands from him, wrapping his hand around his length. His eyes stare into yours, “I want you,” he affirms, “Only you, always you, nobody else.”

Your contented hum turns into a drawn out moan as he drives into you in one powerful thrust. Gripping his back as he fucks you hard and slow, you mouth every expression of love you can think of into the heat of each other’s skin, more in love than either of you have ever known possible.

<<< BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #taehyung smut #v smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung angst

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Thank you so much, lovely anon - I’m glad you found my stories 💛

@ffion451 is such an underrated, amazing author. She writes such real and beautiful series. More people should read her stuff!!

💜

#lovely anon #lovely reader

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Hi 🥺 the link for Go Easy On Me is broken from your masterlist. Is it deleted?

Oh no - I’m sorry! I think I’ve fixed it now. I hate it when things like that happen - I’ll have to have a little tidy up and check all my links are working… that’s for flagging it.

The fic is here just in case my masterlist fix hasn’t worked!

💛

#tysm #little link gremlins creating havoc #go easy on me

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ffion451 · 11 months

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ALSO.

MARTHA WAINWRIGHT IN YOUR PLAYLIST.

Sorry, I refuse to believe you are anything but perfect. <3

🌻

Bloody love Martha! It’s not me that’s perfect, it’s you! 💛

#🌻💛#love me all the wainwrights #off to listen to this again #stuck in my head now #ffion rambles on

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ffion451 · 11 months

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I'm back!

I have a confession to make. I read this the day you posted it, and I've spent the entire time marinating over what I wanted to say.

Do you believe in serendipity? I ask beacuse in a way, I releate to Taehyung so much--in the aspect of having unhealthy aspects in my personality that I did not consider to be bad due to my upbrining.

Recently, I've taken a step back to the point of cutting out my parents from my life for things that have been done to me in an effort to break the toxic cycle, for wanting to be and do better, and the fact that I found this story at the precise time--serendipity, I tell you.

I have to say, the choice you made to end this story makes me feel almost seen! You've taken this character with a very toxic trait and gifted him a chance to find someone who could see those traits for what they are--compartmentalized trauma that he's been desensitized from, and instead of punishing him, you granted him the opportunity to break the chains with the help of a beautiful support system.

Sorry not sorry, but I will not let you deny my awe of you!! This story was so much more. The depth, and the chance of healing, gosh. It feels like spring. Like rebirth. Like Demeter rejoicing at having her daughter back.

Thank you so much for writing this. I'm sorry that this platform seems to only be interested in the usual tropes. But I hope you know that, that does not make your writing any less. On the contrary, I feel like it's superior to most of the stuff I find here, and I want you to know that this story will carry a special place in my heart.

If and when you do decide to come back, I will be here. Sunflowers grow on the side of concrete roads, after all.

Be well. Be happy. And please don't ignore your writing muse, no matter what you decide to do with your talent.

-🌻

Beautiful, lovely 🌻- I’m so glad you finished the story! I have so much to say… Blow by blow reply below the cut - I’m afraid it’s a very lengthy reply - sorry! ☺️

I do believe in serendipity. I don’t think I’ve used the phrase “that’s serendipitous” in any of my stories but irl I say it alarmingly often! I’m so glad you found an aspect of Taehyung that you related to, even if it is for difficult reasons.

My Nana would always say “Nobody is ever just one thing” and its one of the many mantras I try to live by. We’re all made of light and shade and even in the worst, most heinous people there’s a glimmer of something good, kind or likeable in the same way that in the warmest people there can be something dark lurking. I think it’s the best and worst thing about being human - we’re all multi-faceted and as we discover the shape and form of each other we can, by turns, be delighted or repulsed.

Thank you for keeping an open mind about this Taehyung and finding something to like in him. It was super-important to me not to glamourise his choices - I really hope that came across. The decisions he made were wrong, but I hope he’s redeemed because he understands that they were - that’s the crucial thing, because with that I think he can change and heal.

Similarly, the very fact that you say you have “unhealthy aspects” of your personality tells me that you are a good person (as I already suspected) and by that I mean a truly good person: if you weren’t you wouldn’t recognise those things in yourself.

I cannot express how much I admire you; people who see themselves without distortion or fear and can own who they are, those people I think are some of the wisest and most admirable people, and the best people to have by your side.

As I said above, I admire your bravery and from what you’ve said here, you are truly courageous. The choices you’ve made are shattering, splintering ones that fault-line through our lives. It’s a massive decision to do anything like this and I applaud you wholeheartedly for doing so - I imagine it has cost you a lot but you are undoubtedly worth it. I hope you are in a better place and happier situation now, but if you’re still getting there I’m sure it’s just around the corner for you. I want to say well done, but it feels patronising! Instead I’ll just thank you for your honesty and sharing your reality with me, it’s an inspiration ☺️

Thank you for seeing what I was trying to do with this story!

As I read this part I thought to myself, ‘Is 🌻 a writer?’ I suspect you may be. If you’re not, maybe you should try! There’s a poetry and musicality to your expression and I think your soul too - I feel it in my bones when I read your words 😊

Though you may disagree, I think you are too kind in your evaluation of my writing. Ofc my fragile self-esteem longs for recognition etc (I’m only human!) but if I was really forced to choose between being a popular writer or engagement like this, I’d choose this every single time without doubt: the reason I read, the reason I write, is to give expression to all the feelings that swirl inside me and to find those feelings in others. It makes me feel seen, like another candle burning in the darkness. That you for that, thanks for finding my story, reading it and sharing a little of yours with me. I’m so very, very grateful to you.

I’d like to write again, there are so many bloody words in me that want to escape, so many half-formed phrases and images… it’s noisy in my brain! The problem is all these things just circle aimlessly nowadays. It’s ironic given the name of the last fix but there’s no centre, no gravitational pull to hold them together and to give them shape; they’re just words without stories. I hope desperately that the pull comes back and I’ll write again - I find peace in it and even if those little narratives only chime with an handful of people, that’s ok - that’s enough.

In the meantime, I’ll be grateful for what I’ve been given from the lovely kind souls I’ve found here, like your wonderful self. I’ll lurk about for a while, do some reading again maybe (hopefully) and one day write again if the fates are willing.

My inbox is always open, never be a stranger!

Thank you for everything!

Ffi 💛

#lovely readers #🌻💛#this means the world to me #the centre cannot hold #ffion rambles on #no really I do I ramble and and on and on #sorry about that #writers things

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Thanks for tagging me @taehyungcentral - am definitely going to check out the songs I don’t know on your list ☺️

Rules: Put all of your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that pop up!

Mine follow (screenshotted because I was too lazy to type 🙃) They are eclectic and my Scottish is definitely showing 😂 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Tagging: Anyone and everyone who sees this and would like a go!

Ffi 💛

#tag game #my music

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Anon - I hope you see this ☺️ thank you so much for being so lovely about my writing and for your message - you’ve made my day! 🥰

Also @americanobts this is the first time I’ve seen your account, what a fabulous generous thing to set up and do! Such a kind, nice thing - thank you 💛

To @ffion451 dear authornim, You're an expectational writer! Your works are captivating and addicting so please know that I will always come back and reread your fics. Take care!

💜

#kind readers #what a lovely account #i recommend #bts fanfics #reading recommendations

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ffion451 · 11 months

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i will miss you a lot. please take care. 🫂🤍 you are amazing at writing. ily

You are too kind! I’ll keep dabbling with writing and hopefully will find some inspiration somewhere down the line and then I’ll be back to spam you with my scribblings again. Hopefully a rest will see me right and then I’ll be back and (hopefully) better!

(Those unfinished fics still irk me - I do like to tie up loose ends…)

Tysm for reading, for your support and your kindness. ily too 💛

#lovely reader #ily💛#kind people #supportive #the centre cannot hold

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ffion451 · 11 months

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i’m sad it’s over but it’s a great story, good job!!💜💜

Thank you so much for reading and letting me know your thoughts - I really appreciate it. I’m glad you enjoyed it - the end of a story is always bittersweet I think, when I finish one I always think of things I wish I’d done differently or could improve… In the case of this one (The Centre Cannot Hold) I had so many different endings in mind for this one that I know I’ll wish I’d chosen another somewhere down the line, but I’ll leave it alone… 😂 (no more rewrites!)

Thanks again 💛

#lovely reader #the centre cannot hold

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Chapter Twenty: Then There Was You | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x f!reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️ SMUT (m/f unprotected sex, m>f oral sex), threat, intoxication, reader is a mild dom, some light bondage (nothing too spicy) yandere and dark themes

Word count: 9.1K

<<< Chapter Nineteen

The door shuts just in time: both men pause mid-motion, shocked into stillness, statues in their surprise. Namjoon grips the door handle tightly as it rattles with another dull thump then a shattering sound.

“So that’s both the lamp and the water I left beside his bed,” Namjoon sighs.

“You used glass?” Jihan quizzes, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey,” Namjoon complains as the cacophony of bangs continues from Taehyung’s room, “I didn’t see this coming… Have they broken up or something? The last three weeks he’s been a nightmare, staggering in blind drunk nearly every night…”

Jihan shrugs, “I don’t know,” he admits, “He won’t say anything and she won’t answer my calls. When I text her she claims she has shitty reception on whatever work trip she’s on. She said they’re fine though.”

“Well he can’t carry on like this,” Namjoon states, “Who would know what’s going on?”

Jihan bites his lip thinking carefully before he answers, “Park Jimin… or maybe Woo Jiho.”

The room beyond them falls silent.

“He’ll have passed out now,” Jihan says softly and Namjoon releases his grip on the door.

Namjoon fixes Jihan with a focused gaze, “Try them both - both Jimin and Jiho. This shit needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung has not passed out. Instead, he lies on his bed, naked and listening.

As his friends creep away, he resolves to find other ways to cope: the drinking has to stop. That’s the end of the night’s clarity for Taehyung. He stares at the flat blackness of the ceiling until he finds depth there and then the void swallows him whole, as it always does, as it always has, even when he was only a small child. It’s always been there. He both hates and trusts it. In the chaos of his mind, it’s the only thing that brings relief, and sometimes Taehyung wants nothing more than to silence his thoughts.

Taehyung’s mind has sometimes been a dark place, sometimes a bright one, but always, no matter his mood, it races, always working, working, working, filled with thought and raw feeling. There was obsession; there was lust, a mad passionate consuming desire; there was need; there was a hole that needed filling; there was satisfaction. There were all these things and more and nothing was ever enough for him. But then there was you and his world was reshaped, reformed, rebuilt.

His existence didn’t explode, the sphere of his days did not tilt on its axis because you came into his life. Instead, you crept up on him like frost at the turning of the seasons. In feather-soft flurries you flittered through his days, he barely noticed until those insatiable fires in him were quelled beneath the pure white blanket you spread beneath his feet. Taehyung had charged through life before you, eyes fixed ahead; now he treads softly in the world you have made anew for him.

He still burns intensely, but it is a different hue: the scarlet inferno, the fiery, empty chasm of his heart is no more. Instead, a blue flame flickers and dances, small and serene, yet it’s looks deceive, it is known that the azure heart of the flame is the most intense. Taehyung knows that it is a lie that winter is cold and that blue is the colour of unhappiness: the final season of the year has always been his favourite. You are his winter, his fresh snow, his clear day, his warm, blue flame.

Once there was chaos, emptiness and pain but then there was you and then there was wholeness; peace, joy and love.

Now, without you, there’s nothing, and chaos has come again.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“You’re not serious?” scoffs Ellie, throwing a disbelieving look at Jihan beside her, “Come off it Jiho - you had a whole campaign against Taehyung and now you say you don’t know anything?”

Jiho sighs, “I really don’t know anything, I was told something about Taehyung, I guessed what it might mean and I was wrong or whatever… that’s it.”

Jihan’s eyes narrow, “Ah, but how did you find out you were wrong?”

Jiho pauses before he mentions your name, punctuated with a heavy sigh, “…Yeah, she told me. She told me she knew everything and whatever I thought was wrong. She said she had a big trip and that she didn’t want me bothering Taehyung while she was gone.”

“So after the fight in the club, you’re just going to leave it?” Ellie says, with more disbelief.

“I’m not an asshole,” Jiho argues, nostrils flaring, “All I wanted was to look out for a friend, she knows the truth now, whatever that might be and that’s fine. As long as she’s safe and happy that’s all I care about. I trust her to do the right thing. I mean, I don’t like Kim Taehyung, but whatever man, she loves him so…”

Ellie moves to speak, but Jihan shoots her a look, “That’s cool,” he says gently, “When she gets back hopefully everything will be cool.”

As they leave, Ellie quizzes him about why he quietened her down, “Whatever is going on, Jiho doesn’t know about it and given his suspicions about Tae, I say we keep it that way,” Jihan explains.

Ellie nods grimly as they head towards your office to seek Park Jimin, who is avoiding everyone’s calls.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Jimin is a creature of habit and so when he leaves work at the end of the day to head to his gym, he finds Jihan waiting for him in the changing rooms.

“You were busy when Ellie and I came to the office,” Jihan explains smoothly, “So I thought I’d try you here.”

“So desperate to see me,” Jimin laughs, his bravado not fully convincing, “I am popular nowadays.”

Jihan hums thoughtfully before he outlines the dilemma: You’ve disappeared on a “work trip” nobody knows anything about and in your now three-week absence, Taehyung is having a complete meltdown and won’t speak to anyone, withdrawing completely within himself.

“So, do you know what’s going on?” Jihan presses.

With a deep breath, Jimin turns from stowing his things in a locker and begins talking.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Well?” Ellie asks impatiently when Jihan joins her outside the gym, “Did he talk?”

“He explained about why the trip was so sudden and how it’s not suspicious, apparently,” Jihan recounts, “Then he claimed to know absolutely nothing about anything else.”

“Claimed?” asks Ellie, cocking an eyebrow.

Jihan laughs dryly, “Exactly. I don’t believe a word about this work trip and I think that slippery little fucker knows everything, but he’s not telling.”

Within the gym, Jimin sits on the changing room bench, drinking water and breathing heavily after his workout. He’s pretty certain Jihan didn’t believe a word he said but what can he do? After this, does it even matter? Whatever bonds he was reforging with Taehyung are broken now and his friendship with you lies in tatters.

He sighs as he remembers the last words you spoke to him before you left for your trip, “Just tell anyone who asks that it’s for work and don’t tell anyone about Taehyung. Make sure they keep their mouths shut.” He foolishly asked you if you could forgive him for not telling you about Yideum and you just sighed, turning your back on him and walking away.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he evaluates the whole mess. Is that what you’ve done with Taehyung? Have you walked away? If so, why are you still protecting him? Jimin is conflicted; the sensible part of him tells him to steer clear of the whole mess, but it’s another part of him that wins out, the same part that always does: compassion. He rises to his aching feet and heads to the showers, resolving that as soon as he’s washed and dressed that he’ll head to Taehyung to see what can be done.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

With the little Jimin gave you to go on, it’s taken you weeks to get to this place and this moment. You could laugh at the irony of having travelled miles knocking on doors, only to find yourself preparing to meet your quarry only one subway station from your own house. In the middle of the busy park, your leg bounces incessantly as nervous tension pulses through you.

You try to distract yourself with your phone, replying to your friends’ messages with the same trite meaningless phrases insisting that you’re fine, that their concerns are misplaced, that you are just really busy with work and of course the final lie, that you and Taehyung are fine and that he’s just going through something else that’s private and unrelated.

You feel particularly guilty abut spouting that last lie to Ellie, but right now, you feel that there’s no other choice. The truth is too burdensome, and you must shoulder it alone. So preoccupied are you by your phone and thoughts, that you don’t register the person who sits beside you until they say your name in a questioning tone.

You turn to look at the woman beside you, oddly relieved that, pretty as she is, she looks absolutely nothing like you. You nod, “Baek Yideum?”

She smiles, but it’s forced and too tight, “That’s me.”

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me and coming all this way,” you say, “I really do need to talk to you about what happened with Kim Taehyung: I have questions only you can answer and I think some answers you might need too,” you draw breath at the end, your rehearsed speech falling out of you in an anxious tumbling of words.

Yideum’s smile becomes tighter, “It was no effort. No offence, but I don’t want this conversation on my own doorstep,” she regards you, her eyes colder than you’d expected, “I don’t need any answers. I know exactly what you’re going to say.”

You stare at her, open mouthed, “How?”

“You’re going to tell me that he drugged me,” she sighs, with an airy, dismissive flutter of her hand and you note the wedding ring there, “I know.”

You can only stare, mouth agape for long moments before you find your voice, “How do you know?”

She smiles tiredly, “Because he didn’t do it very well.”

Over the course of the next few hours she goes into torturous detail about Taehyung and his childhood. His controlling father, the way he and his mother were medicated to deal with every issue from slight stress to helping them sleep at night: a chemical solution for every problem. She tells you how each time Taehyung would drug her that she’d be sleepy but not actually comatose, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. She is insistent that while she slept he did nothing but lay beside her, a shy hand occasionally resting on her hip, telling her how special she was to him and divulging all his turbulent thoughts and feelings about his complicated home life and difficult relationship with his parents, things he could never tell anyone, before he’d eventually fall asleep. It never bothered her, she thought it was sweet and a little sad. Taehyung was always a lonely boy, a sadness sitting on him that broke her heart. She admits it was only with time and experience that she realised he’d turned to chemical support to lure her into tiredness and by then it was only a distant memory.

“So what is it you want from me?” she asks, “Because I won’t admit this to another person and I certainly won’t report him.”

“Even if he’s done it to someone else?” You probe.

She stares into your eyes, evaluating you, “To you?” she asks, “Harmfully?”

“To me,” you say, lifting your chin defiantly, “Isn’t any drugging harmful?”

She clicks her tongue, appraising you as though you are naive, “Not if there’s no harm intended and not if that person is troubled and was raised that way. He was brought up believing that it was a solution - a fucked up one I warrant, but a solution nonetheless.”

You say nothing, your mind spinning as she continues to search your face, processing the emotions that cross it, “Don’t report him,” she asks, “It would be too cruel. If you love him, you know that’s not the right solution.”

“Who says I love him?” You ask, unsure of the answer yourself.

“If you didn’t you’d have gone to the police and would have let them find me,” she asserts astutely, “Anyway, it’s written all over your face. You’re here because you want a reason not to stop.”

“I can’t trust him,” you say without thinking, “I can’t keep loving him.”

She rolls her eyes at you, “You think you have a choice? Don’t be stupid.”

You only frown in response; you anxiously ran through this conversation from every angle you could think of before you arrived here today and not once did you think it would play out this way.

She takes a breath, standing up nod smoothing out the creases and wrinkles in her skirt, “If you go to the police I will deny everything. Does Taehyung know you’re here? I’m guessing he doesn’t.”

You shake your head, feeling small and diminished.

“He told you what happened, yes?” she asks, and you simply nod, “So, he’s been honest with you, and you sneak off without telling him. Maybe it’s him that can’t trust you.”

You look at her in betrayal, but it’s too late, she’s already walking away. For the first time, you now understand what it feels like for someone to turn their back on you and leave.

“Talk to him,” she calls back, without looking at you, “He doesn’t love easily and so if he loves you you’re very lucky indeed.”

Trembling with feelings you’re not yet able to name, you stand up and stride in the other direction, focusing only on following your feet while your brain and body processes the emotions flooding through you. You can never outrun your own mind though, and finally, when the elevator doors close behind you, your panic closes in on you, smothering you in its loveless embrace.

Hours later, past the white hot anxiety that had burned through you, your emotions settle into one coherent feeling: outrage. You are lucky, she said… Lucky? How can you be lucky to be in love with a man who sedated you into spending time with him? You pace your hotel room disgusted at the insinuation. You know you should just go home, but you can’t face it yet.

Fuck this, you think, the walls starting to close in, I need a drink. Tidying yourself up and trying to make yourself feel pretty, you head to the nearest bar.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“You’re so fucking hot,” the words confuse you - you’re not hot, he is: his breath warm and sticky against your neck where he leans in. You blink slowly, your eyes heavy and swallow, your tongue feeling too thick in your mouth. You realise, with painful clarity like a slap across the face, how drunk you’ve gotten and wonder when one drink at this nameless dive bar became eight, or was it more?

Who is this letch? This grotesque, sweaty man pawing at you? His hand is on your shoulder, the other gripping the back of your barstool, you can feel his tense knuckles grazing your back, the tendons like wires. With the same immediacy as understanding how drunk you are, you now understand you’re not very safe. This man, this determined man, has something about him that puts you on edge: his grip is too tight, his smile too wide, his actions too deliberate. You castigate yourself for flirting back with him, at the time it had felt like a harmless action to take your mind off Taehyung, Yideum and the whole mess, not the lead up to whatever this man is now expecting.

Deliberately, as he pulls back, you giggle, covering your mouth and deliberately smudging your lipstick. You rarely wear it, you’re grateful you did tonight. Laughing, you examine your stained fingers and touch your chin where the stain ends, “I have to clean myself up,” you say lightly, grabbing your bag.

“Don’t be too long,” he states, his voice low and much more a warning than the seductive tone he may be aiming for and it chills your blood. He squeezes your shoulder, letting his hand fall away, deliberately grazing your breast: you force yourself not to react as he winks at you, “I’ll guard your drink.”

It takes all the effort you have not to run to the toilets. When you get there, you hole yourself up in the farthest cubicle and take out your phone.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung wakes from his doze instantly, the song emitting from his phone instantly recognisable. He squints in the darkness for the glowing rectangle of light and scrambles to pick up, speaking without thought, “Baby?”

“Taehyung, I’ve done something stupid,” you say shakily, your voice trembling, then you tell him about the drinking and the bar and how afraid you are.

Taehyung wants to tell you to send him your location and he’ll be there, but no, he thinks… Will you even want that? You probably want Minho or Jihoon and can’t get hold of them. Maybe Namjoon is home? So instead he says, “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Your next words kindle the dying embers of hope in his heart, “I’ll send you my location, would you please come get me?”

Taehyung smiles in joy and relief, already on his feet and heading to the door, “Leave the toilets,” he commands, “You’re not safe there, he might come looking. Head to the kitchens, or the back room, somewhere with staff, somewhere safe, and tell them I’m coming.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

It doesn’t take Taehyung long to get there, and when he enters the bar, he spots the sleaze that had been hitting on you immediately. He measures the man up and wonders precisely how drunk you are, you are leagues above this toad. Following the nod from the bartender and your garbled text messages, he knows you’re in the kitchens and so heads immediately there, reading your directions.

He pushes on the swing door with more force than he intended, meaning you and the waitress you’ve been chatting to both look up. His eyes, wide with concern, meet yours hazy, tear-filled ones. Before he can blink, you’re off your feet and barrelling into his arms. He holds you tightly, your face pressed into his chest and kisses the top of your head, “You’re here,” you mumble, muffled by his hoodie pressed into your mouth.

“I’m here,” he confirms, “It’s ok.”

You just cry softly into him in response, “Shall I take you home?” he asks softly.

“Can’t face it,” you answer honestly, fishing your hotel key card out of your back pocket, “Please take me to my hotel.”

Taehyung does. He leads you out of the bar by the back door, thanking the waitress and drives you to the hotel. When he gets you there he hesitates until you ask him to take you to your room and again at the threshold. You knot your hands in his hoodie, “Please, please stay with me.”

“You’re safe here, baby,” Taehyung makes himself say, “I’m not sure I should.”

You look at him, dazed, confused but also vulnerable and you speak the truth as you feel it in this moment, “It’s so fucking stupid of me but I feel safe with you.”

He beams at you, the second clause deafening him to the first, “Then I’ll stay - whatever you want.”

You change in the bathroom as he strips to his boxers and a tee, obviously there’s only one bed and he smiles wryly at the trope before his heart sinks, of course there’ll be no romantic night for him, he feels stupid even hoping for it. With a heavy tread and heart, he trudges to the small sofa with the thin decorative blanket that lay atop the duvet bed, folding himself up, pretzel-like.

Taehyung doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so he faces the back of the sofa, away from you and the bed. He even pretends to be asleep when you emerge from the bathroom. You’re drunk still, your steps flat-footed as you try to move quietly to the bed; at the last moment, you divert and he can feel you standing over him, his heart begins to race. He can’t control the shudder as you run your index finger, your nail scratching him lightly, down his exposed spine.

“Taehyung,” you whisper softly, “Come to bed.”

He doesn’t move, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re drunk, in the morning you might regret waking up beside me.”

He hears you huff and then movement as you crouch beside him. This time it’s his gasp that he can’t contain as your soft lips trace the same line as your finger did, “Please,” you mumble into his skin before you pull back, he misses you immediately and it’s an ordeal for him not to flip over and pull you into his arms, “I know we’re not in a good place and I have a lot of thinking to do, but can’t we be friends for a moment?” you sound so forlorn that his heart aches with yours.

“I’m always your friend,” he promises, turning over to find your face closer than he expected. Your wide, teary eyes met his own gleaming ones and then your mouth is on his. He reacts instinctively, wrapping his arms about you and half-guides, half-drags you on top of him as your kisses deepen. Your tongue creeps into his mouth, shyly at first, then more demanding. He knows it’s a bad idea, but he has missed you and can’t hold himself back or bring himself to reject you when you two are so vulnerable.

His stiffening cock seems to act as an alarm bell to you, as you finally break away from him, seemingly shocked with yourself, “Taehyung, I- ” you falter.

“It’s not a good idea, I know,” he interrupts, saving you from your embarrassment, “Let’s just sleep, yeah?”

Helping you to your feet and surreptitiously adjusting his underwear, he follows you to bed. He lies on his back, arm outstretched and you immediately snuggle into the crook of his arm, one arm tucked between your bodies, the other on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his tee. Gingerly and with more caution than he’s ever used with you, he places his hand on your shoulder and interweaves the fingers of his other with your hand that rests on his chest, relief flooding through him when you hum happily and burrow into him.

He won’t sleep easily in this position, but you will, and that’s all that matters to him. He kisses the top of your head as your breath becomes more shallow and deep; he’s glad you’re relaxing but he won’t. Despite your call and your kisses, Taehyung feels more certain than he did before that this may be the last time he gets to hold you: he won’t waste those precious moments sleeping.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Only a few hours later, you awaken, thirsty and head pounding. Taehyung releases your fingers as you pull away, immediately asking if you’re ok.

“’m fine,” you mumble tiredly, heaving yourself up and dragging your body out of bed to retrieve water and painkillers, “Hangover is hitting,” you explain as he mumbles sympathy.

Bathroom visited, pills taken and a hefty glug of water later, you return to bed, padding more gracefully than you did hours earlier, “Have you even slept?” you ask as he yawns widely, he just shakes his head.

“Silly boy,” you reprimand fondly, laying on your side, back to him, knowing how he likes to sleep, “Spoon me,” you demand.

You can feel his hesitance but he complies, and you lay still until his breathing evens out and his pouted lips huff little, soft breaths against your neck. More sober now, your mind races on what to do next and you force yourself to acknowledge that whatever else may be true, that Taehyung may be some kind of predator, that he abused your trust, that he’s troubled, that he’s lied… that you are nonetheless happiest in his arms.

Knowing that all the realities will have to be reconciled into one, new truth, you put them to one side, wisely or not, choosing to enjoy the moment in his arms.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

When he wakes up in the morning, you’re already showered and are bedecked in a fluffy hotel robe. You perch at the end of the bed, seemingly waiting for something.

As he rubs his eyes sleepily, you tell him breakfast is on the way and direct him to the shower. When he returns, clean and a little more alive, the food has already arrived and you sit with him on the tiny sofa, made even smaller by your fuzzy robes, eating croissants and fruit in a not-altogether-comfortable silence.

“I’m sorry that you had to come get me last night -” you begin.

“I’m glad you called,” he interrupts earnestly, choking a little as he swallows his food too quickly in his desire to reassure you.

Your instincts clearly get the better of you as you rush to him, concerned, water pushed into his hand before you rub his back gently. After a long drink and several shuddering breaths, he recovers himself. In an action-replay of the night before, you’re crouched beside him, looking at him in concern.

“I’m ok,” he smiles, his eyes watery, “Don’t worry.”

“I always worry about you,” you reply softly and you both take a moment to ponder all that those words could mean, looking into each other’s eyes in a mixture of hope, love and despair.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, looking away, feeling stupid the second that the words are out of his mouth; it’s by far too little.

His attention is drawn back to you by your small huff, unable to tell if it’s scoffing, exasperated or something else and yet again his eyes fill. You thumb his tears away, though his contented hum strangles in his raw throat as you move upwards, undoing his robe, and laying him bare as you, still wrapped tightly in yours, straddle his lap.

Shocked, Taehyung freezes, half-whispering, half-moaning your name, “Is this a good idea?”

You smile and he doesn’t recognise it at all; he’s never seen you so seductive, “No, it isn’t,” you purr and his cock twitches, “But I want it anyway.”

“Want what?” He teases, trying to sound innocent, an endeavour made even more difficult as you move closer and your bare thighs glide against his.

“You,” you say simply, ducking down to kiss his neck while his hands fist into your robe, his cock throbbing and twitching between you. Your kisses quickly become more fierce as you nip and suck the sensitive skin beneath his ear; he shudders pleasurably and soon his cock, hard and weeping, skims against you. It takes all his self control not to lift you, throw you on the bed and to sink inside you, but he knows you need this. You need to use him: he’ll let you.

Moments later, you pull back and smile, clambering off him. He watches as you tidy away the breakfast dishes, pushing the cart into the hall before you hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. As the door closes, you call to him without looking, “Lie on the bed please, robe off.”

He moves swiftly, shrugging off the robe and stretching out on the bed, slightly nervous and suddenly shy of his nudity. His trepidation grows when reach for his discarded robe, loosing the fluffy belt from it’s loops and approaching him. His breath trembles as you straddle him, raising and eyebrow with outstretched hands. He can do nothing but comply, offering you his shaking hands as you gently, but tightly, bind them and affix them to the headboard.

“No touching,” you whisper in his ear, biting on his ear lobe as you slide back down his body, taking a seat on his thighs, “Are you ok with this?” you ask, the real you, beneath the sexy bravado, peeking through.

He smiles reassuringly, “You can do whatever you want to me,” he promises, “I love you, I’m yours.”

Your eyes fill and he wonders if the moment is passing and you’re changing your mind. He knows what this is, it’s not really sex, though he’ll give you everything he’s got… No, when he looks at you he knows this is goodbye.

“It’s ok,” he almost whispers. You smile back, bright and real, and he knows he’s reassured you as you regain your confidence.

You lean over him and kiss his cheek, so gently and lightly he might have dreamed it; he smiles because, whatever else is troubling you, whatever else you plan to do, you still feel tenderness towards him and that’s all his broken heart could hope for. Taehyung knows he’s lost you, all he can hope for now is some sweetness in the bitterness of parting from you.

Your featherlight kisses and caresses continue all over his body, your fingers tracing circles on his clavicle, chest, hipbones and stomach. After a while, he realises you’re deliberately teasing him as he gets more turned on; you seem to be deliberately avoiding any area that might excite him more.

“Please,” he pleads desperately; you only smile softly in response. You continue your torture now, but allow your trailing fingers to skim his nipples, his cock, his balls and he wonders if this is somehow worse, to be touched where he needs it most but so lightly and without purpose. It drives him mad, and you shift more of your weight onto his thighs from your knees to keep him in place as he gently bucks his hips up towards you, aching for your touch.

“Stop it,” you warn, your voice low, “This is my party…”

He gulps and nods compliantly. His cock aches and everything you do makes his cock impossibly harder, his balls tightening. He focuses his attention on thinking how hard he’s going to fuck you when you finally cede control to him.

He sucks in a deep breath as you change strategy: now you only concentrate on his sensitive areas, sucking and nibbling at his earlobe as you tease his nipples, your fingers firmer and rougher with him than before. He realises now as he gasps, that before you were silent, but no you moan into him as you lavish attention on him. After what feel an eternity of more torture, you slide down his body and begin to roll his balls, tugging gently as you kiss his soft, flat stomach that trembles beneath the pillowy touch of your lips.

You seem to take pity on him when his moans turn to whines, and finally untie your robe, discarding it. His eyes drink in your naked body, his gaze so fixed on you that it’s a surprise when you finally grasp his cock, rubbing his throbbing head, beaded with pre-cum, along your slit before you lower yourself enough for just the tip to enter you.

“Fuck…” Taehyung moans, fighting with everything he has not to jerk his hips and fill you up. Then you raise off him, and he stutters in agony, “No, no, please, don’t stop…”

Ever generous, ever the kind, beautiful love of his life, you repeat the motion, again and again giving him all the joy of entering you and all the agony of you pulling away. He loves it and hates it but cannot deny that he’s never been harder in his life.

He watches, eyes glued on where you and he join as you slowly sink further on to him, sinking an inch and rising, then sinking a little more… It’s still torturous but the bliss of being inside you overrides it; your tight warm walls barely yield to him and like this he gets to stretch you out again and again, the warmth of you even more delicious from the chill of the room. He can’t imagine fucking anyone who isn’t you… A sob rises in his chest at the thought but is halted when you sink onto him completely, his cock filling you his tight balls pressed against your ass.

“Please don’t move,” he begs when your hands splay across his chest, “I’ll come...”

“Take your time,” you smile, rubbing his hips and he hisses through his teeth and tries not to blow his load - you’re not even fucking clenching, he thinks, and still he’s struggling to hold on, God he loves you and and your perfect cunt.

Several deep breaths later, he controls himself, “I’m good…” he assures, “Take me.”

You grin and begin to ride him at a slow steady pace, nothing special, just gentle movements up and down on his cock, occasionally teasing him by only tae the first few inches, but then riding it to the base where you pause: each time has him biting his lip as he tries not to blow his load.

He grins when, after at least ten minutes of riding him, you start to lose control yourself, fucking him harder, and stopping him from coming by letting him almost slide out of you before you slam back down. “I’m so close,” he admits, as much as he wants to come, he wants you to have your fun.

In response, you sink fully onto him, “Hold it,” you demand, before you stop riding him and grind against him, back and forth and with gentle circular motions in between. It’s the best he’s ever felt.

“Need to come,” he whines, “Please, let me…”

“Come for me,” you allow, not stopping your grind. He explodes within you as you clench around his cock, the thickest ropes of cum he’s ever released spurting inside you. The bliss and relief is earth-shattering, but strangely it doesn’t stop… usually it’s a few seconds of pure euphoria, but as you grind against him, those moments seem to spread out, his orgasm pulled along with the undulation of your hips.

He groans your name, louder and more needily than ever before, his hips stuttering as sweat beads his brow and upper lip as his orgasm itself becomes too much to handle. He can’t even speak, you’ve fucked him stupid.

You’re gentle though, you take in his pained expression, “Had enough?” you ask gently, and he nods meekly as you gently slide off him, careful not to hurt his incredibly sensitive softening cock, rolling off the bed and departing to the bathroom with your robe to clean yourself up while he swallows deep mouthfuls of air.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Long minutes later, feeling clean again after the load Taehyung pumped into you, you cool your flushed face and smile at yourself, feeling proud of yourself for fucking him senseless. It’s then that you’re pulled from your thoughts by a gentle tap at the bathroom door, instinctively pulling your robe tighter around you, you call, “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asks meekly, and you can’t help but smile, wondering how long it took him to free himself from your bindings.

“Go ahead,” you say, washing your hands as a distraction from your racing heart. He enters the room and stands behind you, moving your hair and the neck of the robe so he can kiss your neck gently, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“That was something else,” he blushes as you colour in response, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you laugh, both of you strangely uncomfortable.

Your eyes meet again, “I want to make you come,” Taehyung states plainly as you gape a little in shock, “May I?”

You make a strange gurgling noise that makes him cock an eyebrow at you, and so you have to mutely nod, he grins then his grip on your waist turning you to face him before lifting you onto the counter and sinking to his knees.

He looks up at you with wide eyes before kissing your ankle, trailing soft kisses all the way up your leg to the top of your thighs, making you shudder and tremble for him. When he reaches the very top, he suddenly bites down harshly, causing you to cry out, and he sucks a massive hickie into the soft flesh, your core throbs, desire running through your body and wetness seeping through your folds. Smirking against your skin, he places a delicate kiss before he pulls you forward, his nose grazing your throbbing clit.

With broad strokes of his flattened tongue, he licks all around your folds, working his way inwards, deliberately teasing you as you did him. He licks all round, until he reaches our perineum and presses his tongue against you firstly, causing you to moan, surprising you when his firm, stretched tongue pushes into your vagina as he tongue fucks you.

You cry out his name as you grip the edge of the counter, begging for mercy. He complies, licking a broad stripe up your vagina and circling your neglected clit with his tongue. His cock is hard again and he’s too horny to torture you for long so soon he sucks your clit into his mouth, first flicking hip tongue rapidly and then nibbling. Then he begins to suck harshly as he penetrates you with two fingers. He curls his long digits as he fucks you, aiming for that sweet, spongy spot that makes you scream, pounding into you as you cry out, his lips almost numb from the onslaught he’s subjecting you too.

You chant his name in a mantra as your orgasm consumes you, bucking against his face then withdrawing in sensitivity as you come down from your high. Taehyung simply grins up at your dazed, blissed-out expression, licking his lips lasciviously. though, even in your heady state, you can see his hard cock through the folds of his gown.

You know time is running out and in your desperation you seek to turn moments into minutes and minutes into hours so you can hold on to him that little bit longer.

“Taehyung,” you say softly, “I need you inside me.”

He’s swiftly on his feet, undoing and shrugging off his robe before he unties yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he grips the underside of your thighs, carrying your naked body back to the bed.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Your arms can barely keep a grip of his shoulders as you seek to anchor yourself, getting lost in Taehyung and the pleasure of him pounding into you.

You’re past been being able to speak: you can only pant and moan and mewl variations of his name as he groans into you, similarly fuck-drunk and incoherent in his lust. He’s everywhere: his mouth sucking at your throat, one hand kneading your breast roughly, the other pressing your thigh into your body as his cock grazes your cervix, his strokes brutal and deep.

You cling to him, and realise you’re not anchoring yourself, you’re only being borne further from shore: you want to be lost in Taehyung, you want to be joined with him like this, always.

Again, he takes you over the edge and your spasming walls choke his cock, causing him to burble a strangled moan as he fucks you all the harder for it, your whole body shaking as he thrusts into you with all the he force he can muster.

You hands roam the delicate curves of his back, feeling the powerful muscles flexing there before your hand knots in his hair, bucking your hips up into him as best you can, clenching your walls around him as you come down from your high.

“Coming,” he finally grunts in warning.

“Fill me,” you beg. He does, thrusting deep, your bodies seemingly glued together, tight balls pressed to your ass as his hot cum spills into you. He moans, deep, low and throaty as you scream for him, coming again, your climax tearing through you.

Finally, spent and exhausted, you relax your tight hold on each other, Taehyung slipping out of you with a wince, and pulling you into his sweaty embrace as he you both pant weakly. He smooths your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead as you both regain your senses.

Minutes later you shower together in tired, sated silence before you trudge to the comfort of the bed, climbing beneath the cum-stained duvet to fall heavily into each other’s arms.

You watch him as he sleeps. He may be done in, but his sleep is not entirely peaceful, his brow knotted and mouth twisting as he dreams uncomfortably.

You kiss his eyelids and stroke his soft locks, whispering soothing words of comfort in the hope it will reach his subconscious mind. Is this what he did with you? You wonder, and for the first time the thought doesn’t sicken you as you begin to try to understand how you really feel about him.

Your mind has sometimes been a troubled place, sometimes a light one, but always, no matter your mood, it races, always working, working, working, filled with thought and raw feeling: there was fear; there was panic; there was a loud critical voice always berating you and making you second guess yourself; there was a yearning for love but a terror of what it might mean; there was loneliness. There were all these things but there was also friendship, laughter, kindness and patience but nothing was ever enough to calm the furious beating of your terrified rabbit heart. But then there was him and your world was reshaped, reformed, rebuilt.

Your existence didn’t explode, the sphere of your days did not tilt on its axis because he came into your life. Instead, with wily tenacity, he crept up on you like the turning of the seasons. The burning heart of Taehyung surely and determinedly melted the icy box in which you contained your heart. It trembled within, like a little bird, but he could see its need through those glass-like walls and so he warmed his way in. Before Taehyung, you experienced life at a distance, keeping everything, even joy, at arm’s length; now your fragile heart, exposed in all its vulnerability, has learnt what it is to be consumed again.

You still know fear, anxiety and panic; those things will never, can never, leave you, but since Taehyung they have changed, their grip has not been so tight nor have you felt quite so alone. Taehyung has taken your heart and wrapped himself around it, building a bower for the two of you filled with hope and life. He is your spring, your fresh start, your new day, your sun-filled clear sky.

Once there was terror and a world clouded by your desperate need to protect yourself but then was Taehyung and then then there was wholeness; peace, joy and love.

Now, facing life without him, what is left?

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

It took an age for you to settle to sleep, but eventually you did, burrowing into his hold and smiling as, even in sleep, he wraps himself, sloth-like, around you. Sleep finds you then and pulls you into its depths, soothing your conflicted mind and repairing your aching body.

When you wake, hours later, the sun is low in the sky. You stagger from the bed in search of water, smiling in the orange glow of light at the sound of gentle birdsong in the last warmth of the day. Filling your glass at the bathroom sink, you wonder where to begin with Taehyung. You don’t know where you’re going next, but you’re certain that the path ahead is together.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you return to the bedroom and realise for the first time that the bed is empty.

He’s gone.

Your heart races suddenly, but you know the bed was still warm - maybe he just nipped out or food or something? Then your name slaps you across your face: a folded note on hotel stationery on the narrow desk. You snatch it up with trembling fingers, stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bed as you begin to read:

“Thank you for being with me one final time. You are the love of my life. I love you so fucking much - I love you TOO fucking much to put you through having to break up with me. I know we can’t be together, I know I’ve lost you. I deserve that, but you don’t deserve the pain of having to do it. Thank you for loving me - being loved by you was the only real joy I’ve ever known. Thank you for everything you’ve given me, I wish I had been worthy of it. I love you and always will.”

Your silent tears turn to wailing sobs as you reach “Goodbye, Your Taehyung,” and again the room closes in on you.

You dress quickly and in silence. There is no bar needed now, no sleaze to flirt with, the only thought in your mind for some reason you cannot explain is the pull of that birdsong and the orange light at the close of the day: you have to reach it.

Panic doesn’t come now, only numbness and shock as you move, zombie-like, through the hotel and out into the street, wandering to the park where only yesterday or a thousand years ago, you met Yideum. As your feet meet the soft grass, you kick off your shoes, digging your toes into the soft earth and walk purposefully to the river beyond. It’s there that the birdsong is loudest, in the trees that line the curving waters. Your pace quickens as you hurry there, you don’t know what answers you expect or what relief you might find, you simply follow the urge driven by the emptiness inside you.

Ivy-strewn and crumbling, a low wall edges the deep river below. It may present a glassy surface, reflecting the branches above and the orange glowing sun, but beneath the waters swirl dangerously in frigid depths. Undeterred, you clamber on to the wall, dangling your legs onto the bank below, then you freeze, leaning forward. From the other bank a crane cocks its head at you, evaluating the interloper on its territory, its thin legs picking a careful path through the shallows.

You ease yourself backwards, slowly sitting up not to startle the bird when suddenly, and bizarrely, your shoes fly past you into the river below; the startled crane has only time for a scornful glance before it beats its wings and takes to the air just as your breath is knocked out of you. Arms close tightly around you in a suffocating grip, while you’re pulled back against a strong, firm chest containing a wildly beating heart.

“What the fuck are you doing?” shrieks Taehyung, manhandling you backwards and off the wall before he releases you, leaving the two of you staring at each other in shock.

Catching your breath, you turn the question on him, “What the fuck are you doing?” you accuse, “You walk out on me, then throw my shoes at me, then yank me about? What’s going on?” There’s no anger in you, just utter confusion as you take in his red, puffy eyes and tear-thickened voice.

He shakes his head, “No, no - that’s not what happened. I was sitting over there,” he gestures vaguely to a bench not far from where you kicked your shoes off, “Then you come in and kick your shoes off - moving like a zombie heading for the river ready to chuck yourself in!”

You frown, “Chuck myself in? What?”

“I saw you!” he cries, slightly dementedly, “You were leaning forward, planning it!”

You laugh then, a genuine laugh from deep in your belly, almost folding in half, “No, you silly sod,” you wheeze, “There was a crane, and I didn’t want to startle it… I wasn’t going to drown myself, you fool!”

“Oh…” he says, diminished and made small.

“Why’d you throw my shoes in the river?” You ask, still giggling as you look in the water to see that thankfully they’ve caught in the roots of a tree.

“To distract you,” he says from behind you, his tone sheepish and embarrassed, “So I could grab you in time.”

You face him, still smiling and even though your face is tear streaked and tired, you’ve never been more beautiful to him, “Taehyung,” you say, interrupting his reverie, “I’d like my shoes back.”

Pressing his lips together he nods and accepts his punishment. You retake your seat on the wall as he carefully climbs over and retrieves your shoes with the aid of a large stick that you pass him, your mouth twitching in amusement. When your soaked shoes have been placed beside you with a flood of apologies, he takes a seat beside you and you sit together in silence.

Eventually, blinking from the bright glare of the sinking sun, you speak, “Taehyung?” you ask softly.

“Yes?” he replies with the same tender trepidation, turning to face you.

“Can I ask something else of you?” you almost mumble, your hands nervously knotting together, nails catching in your skin as you avoid his eyes.

He places one large hand over yours to soothe you, but you don’t look up, yet neither do you flinch away and his heart is gladdened, “Anything,” he confirms. What wouldn’t he give you? His heart will always be yours even if you don’t want it.

You mutter something incoherently, tears running down your face; with his other hand he cups your chin and guides your face towards his, “Say that again ba-,” he catches himself, stubbing out the word he no longer has any right to call you.

Your lip trembles, but you manage to look him in the eye, “Please don’t leave me.”

He smiles in relief, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, don’t worry,” he promises.

You sigh and cringe simultaneously, elaborating, “No, I mean, don’t break up with me.”

He frowns now, confused, “You were breaking up with me?” He utters, wondering what you mean… Do you need to be the one to do it? He breathes deeply, “I understand, I get it. You need closure, you need to be the one to do it. I’m sorry, I was trying to spare you it - but I get it. You do what you have to do.”

You roll your eyes now, almost amused, “That’s not what I’m saying,” you groan, “What I need is you. I’m asking you to be with me so we can work this out together.”

You thought that you had seen the full panoply of Taehyung smiles until this moment. The grin he offers you now is one of eye-disappearing heart-shaped pure joy and relief, “Really?” he asks.

“What we have, Taehyung,” you begin, “…I don’t want lose it because you majorly fucked up in the past. There’s a lot to do, there are things I’ll need you to do, but I want to do find our way through it.”

He softens, “I will do anything for you,” he promises, clutching on to your hands with both of his, “I love you.”

You kiss him gently, soothing his aching heart and racing pulse. In turn, he kisses you back, your own heart calming, the chill in your veins melting away, “I love you too.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Weeks later, Minho, Jihan and Jimin sit on the far wall of Minho’s roof terrace drinking; Aera and Ellie are building up the fire pit; Jessi is setting up the grill whilst Hyejin prevents Namjoon from ‘helping’; downstairs Jihoon and Jiho are putting the finishing touches to their so-called ‘legendary’ barbecue skills, marinating meat, tofu and prepping veggies.

Minho gestures towards the seating area with a tilt of his beer, where you lean into Taehyung, his arm slung around your shoulders, his mouth pressing kisses into your hair as the two of you mumble together in your own little world, “Everything seems to be ok between those two now,” he smiles, “Though it was a bit weird for a time there,” he finishes with a pointed and searching look at Jimin.

Jimin holds his hands up, “I admit I caused some chaos for a while there, but it was necessary and it’s all worked out.”

“Has it?” Minho presses, “Because I heard he’s in therapy now and the three of you went sloping off to see his mother and all sorts of strangeness - I’m just looking out for her.”

Jihan, to whom Taehyung has confessed everything, nods, “Look, Minho, Taehyung fucked up in the past ok? He didn’t do any of the things Jiho thought he’d done, but he did some seriously shitty stuff. The people who need to know, know now and he’s working on himself. He loves her, he’s no threat to her - trust me.”

“Trust us,” Jimin reinforces, “We’re with him, every step of the way and we are keeping an eye on him too.”

Minho doesn’t like not knowing, but he accepts there’s probably a reason for it. His gaze lingers on the two of you, your outlines picked out in gold from the setting sun. He has to admit that whatever has happened between you has tipped the scales of your relationship: Taehyung is no longer the dominating force he once was… to Minho things seem more balanced somehow. There seems to be a solid fulcrum between you finally: a centre that holds you both steady. He smiles as watches Taehyung interlace his fingers with yours, the two of you settling together in harmony. Minho might not know everything, but he knows what love is and what peace is and how elusive both can be… as you and Taehyung try to secretly share a giggly kiss, he knows you two have found it with each other.

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A/N: This chapter ends the story and my time writing on Tumblr for the foreseeable future - I hope one day I have more writing to share. Thanks for reading - I’d appreciate you sharing your thoughts if you’d be so kind.

Finally, a big thanks to anyone who has read and supported my writing. I really appreciate everything you’ve said and done.

Love you all,

Ffion 💛

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub #minors please don’t read

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Hello! I stumbled upon your story, TCCH, quite recently and have spent my entire Saturday reading it with rapt attention. I just wanted to say that you are an incredibly gifted writer. This world you've created has so much color and personality that it fills me with an ache to have this beautiful cast of friends who are filled with so much emotional depth and understanding for each other. You've created such raw characters that I can't even formulate proper words to explain just how beautiful the synergy of your prose is. Absolutely seamless. I understand the hardships you may feel regarding your writing, and I just wanted to share an outside perspective. You have a gift. Even if you don't continue this blog, I hope you fill your life with writing on some facet because you just never know how much it could mean to someone else. Van Gogh didn't sell any paintings in his life, and gosh he is now considered the forefather of impressionism!

And Taehyung!!! Oh my gosh! I feel this sublte mumur of horror he carries and uuuuugh you are so good in showing it through all his layers. This is honestly the most impressive work of fanfiction I have ever read. Thank you so much for sharing. Be well and be happy. ❤️

🌻

Hi 🌻!

You are far, far too kind and generous in your praise, but thank you. I honestly teared up a bit reading this; you don’t know what it means to me. As you’ve undoubtedly worked out, I can be very self-conscious about my writing and my confidence isn’t great. Still, you’re right, writing is a journey and is about progressing - I will definitely keep writing, probably snippets here and there and I hope that in time I will grow a thicker skin and have more energy to share things again on here rather than scribbling away in the dark!

I am so glad you’ve enjoyed the unfolding of this story, it’s been tough to write, but I am very fond of these characters (even the creepy ones) and it’s been fun to weave in the little clues (though I worried I’d been either too obvious or too subtle)!

Thank you for reading, and for being so generous and kind in your feedback. As ever with acts of kindness, you can never truly measure the impact of what you do, so please believe me when I say how much your feedback means to me and how much it’s affected me. so yes, all thanks are due to you, both for reading and for being so thoughtful, kind and generous.

I hope you too are happy and well and continue to be so! I also hope that when the final part drops (in the next week or so) that it won’t disappoint you!

Tysm 💛

#the most generous reader #thank you #this means everything to me #made my whole month #bts fanfic #the centre cannot hold #writer things #ffion rambles on

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ffion451 · 11 months

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Chapter Nineteen: Scars | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x f!reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️ SMUT (m/f unprotected sex rough, f>m oral sex), suggestions of dubcon (but not actual), threat, violence, intoxication, yandere and dark themes

Word count: 11.3K

A/N: This is a long chapter and very episodic with lots of dialogue because it’s the penultimate chapter and so the denouement of the story: please read the other chapters first or it won’t make sense! The end will follow in Chapter 20 soon.

<<< Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Twenty >>>

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Taehyung prompts. He may appear relaxed but you know him well enough to tell that a nervous pulse beats beneath the calm surface of his easy smile.

“It wasn’t bad at all,” you admit willingly, “You know I like your friends.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “Yeah, you love them…” you push his knee and tsk at him, “Hey! I’m driving here!” he admonishes.

You apologise, feeling a little guilty; it’s late at night and though the roads are quiet, the black tarmac shimmers dangerously under the streetlights, slick with earlier rainfall. At the roadside, guttering puddles gather, dangerous black mirrors of distortion, throwing light and glare through the windscreen. Behind the wheel, Taehyung is confident and you feel safe, you always do with him. He’s right though, you don’t exactly love all his friends, in fact, you don’t even like most of them. Yet the dinner had been pleasant, probably because it was hosted by your favourite of all his people, the warm-hearted Jihan.

Forgiven with a gracious nod of Taehyung’s head, you continue defending yourself, “I love Jihan, he’s great! I like Hyungsik too - he’s really sweet,” you protest, before drawing a breath and pausing, “…Yeah, it’s true that I find Seojun and Choi Minho a little intimidating but I don’t dislike them. Anyway, all that matters is that they all love you and so I love them for that.”

Taehyung glances at you, “You’re adorable,” he says in a mixture of teasing and genuine infatuation.

You blush under his attention, “Stop it. Anyway, I’ll call it a success as long as you think it went well.”

Taehyung smiles, “Of course it did - and it’s sweet of you to make excuses about Minho when we both know he’s an ass, but even he was bowled over by you,” he beams, laying his hand on your bare knee, “Of course he would be. You’re amazing.”

You brush off the compliment, but you’re pleased the evening was a success. You’d been so nervous beforehand, the scalding water of your shower unable to wash the panic off you. You’d scrubbed yourself, breath ragged, as your mind conjured a million scenarios, each as improbable as the next for getting you out of going. Illness, an accident, an emergency… All these and more occurred to you and were just as quickly dismissed. Instead, you’d ploughed through the panic, trembling hands applying your makeup because you knew you had to do it for Taehyung. You know how hard he has worked to make relationships with your friends and so were determined not to let him down with his. Any final desperate thoughts of escape were silenced by the guilt and obligation you feel, which has only grown after you got back from your business trip last weekend.

As soon as you got home, you headed to your room to find him asleep in your bed, as he promised he would be. The first thing you did when his sleepy, puffy eyes opened and he smiled to see you was to confess about Jimin, your conscience crying out under the weight of your secret. To your surprise, he was calm and relaxed. Yawning, he took you in his arms, comforting you with promises to support you in all your decisions, telling you that he trusts your judgement. He even thanked you for your honesty. You’d been struck dumb: in the face of such kindness and generosity, being sociable with his friends is the least you can do for him in return.

You lay your hand over his, interlacing your fingers, “I’m just glad I didn’t show you up,” you say softly.

“Baby, you could never!” he exclaims, squeezing your knee, “You’re perfect. Anyway, you know I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think, right? Not when it comes to you - you’re everything to me. You come first.”

“I love you, Tae,” is all you can think to say. It’s enough; it’s the only thing that matters.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiles, his hand drifting further up your thigh as you get closer to his house, “How tired are you?” he asks, trying to sound offhand, trying to sound innocent. He fails at both.

You suppress a smile, “Well… we have to make food for the picnic tomorrow in the morning,” you say, faking a yawn, “So I guess we have to be up quite early… To be honest, I think I’ll have to call it a night when we get in.”

You laugh internally to see Taehyung’s tense jaw as he tries to suppress his disappointment and other urges; it’s difficult to miss the tent growing in his jeans as his fingers trace circles on your inner thigh.

“Of course,” he says, trying to sound gentle, “Whatever you need,” he forces his hand back down your thigh, swallowing his frustration.

You smirk invisibly, “I know just what I need,” you say.

“Camomile tea? Long, deep soak in the bath?” he suggests helpfully, determined to be the perfect boyfriend as he swings the car into his driveway.

You smile slyly, “Sounds really good, but I dunno…” you wait until he’s out of the car, and looking at you expectantly before you speak, mimicking his offhand tone, “I think I’d prefer you balls deep inside me and a long, hard fuck...”

Wordlessly and without reaction, Taehyung swings the car door shut between you. Confused, you undo your seatbelt just as he wrenches your door open, “The mouth on you,” he mock-sighs. Then he pulls you out of the car, one arm under your knees, the other across your back.

Kicking the door shut, he quickly throws your giggling body over his shoulder, “I suppose I could manage it though,” he laughs as he stalks to the house, slapping your ass as he goes.

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The next day, barely able to walk after Taehyung had his way with you over and over and over again, you lean your aching back against a smooth sun-warmed tree trunk, your legs stretched out in front of you. Taehyung lies, snoozing gently, at a 90 degree angle to you, his head in your lap as you play with the strands of his tousled hair.

Warm in the sunshine and full of cold beer and good food, your friends fall into an easy peacefulness as the large park is suffused in a golden glow, that famed light that precedes the setting sun. A look around the group fills your heart: Ellie and Jihan chat and flirt, their rekindled relationship beginning to bud afresh; Aera and Minho do a puzzle together, squabbling cutely; Jimin and Jessi laugh together about your imbecilic colleagues at work...

Yes, that had been interesting… You’d been surprised, but pleased, when Taehyung suggested that you should invite Jimin. He’s your friend now, he’d said, We can get along for your sake. The past is the past. You didn’t question him too much on it, and why should you? There’d been no friction between them at all today, though they mostly avoided talking to each other.

Yet that’s not to say that the day has been tension free. No, the tension has been palpable at times but it’s coming from the fourth group sat on the large outdoor rug: smiling expansively, Jihoon may be his usual relaxed self, but the man beside him is quite different. Coiled in on himself, Jiho has not been able to control the death glares he has thrown Taehyung’s way all day, his cold gaze enough to make a cobra quail. To Taehyung’s credit, he’s borne it well, but you are getting increasingly annoyed with your friend’s behaviour. You’re not sure why he hates Taehyung so much, if you can move past things, why can’t he? The only conclusion you can reach is that he’s angry with you both, and better at hiding his irritation when it comes to you: you decide he must think you’ve treated Siwon badly. The thought embarrasses you and makes you ashamed even though you can’t work out how you’ve erred. It doesn’t matter though, you blame yourself for his mood and it stops you from confronting him when you ought to.

You turn your attention away from him, your gaze resting on the improbable geometry of Taehyung’s face: the straight line of his nose and brows, the curve of his cheekbones, the smooth plain of his cheeks and brow, the defined angle of his jaw. Pygmalion could not have conceived a more perfect face, yet Taehyung is no cold, blue-veined marble statue, instead he is everything warm and gentle. In the swan song of the day’s light, his golden skin glows in all it’s rich, honey-toned hue.

Across from you, Jiho reads the look on your face as you regard your boyfriend. In the years he’s known you, he’s never seen you look at anyone like that. Obviously, you’re awestruck, that’s to be expected; Jiho might dislike Taehyung but he’s not blind, he knows how devastatingly handsome the irritating prick is. What he sees that is new to him is the scale of your love, boundless and expansive as the golden sky above. If he didn’t know it before, today has illuminated that you are so in love with Taehyung, too in love with him, and he knows he has to save you from it. As he watches you, Taehyung’s eyes flutter open and fix on yours, the two of you rapt with each other. You’re fucked, Jiho thinks, you couldn’t be more deeply ensnared by this bastard.

Jion calls your name, pulling your attention to him while Taehyung sits up beside you, shifting positions with you so that he leans against the tree allowing you recline between his legs, resting on his chest. “I never heard the story of how you two got together,” he smiles. It’s the smile of a shark, dangerous and sharp, “When I left you two weren’t speaking.”

You squirm a little; you don’t want to mention Jihoon’s interference, knowing Jiho will see it as a betrayal. While your brain whirrs, Taehyung speaks, “It’s well know that for a long time I was a complete dickhead,” Taehyung begins to gentle laughs of agreement from the rest of your friends; they have seen the day’s building tension with Jiho and now wait to see what unfolds, focusing their attention on the two men ans away from each other.

“So, I was devastated that she cut me out of her life, and thought that I hated her,” he admits, knowing Jiho has seen him treat you horribly. He glosses over unhelpful details and gilds others, “It dragged on for so long and the pain didn’t go anywhere no matter how long we went without speaking. It didn’t make sense to me why it hurt so much and never any less. Then one day a friend opened my eyes and suggested that maybe I was in love, then it all made sense.”

“Who was the friend?” quizzes Jiho.

“Jihan,” Taehyung lies smoothly; it’s not a complete lie, Jihan had always said there was more to Taehyung’s feelings, but he wouldn’t listen.

Jiho turns his attention to Jihan, who, like Tae, lies to protect Jihoon, “Well, everyone knew, didn’t they? Except these two fools,” he says kindly, gesturing at you and Taehyung.

Jihoon can’t let himself be completely absolved from his role, nor does he want to be. He interrupts, “And I told Jihan when we were drunk one night that the reason she cut Taehyung out was because she was in love with him.”

Jihan smiles gratefully at Jihoon, “I knew then that these two just needed a push so I told Taehyung and he took it from there.”

Taehyung smiles and picks up the story, “So I caught up with her at a party, told her I loved her and that I knew she loved me and we went from there,” Taehyung grins, “I’ll spare you the details.”

“A party?” Jiho says, “So you two hooked up when she was drunk?” he presses, shooting a meaningful look at Jimin, which nobody misses.

“Uh, no,” interrupts Jessi, clearly unimpressed with Jiho’s attitude, “I was there, they were a little tipsy but no more. And they were sober the next morning, from what I’ve heard,” she adds with a laugh.

“That’s enough of that,” you interrupt, blushing furiously, “Anyway, he confronted me about my lies and told me how he felt and then we started dating. It’s very simple,” you conclude.

Taehyung adds nothing; sat behind you, his face remains stonily impassive as he fights the urge to lash out at Jion, he may be mute but his flint-eyed stare does not go unnoticed by Jion, who feels equal parts intimidated and smug that he’s riled his new foe. The conversation drops and moves on to other things, but the bad taste of it lingers long after.

Jiho seems to pack up his resentment at the end of the evening with the rest of his things and bears it away with him. In the dying light of dusk, you and Taehyung walk home together, his arm protectively around your shoulder, in a not altogether easy quiet. Though you don’t speak, you’re both of the same mind, anticipating that whatever Jiho’s problem is, he is not yet done.

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When you get back from the picnic, you excuse yourself for a long bath, tired, aching and in need of relaxation. In your absence, Taehyung sits with Ellie and Jihan. He feigns interest in the show their watching, but beneath his laughter and breezy commentary his mind works rapidly. What is Jion’s problem with him? Is it just that he’s a sore loser on behalf of Siwon? Or does he just hate Taehyung because of the way he treated you in the past? Or, is there something more sinister… What was that look that passed between Jion and Jimin? Jimin claimed he’d told the ‘right’ people… was one of those people Jion? Taehyung’s mind cycles rapidly through questions that have no answer and with each cycle he becomes more stressed; when he finally heads for a shower a couple of hours later his whole body is tight with tension.

The hot, focused jet of water that he directs at his knotted shoulders makes no difference, he’s no more relaxed when he steps out of the steamy bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, his tousled hair still damp. You’ve left a lamp on low in your bedroom for him to find his way, but you’re already fast asleep. He smiles at your consideration for him, yet wishes you were awake.

Taehyung tells himself that he’ll just cuddle you; lying on your side away from him, curled in on yourself, Taehyung slots in behind you. He knows you’re naked beneath the oversized tee you’re wearing: his tee. He smirks as the warm softness of your sleepy frame melts into him. Immediately, the scent of your hair fills his nose, and he knows he has to wake you despite his best intentions; he’s too tense and he needs release. He knows he must wake you gently, kindly, and so he begins touching you softly, his hands tracing a line up the side of your thigh, lifting the material of the tee as he traces his path up your hip to the dip of your waist, following the path upwards to cup your breast. As he plays with you, enjoying the weight and soft flesh in his hand, he presses gentle butterfly kisses to your clothed shoulder: all the while his twitching, growing cock nudges your now bare ass.

Losing a little patience,Taehyung guides you onto your back, climbing over you and resuming his attention on your breasts, forcing the tee upwards to allow him access. He kneads the neglected one while his mouth fixes around the other, your nipple already hardened from his attentions. Soon Taehyung is licking and sucking at both your breasts as his breath comes in increasingly short pants, his cock throbbing.

While he lavishes his attention on your breasts, his hand eases between your legs and he groans to find you disappointingly dry, tsking to himself in annoyance. Reluctantly moving from your breasts, Taehyung spreads your thighs wide and sinks his body down between your legs, until he’s lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. In your sleep you begin to twitch a little and Taehyung smirks into your cunt as his tongue intrudes into your vagina.

Soon you’re dripping with Taehyung’s saliva and some of your own wetness from his attentions. Taehyung is going out of his mind and knows now that he has to have you, losing patience with your sleepiness. Sucking your clit between his teeth, he nips it sharply, finally rousing you; he hears your breathing change as you yelp and then grumble your way to being awake.

Taehyung slides up your body, cock in hand. As your eyes flutter open, he guides his cock to your entrance and, fingertips to his frenulum, guides the tip in. You wince, confused as to what is happening. Taehyung kisses you, his mouth pressing on yours and his tongue slipping in as he pushes more of his length into your under-prepped body.

You reach for Taehyung to slow him down, to press pause, but he takes hold of your wrists instead, pinning them either side of your head as he continues his assault on your mouth. He groans into you in satisfaction when he bottoms out, his balls pressed tightly against you. The kiss breaks for a moment, giving you enough time to say the first syllable of his name before the breath is literally knocked out of you, Taehyung sliding back only to drive back into you roughly, setting a rapid rhythm of driving, hard thrusts.

It’s all too much: it’s too fast, too rough and too hard. Immobile beneath him, your mind is frozen as it tries to process the stretching of your walls; the slide of his still-damp flesh against yours; the water, dripping from the ends of his hair onto your face. You gather yourself together enough to tell him to stop, firmly and aggressively. He pauses, still inside you, looking at you in genuine confusion.

“Babe? Are you ok?” he asks gently yet you don’t miss that he’s frowning a little at the interruption, his impatient cock twitching inside you.

Suddenly, you’re angry and you don’t know why, “No, I’m fucking not,” you hiss, “You’re hurting me - get off me,” you state clearly, though your voice trembles.

Taehyung does as you ask, his eyes full of concern as he slips out of you, his cock beginning to soften in apprehension, “I’m sorry,” he says softly, moving to stroke your shoulder as you jerk away from him, rubbing your sore wrists where he pinned you down.

“What the fuck was that?” you ask shakily, “I wake up and the next thing I know you’re fucking me like you have a point to prove…”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, “I didn’t mean to, I got carried away…” he reaches for you again and you jerk away, clambering out of bed to grab underwear and pyjama bottoms. He watches powerlessly as you clothe yourself, each layer separating you from him in more ways than one.

You think about leaving the room and sleeping on the couch, but one look at his pained and confused face makes you pause. He speaks then, voice trembling with real fear, “Did I just …” he can’t bring himself to even say it euphemistically. Did he force himself on you? No, you were awake, he tells himself, panicking. He needs to know though, needs to fix things, “Did I cross a line?”

The unspoken word hangs between you as you hover, equidistant between him and the door, “No, you didn’t,” you reassure, “But that was way too rough without any warning, Taehyung.”

Oh, the full name, he registers, He’s hurt you, in more ways than one. “Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleads; he reads your face and finds confusion and pain with the merest hint of anger, noticing how your eyes flick to the bedroom door, “Please don’t go,” he adds desperately.

You nod curtly, “Fine, but don’t touch me again tonight,” you warn. Mutely he nods his understanding. You climb back into bed, then the two of you settle to go to sleep, lying back to back: the inches between you feel like miles.

The pillow Taehyung wraps around is a poor substitute for you, “I really am sorry,” he whispers, hoping for resolution.

“Can we just leave it for tonight?” you ask, though it’s more of a demand than a request.

Taehyung can’t, his mind is in turmoil, your words play on his mind: too rough without any warning… Is is he too rough often? He knows he often favours rough sex, have you been tolerating it without enjoying it? He can’t help himself, he has to ask, “Am I too rough with you?”

“Tomorrow,” you sigh, “I need to sleep.”

He says nothing, closing his eyes, yet it’s a long time before any sleep comes to either of you.

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You lied. When Taehyung wakes the next morning, you’ve already gone to work. He knows you must’ve crept around carefully not to wake him and his gut twists; he hates that you are avoiding him. With everything going on with Jimin and Jiho he knows he can ill-afford for the two of you to be anything other than rock solid.

That evening, he waits for you to return from work and you finally talk about it. It’s not the resolution he hoped for; you are withdrawn and avoidant and he is little reassured by your protestations that you’re fine with the way he treats you and the way he fucks you.

He’s right not to believe all is well. Over the next week you grow further apart: your conversations become more superficial and you barely even kiss let alone have sex. By the end of the week, pissed off with himself, Taehyung strategises on how to repair things between you: it doesn’t occur to him that sex might not be the only reason that you’re holding back.

The other side of the city, in your office, you look at the message from Jiho for the millionth time since he texted you after the picnic: I can’t say anything more right now, but believe me when I say that you cannot trust Kim Taehyung. You hang your head in your hands, uncertain of what to do.

Groaning heavily, you lift your head and pick up your phone. Swallowing your discomfort, you begin to type.

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Flushed and fanning your warm faces, you and Minho laugh: giggling your way through your mutual embarrassment. At a loose end, you knew you needed an outside perspective on your situation with Taehyung, and not any perspective, but one of someone who knows you well. Though you didn’t want to admit it, you also knew that you needed to speak to a man to better understand Taehyung’s point of view. With all that in mind, Minho was the only person you could call.

The conversation, had over lunch in the park beside your workplace, has been awkward, both of you grateful that you’re sitting side-by-side on a bench rather than having to face each other. As ever, your best friend’s insight has been the one you need: Yes, Taehyung had been wrong but no, he hadn’t gone too far; you need to communicate your boundaries more clearly to him; you need to tell Taehyung that your mood is being affected by Jiho’s words…

Minho’s concluding thought was that the distance that is growing between you and Taehyung is dangerous, a spreading black cloud that rains mistrust across your relationship. It’s a cloud heavy with reminders of the past and the way you two lost each other to begin with. Your friend tells you, albeit gently, that if you do not trust Taehyung, you need to tell him that and face whatever comes next before that cloud becomes a storm that your relationship cannot weather.

As ever, Minho is right. You’re grateful, grateful that you could be honest with him about your relationship and the awkward topic of sex, but more than that you’re grateful for his wisdom and balance. When you part, he reminds you the focus of your probing thoughts should not be directed towards Taehyung’s conduct, but Jiho’s, and that maybe it’s time to find out exactly what Jiho’s issues are.

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Taehyung watches the girl’s ponytail bounce as she guides him through the maze of corridors; she keeps looking back over her shoulder at him, smiling invitingly. He can’t work out if she thinks he might somehow get lost or if she’s flirting with him, either way she’s strangely relentless.

After another dizzying turn, his heart sinks to see Jimin moving towards them from the opposite end of the corridor. He stalks forward, face unreadable, moving with a cat-like grace in his well-tailored slim fitting suit. When he sees Taehyung, he plasters a smile across his face.

“Kim Taehyung!” he announces loudly, as though greeting an old friend. Taehyung smirks joylessly at the realisation that in some way, that’s true; from infancy, Jimin was Taehyung’s closest friend until, one day, he wasn’t. Jimin moves quickly down the corridor, eyeing the flowers and gift bag in Taehyung’s hands, “Ah, here to pick your girlfriend up?” he invites.

Taehyung notices that his guide looks a little downcast, “Yeah,” Taehyung replies, forcing himself to be civil, “I wanted to surprise her.”

Jimin smiles affably, “Thanks Sia, I’ll take him from here,” he states politely but dismissively to the girl, who slinks away reluctantly, “Follow me,” he smiles, guiding Taehyung towards your office.

After a beat or two, Taehyung can no longer contain himself, “Did you tell Jiho?” he presses.

Jimin breathes deeply, considering his response, “Yeah, I did,” he states, “Only the facts though, I didn’t share any theories.”

“Oh thanks for that,” Taehyung says sarcastically, “I’m sure that made all the difference…”

Jimin pauses, turning to face Taehyung and fixing him in his cold glare, “I could’ve said worse,” he states baldly, “Look, I think I can deal with Jiho and make sure he doesn’t ruin things for you, But only as long as you’re behaving yourself.”

Taehyung stares, but before he can answer, Jimin speaks again, “So are you, Taehyung? Are you behaving yourself?”

“I am,” Taehyung says flatly. Jimin is the last person he wants to confide in, but he has little other choice, “I am not the same as the kid I was then… and you have no idea how much I love her.”

Jimin presses his lips together, “Hm… I want to believe you,” he admits.

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, “You hate me,” he says, matching Jimin’s plainness, “So why do you want to believe me? Why aren’t you telling everyone?”

“I don’t hate you,” Jimin says, his voice heavy, “You were my best friend, Tae - I loved you like a brother once. I don’t want to destroy you.”

Taehyung softens, and they both feel something shift between them, the ground moving perhaps, or a door opening, “Then why tell anyone at all?”

Jimin fixes eye contact between them, “Because I don’t trust you,” he admits, his eyes glazing with genuine sadness, “…and I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of you.”

Taehyung holds the eye contact, after seconds that feel like hours he replies honestly, “Yeah, I understand that,” he nods, “I guess you have to do what you have to do.”

Jimin nods in response, “Who knows, Tae, maybe one day we’ll be friends…” his voice trails off. The comment is meant to be lighthearted, even a touch sarcastic, but as he speaks the words Jimin realises the truth of them: he misses Taehyung, even after all these years.

Taehyung smiles, it’s genuine, “I hope so.” Understanding passes between them, nothing more needing to be said. Jimin gestures to a room with the blinds closed but the door slightly ajar, “That’s her office. Say hi from me,” with a strange twitch of his mouth, more spasm than smile, Jimin turns and is gone.

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From the doorway, Taehyung observes the devastation in your office. One quick survey of the room tells him all he needs to know: the window is open and the breeze has picked up as the sun dips lower in the sky; strewn across the room are endless papers. The mess doesn’t hold his attention for long though, because you are on your hands and knees facing away from him desperately gathering papers, your ass, in its form fitting pencil skirt, raised invitingly towards him.

He steps silently into the room and shuts the door softly behind him; in your frantic state you don’t hear him. He creeps closer to you and, kneeling down behind you, taps your ass gently. He makes sure it’s the kind of tap a friend would deliver, nervous to do anything sexual with you given how things have been lately.

Your response is immediate, “Get the fuck off me!” you shriek; your leg kicks back as you defend yourself, scrambling forward.

Taehyung is taken by surprise. Luckily, your pointed stiletto heel doesn’t reach his cock, but it does make it into the meat of his thigh and he groans in pain.

You’re now on your feet and turning, ready for round two. Then you see Taehyung gripping his thigh as he rolls onto his back in agony. You kick your heels off and rush to him, “Oh baby, I’m so sorry!” you plead, wincing at the sight of his pain.

“Unnghhh -” he groans as you stroke his hair from his face and cradle his head in your lap until he calms a little. You see the light tearing of the fabric and feel ashamed.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat on loop, “it was instinct!”

He manages to sit up and takes your hand in his, “It’s ok, babe,” he groans, “It’s good to know my girl can defend herself,” he laughs, but then it dies on his lips as the two of you share a look, the moment in your bedroom a week ago hanging between you again.

“For me?” You ask, gesturing at the dropped flowers and gift bag. He simply nods, “Thank you,” you say softly.

“It’s the least I can do, and it’s not enough,” he laments.

“Taehyung -,” you begin, but he cuts you off, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and kissing it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I am so sorry about what happened. I’ll do anything to fix it and fix us, I know it’s all my fault.”

“No,” you say firmly, “It’s not all your fault. I won’t lie, I didn’t like it, I wanted more of a chance to speak than you gave me, but it’s not all your fault. I haven’t been honest with you.”

“You don’t trust me,” he says perceptively.

“I do,” you say, and it’s the truth now. You do trust him. As Minho told you, it’s a choice that you have to make, and you’ve made it. You trust the man you love, everything else comes after, “Maybe for a moment I let myself get thrown off course by other people, but that doesn’t matter now. I love you and I trust you.”

You’re surprised that his eyes cloud a little, though the tears don’t fall, “I love you too, baby - so fucking much. Are we going to be ok?”

You nod, “We’re going to be ok. I promise,” you smile, “Have I hurt you badly? Let me look,” you ask.

He grimaces, “It’s fine - I’m not dropping my trousers in your office, thanks.”

You nod to the supply cupboard at the back of the room, “In there now, I need to see.”

Taehyung relents and hobbles in, pulling the light cord as he enters. He leans against the bare wall, the other lined with shelves and crammed with files and supplies, “It’s a total mess in here,” he critiques.

You’re not long in entering behind him, shutting the door on you both as you pull a first aid kit from the shelf, “Oh shush, and drop your trousers,” you reply.

Despite the sting in his leg, he finds his cock stirring at the sight of you on your knees before him, as you undo his belt and pull his trousers down for him. From his position he has a perfect view down your silk blouse and it causes his cock to twitch. His mind is drawn from his lewd thoughts as you hiss in air between your teeth, examining the dark slash on his leg. The skin is barely broken, but blood has bloomed beneath the surface and the skin is already a rich purple colour.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh softly, “I’m so fucking sorry…”

He strokes the top of your head, “it was an accident,” he breathes, “I forgive you.”

You look up at him innocently and neither you nor he can ignore his semi hardness growing between you.

You shuffle closer to him, “Does it hurt badly?” you ask with a sultry resonance in your voice.

Taehyung catches on quickly, “Uh huh, it hurts so bad, babe,” he groans.

With the gentlest, most featherlight of touches, you butterfly soft kisses over the outermost edges of the growing bruise.

Taehyung starts to pant gently as you continue to kiss his tender flesh; he moans when suddenly you snake one hand up the leg of his boxers, cupping and squeezing his balls.

“Fuck,” he utters desperately, “are we doing this?”

He catches the dark look in your eyes, “No, we’re not,” you state and he feels crushing disappointment. You release his balls and look up at him, “May I have your jacket, please?”

Nonplussed, he shrugs off the fluffy brown teddy bear jacket that you adore so much and passes it to you.

“Thanks,” you smile, folding it up and placing it at his feet, using it to cushion your knees.

“We’re not doing this -” you clarify, releasing now achingly hard erection from his boxers and pulling them down carefully so you can reach all of him, but not so far that they graze his bruising, “…I am doing this to you,” you finish with a hungry gleam in your eyes.

He can’t contain his desire as you hand returns to his balls, you begin to kiss up and down his shaft mimicking your earlier motions on his thighs.

“Put a hand on the door, just in case,” you sigh wantonly, your breath tingling on him causing him to shudder pleasurably as he slaps a large hand, palm first, against the door, clutching the edge of the shelf ahead of him with the other as you begin to suck along the length of him.

For minutes, but to him it feels like hours, you tease him with soft sucks and kisses all over his cock and balls but only take the head in your mouth or run the flat of your tongue across his frenulum, driving him crazy. Then, suddenly you’re taking as much of him as you can, hollowing out your cheeks and blowing him furiously, pushing against your gag reflex to deep-throat him.

Above you, Taehyung sweats in pleasure, watching his cock disappearing in your mouth as you suck on him like you are being paid for it.

“Ffffuck -” he tries to stifle the sound, “you’re so f-fu-fucking good…”

You slow your movements; you know with his length and size you’ll be here a long time before your movements alone will make him come. As you pop off his cock, he eyes you with wild frustration, then betrayal, and finally puzzlement as he sees you grab a broom and wedge it under the handle.

“Your hands are free now,” you explain as he looks at you cluelessly.

You run your tongue along his cock, “Fuck my mouth, Taehyung,” you purr before opening you mouth and laying out your tongue, “I trust you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be too rough with you,” he implores.

“I want you to be rough with me,” you explain, “But only when I ask for it. I’m asking now.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, he pumps himself with a tight grip a few times before feeding himself into the wet heat of your mouth. His hands come to rest in your hair, knotting in the strands as he pumps into your mouth, guiding your head to meet his movements.

You take deep breaths through your nose, one hand continues to tease and gently tug at his ballsack while the other grips his ass. You dig your nails into one cheek and he hisses as he fucks you more aggressively, liking the pain you inflict on him.

After a while you think you’re going to black out from the lack of oxygen, but you keep your mouth tight and give him what he needs. Finally, his thrusts become more erratic as he chases his high.

He surrenders to his shuddering orgasm, thrusting into your mouth and coming down the back of your throat: he groans in deep bliss as he watches you swallow his load. Smiling and feeling drunk with pleasure, he watches you gently release his spent cock from your mouth, gentle of his oversensitivity.

You look up at him sweetly, “How bad’s the pain now?”

He laughs, a deep rumble of joy, “I fucking love you, babe,” he smiles his beautiful boxy grin. He thumbs the tears and mascara from your eyes and helps you to your feet before tucking himself away.

You’re both relieved to find the room as you left it when you emerge and you set about collecting the last of your papers together, giggling stupidly together.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

After he takes you for dinner, you and Taehyung part, heading to your respective homes. A warm glow of happiness sits over you as you enter your house, slipping off your heels and calling out to see if anyone’s home.

“In here,” calls Jessi from the living room.

Smiling, you wonder how she’ll react to being told you just sucked Taehyung off at your office… She’s always teasing you for being so restrained and you wonder how he’ll react. But your smile falls when you enter the room, Jessi sits in one of the armchairs, her spine straight and tense; opposite her, equally tense and uneasy, Jiho and Siwon perch on the couch.

You force your smile back on your face, it’s tight and tense, “Hey, this is a surprise,” you say evenly, allowing your tension to show a little.

Jiho and Siwon share a look before Siwon speaks, “It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?” he says smoothly, “It’s good to see you.”

Interesting, you think, this has been carefully planned, “It’s good to see you too,” you reply, your panic escalating, “If you’ll excuse me for two minutes I just need to change from work and then we can all have a coffee together? Is that ok?”

“Of course,” Siwon smiles, “Take your time.”

With a final forced smile, your face aching, you leave the room. As soon as you are in your bedroom you call Taehyung who reliably, as ever, picks up on the second ring, “Tae, baby, Siwon and Jiho are here and I need you.”

“Is everything ok?” he asks and you can hear the tension in his voice, “What do you need?”

“I need you here,” you explain, “I don’t want any more secrets, whatever they’re here for I want you to be part of it.”

You hear his sigh of relief, “Breathe baby, It’s going to be ok. I’m on my way.”

Downstairs, Jessi excuses herself, leaving the three of you to it; you settle into the armchair she vacated. The conversation passes pleasantly. It’s been a long time since you last saw Siwon, and there’s plenty to catch up on. As easy as the conversation is though, Taehyung hangs spectrally over everything, made even more conspicuous by everyone avoiding saying his name. You know it’s building though, Jiho’s bouncing leg and thrumming energy telling you he’s not far from revealing the true purpose of this visit.

Finally, it comes, but it’s when Siwon decides to take the bull by the horns, “Jessi tells us you and Taehyung are going on holiday soon?”

Your smile is genuine, but with excitement about the trip more than anything else, “It’s not really a holiday, it’s more of a visit. He’s going to take me to where he grew up. He went to live with his grandparents in the countryside when he was a teenager and he’s going to take me there.”

“Why did he get sent to his grandparents?” Jiho blurts out, his hostility evident.

You cock your head, frowning, “I didn’t say he was sent there,” you reply, your tone firm and cold, “He had his reasons, which are his business.”

“So, you don’t know why, basically,” Jiho scoffs.

You snap, “Jiho,” you begin, your voice low, slow and dangerous, “You’re my friend and I really care about you but I am beginning to get fed up of your crusade against Taehyung. Is that why you’re here?”

“No, it’s not like that -” Siwon begins.

“Thank you,” you say politely, interrupting him, “But I was asking Jiho.”

Jiho evaluates you, his eyes narrowing, “Yes, that’s why we’re here. Taehyung isn’t who you think he is.”

“You don’t know who I think he is,” you fire back, “You know nothing about our relationship and to be truthful, you know very little about him.”

Jiho laughs and it’s timbre is cruel, “I think I know more about him than you do.”

You say nothing and silence sits heavy between the three of you. Eventually, Siwon speaks, “I think you should hear what we have to say.”

You take a breath, and when you reply your voice is firm and resolute, “No.”

“What?” Jiho asks, nonplussed.

“I said no,” you repeat more firmly, “I love Taehyung. I trust Taehyung. Anything about him I will find out from him and him only.”

Jiho laughs derisively, “Wake up,” he barks, “He is not going to tell you the truth - you’re stupid if you think he would.”

Your nostrils flare in anger as a knock comes at the door, “Come in!” You call out, hearing the door open and close as you turn to Jiho, “How dare you. We’re friends Jiho, but you don’t get to speak to me like that.”

“Speak to you like what, babe?” Taehyung asks, entering the room. He sits on the arm of your chair, his arm protectively circling your shoulders.

“So you called him?” Jiho interrupts, “What is wrong with you? When did you become so brainwashed by a guy? Haven’t you learnt your lesson about that?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth his regret is immediate; his face blanches and he looks embarrassed.

Taehyung clenches his jaw, but doesn’t react more than to squeeze your shoulder in support, knowing you need to handle this yourself. He knows any mention of your last relationship is taboo, the scars evident.

“Ok,” you say, breathing deeply and heavily, tears threatening your waterline, “I’m sorry to be rude, but I am going to have to ask you both to leave.”

Jiho nods, he knows he’s gone too far, leaving the room mutely. Siwon is slower to leave, ignoring Taehyung and addressing you only, “You should talk to Park Jimin,” he says gently, “You should trust your friends too. Taehyung isn’t the only person who loves you.”

“It was nice to see you, again,” you say politely, ignoring his comment. Siwon reads your eyes though, knowing his words have hit home.

Silently, Taehyung follows the two men to the door, closing it behind them. When he returns to the living room, you look smaller than usual, your face wearing an expression of hurt. He opens his arms, without a word you step into his embrace and he wraps about you tightly.

“Are you ok, babe?” he asks, stroking your back, “What was all that about?”

You pull back from him gently, looking him in the eye, “Taehyung, what is it that Jimin knows that I don’t?”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The next few weeks ease gently into a smoother routine as you and Taehyung settle into your relationship. The secret of his past still hangs between you as does his promise that he will tell you the truth when he has found the words for it. Swaddled in your love and trust of him, you accept his word, waiting patiently for the time to come but unease remains inside you, a thorn that cannot be extracted. You know that this is far from a healthy start to a relationship but you do everything you can to assuage your misgivings, trusting in the love you have for him and and the love you know he has for you.

Maybe you would have some kind of peace, even if it was incomplete and imperfect, if your friends had the patience you do.

They don’t.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Yeah well, we all know what you are, don’t we...” slurs Jiho, poking Taehyung in the chest. Their argument has barely begun, but already heads are turning in the busy club, people moving away, others turning, forming a circle to spectate.

“Yeah? What am I?” Taehyung goads, equally as drunk.

The energy travels through the club in low rumblings and mutterings, eventually reaching you where you’re stood chatting with Jihoon and Ellie. Jihan appears, looking panicked, “There’s trouble between Taehyung and Jiho,” he states, pointing across the club.

When you get there, a crowd has formed around them and you have to force your way through with your friends. As you break the line you see the two men are nose to nose, squaring off like fighters at a weigh in, hissing insults at each other.

“You heard what I said,” Jiho taunts, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth and peppering Taehyung’s face, causing him to wince, “What else do you call a man who likes to take advantage of women? Because that’s what you did, wasn’t it Taehyung? That’s what you did to Baek Yideum, isn’t it?” It’s so quiet that only Taehyung and you, as the closest person to them, hear it.

Taehyung seems to change colour, first blanching with shock then turning red with fury, yelling “That’s a fucking lie!” shoving Jiho’s shoulder with the flat of his hand.

“You know what you fucking are and what you fucking did!” Jiho screams back, swinging for Taehyung and landing a punch squarely on Taehyung’s jaw.

Taehyung’s head snaps violently to one side before he recovers himself, “I never fucking did that!” with both hands he pushes Jiho in the chest, sending him hurtling over a table and landing with a thud the other side.

Time seems to pause as you all, Taehyung included, look on in shock as Jiho staggers to his feet. As he cleared the table, he swept glass with him, glass that smashed beneath him, cutting a jagged path across his chin. Now on his feet, blood pours from the wound, staining his white t-shirt. Jiho can feel the warm stickiness as he shakes his head slightly, his hand touching his chin to find wetness. He pulls his hand back and offers something between a smirk and a grimace as he sees the blood coating his fingers.

He snarls as he raises his eyes to Taehyung, “That better not fucking scar,” he threatens, launching himself bodily into Taehyung, sending them both crashing to the floor as they punch and kick at whatever part of each other they can reach, writhing on the floor in a violent, swarming mass.

It seems to last an age, but in reality the fight only lasts moments. Jihoon is quick to pull Jiho off, Jihan doing the same for Taehyung, corralling them to separate exits before security or worse, the police, can arrive. Jihan calls to Ellie that he’ll take Taehyung back to his, his arms around Taehyung’s struggling waist as your frantic boyfriend calls out to you.

You don’t respond; you can’t even hear him: frozen in shock, you stare at Jihoon manhandling Jiho from the scene, blood spraying everywhere. It’s only when Jihoon calls your name that you come to life. He yells that he’ll take Jiho to hospital and that someone needs to follow. As all the men disappear, you and Ellie stare at each other, unable to speak just as Minho and Aera reach you.

The spell of silence is broken by their arrival and you break into dizzying explanations. Clear-headed, designated-driver Minho makes the decisions: he will drive you all to the hospital, following Jihoon and Jiho, but will only drop Aera and Ellie there. He will take you home, your presence may only make things worse for Jiho and Minho is certain Taehyung will not be held by Jihan for long and will be desperate to see you.

“I’ll be ok,” you say to Minho, half-heartedly.

“No,” he replies firmly, “After what I just saw, I am not leaving you alone with him.” thinking of what only you heard, you relent, following his lead.

Only an hour later, yet again, Minho is proved right. Just as he gets off the phone to Aera, who explains that Jiho is fine, that the wound was superficial and only in need of paper stitches, your phone lights up with messages from Taehyung, pleading to come over and see you. You call him, he’s coherent, cowed, quiet, made sober by the fight and all that happened after it. Minho nods his agreement; he knows Ellie and Aera are on their way over in a cab, planning to stay the night and that Jihoon will eventually follow. Taehyung may be cowed, but they will not leave you alone with him.

When Jihan and Taehyung arrive, he is apologetic to your friends, all of whom deal with him evenly, agreeing that he and Jiho are equal in their idiocy and graceful enough to admit that Jiho started it. You lead Taehyung upstairs quietly, sitting him on the edge of the bathtub as you clean the grazes on his bruised face.

“What a fucking mess,” you mutter as you gently dab at his brow.

“My face or tonight?” he grumbles, it’s meant to be a joke, but your mood is too grim to even fake a smile.

“Who’s Baek Yideum?” you find yourself asking without even realising that you’re speaking as the words spill from your lips: the name has been circling your mind ever since you heard it in the club.

“I can’t explain that right now,” Taehyung pleads, shifting awkwardly, and hissing in pain as you grip his chin, holding him steady.

“Sit still or the antiseptic will hurt more,” you warn, “Taehyung, you can’t put me off forever. You said you’d tell me and now I need to know.”

He looks at you through heavy eyes, his expression unreadable.

“Tae,” you repeat, “You said to Jiho that you never did that… So what did you do?”

“Please baby,” he says, looking at the floor, “I’ll tell you everything, but give me until the morning, I can’t think straight.”

With a sigh you relent, “In the morning then,” you agree as you finish dressing his wounds.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Siwon waves goodbye to Jihoon, dropping him outside your house where everyone seems to be gathering. In the passenger seat, Jiho sleeps soundly, drunk and exhausted, his chin bandaged and dry blood flaking across his cheeks and bloodied knuckles.

Siwon will take Jiho back to his tonight, resolving that he will find out the whole picture tomorrow, wondering what path there is out of this mess. Nobody seems to know what the argument was about, other than Jiho insisting that Taehyung was something and Taehyung violently arguing that he was not. Jiho said nothing in the hospital, his focus purely on his cut chin and the possibility of a scar, but Siwon can guess what was said.

Later, having cleaned his old friend up and put him to bed, Siwon pours himself a whisky and wonders when you will want the truth about your boyfriend. He swirls the ice cubes in his drink as he recalls the restaurant and the fateful nigh that Jimin spoke to him and Jiho. He takes a long swig of the warming amber liquid, but it does nothing to affect the cold chill that runs through his veins as he recalls Jimin’s tale.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

It was no lie when Taehyung told you he had never truly loved before he loved you. Yet, he had known something like it: when he was a boy, he knew obsession and obsession only.

Taehyung has always been beautiful, but in his early teenage years he was awkward, uncomfortable, growing into his skin and his personality. He developed fixations with people, usually girls, who he’d focus on with terrifying single-mindedness. Of all his obsessions, it was the one with Baek Yideum that was his undoing.

Baek Yideum was the girlfriend of Jimin’s older brother. At 19, she was also a tutor to the 15 year old Taehyung. She found Taehyung’s charm, cuteness and adorable boxy smile endearing and so would flirt with him, harmlessly she thought. Her age and his sweetness meant that she never perceived any kind of danger forming from their relationship. Yes, she suspected Taehyung might have a little crush on her, but she assumed it was harmless enough.

It wasn’t.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Siwon shudders as he recalls Jimin’s monologue.

“So one day, I came home and I heard voices in the kitchen and the door was closed, which it never was… so I pressed my ear to the door, like any nosey kid would and listened. It was our housekeeper, telling my mother what she had heard from Taehyung’s housekeeper. Our housekeeper was the best woman and knew both me and my brother since we were born, so she couldn’t keep the secret.

“Apparently, for months, every time Taehyung’s busy parents would be away for the weekend - they were always travelling for his Dad’s medical business, leaving Taehyung alone a lot. Yideum would go to his house, do her usual Friday tutoring and would stay over. The housekeeper couldn’t say what happened, only that the girl was there when she left on Friday afternoon and would still be there Saturday morning, wearing the same clothes and smile.

“The whole thing exploded. Yideum was like family to us. My mother told my brother, she told Taehyung’s parents and it was awful. My brother broke up with Yideum, even though she insisted that nothing happened. She said that she was just tired on Fridays after a long week and so would stay over rather than driving home when she was sleepy. Nobody believed her. Taehyung, for his part, said nothing, insisting too that nothing was happening. Nobody believed either of them.

“I loved Taehyung like a brother, but I loved Yideum too - she’d been with my brother for years and she was as good as a sister to me. I couldn’t understand it. I confronted Taehyung because I knew he liked her. I just wanted the truth. He never admitted anything, but there was a slyness beneath his denials and somehow I knew he’d done something but not what. I tried to speak to Yideum, but she wouldn’t speak to any of us, weeks later she left the country to live with relatives overseas. Everyone then said she’d groomed Taehyung, after all she was 19, he was a minor. His parents sent him to the countryside to live with his grandparents to escape the gossip.

“I don’t know what happened, but something did. We never spoke again.”

Siwon finishes his drink and makes his heavy-footed way back to the bed he’d slept in peacefully before Jihoon’s phone call from the hospital roused him. He knows that Jiho thinks something sinister happened with Taehyung and that girl, but Siwon has his doubts, thinking Jiho’s opinion is influenced more by dislike of Taehyung than anything else. Siwon envies his earlier self, knowing he’ll get little more sleep, if any, tonight. As he drifts to sleep he wonders if Jimin is embellishing the truth, perhaps he’s the problem, not Taehyung?

Across the city, oblivious to the conflict of tonight, Jimin sleeps soundly, his conscience untroubled. He sleeps the easy sleep of the innocent: he has told no lies, he never did find out what happened. In the years that have passed he’s spoken little to Taehyung; the absence of truth festered between them, an open wound that never seemed to heal properly, leaving an ugly scar where their friendship once was, a scar that Jimin hopes is finally beginning to fade.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The next morning, as he promised, Taehyung tells you the story, exactly as Jimin told it to Jion and Siwon, insisting that nothing ever happened and that nobody ever believed him.

Sat opposite him, the two of you cross-legged on your bed, you question why, if it was all so innocent, that he couldn’t admit this sooner to you. Taehyung’s only defence is experience: nobody ever believed him before, why would they now? He tells you he fears losing you too much to risk you doubting him, citing that his past behaviour of obsessive desire might frighten you away from him given your history with controlling men.

“I am not a 15 year old boy anymore,” he insists, “I didn’t know what love was then. What I felt for Yideum is not what I feel for you. You’re everything to me. Please believe me.”

You love him and so you will not lie, “I need to think,” you admit, “And I need some air.”

Seeking out Minho as your friends gather for breakfast, you go for a walk to clear your head and organise the thoughts that tangle and snare your mind.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

You tell Minho the basics of the story, and he’s quick, even with limited information, to discern what truly worries you.

“Do you think there was something in Jimin’s suspicions?” he prompts, “Do you think something might have been going on between them? Because if there was, I think he’s the victim - he was 15 she was an adult… surely that makes her the bad guy not him?”

You nod, wondering if there’s sense in what he says as he continues, “I mean, she did flee the country, that’s pretty sus, no? And what kind of defence is sleepiness? It’s all so weird,” he stretches as you walk, his attention grasped by the smell of warm coffee on the breeze.

You can only nod, as slowly, like a stage curtain, something starts to lift in your mind. Minho knows the expression on your face; he knows your mind is racing. He guides you to a nearby bench, “Stay here, I’ll run to the coffee trunk and get us breakfast.”

With Minho gone, your mind travels back in time to when you first made friends with Taehyung. With frightening speed, your brain sets alight, synapses firing and lighting up memories in violent neon flashes through your mind. An idea, as pernicious and insidious as any you have ever known takes hold of you: you turn to the bin beside you and throw up violently into it.

Breathing deeply, and wiping your mouth with a wipe from your bag, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the cool breeze of the park wash over the cold sweat you’ve broken into. Out of your control, your mind continues its busy work; every piece of your every moment with Taehyung slotting perfectly into place.

By the time you get back to your house, you’ve convinced Minho you just have a terrible hangover. Whilst dread builds in you, you say goodbye to your friends at the door, wishing them well. By the time you reach the staircase to face Taehyung, your hands sweat, your legs are weak and your chest constricts: you cling to the banister as you climb, unsure of how you’ll even begin.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung’s smile doesn’t last when you enter your bedroom, your face ashen as you look at him, a sickly sheen on your brow. You sit at the edge of the bed, not looking at him and he notices the distance you’ve placed between the two of you.

Taehyung waits, there’s nothing else he can do.

Eventually, you speak, turning to face him and his heart beats an irregular, demented tattoo against his rib cage, panic overtaking him.

“Taehyung,” you say steadily, silent tears tracking down your face, “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I need to know and I need you to be honest,” you begin.

He nods, “I will be,” he says, swallowing thickly. He’s desperate to reach for you, to catch your tears with his thumbs and ease your sorrow, yet he can’t, because he’s the cause, not the remedy.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, your voice cracking as your lower lip trembles, “Have you ever drugged me?”

His heart seems to stop. He watches the tears flow down your face, your eyes bright, shining and swimming with pain. He knows what you need from him.

“Yes,” he says honestly.

Your lips and eyes press together as the one simple word washes over you, and you nod slightly, knowing it’s the truth. When you finally open your eyes and look at him, he feels you pulling away from him.

“That night we first met, when I was so strangely drunk…” you ask and he nods in assent, “When else? Any other times?”

“Yes,” he admits, his voice cracking.

“When?” you press, your voice detached, clinical.

“I never did anything -” he explains, but you interrupt.

“Tell me when, Taehyung,” you say.

“When you wouldn’t talk to me when Aera hosted the party here. I was worried about how tense you were…”

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You flee the room, rushing to the bathroom to be sick again as you recall how he brought you food and water that night, insisting that you eat and drink. When you finally emerge from the bathroom, he hasn’t moved from his position on the bed, seemingly frozen.

You know you need to ask about the final piece of the puzzle, you have to know everything, “That time you claimed Jimin drugged you, you did that to yourself didn’t you? You got too drunk with that girl, let her suck you off, regretted it and so, I don’t know, licked a pill or something so you’d show trace amounts, didn’t you?”

Taehyung nods, tears now rolling down his face.

“Fuck,” you say through your own tears, “Why, Tae? Why would you do that? What did you do to me? What did you do to Yideum?”

“I never did anything to either of you!” he insists, “I just wanted to be close to you.”

“Close how?” you insist, a morbid desire to know everything overtaking you.

“Just to lie next to you both, to hold you, nothing gross or weird.”

You note the plural, remembering that you’re his second, “You didn’t do anything else?”

“Not with Yideum, no,” he admits, wanting to be absolutely honest with you now; he has nothing left to lose, after all.

“Tell me,” you don’t trust your voice to hold out beyond the most simple of sentences: terror, hurt and pain rise within you, threatening to overspill.

“That first time, after Minho’s exhibition, I was drunk too. I may have wanked off a bit messily…” he admits, sounding like he’s done something innocuous, like spilling a drink.

Your stomach turns, remembering how you’d been embarrassed to realise he’d taken off your make up, “You came on my face?”

“No, no!” he states, “I got cum on my hands and stroked your face, I didn’t realise…”

You cover your mouth, fearing you’ll be sick again, “When did you last do it?”

“I’ve only done it those times. I’ve never even thought about it since. I was desperate then, and stupid, and I couldn’t work out my feelings for you.”

“How many others have you done this to?”

“Nobody else. Just you and Yideum. You don’t understand how much I wanted you, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

“You didn’t want me,” you groan, “You didn’t even realise you loved me until Jihoon told you!”

“I always wanted you,” he argues, “Always! I’ve told you this, I might not have realised I loved you then, but God, I wanted you, I hadn’t wanted anyone so badly since -” he pauses, cutting himself off.

“Since Yideum?” You prompt, your stomach roiling.

He shakes his head in shame, “Yes, since then. I didn’t realise I loved you. To me you were this wonderful person, this beautiful, kind woman, so warm, so gentle and I needed you in my life. I did everything I could to persuade you and you kept running from me. I was desperate and stupid at that gallery.”

“You did it again though…”

“Only when I thought I’d lose you! You were so stressed, I just wanted to help you rest.”

“Please…” you mumble, your voice shaking and words finally failing you.

“Please what, baby?” he says softly, “What do you need?” He begins to move towards you, but thinks better of it, hesitating and withdrawing.

You swallow, wiping your tears away with the back of your sleeve, “Please leave.”

His heart sinks to his feet, his mind spinning, reaching for solutions in a black void empty of them. It doesn’t take him long to realise there’s nothing he can do.

“Ok,” he agrees gently, “I’ll go. I know it’s not good enough, but I am so sorry baby, but we can get through this, right? We’re going to be ok?”

You can hear the questioning desperation in his voice, but for the first time ever, you’re unmoved. “I don’t know,” you say softly, shrinking from his touch as he tries to reach for you as he passes.

“I love you,” he says hopefully as he reaches the door.

“I love you too,” you say in little more than a whisper.

“So we’ll be ok?” he pleads, hesitating on the threshold.

You look up at him, your eyes red, your face stained with tears then shake your head slightly before you turn away from him.

Taehyung leaves.

<<< Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Twenty >>>

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung x reader #no minors please #taehyung angst #taehyung yandere #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub #dark themes read warnings above the cut

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ffion451 · 1 year

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ahhhh authornim im happy you like the hashtags lol but aaaaahhh jimiiiiiiiiiiin i wana scream sdjkfhsdkjgh the cliffhangerrrrrr o(---(

I know - I’m so sorry! I promise the final parts are coming soon. I always get to this stage at the end where I end up writing the last two parts simultaneously… I don’t know why, it just seems to tie up that way 🙃

I know where it’s all heading, but the real Q is which one of them is the real bad guy? Or is it neither of them? Or maybe both??? Kekeke ☺️

Thanks for sticking with this story - I’m exhausted but determined to finish it as best I can and I hope when it’s done it doesn’t disappoint you 💛

#lovely reader #the centre cannot hold #chapter 18 #thank you for your patience!#have I ever ended anything satisfactorily? prob not #who’s the real villain? prob me!#slightly scary Taehyung is definitely sexy Taehyung

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ffion451 · 1 year

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you’re having me on the edge of my seaat, i’m going crazy for your story!! ly!! take care xx

Eeeek 😬 it’s such a frustrating cliff hanger, I know (sorry!) The next chapter is in progress rn though so I won’t keep you waiting too long for answers!

Tysm for reading! ily 💛

#lovely reader #the centre cannot hold #chapter 18

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ffion451 · 1 year

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Chapter Eighteen: Shadows | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x f!reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️ SMUT (m/f unprotected sex - a little bit rough), mild threat, passing to alcohol, foul language

Word count: 6.4K

<<< Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Nineteen >>>

The pub door swings shut with a clatter behind Jimin, the sound travelling up Siwon’s spine and shuddering through his body. Opposite him, Jiho seems lost for words, unable to fully process what he’s heard. Finally, he finds his voice, “Can you believe all of that?” he asks, “I mean, I don’t like the guy, you know that, but can all that be true?”

Siwon drags the breadth of his palm across his jaw, feeling the tension in his body, everything feeling too tight, too knotted. He looks at Jiho, mouth open while he tries to find the words to describe his thoughts.

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The new day is barely troubling the dark of the horizon, the sky still an inky black. A cool breeze creeps through the open window, licking at your sweaty skin, turning heat to cold; you shudder and fist your sheets.

“Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung…” you gasp, pressing your mouth to his shoulder, your fingers tracing the strong muscles of his back as he moves inside you.

He kisses the side of your face, not breaking his rhythm, “Baby, give me your hands,” he groans. He laces your fingers with his, holding them either side of your head, propping himself up on his elbows so he can kiss you, slowly, languorously, savouring every moment. He knows that, in this position, each roll of his hips teases your clit: it won’t be long until you come undone. He enjoys every soft whimper you breathe into him as his thick cock drags in and out of your warm, tight walls.

“I love you baby, I love you so fucking much,” he vows as you gasp, your walls clenching and pulsing around him; he stills his hips, groaning as he presses deep within you. You’re so tight around him and it feels so good that he doesn’t dare move; he’s not ready to come just yet.

Taehyung’s a quick learner. He knows how you like it in the mornings: you want slow, soft sex filled with kisses and romance to start with, but soon enough you want it faster… harder… rougher… He’ll give it all to you without complaint because he wants the exact same thing.

He craves the gentle, loving, giggly, intimate sex that he’s never had with anyone but you with a passionate need, yet, eventually, he loses control and he has to take you, his fierce, uncontrollable lust getting the better of him. You’re still shy about voicing what you want but he’s not frustrated by it, learning to read the signs of your desire and feeling smug with himself for decoding your secret language. If anything, your shyness makes him want you more; you’re even more the pure, good girl he’s so in love with. It drives him crazy to know you’re only like this for him, that he brings out the whore in you, that it’s only him that has ever guided you to explore your appetites and preferences. His cock throbs at the knowledge that he’s the only man who’s ever really satisfied you.

You look up at him, fucked out, smiling lazily, “I love you too,” you say breathlessly, “You feel so good…”

“Can you still take me?” he grins as you nod, spreading your legs wider, inviting him to go harder, to drive deeper.

“Please,” you moan.

Taehyung growls in response, “I’ll give you everything.”

His hand travels to your heaving chest, taking your breast in his large hand before playing with your nipple, flicking it with his finger before he loses control, his hot mouth wrapping around the nub as you moan for him. His balls are still pressed to your ass, feeling you start to clench around him again. He buries his face into your neck and starts to thrust, hard and fast, still playing with your breasts with one hand, twisting the soft flesh almost painfully as he pounds into you. His other hand slides to grab your ass, holding you steady as he rocks into you fiercely.

You feel another orgasm approach, clenching on his cock and he grins, his hand shifting from your ass to circle your clit, desperate to turn you into the tight little twitchy vice around him that gets him off so quickly. Moments later, when you spasm around him, warmth floods your cunt as he pumps his cum in you, his orgasm taking him by surprise. His thrusts slow in pace but don’t stop: he wants to draw out your orgasms as he kisses you sloppily, the two of you gasping for air as you kiss messily and ride out your highs.

While you shower, Taehyung finishes adding a few extra treats and surprises into your overnight bag. He doesn’t want to spend a night away from you, even if it is essential for your work. He wishes Jessi was going too, but she has a sickness bug and is sitting the whole event out. He’s especially concerned to be parted from you as you’ve been sleeping so poorly lately, tossing and turning just before you wake up gasping for air, panicked. Each time it’s taken a while to calm you, to ease your breathing back to a calm rhythm; he hates the thought of you waking in a cold sweat alone, without him to comfort you. He wonders what has brought it all on but you’ve given no answers, only stating you must be having bad dreams that you don’t remember; he’s not sure that he believes you.

A quick glance at the clock has him calling out to you to hurry, knowing the Uber your boss has sent will arrive soon to take you to your workplace, where you’ll board a bus and be lost to him until Sunday night.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The conference centre that will house you for the weekend is located in the mountains, surrounded by forestry. The tall, dark pines sit heavily against the pale blue watercolour sweep of sky. The centre itself is wide and sprawling, sitting low beneath the trees, invisible from the road. The accommodation could not be more different to the modern, glass-fronted minimalism of the centre; there is no hotel, only bijou cabins that are scattered around, nestling between the trees.

You’re only one step off the bus onto the cobbled path when the smell of pine floods your nose, drawing a smile from you despite your travel tiredness, “Hey, the meetings start soon,” enthuses Jimin behind you, “Let’s get a move on,” pushing you gently in the back so he can step off the bus.

You roll your eyes as you put your hand behind your back to give him the finger, he laughs uproariously in return, moving alongside you and nudging you with his shoulder, “You ok?”

You yawn, “Buses make me sleepy,” you admit.

“Well, I’m sure hours of seminars on best practice and other thrilling topics are precisely what you need to wake up,” Jimin intones sarcastically.

You smile, rolling your eyes, “Ugh, I know! Not exactly many people’s idea of a good weekend -” you’re interrupted by a peppy colleague who passes you the long-guarded programme of events; Jimin smirks at you, knowing you’re sharing the same, slightly bitchy thought about their enthusiasm. Feeling a little guilty, you scan the leaflet and finally you smile genuinely.

When Jimin finishes reading it, his smile matches yours, “We get quite a lot of free time,” he encourages, “We might have more fun that you think!”

With a new optimism, you stride with more energy to check in. You resolve to be more like the colleague you just mocked, feeling ashamed of yourself. Yes, your weekends are precious and filled with Taehyung, but being resentful at being parted from him for the whole weekend isn’t going to make you any happier. You slap a smile on as you enter the conference centre to register and be given your cabin key so you can freshen up.

By lunch, your well-intentioned optimism wanes. Bored senseless and made more tired by having to conceal it, you can’t resist the urge to sneak away to a quiet corner to text Taehyung, who immediately calls you back. In hushed tones you tell him everything that has happened so far, from describing the landscape and the cute cabins named for plants (you’re thrilled that yours is your birth flower) to the events of the conference so far. You tell him everything except Jimin’s presence, the unspoken name causing guilt to twist in your gut as your boyfriend’s sweet voice floods your ear. You know you need to tell him that you and Jimin are colleagues now, but somehow the timing has never felt right; you’re nervous of how he will react, especially as lately the two of you have been working on a major project that means you’ve regularly worked late together, just as a pair, sometimes getting dinner together afterwards before you head home. You know you’re not doing anything wrong, but somehow not telling Taehyung makes it feel like you are.

When the call ends Taehyung cradles his phone, sat cross-legged on his bed. Something’s wrong, he realises, but he can’t put his finger on what it might be: he knows he’s right though, there was something in your voice, a strange tension that tells him you’re worried about something and don’t want to tell him. He bites his lip before an idea occurs to him and he begins tapping at his phone, the thought growing in his mind.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The ground beneath you is comfortable, a warm orange rug of soft pine needles laid out at the forest edge where the trees give way to a lake. You close your eyes, letting the cool breeze surround you, focusing on nothing more than what you can sense: the chill across your skin; the smell of the pine; the sound of the lapping water over the pebbles at the shore edge; Jimin’s soft breathing beside you.

“Hello?” he calls teasingly, “Are you falling asleep? Am I that boring?”

You smile and open your eyes, resting your shoulder against his, “No, not at all,” you apologise, “It’s just been a really long day…” You try to be grateful for the moment; simply to sit and enjoy the friendship of the man beside you instead of longing to be elsewhere. This is a beautiful place to enjoy with a friend and you feel guilty that your attention is elsewhere.

“The secret to success is to never be satisfied, one must strive, striveeeeee. Good is never good enough! Excellence! Always excellence. This should be your aim,” Jimin recites theatrically in a high, nasal voice. It’s an excellent impression of the final speaker of the day.

It does the trick, pulling you into eh moment and the two of you laugh and joke about the day; you giggle with him until tears leak from the corner of your eyes and Jimin rolls on the floor beside you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The thin layers of his shirt and jacket do little to protect Taehyung from the rough bark of the tree that he leans against. Hidden from sight by the thick foliage in front of him, Taehyung is still able to see you on the opposite bank through a narrow sliver in the branches.

It was a three hour drive to reach you, three and half after he got lost in the woods trying to find this damn centre. When he finally arrived, you were nowhere to be found, so he stalked the paths through the forest, knowing that after a day of meetings you’d probably seek the solace of nature. The sign pointing towards a lake had lightened his mood; he knew straight away that’s where he’d find you. And he did. And here you are. With Jimin.

Three hours of driving. Another half hour of circling around on himself and then another hour of trying to find you and this is what he gets. His girlfriend, the love of his life, sat in a romantic scene with the man who hates him most.

Taehyung seethes.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“It’s pretty here,” Jimin says, taking a deep breath, sitting up from his stretched out position, staring at the sky.

“It is,” you smile wistfully.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, with a cheeky wiggle of his eyebrows.

You frown playfully, “Oh yeah? Enlighten me…”

He stretches, “You’re thinking ‘this is a really romantic place, I wish Kim Taehyung was here!’” he teases in a girlish impersonation of your voice “Am I wrong?”

You look at him sharply, “I wouldn’t be so rude!”

Jimin laughs, “Don’t be offended, I’m not! You’re so in love that it’s obvious for anyone to see! You’ve been pining for him since you got on the bus this morning.”

You blush beside him, unsure of what to say and deciding to stick to safe ground, “How did you know we’re dating?”

He answers at the exact same time the thought occurs to you and simultaneously you both say the name aloud, “Jessi…”

You laugh together, and as the giggling dies down, Jimin smiles tentatively, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes are wide, and a little offended, so you’re honest, “I know you and he have history and not the best relationship,” you admit, “I also don’t know what that is because he won’t tell me. I don’t want to push him on it and I don’t want to hear it from anyone other than him…”

Jimin looks at you searchingly, urging you to go on. You take a breath, scratching your forearm awkwardly, “I guess I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m too nervous to ask him so I didn’t want to bring it up.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says gently, “Taehyung and I were once best friends, I know how he can-, well I just know,” he concludes, careful not to insult Taehyung and risk alienating you.

You bite your lip mutely. “We won’t talk about it,” he reassures, “Not until you want to or he’s told you.”

“Thanks,” you reply, before you spin your head quickly, the sound of rustling behind you. You clutch Jimin’s sleeve in fright, sharing a look of panic at the sound of something crashing purposefully through the trees towards you.

The sound gets louder rapidly, giving you no time to even get to your feet before it reaches you. Pushing through the undergrowth, you see the sharp silver point first, cutting through the air in a high arc; your breath catches in your throat.

You’re too afraid to even scream.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung’s heart pounds against his chest, beating a violent rhythm against his rib cage. He hates the look of fear across your face, the way your hand reaches for your throat as if you can claw the scream free from your breathless chest.

What absolute assholes, he thinks, watching as the stupid man who wielded the corkscrew apologises to you. Evidently, a bunch of your colleagues, joining you with wine and some sort of makeshift picnic, thought it would be a great joke to scare you and Jimin. Pricks.

You smile at your colleagues, but you’re still deathly pale as you rub your chest, directly above your heart. He feels the tension in his own, feels your fear as his own.

Beside you, Jimin rubs your back softly, soothing you. It’s not overly effective as only a few minutes later you decide to leave. Taehyung watches you gather your things, standing up and dusting stray pine needles from your ass; he scowls as he watches a few of the men eye you appreciatively as you do. He notes that Jimin pointedly does not, instead he scowls at those who do. Resentfully he finds himself actually grateful that Jimin is with you; despite his rancour he can admit that it’s within Jimin’s nature to be protective and kind.

You wave them goodbye as you follow the lakeside path. Just before you turn into the trees you pause, turning back to the scene and closing your eyes for a moment. The orange light of the setting sun illuminates your face as you feel its final rays of warmth, smiling to yourself.

He presses back into the trees when you open your eyes, taking out your phone and seemingly pointing it straight at him. His heart races as he tells himself you’re just taking a picture of the scenery, and his fears are allayed as you tap at your phone, smiling.

A minute later, his own vibrates; he withdraws it to see you’ve sent him the photo. The caption is simple: I wish you were here. His heart swells with feeling as again you enjoy the fading light before you head into the trees: he’s not concerned, certain that the light will stay with you.

Easing himself away from the tree, he rejoins the path, circling the lake and heading back towards you, where he belongs, knowing you need him right now as much as he needs you.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,” you recite as you follow the path, the light fading before you. The night symphony of the forest begins to grow around you as your heart flutters unpleasantly, yet to fully recover from your shock at the lakeside.

“Stupid prick,” you mutter under your breath, picking your way over tree roots.

“Who’s a stupid prick?” rumbles a voice behind you and you jump, falling forward before a strong hand closes around your arm and pulls you back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You apologise effusively as you face him: you apologise for falling, cursing and being foolish, blushing furiously in embarrassment.

“Enough,” he admonishes gently, as is his manner with everything, “Let’s get you back to your Cabin safely, shall we?” He smiles at you, through kind eyes, wrinkled at the edges from decades of easy, warm smiles. Instantly you feel relieved, and safe.

At your door, you part from your boss, wishing each other a restful night before he leaves in the opposite direction, heading the considerable distance to his own, more luxurious, multi-roomed cabin.

Locking the cabin door behind you, you sigh. You call Taehyung as you change into pyjamas, exhausted. Your heart sinks when he doesn’t answer.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Jimin is nearly back at his cabin when he hears soft footsteps on the dark path behind him. He pauses, noting that the footsteps behind him also pause as though a shadow stalks him. He smirks to himself, “You gave yourself away when you headed back to the path from your hiding spot in the woods earlier,” he laughs dryly, “You’re not very subtle, Taehyung.”

“It’s not really my thing,” Taehyung says smoothly, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous.

“No,” Jimin concedes, turning to face him, “I suppose it never really was, was it?”

Taehyung smiles, but it’s joyless, more snarl than smirk, “I might as well be direct then.”

“Go ahead,” Jimin replies lazily, knowing exactly what Taehyung will say next.

“Stay away from her,” Taehyung warns, predictably. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it.

“No,” Jimin answers simply, “We’re friends and we work together, so even if I wanted to, it’s not possible. You should be questioning why she hasn’t told you she and I are friends. Giving yourself away already, Taetae?”

“Don’t call me that,” Taehyung hisses, unable to fully avoid the bait, but he won’t discuss your relationship with Jimin, no matter how riled he is. His teeth grind together as he clenches his jaw, “What are you waiting for?” he doesn’t want to ask the question but he has to: he needs to know.

Jimin smiles, “As I’m the one holding all the cards I suppose I can be honest,” he laughs playfully, enjoying Taehyung’s tightly wound stance and knotted brow, “If I told her now she’d resent me for it. She might even suspect I was lying; she’s that crazy about you. There’s no sense in it. She’s a good friend now, I like her and we’re doing well at work because of each other - I want that to keep going so you can just keep quiet for now,” Jimin instructs, smiling.

Taehyung nods tightly, unable to respond and Jimin continues, “I am going to carry on being her friend. I don’t want to steal her away from you, I’m not even interested in her, ok? But I will be keeping an eye on you, old friend. So you’ll have to learn to play nicely, with me and with her other friends, do you understand me?”

Taehyung scowls, “I understand.”

Jimin can’t help but press his advantage, “So as long as you’re a good boy we’ll be fine.”

Taehyung ignores the jibe, “I’m surprised you haven’t told anyone,” he states coldly, suspicious of Jimin’s easy bargain.

Jimin’s smile turns cruel, “Oh, but I have,” he admits, grinning broadly as Taehyung’s blood runs cold.

“Who?” Taehyung demands.

“The right people,” Jimin says cryptically, “Like I said, behave yourself, don’t get in my way, and we won’t have a problem, ok? Now, I think a very tired girl is waiting for you, you’d better hurry before she falls asleep. I’m afraid I won’t be letting you bunk in with me if she doesn’t let you in…”

With a final scowl, Taehyung strides past Jimin, colliding their shoulders as he stalks past him towards the cabins, clearly furious.

It takes Jimin a couple of steps to regain his balance, and he laughs while he does, “Enjoy your evening, Taehyung,” he calls in a singsong voice behind him, “And remember what I’ve said!”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Breathing deeply, but silently, Taehyung calms himself down, descending from the peak of fury interacting with Jimin had elevated him to. Now, leaning against the grooved wood of Jimin’s cabin, he begins to regain equilibrium, even allowing himself a smirk at the sound of Jimin laughing at the TV. The happy giggle echoes through the cabin, drifting through the open bathroom window, which Taehyung currently stands beneath. Opposite, Taehyung can only see a slight glow of light from your bathroom: the window is shut tight and the bathroom door closed. He bristles slightly at how close your two cabins are.

Minutes later, and back in control, Taehyung saunters to your cabin and knocks the door, ready to greet you, wondering what kind of reception he’ll receive: will you be puzzled? Happy? Guilty? His mind lists several possibilities before he realises how long he’s been stood there. You text him after he ignored your call, telling him you were in your cabin. Did you lie?

He steps back from the door and calls you: you answer immediately, speaking quietly and he mirrors your volume, “Sorry I missed your call, babe,” he lies smoothly, “I ordered you room service, did you get it yet?”

“Fuck,” you hiss, “There was a knock but I ignored it, I’ll call you back in two minutes! Sorry!” you apologise.

He smiles, pocketing his phone and pushing back his hair as you swing the door open, “Surprise…” he says softly, spreading his hands wide as you stare at him in shock. He’s pleased to see you’re wearing his pyjama top that he packed for you; it’s oversized on him, so on you looks like a long nightshirt, skimming the top of your thighs in a way that he finds it heard to pul his attention from. The sight makes his possessive heart race and his cock twitch.

While he waited for you, he imagined so many many different reactions but not silence and he’s certainly not prepared for what comes next.

“Ta da!” he says playfully and it pulls your from your stupor: you reach for him, your hands wrapping around the edges of his jacket as you pull him into the cabin, connecting your mouth to his. He kisses you back hungrily, kicking the door shut behind him before he drives your body against the wall, pressing his hardening crotch against you while his tongue teases yours.

You both pant when he breaks away breathlessly, “So you’re happy to see me then?”

You gaze up at him. Your pupils may be blown wide in lust, but yours eyes are also clear and shining, “I’m so glad you’re here,” you say honestly. There’s no thought in your mind but Taehyung; no fear that he may have seen Jimin occurs to you. As ever, when you’re with Taehyung he eclipses everything else, there is only him and the shadow he casts over everything.

“Why didn’t you answer the door?” he asks, frowning, “Is everything ok?”

Again, you’re honest, “A lot of my colleagues are drunk. Earlier they played a prank that was nothing, but it scared me. I don’t want to party with them tonight, I just wanted to get into bed and talk to you. I know I am a big girl and that I can take care of myself, but all I wanted was to be with you.”

A thrill of pride runs through him, “I’m always here for you. I do have to go early in the morning, but tonight I’ve got you,” he explains, “and tomorrow I’ll be waiting for you in your bed when you get back in the night.”

“So, you came all this way for me?” you ask shyly, fully processing the length of journey he’s undertaken. He finds your cuteness too much, giggling in response.

“Of course - I’d do anything for you,” he admits, “You sounded unhappy on the phone earlier and I just wanted to see you.”

You flush in response and he sees the guilt start to build in your eyes, a twist of sick satisfaction in his gut to know you’re at least ashamed to be lying to him, “Don’t feel bad about it,” he chides, watching you shudder, realising how easily he is able to read your guilty conscience, “I wanted to see you.”

He kisses you again, rolling his hips against you, “I wanted to see you,” he repeats, biting your lip before releasing it with a pop, “…and I wanted - I want - to fuck you.”

You gasp and he grins, “Lock the door, baby,” he instructs, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Taehyung has no real use for the bathroom other than to open the window as wide as it will go. He judges the distance between your window and Jimin’s to be a few feet at most: Jimin’s TV is off now, but he can hear his former friend’s movements, the sound carrying clearly. He smirks to himself, making sure that he leaves the bathroom door fully open as he joins you in the main room.

You’re stood by the bed, shifting nervously. Taehyung sits in front of you, smiling before he rapidly pulls you on to his lap, making you yelp in surprise.

His mouth assaults your neck, “I love you,” he murmurs, continuing to declare his love for you in soft words that contrast with the firm, unyielding grip he has on you. His hand slides under your nightshirt, gliding up your smooth thigh while toying with the lace edge of your underwear.

“Sexy,” he whispers, “It’s making me hard.”

“Everything makes you hard,” you giggle, as he flicks open the buttons of at the top of the shirt, pushing the material open to see the swell of your breasts. He lowers his head, tracing your cleavage with the tip of his tongue. As you moan, Taehyung throws you back onto the pillows, throwing his jacket off as he clambers over you, settling between your legs.

“Everything about you makes me hard,” he clarifies. Your nipples harden in the cool room as heat grows between your legs and your underwear dampens. He nibbles at your breasts, tearing open the pyjama shirt; you make a cry of protest as the buttons scatter around you but your complaint is silenced as his hot mouth wraps around your nipple. He rolls his tongue around the stiff bud, nibbling and sucking with a fierce hardness that makes you moan loudly.

He lavishes attention on you, your back arches to get closer to him as he draws a pattern of moans and mewls from you. His cock aches, begging for attention; he guides your hand down between your bodies to feel his throbbing erection through his trousers, “Touch me,” he demands, his words forceful even if he says them with your nipple between his teeth.

He releases your hand to seek out the heat between your thighs as you undo him and free his stiff cock, quickly wrapping your fingers around his length with exact tightness he likes. You’re a quick learner too, he thinks, his breath getting heavier as your hand slides and twists along his length. His cock quickly grows slick in your grasp, lubricated with his leaking pre-cum. You tighten your grip, causing him to hiss and, with a deep grunt, he starts to thrust into your hand. In response, his fingers slip past the elastic of your underwear, seeking out your clit.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you cry out as his fingers quickly enter you. Grinning at you wetness, Taehyung kisses you in a messy frenzy as he finger fucks you to the rhythm of you jerking him off; his skilled hand rushes you towards orgasm as he thumbs your clit with fiery urgency to drive you over the edge. He knows from your gasps when you’re teetering on the brink.

It works: your orgasm rolls through you and he pushes your hand off his cock, replacing it with his own. Kissing you as he pumps his shaft, he bites your lower lip, growling, “Take me…”

You have little other choice: you whine as he pushes his cock through your folds, penetrating you in one forceful, strong thrust, only pausing to feel his balls press against you, straining with the effort of pushing in you as deeply as you can. He loves to ram his full length in you when you’re coming, your cunt clenching so tightly that it’s a strain to part your walls, every inch of his cock squeezed deliciously.

The fabric of his shirt and the buttons graze your bare breasts as he fucks into you, his hips rolling slowly. there’s something unbearably hot about the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re exposed beneath him. He savours every moment, enjoying the feel of his thick cock dragging against the tight grip of your cunt. His slow, agonising, delicious thrusts seem to last an age, his hot breath fanning your face as he enjoys drawing out the pleasure of your fucking, the room filled with moaning and the wet squelch of fucking. Finally, after long minutes that feel like an eternity he pauses, pressed deeply inside you, seemingly waiting.

Dazed with lust, you sound drunk as you question him, “Tae?” not understanding why he has paused. You feel his smile against your cheek before he raises his head to look at you.

“Talk to me,” he demands, “Tell me what you like. Tell me how I feel… I need to hear you baby,” his look is dark, possessive, desperate.

“Fuck me,” you comply softly.

“Louder,” he insists, “With better manners.”

“Fuck me,” you say, your voice resounding, “Please, please fuck me...”

He nods, satisfied before he pulls out a little and slams back in, making you cry out, “How do you want it?”

At the feeling of his cock twitching inside you, you abandon all embarrassment, “Fuck me hard, Tae,” you moan; he does as requested, his cock thrusting inside you, fucking you into the groaning, squeaking bed, the headboard clattering against the wooden wall behind, resounding through the room.

“Ah fuck,” you moan, “You feel so fucking good…”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, his mouth meeting yours before his thrusts become faster, rougher, harder, “You like my cock splitting you open?”

“I love it,” you cry out, your words fractured with the force of his fucking, “You’re so big, feels so good…”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, “Getting even wetter, my little whore… I know this turns you on.”

You moan and blush, “You turn me on,” you gasp, “Everything you do makes me want you more.”

He beams at your honesty, leaning back, careful to stay inside you. His hands hook under your thighs so he can hold you in place while he pounds into you with all he has, “Good fucking girl,” he praises as you cry out, his cock hitting you deeply, “I’m gonna ruin you.”

You roll your hips to meet his, another high building within you. You clench around him as he batters into you, thick and hard, “I’m so fucking hard for you,” he groans, “Can you feel it?”

“I can,” you manage to say as he wreaks havoc between your legs, “Love it so much… love you inside me.”

He kisses you, “Do you want me to come in you?” he teases, his voice low and sexy through breathlessness as he relentlessly drives into you, “’Cause I’m desperate to fill this tight cunt up.”

“It’s yours,” you cry out, knowing how obsessed he is with owning all that lies between your legs, “I’m aching for you Tae, need to feel you come for me…” It’s no exaggeration, without a shadow of a doubt, Taehyung’s cock is the biggest in length and girth that you’ve had. Even now, after weeks of fucking, when he goes hard there’s only so much you can take; your aching walls, stretched to accommodate him, burn and you know you are reaching the limit of what you can bear.

“Fuck,” he groans, “You take me so fucking well, my love… I’m going to come so hard in you that you’ll be dripping with my cum for days.”

You whimper, "Please Tae, I want it... I want you…" you beg, desperate for him.

He yanks your legs further apart before collapsing on you, biting down on your neck as he angles himself to fuck you deeper, grinding against your clit with each manic thrust. Your second orgasm hits you powerfully, your legs twitching and your walls spasming violently as shockwaves of pleasure roil through you in hot waves, crashing and cresting over each other. All you can do is cling to him, your hands fisting the material of his shirt as you wail his name, “Yes! Fucking hell, Tae…”

You cry out as his cock seems to stiffen and swell inside you, his thrusts painfully fast and hard. He cries out your name, slamming inside you to the hilt as his high hits him with the same intensity as yours did. His eyes glaze and his lips part as his cock throbs and pulses, pumping thick ropes of cum into you. He glistens above you, glowing angelically as he makes you filthy.

He kisses you as his mind clears, the heavy weight of his body pinning you in place as his hands tangle in your hair, holding your head in place so that his tongue can invade your mouth. You kiss him back with the same giddy, sloppy enthusiasm. The sound of your mouths meeting is only punctuated by your joint moans of satisfaction and exhaustion. Eventually, his cock softening, Taehyung’s kisses turn gentle, “Was it too much?” he asks, taking in your bruised neck, the shape of his teeth marking your collarbone.

You can only smile lazily, “I can never have too much of you,” you say truthfully, your lust for him overpowers the protests of you body. His boxy grin of delight in response fills your heart. He eases his weight off you as his cock slips out of your sore body.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he suggests, helping guide you on your shaky legs to the bathroom, giggling at your little trembling waddle as his cum drips down your thighs.

Later, he stares at the ceiling his mind drifting in thought; he’s flat on his back and knows he’ll need to move you before he can sleep, needing to wrap around you like a sloth. He won’t move you yet though, enjoying how you cling to him: you’re asleep on his chest, breathing heavily, your body wrapped around his.

He’s glad he’s fucked you stupid enough for you to rest easy tonight. He wonders how much of your disturbed sleep recently has been due to your guilty conscience at keeping secrets from him. Now, in the sober tranquility of his fucked out state he decides it doesn’t really matter: he watched you with Jimin today with keen eyes, he knows you won’t cheat on him, not ever. You’re his: body and soul. He also knows that Jimin must have heard enough of you getting railed senseless to know the same thing. So yes, you can have your secrets, for now at least.

Taehyung kisses your hair, pleased with his own magnanimity: The odd secret here or there never hurt anybody, he thinks, After all, he has more than a few of his own…

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

The sun set long ago over the city, defeated by a somnambulance of leaden clouds, subduing the last rays of light, yet no sleep comes to Jiho. His mind races and he cannot relax, the same thought spinning like a record in his mind, driving him to distraction as he struggles to resolve on what to do next. His thoughts are held prisoner by the recollection of Jimin’s account of Taehyung’s history; words and images echo through his mind like a looped film reel.

Frustrated beyond comprehension, he calls Siwon, unsurprised to find his friend as awake as he is, clearly plagued by the same pernicious thoughts. Together, they talk in circles about what was said until Jiho determines that something needs to be done. “This is so fucked,” he complains, “I can’t take it. I know we said we should think it over and I know I’m in said we should stay silent but I can’t think of anything else anymore! What can we do? Obviously, we can’t tell her, but surely we can do something?” he implores, trusting Siwon’s judgement.

He surprised when Siwon speaks that there is neither hesitation nor indecision in his friend’s voice, “I think that’s obvious,” Siwon says clearly and firmly, his tone that of steely conviction, “We need to get her the fuck away from him.”

<<< Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Nineteen >>>

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung scenarios #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub #no minors please

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ffion451 · 1 year

Text

Chapter Seventeen: I’m the One | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x f!reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️SMUT (m/f unprotected sex - a little bit rough), mild threat, references to alcohol, foul language

Word count: 4.2K

Note: Sorry this chapter has taken a little longer to publish - it’s taken me a while to find the time and space to write.

<<< Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Eighteen >>>

…Minho, I’ll be back soon.

That’s what you’d said; he’d missed the beginning as you’d rushed towards him, struggling to make your words out over the thudding beats of this awful club that you’re so fond of. You’d squeezed his hand, your eyes alive with excitement and then you left him behind. As he settles with your friends at a table, he feels a little disconcerted: you’ve only been together a week and this is your first time ‘out’ out together as boyfriend and girlfriend. Why would you leave him behind? If he’s shocked by your absence, then he’s even more surprised to see Minho pull up a seat beside him, Aera close behind.

Wait, so where are you? Taehyung thinks, Weren’t you heading off to see Minho? His eyes scan the crowd intently, trying to find you but he can’t see you anywhere. Beside him, Minho notices and catches on, leaning in to speak into Taehyung’s ear.

“She’s saying hello to people from where she used to work,” Minho explains.

Frowning, Taehyung replies, “She said she was heading to see you.”

Minho laughs, “No - wrong Minho,” he’s about to elaborate when a large group enter and it becomes rapidly clear that all your friends know these people, even if Taehyung doesn’t. Soon they’re all off their feet, hugging and greeting this other group, leaving Taehyung sat alone. Taehyung looks over the incomers, not recognising any faces but one: Jiho. Great, Taehyung thinks, grateful at least that Siwon is nowhere to be seen, not that it really matters. As far as Taehyung is concerned, he’s won; you’re his and not Siwon’s.

Jiho seems to pay no attention to Taehyung, which suits him fine. For now, being neglected suits Taehyung, it allows him to continue to search the club for your face, a quiet anxiety building within him. His scouring gaze finds you eventually but the relief he feels is short-lived: you’re talking to two men, one he recognises vaguely from running into him with you in the past but it’s the other unknown man that seems to occupy most of your attention.

He watches the tall, unsettlingly handsome stranger talk to you and everything sets him on edge: this man is leaning over you, reacting to what you’re saying with beaming smiles; he seems to be trying to find any excuse to touch you. Each stolen touch seems to embolden him: gentle grazes of your hand give way to a soft grip on your elbow, then your shoulder as he creeps closer and closer to you in the packed club. Taehyung doesn’t like the way the man’s hand comes to rest lying flat across your shoulder blade, his finger tips grazing the exposed skin at the back of your neck. Who’s this fucker? he sulks, careful to keep his face impassive as his blood temperature rises.

He watches as the man laughs uproariously at something you say, spilling his drink a little on his jacket. You move quickly to brush it off at the same time as he does, your hands meeting and he doesn’t miss the way the man gently squeezes your fingers before he releases your hand from his. Do that again and you won’t have a fucking hand, Taehyung seethes: it takes all the restraint he’s capable of not to cross the club and throw what remains of the guy’s drink in his smug, handsome face. Taehyung grits his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw, wondering how much more he can take.

Stood only a few feet away from Taehyung, Jiho smirks, watching the scene play out, enjoying your new boyfriend’s discomfort. Jiho has no reason to like Taehyung and, unlike Song Minho and your other friends, feels no need to find reasons to. So what if you’re dating him now? That doesn’t change Jiho’s feelings. Entering the club tonight, his only thought was that you must be mad to prefer this ass to Siwon. Now though, watching Taehyung watch you, Jiho doesn’t think of Siwon at all, instead a quiet unease builds in him without easy name or reason; all knows is that there is something that feels off.

Jiho isn’t the kind of person to sit with discomfort and he’s decisive by nature: Taehyung unsettles him and wants to know why.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“I didn’t realise you knew them,” you smile, indicating across the room to where your friends are gathered, “Come over and join us!”

Your former colleagues are more than willing, following you across the club where they catch up with your mutual friends, greeting each other with the same excitement that you’d shared to see each other after so long. As you approach, you quickly glance at your group, it shows everyone is stood chatting, but not Taehyung, he’s sat on a chair, legs spread wide. To anybody else Taehyung’s face is unreadable, completely blank and impassive, but you see the tightness in his jaw and you know he’s unhappy. Your eyes meet for a moment and he seems to relax, but then an arm wraps around you: Jiho smilingly guiding you into conversation, turning you away from Taehyung.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Taehyung’s heart sinks as you are turned away from him. Fed up, he’s about to get to his feet and interrupt when he sees you politely stepping away from your friends, your hands aloft in apology. He can’t make out what you’re saying as you step away from them, only the traces of his name on your lips.

One song bleeds into another as you move towards him, the slow, low base of I’m the One by Bloo rumbling through the club. Meeting your eyes again and your smile, Taehyung smiles for the first time since he set foot in this sticky-carpeted hell hole. When you reach him you don’t hesitate to take a seat on one of his legs - automatically he wraps his arm around you to steady you.

He opens his mouth to speak, but with your index and middle fingers you trace his jaw line, from ear to chin, and suddenly he can say nothing, his breath catching in his throat. His only response is the need to touch you back; his grip around you tightening, his other hand coming to rest just above your knee on your bare legs. He allows himself a satisfied smirk as your fingers dip beneath his chin, tilting his face up: his lips part in anticipation and you don’t disappoint, your mouth quickly meeting his. He pulls you closer, his hand sliding further up your thigh as the kiss deepens.

When you break from the kiss you whisper along to the lyrics, smiling against his mouth, “Tell me that you love me…”

He’s quick to respond, “I love you,” he mouths back. You suck his lower lip gently into your mouth, nipping it gently before you kiss him again.

When the two of you resurface from each other he smiles broadly at you, “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” you admit, “I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long.”

Your eyes are so clear, your voice so honest that he feels he ought to be too, “Who are the guys that took you away from me?”

“You know Kim Bum, we used to work together,” you say as he nods, “The other guy is my old boss, Lee Minho.”

Lee Minho… he thinks, That’s what you must’ve said. That was the Minho you were so excited to see, “You seemed very glad to see him,” he says evenly, trying to keep any hint of jealousy out of his voice. He ha a vague memory of you telling him about him, the former boss you had that was so wonderful…

“He’s a great guy,” you admit readily, “And was the best boss. We should go over and I’ll introduce you.”

“Why didn’t you just call me over?” Taehyung challenges, eyebrow raised. He wonders if you saw him seething jealousy and came over to appease him, the thought makes him feel a little embarrassed.

Even in the dark of the club he sees the blush flush across your throat as you squirm a little before you can finally speak, “It’s your fault, sitting here manspreading like that…” you admit.

Taehyung grins in relief. You’re still shy around him, but you’re getting better at admitting how you feel. He leans into you to whisper in your ear, “Tsk tsk… Let’s go say hi to your friends, then later I’ll take care of you, my dirty girl,” he smirks as he hears your sharp inhale, but when he pulls back and reads your face, he can see your excitement. He slaps your ass gently as you stand, interlacing his fingers with yours as he follows you towards your friends, happy to note that Jiho looks a little less smug that he had earlier.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“Did you tell him?” Aera asks as you stand at the sinks in the washroom much later in the night.

“Tell him what?” you spare her a quick glance in the mirror before returning to check your own face, your make up a little smudged from the sticky heat of the club.

“Where you’re going next weekend,” she elaborates patiently, “Or are you avoiding it?”

You sigh, “I’m avoiding it,” you admit; eyeliner tidied up, you turn to face her, “I don’t know why.”

She smiles kindly, “I think you do… I think you know he won’t like it and he’ll ask you not to,” you wince a little and she knows she’s on the right track and so presses on, “and if he does, what will you do then?”

Your jaw sets a little, “I won’t give in to him,” you say stoically, ignoring her look of disbelief, “I’ll stand my ground. I know you think I’ll just roll over and do what he asks, but I want to see this through.”

Aera places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Does he need to know yet?”

You know what she’s doing and are grateful for the options she’s giving you, the implicit message that she won’t judge you if you choose an easier path. You pat her arm, “No, I suppose he doesn’t need to know quite yet,” a look, heavy with unspoken meaning, passes between the two of you before you head back into the club.

You’re barely through the double swing doors that lead back into the main rooms when you part from Aera; she heads for the bar and you back to your table. You’re no more than a few steps from the floor when arms wrap around you from behind: your whole body tenses before Taehyung’s deep rumble reassures you, his lips pressing into your hair, “Come with me.”

He walks you gently backwards for the few steps it takes to have you back through the swing doors and into the dimly lit passage way that leads to the restrooms. A clunking thud of metal confuses you as Taehyung reaches for the fire door; your breath is stolen by the chilled night air as he guides you out into the alley beyond. It’s all so quick that you’re disorientated and confused.

The next instant, you’re unceremoniously pressed into the cold concrete wall, the rough stone scratching at your face as Taehyung presses you against it, pinning you with his body. His lips are on your neck, his rapidly hardening cock grinds against the cleft of your ass. He grunts as he sucks a large and visible bruise into your neck, marking you as his. Finally, breathless, he eases his attentions; removing a bar coaster from his pocket, hr folds it around the latch of the door before pressing it closed, “So we can get back in,” he explains.

The sound of the club is instantly muffled and so his hot breath against your ear feels amplified, his words reverberating through your skull, “I need you,” he growls.

“Like this?” You ask meekly, the question rendered redundant as he hikes your dress up over your hips.

“Like this,” he confirms gutturally as he undoes his belt, you feel the fabric of his trousers slide downwards against your thighs as they pool around his ankles.

Using his knee, he parts your legs wider before his hands come to rest over yours that cling to the wall. With surprising gentleness he guides your hands in front of your face, your palms splayed over the concrete, “Don’t hurt yourself,” he explains as your sore cheek presses against the back of your hand instead of the rough wall.

Then the gentleness his gone as quickly as it appeared: your underwear, damp with desire, is pushed swiftly to one side as he guides his tip through your folds, his fingers pressing against the head, guiding himself inside you.

“So wet for me,” he moans deeply, his other hand colliding with wall beside your head as the other grips your waist, holding you in place as he pushes the rest of his length inside you in one swift, hard thrust. As you cry out, he groans in satisfaction to be so deeply buried within you, his breath only rapid gasps as he controls himself.

“So fucking tight for me, good girl,” he praises before he begins. He fucks you without restraint, driving into you fiercely with rapid thrusts, his hips snapping against your ass, the smack of flesh against flesh resounding through the narrow space. You can do nothing as he has his way with you, only whimper his name. His grip on you is punishingly tight as he releases all the jealousy and tension that has built tonight through claiming your body. He hisses through his teeth as he rams inside you, spitting occasional words of praise and lust, overwhelmed by the tight grip of your warm cunt around his throbbing length.

He’s so forceful and out of control that you know he won’t last; this is frenzied, raw sex and his mind is empty of everything other than the need to come. Not long later the rhythm of his battering thrusts falters. He slams himself to the hilt inside you, making you half-scream, half-gasp as you collide with the wall, pressed tightly against it. The rough stone scratches your skin, your hard nipples sore against it’s unforgiving surface as Taehyung moans your name, coming hard inside you, fucking his cum as deeply as he can.

“Fuck, can’t get enough of you,” he gasps as he comes down from his high, pulling your underwear back over you as he slips out of your aching cunt, “Keep my cum inside you,” he instructs as he pulls his trousers back up, giving you the space to shimmy your dress back down your legs, your thighs pressed together.

As soon as you turn to face him, he’s on you again. He’s much more tender now, cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. The kiss is sweet, but you feel filthy when you clench in response, his cum running out of you and pooling in your underwear.

He presses his sweat-glazed forehead to yours, “You good?” he asks.

“A little sore,” you admit.

“Hmm,” he purrs, “Shall we go home so I can take care of you? Wanna fuck all my cum back into you, wanna make you come for me,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours again.

When he pulls away you simply nod and he smiles his bright little rectangular smile, “Let’s go,” he enthuses, pulling at the cardboard edge of the coaster so you can get back in the club.

Taehyung’s goodbyes are quicker than yours, but he’s not sorry for it. He smirks as he leans against the wall, watching you say farewell to your friends and former colleagues. He watches Lee Minho’s eyes flicker to your bruised neck, you squirm slightly, your legs pressed together. His eyes narrow as the man hugs you, and wonders if he can smell Taehyung on you… Does he suspect Taehyung’s cum is dripping out of you as you offer him that sweet, embarrassed smile?

He doesn’t miss that Lee Minho’s eyes are still on you as you turn from him, heading back to Taehyung. As he shrugs your coat on you, Taehyung smiles ingratiatingly back at your former boss, before subtly making a point to do up his fly with an embarrassed gesture; he wants to leave no doubt about whom you belong to.

His cock twitches in his pants as he guides you to the parking garage, and to his car. He reaches for the door handle to help you inside but instead, pushes you against the door lustfully, his mouth finding yours again. He kisses you for long minutes, his hand creeping between you. His fingers push your sticky underwear to one side once more, he plays with your clit and his cum in a messy combination as you pant into his mouth, whimpering as you reach your high. Seeing your glazed, fucked out expression is all he needs as he drives you back to his. He’s grateful that both Sam and Namjoon are away because he intends to fuck you until the sun rises, desperate to hear you cry out his name as you fall apart on his cock.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

“I hope we can hang out again,” Minho says as he shrugs on his jacket, “It’d be cool.”

They say their goodbyes and wave him out of the pub. With a tight smile, Siwon turns to Jiho, “Yeah, maybe not… He’s a cool guy but I don’t think that I want to see her and him together yet.”

Jiho nods, “You definitely don’t, he’s the possessive type. I don’t think you’d get much time with her without him pawing at her every five minutes or dragging her off to fuck her in a closet.”

Siwon purses his lips, “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully, “Well, as long as she’s happy I guess…”

Jiho leaps on his words, “Would you be happy with that?”

Siwon sighs, familiar with Jiho’s dislike of Taehyung, “It’s their business, not ours.”

Jiho rolls his eyes, taking a long swig of beer before signalling to the bar staff for another round, “You give up too easily.”

It’s Siwon’s turn to roll his eyes in response, “What are you talking about?” he questions, “Even when we were dating she was in love with him. There’s nothing to give up on. Anything she and I had going on is done. Finished. Over. Kaput.”

Jiho raises a brow, “Only while she’s still with him…”

Siwon laughs, “Yeah? And how likely is it that they’ll split?” he snorts, “To hear Jihoon talk, they’re crazy for each other.”

It’s no great leap for him to believe it. Yet, even now, after so much time, it’s still a hard truth for Siwon to own. He doesn’t blame you, you’d always been honest with him, laid bare your true feelings like cloth before him, Taehyung shot through the warp and weft of your heart. But then Taehyung had been a too-tight stitch, pulling cruelly and distorting the pattern and so, albeit foolishly, Siwon had hoped, hoped against hope that he’d find his way to your heart, a gentler force than Taehyung.

Jiho smirks, “For now, maybe… but only because she’s infatuated with him. If she could see him the way I do, the way he really is, if she would just open her eyes, maybe she’d feel differently.”

Siwon takes a long drink of his own beer, smacking his lips together before he replies, “Don’t get involved,” he cautions, “You won’t convince her of anything by saying you don’t like his vibes, you’ll just lose a friend.”

“Don’t worry,” Jiho advises, stretching back in his chair and nodding at someone entering the pub, “I won’t say anything for a while, and when I do it’ll be plain facts.”

Brow furrowing, Siwon looks over his shoulder at the man approaching their table before looking back at Jiho with puzzlement, “Who’s this guy?”

Jiho grins, his smile wolfish, “The bearer of truths,” he says cryptically, just as the man joins them. Jiho bounds to his feet, greeting the newcomer with a shoulder bump and a smile as he signals for another drink to be added to the order.

Siwon doesn’t recognise the man who bows politely to him, but he nods his head respectfully in reply. As they sit, Jiho makes introductions, “This is Choi Siwon, he’s my very oldest and closest friend,” Siwon smiles in response as the man half-bows again, “Siwon, meet Park Jimin, my newest friend - we have a shared interest.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jimin states as the beers arrive, while a confused Siwon nods.

“Do you want somaek?” Jiho offers Jimin, reaching towards the soju and shot glasses on the table.

“No thanks,” he demurs, “I have a really busy day tomorrow.”

If Siwon was confused about what was going on before, he’s puzzled further by the conversation that follows, Jimin elaborating on the plans he has tomorrow with you.

Irritated that he seems to be being drawn into some kind of scheme, Siwon interrupts, “So she’s the shared interest? What’s going on here?”

“No,” Jiho clarifies, “Our shared interest is Kim Taehyung,” Siwon doesn’t miss how Jimin bristles at the sound of your boyfriend’s name.

Turning his gaze to Jimin, Jiho’s voice drops confidentially quiet, “Jimin here was best friends with Taehyung back in high school, and has some interesting stories to share. Don’t you?”

Jimin grins, and Siwon notes it’s of the same shape of Jiho’s earlier one: the smile of a predator, “Oh yes,” he says sweetly, though acid bubbles beneath his soft voice, “Taehyung and I go way back. I know him better than anyone.”

Siwon watches the look that passes between Jiho and Jimin and his stomach twists in discomfort: he doesn’t want to be part of whatever is happening here, the atmosphere sets him on edge. He has the urge to call it a night and head home… Yet he doesn’t, remaining in his place, beer in hand.

In the time he was with you, Siwon came to care about you a great deal. At one time he hoped that you’d move on from Taehyung, believing if you did then you and he could have a real chance at something serious and lasting together. Siwon has felt the call of domesticity for some time now and it was all too easy to imagine you, with your soft warmth and kind heart as the woman he’d come home to. He’s let go of that hope now, but it’s left traces behind: he’d stitched you into his vision of the future, and though the dream has been unpicked, threads and fibres remain. That lasting affection for you keeps him in his seat as Jimin begins to unfurl his tale.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Across town, oblivious to the machinations taking place, Taehyung smooths damp tendrils of hair from your face, noticing your knotted brow. He kisses your warm, flushed skin, hoping to ease your troubled dreams.

He’s grateful that this Friday night he’s had you all to himself, the rooftop picnic he’d planned for you two had been everything he wanted, just like a romantic scene from a drama.

You’re the one, you’re everything he could ever want: someone he can talk to and laugh with; someone who comforts him but also needs his comfort; someone who loves with the same deep passion he does; someone who’s soul shares the same language as his; someone he craves with a passion written into his bones.

He smirks to himself, remembering the point where the romance turned x-rated: his cock in your mouth and fingers in your hair; the soft mewls you made, your hands fisting at the blanket beneath you as he ate you out; the night breeze against his hot skin as he fucked you, long, slow and gentle under the string lights; the softness of jazz and sounds of the city below muffling your desperate cries as he drew orgasm after orgasm from you. Finally then, fucked full of his cum and exhausted, he’d bathed your aching body with his, your back pressed to his chest as the warm water soothed your sore frame.

Now, lying beside you, his cock twitches and he wants you again: he won’t take you though, you need to rest and he’s not an animal. He knows you have a busy work weekend, you’ve been vague about the details, but he can see how stressed and anxious you are about it. He’ll support you through it, having packed you treats to take away with you, ready for any possible craving or need you might have. This is new to him, being the boyfriend and doing all the things that people do in relationships. He loves it.

He loves you.

With a final kiss to your temple, he wraps his body around yours and drifts into a deep sleep that’s far more peaceful than your own.

<<< Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Eighteen >>>

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung imagine #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub #no minors please

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