#taehyung angst imagine
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i
✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love
word count: 3,328
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content
sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events
playing: Unkiss Me
a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰
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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.
He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.
Recent ex-wife that is.
For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.
That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.
Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.
But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.
Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.
After all, you deserve it; you both do.
Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.
"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.
"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.
He doesn't blame you for that either.
As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.
Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)
"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.
"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."
"He misses you."
"I'm sorry?"
"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."
Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.
Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.
"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."
"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.
"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.
Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"
You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"
"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"
"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.
Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.
"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.
"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."
"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."
You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.
The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.
"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.
"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."
"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.
"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.
"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."
The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.
"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"
"Jungkook..."
"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.
"Wait!"
Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.
"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.
Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.
It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.
With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.
You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.
"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."
"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.
"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.
"Did you—"
"No, they weren't for you."
A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.
Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.
"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.
You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.
"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."
"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.
"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."
"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."
"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"
You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."
"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.
"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.
You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.
"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.
"Hm?"
"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.
"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.
You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.
"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."
"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.
"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.
Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."
Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.
Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.
"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.
"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."
You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.
Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.
You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.
Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.
a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘
Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagines#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts au#bts imagines#bts fanfics#bts x reader#fic:guiltypleasures#kookslastbutton
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Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.
“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.
“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.
He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.
This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.
Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head.
Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.
“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused.
It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam.
“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking.
Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain.
“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”
Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you?
“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it.
They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of.
“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for.
—
Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you.
Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you.
“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”
He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.
You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much.
He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary.
“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words.
You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.
“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”
He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad.
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”
The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.
—
You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away.
You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started.
So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.
Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always one of patience.
You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.
“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.
His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.
You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.
He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.
“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.
You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.
“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.
That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.
“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”
He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.
—
“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”
The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves.
Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up.
The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh.
How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over.
—
Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself.
“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do.
He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.
“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day.
Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort.
You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve.
When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little.
“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”
He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet.
“Doyouhateme?”
The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.
“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”
You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him.
“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”
That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence?
Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face.
—
You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did.
The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm.
If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped.
Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged.
He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.
Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence.
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer.
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.
He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.
“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.
He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.
“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”
You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.
“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”
“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”
—
The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted.
The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out.
And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.
“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.
He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.
“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”
You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.
“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.
“No.”
“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.
“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”
“You can’t b-“
Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.
Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.
You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.
You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.
The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow.
No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame.
—
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.
“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.
“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.
“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not.
“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”
He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?
“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”
He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good.
“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.
Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.
“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”
“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”
“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”
“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”
“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”
The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.
The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.
“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”
Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.
“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”
—
If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear.
You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?
Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.
You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?
His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.
His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread.
He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.
The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself.
They lied.
They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust.
You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you.
“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you.
They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.
“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”
Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out.
You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again.
He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.
“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you.
—
When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.
It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.
Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.
He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.
He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.
What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?
Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.
The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.
—
He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.
“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.
It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.
“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly.
“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth.
“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.
“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”
“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.
“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.
The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says.
“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…
“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.
“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”
Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched.
“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”
“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks.
“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there.
The older four men look at eachother knowingly.
“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously.
“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”
As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.
Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.
#this chapter has very little Namjoon (although I feel he makes an impact) but that’s okay the next chapter is Namjoon centric#bts au#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts angst#bts ot7 x reader#bts yandere!au#bts yandere#yandere bts#bts imagines#bts writing#bts mafia!au#bts mafia series#bts mafia au#namjoon mafia au#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#jin x you#yandere yoongi#yoongi au#yandere hoseok#hoseok mafia au#hobi au#jimin x you#yandere jimin#taehyung x reader#yandere taehyung#jungkook x reader#jungkook mafia#yandere jungkook
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the art of obsession | kim taehyung
summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.
✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]
✎ 17.4K words
“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.
The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.
Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.
With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.
You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.
As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.
He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.
“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.
“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”
At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”
“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”
Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”
You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.
You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.
All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.
Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.
At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.
In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.
Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.
The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.
You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.
The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.
There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.
“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”
The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”
You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”
“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.
“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”
Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.
What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?
These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.
You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.
You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.
You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.
He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.
The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.
Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.
You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.
The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.
He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.
At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.
“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.
“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.
Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”
His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.
“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.
“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”
Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.
It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.
Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.
It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.
“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”
He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“
“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”
“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.
Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”
“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”
“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”
“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.
As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.
Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.
He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.
“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”
You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”
Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”
The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.
“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”
His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“
“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”
Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.
Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.
He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.
With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.
Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.
They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.
Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.
That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”
“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.
“My name is—“
“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”
You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”
“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”
He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”
“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”
You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”
“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”
He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.
“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”
You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”
It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”
The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.
“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”
“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.
You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.
Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.
He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.
It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.
“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.
When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”
For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.
At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.
A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.
A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.
His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.
The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.
Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.
It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“No.”
He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”
You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.
The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.
When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.
You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.
“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”
“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”
His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”
“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”
“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.
“Are we ready to order?”
Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”
Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.
Why do you ignore me so much?
You’re always too busy painting to notice me?
Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.
It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.
The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.
“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”
“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”
“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”
“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”
“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”
You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.
Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.
A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.
“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.
“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”
He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.
In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”
You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”
He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”
By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.
“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.
“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.
“But what is it that you believe it to be?”
The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.
You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.
There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”
“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.
“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.
“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.
“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.
“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”
“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”
Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”
“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”
Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”
A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”
You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”
“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.
How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?
You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”
Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”
His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”
The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.
“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”
Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”
“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”
“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”
That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”
A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.
Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”
You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.
“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”
“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”
Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”
The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.
You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.
He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.
The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.
You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.
Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.
A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.
You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.
His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.
With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.
You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”
He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.
Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.
He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.
His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.
"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.
When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.
“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.
There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.
Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.
“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.
There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.
Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.
A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.
“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.
“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.
As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.
Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.
“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.
Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.
“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.
Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.
“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.
Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.
Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”
“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.
“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.
“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”
He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.
Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.
“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”
You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”
“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.
For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”
“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”
“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”
It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.
“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”
The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.
You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.
It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.
There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.
His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”
Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?��
Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”
Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”
“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”
There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.
It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.
The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.
Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.
You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.
Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.
You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”
You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.
Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”
He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”
“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”
“Can I watch?”
Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.
By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.
It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.
Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.
Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.
You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.
Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.
“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.
You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”
Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”
Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”
“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”
“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”
“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”
“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.
“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”
Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.
Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.
There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.
After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”
“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”
You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.
There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.
He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”
“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”
All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.
It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.
Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard
“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.
A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”
It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.
It was you.
You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.
Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.
“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.
“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].
“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.
“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”
Kim Namjoon.
Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.
“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.
Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.
Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”
Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”
Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.
You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”
“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”
“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”
“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”
His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.
“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”
“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”
A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”
You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.
Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”
“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.
“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.
“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.
There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.
“Namjoon.”
He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?
“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”
The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”
“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”
Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”
Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”
He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”
“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?
Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.
“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”
“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”
Namjoon didn’t get it.
So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?
Was it not that you might love each other?
Was it just that you two understood each other?
He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.
It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?
Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?
How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?
::.
okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling
#kim taehyung#bts taehyung#taehyung smut#taehyung au#taehyung#taehyung imagine#Taehyung fic#Taehyung fanfic#taehyung oneshot#taehyung one shot#taehyung x reader#taehyung x oc#Taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#bts angst#bts fic#bts imagines
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a bleeding bruise
╰┈➤ synopsis — Two failures have unfolded tonight. A failed escape attempt on your part, and a punishment that leaves more lasting damage then the boys had expected.
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 4.2k
╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, assault, verbal abuse, injury, strong language, angst, jk’s a bit of a jerk :(
ੈ♡₊˚｡ over to ⇢ pt.2
“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!” Shrill screams suffocate the silence. Your useless pleas are ignored as three men carry you back to where you belong. “I WON’T DO IT AGAIN, PLE-”
“BE QUIET!” Jungkook muffles your crying with the palm of his hand. He masks his words with anger to hide his anguish. Your tears create a hole in his heart.
Three sets of hands grasp you tightly. Their rough grip leaves raw imprints onto your wrists and waist. You try to squirm under their hold, and it works for a second when you free your legs to try and kick at them. In the end the struggling creates more problems when Taehyung tears you apart from the others and throws you over his shoulder.
You pound your fists against his back and continue begging to be let go. Pathetic pleas of ‘Please let me go,’ ‘I’ll be good now,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ fall down to the forest floor. Your punches grow more panicked and as you fight through your fury, Jimin grabs your wrists to stop you.
“Stop hurting him.” He pleads with you in a gentle tone. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears, but he chokes his cries back by begging. “I love you, I love you, why can’t you make this easy.” His hushes are spoken as they continue to walk.
Small crystals begin to fall from the sky. Your own crying is muted by Taehyung’s sweater. Your sadness leaves stains that he’ll have to worry about later.
While Jungkook leads the way back to the house, Jimin mutters pretty prayers that you won’t hate them after this punishment. He strokes your hanging head and says, “This is for the better, you’ll understand once it’s over.”
Jungkook successfully navigates your way through the forest and the backyard of your home peeks out of the treeline. Once you step out under the protection of the bristles and branches, the rain begins to leave you drenched. It’s an uncomfortably cold wetness that makes you shift atop Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung lead you to the middle of the backyard and you’re lifted off Tae’s shoulder to stand on two feet.
You shiver against Taehyung’s chest. He holds you tightly to him with his gentle hands holding your hips. His touch doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to let you know you won’t be able to get away again. He stares straight ahead to where Jungkook walks away back into the house. An anxious feeling buries its way into your bones once you pick up on his nervous ticks. He shifts his weight and tugs you tighter against him. His jaw is clenched, keeping secrets stored about what sort of punishment you’ll be subject to. Despite being so close, he keeps his distance. Usually so affectionate, now he doesn’t make a move to melt into you. He keeps his head up against the rain and doesn’t spare you a single look.
Jimin can barely contain the nervous jitters that jostle him. His uneasy eyes switch between you and Jungkook’s figure now emerging from the house. He carries cold chains that hang over his shoulders and wrap around his wrists. They’re so long that the excess drags down behind him.
The sight of the chains instills an instant panic. You tremble against Taehyung’s touch and forget how to breathe when Jungkook’s footsteps get closer. Shocked by a sudden rush of adrenaline, you strike Taehyung in the gut and turn to run. You only make it a few steps before you’re forced to the ground. Jimin slams into you and you fall face-first into the cement. He catches your arms as they thrash about and holds them in a vice-grip. Taking your wrists with one hand, he reaches down to your waist and flips you over.
The next thing you see is Taehyung in front of your face. He straddles over you with his knees restraining your legs. His hands slide up to your shoulders, staring at you with dead eyes.
You’re forced away from Taehyung’s gaze when Jungkook tugs at your hair, turning your eyes up to focus on him.
“If you want to act like an ungrateful bitch, then we’ll treat you like one.” The venom he spits strikes your heart. It stings to be subject to his twisted tongue. Cruel words collide with their punches. The cold chain wrapped around your leg is the only thing keeping you connected with the world. You’re so sure that if you didn’t have this steel tether, you’d be beaten down to hell by the heat of their attacks.
You’re struck with kicks and punches from one while another assaults you with rotten words. Someone else is settled at your side, holding down your body despite your stillness.
You blocked out most of their beating. Seeing those loveless eyes sent you into isolation. The bleeding and bruising so overwhelming that you ended up running away from your mind. Yet, you remember the rain. It cried alongside you, relentless and cruel. Your focus found the sky and stayed there until they were done.
A semi-silence wraps itself around the four of you. Only small pants for breathe and soft sobbing are audible. The rain blends into the background as you focus on the three men that now stand above you. It’s so dark out you can hardly see their faces. Black borders surround your shaking body and stare. You now realize that this midnight madness has come to an end.
You now sit as a sobbing mess under the crying sky. The rain ricochets off your beaten body. Rain and tears fall forever; all sorrow is soaked back into the earth. The cold air kisses all the skin you have to spare. The metal chain wrapped around your leg clanks together due to your violent shaking.
No matter how much the cold bites at your back, your heart feels more frostbitten. You can barely even feel the phantom kicks and punches anymore. Your mind only replays the memories of them turning their backs as you beg.
Did you really go too far? Did you fuck up so badly that life will be even more tortuous than before? Even if you hated them for stealing your freedom and feelings away, at least they loved you. They showed you kindness and empathy. Such curious killers that haven’t shown you any animosity since they stole you away.
Each raindrop that falls rips into your heart even further. This punishment is proof of your wrongdoing. You don’t even care about the beating at this point, you only yearn to be loved. To be caressed and cradled with care. Do they still love you? Can you prove to them that you can be better than this, that you will be better. Even a hopeless situation can feel the opposite when love turns your attention the other way.
You hadn’t even felt scared when they began to cut and kick you. You deserved it didn’t you? How selfish of you to keep denying these soulmates your love. They’ve given everything they have to make you happy and you went and threw it in the trash.
You don’t want to suffer any more. Maybe making the best out of this broken life will bring better days.
As you lay lifeless on the pavement, scarlet sorrows spill out of you. It covers the concrete and coats every inch of your existence. As you fall under sleeps spell, you dream of three men. You imagine a man with black hair holding you close. The second fights off the rain with an air of annoyance. And the final illusion soothes away your sadness.
Taehyung finds himself trying to fight off the darkness that suffocates him. The house is too silent and still. It makes him anxious. He wants to peek out the window to check the damage they’ve done, but Jimin grabs his shoulder and guides him upstairs. A dark despair stains the cream carpet as he slowly makes his way upstairs. Jimin and Jungkook drag themselves ahead of him. A heavy weight holds them down. Their shoulders slump and their smiles sag.
So slowly, they remove their shoes as they continue their steps and throw them every which way. Soaked shirts and wet pants are quickly taken off.
“We’ll just leave her like that for a little bit.” Jungkook mumbles with an exhausted expression. “Once we warm up and clean off we can go back and get her.”
“Isn’t that too long?” Jimin holds hesitance between two lips. His eyebrows frown and he purses his lips in pain. Everything about Jimin shows he’s doubting his decisions. He already began to regret his actions once the rain relapsed.
“She has to realize there’s consequences for her dumb decisions.” Jungkook stares into Jimin and his tired teary eyes give away everything. “I love her too and I don’t like hurting her. But we can’t let her think she can try running away whenever she wants.”
“But what if she just ends up hating us even more.” Jimins words tremble with terror. Shining streaks start to fall off his face as he fails to hold back his tears.
Taehyung turns Jimin towards him and rubs his shoulder as an attempt to soothe him. “She just has to learn her lesson. Then we’ll rush right back out and fix everything. We’ll clean her cuts and warm her up,” Taehyung tilts his head to look Jimin in the eyes. “It’ll be okay.”
No one says anything about the lie that leaves Taehyung’s lips. Hopeless words slide down a throat better when they’re coated in honey. Three men tell each other little lies to keep themselves from collapsing. However, they can only float in a fool’s paradise for so long before they come crashing down.
As the three men take turns in the shower, a sick sense of guilt begins to smother them. A cold chill creeps into their bones that not even a sweltering shower can wash away.
An hour has passed by before they decide your punishment has reached its end. The clock strikes 2 and three sets of feet stumble over each other. Everyone trying to be the first to erase their terrible torment. The boys scramble down the stairs, only tripping two times in the restless race.
They pick you up off the pavement and you welcome their warmth in the rain.
You cling to Jimin like an extra layer of clothes; he holds you in his arms with a warm welcome. He tugs you closer to his chest, small squeezes and sniffles fill in the silence. In an awkward position, Jimin shuffles the both of you into the house and upstairs with Taehyung leading the way. Jungkook trails closely behind, shushing your cries and smoothing down your hair.
They don’t speak about the pain and punishment other than the consistent mumbles of ‘I’m sorry.’
Your silence scares them. Somehow, it feels easier to be faced with your hatred and indifference than nothing at all. Although, they still hang on to a small sliver of hope that they haven’t lost you yet. They can see the subtle way you grasp onto Jimin’s jacket; holding on with white knuckles as if it’s a lifeline. There’s a shimmer of sadness in your eyes, bordering on bittersweet emotions. They can tell you’re hanging onto the same fated string as them. The four of you have nothing but hope.
These three men don’t know how to be gentle. They’re love is rough and full of risks. And you don’t know how to be docile. You’d weren’t made to shrink down smaller just so they can control you. But when you reach the bathroom and they tell you to sit, you obey so easily. This change is for the better. The first step to an easier life. Four fated fools that all long for love. Stripping away the pieces of singularity to forcibly fit the puzzle.
You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Taehyung sat at your side to keep you company. Jungkook and Jimin have wandered off to wherever they went. Most likely getting stacks of medical supplies. Taehyung takes your hand and rests his head on your shoulder. You lean back against the mirror, screwing your eyes closed when another sharp sting of pain presses into your side. Taehyung gives a squeeze to the hand he’s holding, silently begging the boys to hurry up. As if they heard his prayers, Jungkook and Jimin reach the bathroom in record time. Jimin takes a seat on the toilet while Jungkook rummages through the first aid kit.
The small boy at your side lays his head down on your leg. His tears sink into your soaked blue jeans. Anxieties taste like acid on his tongue. And when he leaves lingering kisses to the cuts that litter your legs, that tainted taste is now blurred with blood. He wears your crimson carnage like lipstick. The blood smeared all across his face. Attempting to drown out your pain with passion. His kisses then crawl upwards. Coming close to the cuts on your stomach that Jungkook is stitching up. Every time you wince from the needle stabbing into your skin, Tae and Jimin take turns trying to distract you.
While Jungkook cleans up your cuts, he asks the others to tend to your bruises. Taehyung takes the ointment from Jungkook’s open hands. He takes a generous amount and mixes it around, efficiently warming it up. Heartbroken bruises burn against his tender touch. The tiniest of touches burns through your bones. A small gasp that stumbles out of your lips causes him to still. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to tell him to continue.
Through clenched teeth you mumble a weak, “Keep going.” He hesitates but abides by your words. He traces your bruises with the tips of his fingers, leaving behind hearts that beg for forgiveness. He stares at your scarlet stained features while he trails shapes up your hips and along your arms. A look of pain is plastered on your face. He shares your sadness, taking each tear that escapes your eyes as another stab of torment.
Jungkook stands between your legs. He works with a deep set determination. Diligent and dangerous with how he handles the needle. He’s quick with every stitch, cursing under his breath every time you pull back in pain. And every so often, when a scarce cry escapes you, he lets his hand slip. Stabbing his skin ever so slightly to feel even an inkling of the pain he’s caused you. Putting pressure on the cut and combining your blood with his.
Jungkook tries to keep you as steady as possible while he puts together the pieces of their destruction. He lets you lean into Taehyung’s chest and be tainted with touches by Jimin. He doesn’t have time to envy their affections. So, he keeps on stitching, doing the dirty work when the others can’t bear the burden.
Taehyung and Jimin wrap you in white bandages. You lay limply against Jungkook. Breathing shallow breaths and whispering into his ear, “Do you still love me?”
Jungkook could cry right there. Break down in the bathroom under the weight of his wrongdoing. He can’t hide his emotions when it comes to you. He struggles to stay strong. Hot tears trail down his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the teardrops will come to a stop.
“How could you ever think that?” His voice shakes under ultimate sadness. “I love you more than you can imagine. So much so that it makes me sick, and I can’t stand the thought of you ever leaving me. Leaving us.” He raises his hand to run through your hair. Gently pushing your face down to sit on his shoulder. Away from his face and naive to the sobs he tries to stifle.
When they finish fixing you up, you’re held together by silver string and rotten, red kisses. Taehyung pulls you off the counter and cradles you close to his heart. He carries you to the bedroom and doesn’t let go even when you’ve already reached the bed. He sits you on his lap and watches as the other two rush around him. In a frantic frenzy, they rush to turn off the lights (leaving on the bedside lamp), bundle you in blankets, and grab a dry change of clothes.
When Jungkook can’t seem to find your clothes fast enough, Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Sliding off his shirt and slipping it over your shoulders. He then works to slide off your drenched jeans. He leaves your legs bare but covers you in a burden of blankets. Tucking in the corners and tying you up tight.
Jimin enters the room with water and what seems to be small pills. He kneels down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee and holding out a remedy.
“Take these,” he drops the pills into your empty palm, “and drink some water to wash them down.” You pop the pills into your mouth one by one, washing them down with the water.
Once everything starts to settle, silence shushes the room and darkness bleeds in through the blinds. You all begin to feel the remnants of your adrenaline-rush. An uneasy exhaustion sticks to your skin. You crawl under the covers and seek solace in their embrace.
Taehyung drags his fingertips over the skin of your spine. A gentle touch that attempts to settle your shivers and sooth your sadness. The movements are slow, and he distracts himself by counting each indent his fingers reach. He’s cautious to avoid the cuts and bruises, still fresh and fragile. He repeats this motion for many minutes as a way to take both your minds off everything.
Taehyung doesn’t like to think back on the events that unfolded only hours ago. Your betrayal and beating are tucked away behind blinds in the darkest parts of him. Taehyung tucks away his turmoil and sinks into the sheets. He shimmies down deeper into the mass of blankets and bodies. He hopes tomorrow won’t turn out as terrible as today; wishing on a star that you’ll begin to settle into your new life with new lovers. If you never love them like they want, then you’ll just have to learn how. Playing pretend in a dollhouse made for demons.
The silence is split by Jungkook’s concern, “Baby? Are you sure you’re okay?” After the damage they’re done he feels the need to double check everything.
Your mouth is sealed shut. The words you want to speak stick to your insides. You settle for a small nod against Taehyung’s shoulder. The youngest man outstretches his hand to stroke your hair. With such softness, he presses your head into the pillow. He then makes himself more comfortable, sliding into the sheets and slotting himself in between Taehyung’s touch, and the wall. He does so without lifting the hand that holds your head.
“You’re tired aren’t you? Just try to fall asleep. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” You give a grunt in response. Taehyung’s silent strokes are sending you to sleep, and Jungkook’s fingers running through your hair finally set your heart at ease. Your tiredness takes over and dizzy dreams dance in the distance.
Before you fall asleep, Taehyung tells you one last thing, “I’m sorry we hurt you… I’m sorry we’re so selfish… But we can’t let you go.”
You wake during a wilted sunrise. Pink clouds are beaten bloody leaving bloodstains to soak the sky. The red tint of the light lingers above you. The blinds allow just the slightest sliver of sunshine into the room.
Your tired eyes struggle to see in the dark. Fighting off the fatigue only takes a minute or two before clarity can calm you. You drag your head up higher on Taehyung's chest, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He sleeps soundly under the scarlet sunrise. Short puffs of air tickle your nose whenever he takes a breath.
You look over to your left and see that Jungkook is also a slave to slumber. His youthful features appear worn and weary even in his sleep.
Even if you can’t check behind you to see, you can only assume that Jimin hasn’t woken up from your movement. As his body had sunken into soft slumber, his weight seemed to have doubled. Heavy limbs are draped over you with a possessive person that lags behind. This burden begins to grow painful as your fresh bruises blossom in irritation. You shift closer to Tae, trying to escape the pressure that piles on top of you. When you move only a millimeter to the left, you’re stuck with a sudden pain that leaves you paralyzed. Shot with an icy wave of shock, you struggle to suck in a single breath. A crippling pain swarms in your stomach. It stirs up a sickness that threatens to spill out of you. You slap a hand to your mouth, forcing the feeling back down.
Once the nausea wanes away, the ache in your abdomen appears to triple. You attempt to stifle a sob, but you should have known that any slight discomfort from you is bound to be discovered. Jungkook begins to stir from the subtle noise.
He can feel you trembling under his touch. Your name falls from his lips in pure panic. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. His hands ghost over the bruises that are turning blue. A frown forms when looking at the white bandages that cover the cuts he caused. When he can’t find anything out of the ordinary, he switches his sight to stare right into your eyes. “Is it hurting again? Is it the bruises or the cuts?” Concern chokes him. Sin and shame sting like a venom in his veins.
You’re still struggling to take control of your tears. Hiding them with your hands and biting back your cries. Jungkook grows more anxious with each second that wastes away. “What do you need? Anything, anything at all. How can I help?” He reaches out to remove your hands in front of your face.
A fit of coughing chokes you. Jungkook acts fast, sitting up to steady you. His hands almost hover, afraid to cause you anymore harm. But when a second round of coughing and crying starts up, he takes you in his arms. The rapid movements rouse Taehyung from his slumber. His words are slurred with sleep when he asks “Are you okay?” and “What’s happening?” Neither you nor Jungkook answer him.
Your agony is over spilt and you start coughing all over again. A silver taste mixes with your saliva. “Jungkook,” A tremor takes over your tone. “Jungkook, it hurts.”
“I know, baby. I know. But where does it hurt?” He runs his rough hands along your back. Settling the shivers that trail up your spine. He shushes your cries and tilts your head up to him. He stares into the saddest sight he’s ever seen. Red-rimmed eyes, pathetic whimpers of pain, and a bottom lip so bitten it’s bleeding. He feels an ache in his chest at your pitiful appearance. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from in between your teeth.
It’s at this time when Taehyung starts to shake off the effects of a deep sleep. He sits up and leans against your back. One arm is used to steady himself while the other wraps around your waist. His fingers are tied up with the bottom of your (his) shirt. He fidgets with the fabric, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the sounds of your sobbing. He tucks his head over your shoulder and squeezes you a little tighter.
“It’s my stomach that hurts. I think I might throw up.” At your words, Taehyung loosens up his grip. Instead, he sticks his hand under your shirt to soothe your stomach. He draws circles with his thumb and follows Jungkook’s lead.
“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Jungkook pulls you up, letting you lean on him as he prepares to take you to the bathroom. Taehyung trails behind, struggling with the sheets tied around his legs.
“Jimin,” Tae shakes the man rather roughly. “Wake up. Sweethearts not feeling well.” He doesn’t wait for his friend to wake, too restless at the thought of you injured and too far for comfort. He rushes out of the room and stumbles upon a sight he wishes he didn’t have to see.
Blood burns through your throat and the next thing you know scarlet is being spilt onto the tile. You share a shaky look with both boys, tears lining all your eyes. Red runs down your lips and stains your shirt. As you stare at Taehyung, scared out of your skin, he can’t help but think that his selfish, lovesick soul will be the cause of your demise.
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved
#bts#bts x reader#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts x you#bts fanfic#yandere bts#taehyung x reader#taehyung imagine#taehyung imagines#taehyung fanfic#yandere taehyung#taehyung#taehyung angst#jimin x reader#jimin imagine#jimin imagines#jimin fanfic#yandere jimin#jimin#jimin angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#yandere jungkook#jungkook#jungkook angst#poly bts#vminkook x reader
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min yoongi the man that you are
i think neutral pretty is my favourite… what about you guys??
(i know chaotic hot is an edit but he just looked too hot for me not to add it)
other members :
hoseok
jungkook
taehyung
namjoon
seokjin
jimin
#aesthetic#bts#bangtan#min yoongi#suga#agustd#yoongi#yoongi x reader#namjoon#seokjin#jimin#jungkook#taehyung#hoseok#j hope#x reader#imagine#fluff#angst#moodboard#kpop edits#edit#ot7#ot7 x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n
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in my head; kth
➵ pairing: fwb!taehyung x reader
➵ genre: pwp (porn with plot), angst, college au
➵ word count: 8k
➵ synopsis: taehyung’s friends love you ー adore you. they probably want to fuck you, but they’ll never admit to it. instead, they’ll push taehyung’s limits in the middle of a frat party, testing just how close they can get to you before he takes you to bed in a fit of jealousy. and maybe, just maybe, one of his friends can have a taste too (if he’s lucky).
inspired by thuy's in my head
warnings under the cut!
➵ warnings: unrequited love, commitment issues, dacryphilia, degradation (use of the word slut, whore, and pervert), fingering, oral (f receiving), spit kink, overstimulation, use of the color system, breast play, hand job, unprotected (jealous/possessive) sex, marking, impact play (slapping - face & pussy, spanking), breeding kink, choking, mirror sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, manhandling, mentions of intoxication (mc & taehyung are sober!), use of the word daddy, mentions of religion, ass play, mentions of dp, creampie
You can’t help but think that this is a terrible idea. The heavy bass and the sound of rap lyrics vibrate through the walls of the old Victorian house. Unfamiliar voices are muffled beneath the syncopated beats, and you can’t make out a single word.
You’ve managed to escape the sticky, beer-stained floors and the heat of the frat party downstairs. Instead, you’ve sought refuge in one of the bedrooms, hand-in-hand with none other than Kim Taehyung himself.
The space around you is dark, save for the dim lamp behind you. You’re propped on top of his tiny desk, careful not to knock over the expensive camera that rests beside you.
“I thought you were gonna show me your new photos.” You pull apart from Taehyung’s lips, meeting his gaze between pretty eyelashes.
Your words slur, finding it difficult to talk with his tongue in your mouth. A string of spit connects your lips together. It threatens to break loose the further you recline.
With hooded eyes, he leans forward, chasing after your kiss. “What’s the rush?”
His lips brush against the corner of your mouth as his hand wanders down to the hem of your dress, bunching it over your waist. The straps have already fallen loose from your shoulders, the top of your breasts spill out from over the fabric.
Taehyung grips your jaw, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. His nose nudges against the column of your neck. A sigh falls from his lips as he lingers over your pulse point, his breath hot against your skin, teeth grazing.
He glides a finger over the taut fabric of your panties. It’s soaked from your arousal, wet and sticky between your thighs.
“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he taunts with a crooked smile. “I’ve barely even touched you.”
Although that may be true, you’ve been kissing for what feels like over an hour.
In an effort to pull him closer, you wrap your legs around his waist. The outline of his erection leaves an imprint against the fabric of his sweats. It rests against your core, hot and heavy. You shift in your seat, desperately wanting him to pull your underwear to the side so he could stuff you full.
“Who got you this worked up, hm?” Taehyung dips his head down to kiss your shoulder.
His fingers squeeze your cheeks once again, and he angles your face to look him in the eyes, domineering. The hum of his low voice sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is dark and hazy with lust and desire.
There’s a soft glow of light that surrounds you, almost like a halo. Taehyung thinks that you look the prettiest at times like this ー when you’re pressed beneath his weight, right in the palm of his hands.
You meet his eyes before shifting focus to his swollen lips. He quirks his brow, and you melt in his touch. Perhaps you’ve been staring at him for a moment too long because you can feel your saliva pool out of your mouth, dribbling down your chin.
Taehyung’s thumb swipes across your bottom lip, collecting your drool. “What’s wrong, love?” He tsks, tapping the side of your cheek. “You always have so much to say, but now what? Don’t tell me you’ve gone this stupid for cock.”
A fervent whine escapes from your parted lips. Your eyes brim with tears as your cunt pulses with desperate need, aching to feel Taehyung inside of you, even if it’s just the tip.
Taehyung throbs at the sight of your soaked eyelashes, but he pays no mind to your pleas as he sinks down to his knees.
“Let’s try again.” He spreads your legs further apart, trailing kisses against the inside of your thigh. “Who made you this wet?” His lips hover over your panty clad cunt before mouthing against the fabric.
“Taehyung, don’t tease,” you shake your head, babbling. “You’re the only one I want, you know that.”
He pushes the cotton aside, revealing your sweet pussy to his wandering eyes.
“I’m the only one?” In a deep voice, he hums against your folds. “Are you sure it’s not Namjoon?”
You shake your head in denial. “Just you,” you say in a hushed tone.
His fingers spread your lips apart, watching you clench around nothing. Taehyung lingers above you before releasing a glob of spit onto your core. It glides between your slit, dripping down your entrance.
You spread your legs wider, making room for his broad shoulders. His gentle, teasing fingers trace across your sensitive lips before dipping them between your velvety walls.
“You seemed to be really cozy with Joonie though,” Taehyung pumps two fingers inside of you, easily gliding between your soaked cunt. “You were acting like such a needy slut downstairs, I swear that you wanted to fuck my friends.”
His jaw clenches. You can sense a hint of jealousy in his tone. You find that to be odd considering Taehyung is never jealous.
He’s not even yours.
Taehyung has always been difficult to read. More often than not, in the lonely hours of the night, you’re within an arm's reach, prepared to keep him company, dropping everything at his beck and call.
After tangling between the sheets at the end of every night, he’d comb his fingers through your freshly-washed hair, careful not to linger too long on the hickeys that scatter across your collarbone.
Meanwhile, you’d trace hearts onto his back, wondering what he thinks about when he looks at you ー whether or not your name sits inside of his head in that current moment, if ever at all.
Time and time again, he reminds you that this is just casual. The two of you are supposed to let loose and have fun.
Yet he holds your hand so gently when you cross the street, when you slow dance in the quiet of the night, and when he fucks you deeply and ardently into the mattress. After, he’d order Chinese delivery to your house, stuffing siu mai in your cheeks so that you would shut up and stop talking nonsense about paying him back.
He even kisses your forehead and calls you his good girl after leaving love bites on your neck.
It would be impossible not to fall for someone like Kim Taehyung as kind, sweet, and humble as he is.
If you ask him to be your boyfriend, would he laugh? Would he furrow his brows and wonder why? Would he utter a vague response? Something along the lines of “I don’t know.” He often deploys these words when he’s faced with questions he doesn’t want to think about.
In your mind, the worst case scenario occurs when Taehyung breaks it off right then and there, asking you to leave. Meanwhile, you linger by the door, begging him to love you just once, and maybe twice ー Through the ups, downs, and in betweens.
It never happens. You never ask. You never bring it up. You just go through the motions, settling for the warmth of Taehyung’s body, even if it’s a temporary fix.
Lost in your own thoughts, you bite back a whimper. Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. Taehyung grabs your wrist, placing it at the edge of his desk.
“You weren’t this shy when you were whispering in Jimin’s ear ー when his hand was on your thigh, and when you were acting like a huge, desperate cock tease.”
The possessive part of Taehyung’s brain takes root when he guides his hand between your legs, slapping your clit. Shuddering under his touch, you release a silent scream.
Taehyung plunges another finger inside of you, stretching you apart with a steady pace. It feels like too much, yet not enough at the same time. Your head is spinning, body sensitive from the heat of his skin against yours.
“I want to hear you cry for me.” His brows furrow. A look of faux sympathy crosses his angelic features. “Unless you don’t want my friends to hear you being such a whore.” He speaks so casually, as if he didn’t just drop another glob of spit onto your mound. “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if Namjoon was here though ー watching you.”
You shake your head, panting for air, trying to catch your breath as he curls his fingers inside of you.
“Really? Then how about Jimin?” He taunts you so cruelly.
Your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking your lips before you can bring yourself to speak. It’s too difficult to form words when your mind is numb on pleasure, nothing but a steady hum of static.
But if there’s one thing that you should know about Taehyung is that he is not a patient man (despite the fact that he’s been edging you for the better part of the last hour). It’s evident when he wraps his hand around your throat, bringing your attention back to his hazy eyes. He needs your answer, and he needs it now.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he says, demanding, squeezing the column of your neck.
He’s obsessed with the way your throat constricts beneath the pressure of his grip as you swallow your spit.
“Would you prefer if Jeongguk was here then?”
His lips curl into a smile as if he’s testing you, but you see right through his sweet facade. Kim Taehyung is nothing if not mean in bed. If you were to be honest, he would find a way to punish you despite the reassurance in his tone.
After all, Kim Taehyung has never been one to show you mercy. He will spank you, choke you, and fuck you until you’re at the edge of your limit, simply because you let him. Because you love it, and you love when you’re reduced to nothing but a slutty little mess.
“It’s just you, Tae,” you murmur weakly. “Just want you, not Guk.” Despite the affirmation in your voice, your walls clench around Taehyung’s fingers.
Guk? Since when did you ever use nicknames with Jeongguk?
“Love, we both know that’s not true,” he says, slapping your clit once again.
You curse under your breath.
“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you sob with tears streaming down your face, but you adore every second of it. Taehyung takes a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes before pressing a tender kiss to the apples of your cheeks.
“I saw the two of you at the door earlier,” Taehyung begins, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, biting the flesh between his teeth.
It’s true that Jeongguk invited you to the party. Actually, he asked you long before Taehyung had even brought it up. But no, Jeongguk is not your date and neither is Taehyung.
At the very least, Jeongguk had the decency to acknowledge you and give you an ounce of attention (Taehyung would argue that Jeongguk looks at you like he’s in love with you, yet you remain oblivious, chalking it down to being friends).
The entire evening, you talked his ear off about your neuroscience research ー the idea of emotional numbness being a symptom of certain psychological disorders. It sounds depressing, but when you manage to break it down, comparing it to Widowmaker’s genetically modified brain chemistry, Jeongguk clung onto your every word.
Not only are you so adorable, but so fucking brilliant. On top of that… you can unpack the lore of his favorite Overwatch hero for hours on end? You might just be the girl he’s been searching for in all of his dreams. It’s no wonder he looks at you with so much love in his eyes.
Meanwhile, throughout the whole night, Taehyung was too “busy” to approach you ー only watched from afar. He can’t risk the thought of people finding out about your relationship. Rather, he was swarmed with girls hanging off of his arm, vying for his attention. Yet the only thing he saw was you.
You finally had a moment alone when he brushed against your arm, asking you to trail him upstairs to “show” you the photos he took on his new camera.
And that is exactly how you found yourself in this predicament.
“Jeongguk was so sweet to take off your jacket and offer you a drink.” Taehyung circles your clit with calloused fingers as if he has all the time in the world.
These soft, gentle touches only mark the beginning of your punishment, and you’d be lucky if you could crawl out of bed tomorrow morning. You close your eyes, praying to a higher power that you’ll make it out of here in one piece.
“Have you seen the way he looks at you?” He murmurs against your jaw, pressing a kiss to your chin, barely missing the soft curve of your lips. “I’m pretty sure he thinks about you when he touches himself.”
To emphasize his point, Taehyung glides his hand down the inner part of your thigh. Goosebumps ripple across your skin as you shiver in his hold.
“What if Jeongguk was here, watching you beg for my cock, hm?” Taehyung hums. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You whine desperately, saying anything that would please Taehyung despite how easily your body betrays you ー pussy pulsing with need, carnal and insatiable.
Anyone could tell that Jeongguk has a huge crush on you. It’s in the way that he looks at you with wide, lovestruck eyes. He holds onto every single one of his words as if you’re rewriting the stars. Whenever you share a lame joke that flies over everyone’s head, he’s giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
Truthfully? Nothing pisses Taehyung off more than that.
Somehow, even the sound of Jeongguk’s name makes you clench around Taehyung’s fingers.
“Do you want him to fuck you?”
The image of Jeongguk making room for himself in your cunt makes you break into tears, sobbing. Or perhaps Jeongguk would be the type to take it slow, you can never be so sure. His pretty face is so deceptive. Maybe he would memorize every inch of your skin and make love in a way you’ve never quite understood.
“Because I know that Guk wants to.” Taehyung says it as a matter of fact. As if he knows something that you don’t. There’s malice in his tone when he utters the nickname you’ve defaulted to.
“Would you let the boys watch? Namjoon? Jimin? You know they’re quite fond of you, right? You might give them the impression that they have a chance with you because you’re such an easy slut.” Taehyung spins a dirty fantasy inside of your head while he rubs deft circles onto your clit. Your slick arousal seeps out of your pulsing cunt, soaking his fingers.
“I bet you’d let Jeongguk fuck you raw too.”
The innermost part of you thinks about Jeongguk losing his innocent image so that he could stretch you open and flood you with his cum, round after round. How he would plug your needy cunt with his length, forcing you to cockwarm him, locking his cum inside of you until he’s ready to ruin you all over again.
How would Taehyung feel if he were to watch? You can’t decide if he would love it or hate it, and neither can you.
Jeon Jeongguk is nothing if not kind, so surely, he could do you one favor, right?
With the thought of Jeongguk stretching you open, your orgasm washes over you, and you tremble in Taehyung’s arms, consumed by your climax. You cry out, muttering apologies over and over again. Tears cascade down your cheeks, unable to control yourself.
But perhaps you’re not sorry at all.
That’s all it takes for Taehyung to latch his mouth onto your clit, sucking harshly on the small bundle of nerves. You buck your hips, wanting him impossibly closer, but his hands squeeze around your waist, pinning you to the table.
His tongue delves between your entrance, lapping the arousal that drips out of you. The taste of your cum is such a sweet reward, but it’s almost offensive how you could come to the thought of fucking another man, a man who is not him, but one of his friends and fraternity brothers. Even if Taehyung was the one to flood your head with thoughts of Jeongguk, he can’t seem to handle the truth.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s because you could slip through his fingers and leave him at any point in time. How much longer can you deal with this lack of commitment ー no strings attached situationship?
The gossip among your friends isn’t lost on him. He knows that they don’t like him, always urging you to step away. An ember ignites inside of his chest when he recounts a conversation he once overheard: ‘Jeongguk’s been asking about you. You should give him a chance, don’t you think? What if he’s the one?’
As if Taehyung has something to prove, he works you into overdrive, sucking your clit into his mouth as he rolls the small bundle of nerves with his tongue.
You reach down, gripping his hair between your fingers, feeling much too overstimulated after your first orgasm. Taehyung digs his face deeper into your pussy in hopes that he can elicit the sweet whimpers that make his cock leak with beads of precum.
From beneath his desk, he drags down the band of his sweats, just low enough for him to pull out his dick. His hand wraps around his length, jerking off to the sound of your moans and the way that your pussy weeps for him, squelching into the quiet of the night.
Taehyung eats you out like he’s starving ー messy and depraved. You’re dripping in arousal, completely soaking his chin with your essence.
Your legs quiver, closing around Taehyung’s head as you approach your high once again. He circles his arms around your thighs, spreading them wide apart. You’re rendered immobile, forced to take him like the good girl he knows you are.
He picks up the pace, forcing his tongue deep between your walls.
Trembling in his hold, you tip over the edge with a sob that rips through your throat. Your cunt pulses as he laps up the cum dripping from your core.
Your fingernails dig into his scalp, yet Taehyung has no intention of stopping. In fact, the pain drives him to work even faster. He swipes his tongue against your clit, sucking on the bud and working you into overstimulation. He needs to make sure that you don’t ever think about touching another man but him.
He may not be yours, but you are his without a single doubt.
Taehyung plunges his fingers back inside of you, massaging the inside of your cunt with delicious friction. It’s on the border of pleasure and pain, yet you welcome it as you ride out your high.
“Taehyung…” You whimper in a weak voice, “It’s too much…” Once more, you tug on his hair, pulling him apart from your cunt, even as it pulses in his wake.
But Taehyung can’t help himself, lurching forward, he wedges himself between your thighs. He needs to taste you, just a little more as if this is the last time he’ll ever have you. He kisses your clit, repeatedly, one smooch after another ー completely pussy drunk. He knows that you can take it.
You slump against his desk, legs weak. But there’s nothing you can do. What Taehyung wants, Taehyung gets. And all he wants is to mark you, claim you, and breed you until you’re filled with his cum for days on end.
Taehyung wipes his chin with the back of his hand, and it just might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He picks you up from beneath your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck.
You’re no stranger to the bounce of his bed as he lays you on top of his covers. You’ve been there a dozen times before, having memorized the feeling of the cool, linen fabric against your exposed skin.
Taehyung tugs on the neckline of your dress, revealing your breasts to his hungry eyes. He suckles on one of your pert nipples while twisting the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Meanwhile, you reach forward, palming his erection through his sweatpants. He grinds against your hand as he hums into your chest. Murmurs of “mine, mine, mine.”
His hand reaches down to circle your wrist before shoving them down his pants. He dips your hand beneath the fabric, guiding your hand to fist his cock, pumping his length without the burden of cotton in between.
It’s heavy in your hands, long and thick. You can barely wrap your fingers around the circumference of it all.
Taehyung shifts focus onto your neck, sucking love bites into your delicate skin. To fuel his ego, he needs the rest of the world to know that you belong to him. That nobody can fuck you better than him. Not Namjoon, not Jimin, and definitely not Jeongguk.
“Tae, I need you.” The words are slurred coming out of your mouth. You’re delirious, yet you haven’t even had a taste of him.
“You think you deserve my cock?” He tilts his head to the side, arching his brow. His question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but nod with desperation.
It’s condescending and downright degrading, but you grow wetter upon tasting his arrogance. You should feel pathetic for wanting his warmth and his comfort, yet in this very moment, he is the only thing that you crave.
Taehyung tugs his shirt over his head and drags his sweatpants down to his thighs. He slides his bare cock between your folds. It’s puffy and much too sensitive, but you love the feeling of his weight on you.
He taps your clit with the head of his cock once, twice, three-four times.
“Who does this pretty cunt belong to?” He doesn’t shift his gaze, even when your eyes roll back, consumed with blinding pleasure.
“It’s yours, Taehyung,” you whimper, melting into the sheets. “I’m all yours.”
“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear,” he says before tapping your bottom lip.
Instinctually, you open your mouth, and he drops a glob of spit straight down your throat.
Before you can even swallow, Taehyung is lining up his cock with your entrance until he bottoms out, leaving you with little to no time to adjust to his girth.
“My pussy’s all yours.” You manage to mutter a string of words, breathless, half coherent as he stretches you wide open.
“Mine?” Taehyung quirks his brow. His jaw clenches. “Then how about I fuck a baby inside of you, huh?”
If you had any semblance of sanity, your rationality would have spoken against it. But when Taehyung looks at you with such desperate eyes, almost animalistic, you can’t help but to wrap your legs around his waist, forcing his cock deeper into your fertile cunt, begging him to breed you.
The squelch of your heat fills the otherwise quiet room. It’s verging on pornographic ー the sound of skin slapping on skin. When he nestles his hips against yours like two pieces of a puzzle, he groans against your collarbone, resuming his mission to claim you and make you his, ravishing your skin until a deep bruise forms in its place.
He glides into you so effortlessly, his pace punishing. The slick of your arousal allows him to rut into you like you were made for him. By now, you’re certain that he’s fucked your pussy into the shape of his cock. It’s reserved for Taehyung so long as he’ll have you.
He grabs the back of your thighs, folding you in half, right into a press, perfect for breeding. But not before roughly delivering a spank to the curve of your ass. The impact leaves a temporary mark, and you thrive off of the attention that he gives you.
You’re so fucked out, you can’t think of anything other than coming with Taehyung’s name on your tongue.
He pounds into you with a force that causes your body to inch up the mattress. The bed frame rocks against the wall, but neither of you care about the repercussions. Nobody could possibly hear you whoring yourself out when the boom of the bass is so loud downstairs.
Would it really be such a bad thing if someone were to catch you?
It should be humiliating how wet you are, soaking his cock like a bitch in heat. But in fact, you’re in love with the way he prods your cervix as he finds his home nestled inside of you.
Taehyung grips the underside of your jaw, turning your head so that you can face the floor length mirror on the other side of the bed.
His lips press against the shell of your ear as he whispers sweet nothings against your blazing hot skin. “You’re such a good girl. Look at how well you take me,” he coos.
You stare into your reflection, eyes meeting your own in the mirror. Your makeup is a complete and utter mess. Your mascara runs down your cheeks from the tears in your eyes, your lipgloss stained from all the kisses you’ve shared.
Taehyung’s hips roll against yours, and your gaze shifts to the strain of his muscles. His back is so broad and so strong. His biceps flex from holding himself above your body.
From this angle, you can see the way he drives into you. Your pussy can’t help but swallow him deeper and deeper, accommodating his length as it drags against your walls with a delicious, slow burn. He fucks you so ardently, he can barely pull away for long before burrowing right back into your core, settling into the deepest parts of you.
With your eyes trained on the mirror, you can spot the faint love bite that blooms beneath his ear. Perhaps there is a small part of Kim Taehyung that does belong to you. Or maybe your mind is playing tricks on your heart once again.
Taehyung props himself up on his knees for more leverage. But before he can situate himself, he notices the small crack in the doorway, slightly ajar. Through the gap, he can see the wandering eyes of his fellow fraternity brother, none other than Park Jimin. He genuinely has no idea how long he’s been standing there.
Feeling high on some power trip, Taehyung flashes an amused smirk at the man on the other side of the door, shooting him a wink as he plows his hips against yours.
There’s a small part of Jimin’s subconscious that makes him believe he should walk away and pretend that this never happened. It feels wrong to spy on his best friend splitting your sweet cunt in half, but he can’t seem to look away. The longer he stares, the harder he gets.
Maybe it’s the boost of serotonin that Jimin gets from the sight of your tits. They’re bouncing from the force of Taehyung’s thrusts, and he can only imagine how they would feel beneath his palms. Perhaps it’s the sound of your dulcet voice, begging Taehyung to fuck you deeper, spank you harder, and love you louder.
Jimin has only ever dreamt about the sound of your moans, but now, he can hear them loud and clear from the other side of the door.
He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Perhaps this is a dream. Or maybe he’s a little too drunk at this point of the night.
But when he looks up again, he’s met with Taehyung’s darkened eyes. Jimin’s mouth goes dry, wishing that he could be there in place of his dear friend.
In all of his dreams, Jimin has never pictured you to like it so rough. You’ve always been so kind and so sweet, offering to clean the dishes among his dirty fraternity brothers. You’re so considerate to keep him company while he builds his Lego sets late into the evening.
You’re practically the face of innocence.
Now with this knowledge of you being a dirty, little whore, he can stow it away into the back of his mind, saving it for the dark and restless nights.
When Taehyung’s thumb meets your clit, you whimper his name. It’s raw, almost painful, coming from your scratchy throat.
“Say it again,” Taehyung demands, tapping the side of your face with his free hand before gliding it down to your neck. “Say my name again. If you want me to cum inside of you, beg.”
You cry out his name as your eyes roll back, his length prodding against your cervix, bruising the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Unintelligible murmurs spill from your lips. “I’ll do whatever you want. I just want your cum, I need it, please, please, please. Need you to fuck me full. I want your babies, daddy. You promised, remember?”
Something inside of Taehyung ignites whenever you call him daddy. “You need it? Need my cum? My babies?”
Taehyung picks up the pace, burying himself deep inside of you. His tone is mocking, and you fall apart to the sound of his voice. “What a needy fucking plaything.”
He pays no mind to the way you shudder beneath him, tears falling down your face. He continues to maneuver you into a different position, manhandling your body in a way that has you clenching around him even tighter, sheathing his cock deeper between your walls. He hooks his arm beneath the bend of your knees, lifting your legs over his shoulders until you curl beneath him.
You’re addicted to the way he fills you to the brim, splitting you in half. A ring of milky cream coats the base of his cock, revealing itself whenever he pulls out the slightest bit. It’s mixed with the saliva that he drops onto your mound, making the glide so effortless.
Had this been any other night, Taehyung would not let you off the hook this easily. Instead, he would humiliate you into begging. Your face would be pushed into the mattress while he makes a mess of your pussy. He would spill his load inside of you while prolonging your orgasm, only allowing you to come if you beg for it. But tonight, he’s being much too kind in the presence of his guest.
Taehyung brings his hand down, spanking the curve of your ass. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” He groans against your lips.
You shudder once again when he strikes your clit ー “This pussy is mine.” At this point, you would have thought you’d be used to it by now, but the impact continues to surprise you every time.
He gives a harsh thrust into your cunt, deep and rough. Rushed murmurs of “mine, mine, mine.” For good measure, he spits on your face and slaps your cheek. Kim Taehyung fully knows that you do belong to him, and he needs Jimin to know that.
Taehyung grabs your waist and flips you over so that you straddle his hips. He grips your jaw with a firm grasp, forcing your head toward the direction of the door. He doesn’t seem to forget about his dear friend. Because apparently, Park Jimin is as much of a pervert as you are.
When you lock eyes with Jimin on the other side, you clamp around Taehyung’s length.
He just knows that you love the attention.
Your legs tremble on either side of his waist, and you want to collapse into his chest to hide in embarrassment. Humiliation prickles your cheeks, but you know there’s nowhere to run.
As a reminder of his presence, Taehyung grips your waist. “Color?” All you have to do is say the word, and he’ll stop.
You’ve expressed your interest in exhibitionism before, yet Taehyung has always been the one to keep your relationship a dirty little secret. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you nod your head in confirmation, cursing out the words, breathless. “Green.”
“‘Atta girl,” Taehyung groans, squeezing your hips. “Why don’t you show Jimin how you ride?” He suggests, clenching his jaw.
There’s an innate need to show Jimin what a pretty, desperate little toy that you are. So you bounce on your knees, fucking yourself onto Taehyung’s cock.
Jimin can’t keep his eyes off of you as your tits bounce on full display. His eyes scan your body up and down, taking note of the dress that bunches around your waist. It’s the same strawberry pattern that you wore to Sunday service the week prior.
He remembers how pretty you looked as you sat cross legged on the other side of the pew 一 when you had volunteered to pass around plates of food for the elders at the luncheon and when you had flashed him a gummy smile after pouring you a glass of orange juice. But now, the image of you in that same exact dress has tainted his memory.
Your hands rest on Taehyung’s chest as you grind your hips onto his. With each brush against your clit, you shudder, slowly losing your senses from the mind numbing pleasure.
Soon enough, you lose your rhythm, jagged and off-tempo. Your thrusts are much too shallow for Taehyung’s liking, your thighs burning. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. But you can’t help it when you’re a little too distracted by Jimin’s eyes boring into yours.
“You can do better than that,” Taehyung growls, landing a sharp slap against your ass. His fingers dig into your waist. Your flesh gives way to his grip, dimpling beneath the pressure.
“Tell Jimin how much you love being fucked like a whore.” Taehyung says, punctuating each syllable with a sharp thrust.
Because you are constantly under Taehyung’s spell, you do as you’re told, whining out Jimin’s name with tears in your eyes. “Minnie…” Taehyung grits his teeth, hating how close you are to all of his friends. At the end of the day, you’re his.
There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Love it so much 一 Love being Taehyung's slut. He fucks me so well, he’s ruined me for anyone else. I can’t- I can’t-” The sobs wrack through your body as the dirty words pool out of your mouth. “Please, Tae, I want to come so bad. I’ve been a good girl, please, please please- I promise I won’t act up anymore, I only want you.”
Taehyung has trouble believing your lies. You’ve been anything but a good girl all night. The images flash before his eyes 一 you drinking with Namjoon, leaning into Jimin’s touch, giggling with Jeongguk. Fuck, the way you came around his fingers when he flooded your pretty little head with thoughts of his friend claiming you in front of everyone like a needy whore 一 it sets a fire ablaze inside of him.
The only thing you’ve done that’s worthy of praise is making room for Taehyung’s fat cock inside of your slutty cunt.
Taehyung forces two fingers into your mouth, demanding you to suck. You swirl your tongue around his digits, making them nice and wet before he traces them down your spine. He circles the puckered rim of your ass before dipping right into your tight hole.
“Would you let Jimin fuck you here?” Taehyung asks, searching for the answer in your eyes. “You could probably come with him in your ass, no?”
Tears stream down your cheeks as you shake your head no.
“Don’t pretend like you haven’t done it before, love. I know you can come as long as your holes are filled,” he coos. “Wouldn’t it feel so much better if you had two dicks inside of you? Sweet girl, I know you can take it.”
You clench at the sound of his filthy words. Taehyung has never proposed a threesome before. He hardly talks to his fraternity brothers about you, whether it is out of privacy, jealousy, or embarrassment, you can never be sure.
Drool starts to drip out of your mouth and pride swells up inside of Taehyung’s heart.
He circles his arms around your waist, bringing you down to his chest. Digging his heels into the mattress, he bends his knees to thrust into you at a merciless pace. His perfect tempo hits your soft, spongy center with such precision. The head of his cock grazes against your g spot with every stroke, and you whine into his neck.
Your eyes are threatening to close, and you find it difficult to catch your breath.
Taehyung murmurs against your skin, reminding you to breathe. Upon hearing his calm voice, your chest heaves against his.
“Come with me, come with me,” he demands, his voice breathy. “Show him that you’re mine.”
With a few deep thrusts, you come on Taehyung’s cock, pulsing around his length. You clench around him so tight as though you never want him to leave. The sound of Taehyung’s moans are muffled by the blood rushing to your head. All you can hear is the thrum of your pulse, pounding against your ear drums.
Taehyung’s hips still against yours as he grabs your waist, trying to find a semblance of self-control. He spills into your cunt with thick spurts of white, hot cum, filling you to the brim. It pours out from between your walls, coating the side of his length.
Your breath is labored as you collapse into his chest, much too weak to hold yourself up any longer.
When you look over at Jimin, there’s a dark, wet spot over the crotch of his pants. A small whimper escapes from his parted lips, his eyes screwed shut.
If you did not have a modicum of rationality in your post orgasmic haze, you would think that Taehyung would offer to invite him inside. But as you’ve come to learn, Taehyung is not a fan of sharing what’s his.
So when the show is over, Jimin is quick to step into the bathroom where he can touch himself to the fresh visual of you in your strawberry print dress. Perhaps he can conjure up the image of you on your knees, wrapping your pretty lips around his throbbing cock. He would die a happy man if he could paint your perfect tits with his cum. But for now, he’ll have to settle with the glide of his hand, imagining that it’s your tight walls sucking him into the warmth of your cunt.
And once Jimin cleans himself up, he’ll be on his merry way to tell his dear friends about the best thing he has ever witnessed in his entire life. He’d be $20 richer after Seokjin coughs up the money he bet on your relationship. And maybe Jeongguk will finally come to terms with his feelings before he loses you completely.
Surely, when all is said and done, Taehyung has cleaned up the mess that he’s made, making sure that you’re happy and well taken care of. He kisses your lips and rubs your back, taking his time to clean you up.
He’s extra gentle when he wipes a wet cloth against your swollen pussy. It’s far too sore after the rough pounding that he had put you through. Possibly bruised and broken, at least that’s how your body feels, yet you wouldn’t be opposed if he suggested another round after you’ve recuperated because you’re simply insatiable.
Yet that moment never comes because the two of you tuck yourselves beneath the covers, making small talk until the morning rises.
You never mention Namjoon nor Jimin. And you definitely wouldn’t dare to utter Jeongguk’s name. With sleepy thoughts and heavy eyelids, you simply let the night cut into the day.
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a beam across the thin film of your eyes. You’ve been awake for the last hour, keeping yourself occupied by counting the beauty marks that scatter across Taehyung’s face. You’ve done it a million times before. You could probably point them out in the dark, completely blind.
“Creep,” he mutters under his breath when he catches you staring.
A chuckle vibrates through your chest as you playfully push his shoulders. He rolls onto his side, facing the wall, but you cage him in your arms, wrapping them around his waist, molding your body to his. Your laugh tickles the nape of his neck.
Taehyung tries his best to ignore the lingering scent of your perfume on his bed sheets. He doesn’t want to acknowledge the right side of his bed where there’s a dip in the mattress ー the same shape as you.
He won’t even bring up your awful bedhead because he thinks it’s funny. He likes how he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. You’re at your prettiest when you’re beneath him, but also beside him.
Yet if he were to speak of this out loud, it would mean that all of this is his ー that he has something worth losing.
“How about I make some pancakes?” You offer, wiping the exhaustion from your eyes with the back of your hand.
Taehyung shifts in your embrace. He strains his neck to gauge your expression. “Pancakes?”
“Yeah, you got any strawberries?” They’re his favorite. He may have mentioned it once or twice in passing between soft kisses and sleepy yawns. Something about it being a reminder of his grandfather’s farm in Daegu. “Thought I saw some in the fridge the other day.”
“Don’t you have class soon?” Taehyung wonders out loud. He already knows the answer. He has your schedule memorized. How could he not?
“I could be late,” you shrug. “Remember what I told you about Professor Lee? He’s boring anyways.”
On any other day, Taehyung would have said yes without a second thought. But the fact that you’re willing to skip class doesn’t sit right with him. Suffering through medical philosophy 301 might not be that important to you, but… would you honestly prefer to spend your time making strawberry pancakes?
Taehyung clears his throat. “Before I say yes, can I ask you something?”
The air is thick.
There’s hesitation in your response, but you nod nevertheless. “What is it?”
“Are these just pancakes, or… is it something else?”
You part your lips, ready to respond, but the words are stuck in your throat. The answer should have been “just pancakes,” yet you’re certain that it’s more than that.
Perhaps it’s the casual intimacy or the domesticity. Maybe it’s an extra 30 minutes spent with the guy you’re half in love with. Is that too much? Are you too much?
“It’s whatever you want it to be.” You decide to play it safe as if you don’t want to die on the inside. As if his answer won’t have your organs collapsing on itself.
How the hell is Taehyung supposed to tell you that he wants more than just breakfast and half an hour of your time. He wants all of it and more, but it’s selfish to ask for that. You deserve the world, but he can’t give you what you need.
Time and time again, Taehyung has said that this is just casual. No strings attached. But how could he let it get this far?
There’s an adoring look in your eye that triggers his fight or flight response. He’s scared.
“I think… I just want pancakes.” There’s a dull ache in his heart and a voice that’s screaming in the back of his head. “But maybe next time. You should go to class.”
Little do you know, it took a hell of a lot of courage to say anything but “Please have me. Please hold me. I’m sorry.”
You try to push down the sting of his rejection as if it isn’t a reflection of the love that you deserve. “Okay, so I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Taehyung curls onto his side of the bed, retreating into himself. The heat of his body escapes yours. His responses shrink, reduced to nothing but an “I don’t know.”
You contemplate his cold tone and decide not to push any further. Yet you’re certain that you’ll keep yourself awake in the dead of the night by finding meaning in his silence.
For Taehyung, it hurts knowing that he can’t be the man for you. When his efforts fall short of what you deserve, he has a feeling that you’ll slip through his fingers once again. Would that hurt more than pushing you away?
When Taehyung asks you if you need a ride back to your place, a vile feeling bubbles up in the pit of your stomach. You can’t quite explain what it is. Anger? Hatred? Animosity? The truth is, you could never hate Kim Taehyung. Not for all the dreams you’ve shared. Not for all the wasted time. Not for the things he never said.
Taehyung thinks a ride is the best he could do if he can’t offer himself to you. If he can’t be your boyfriend.
You simply decline. “I think I wanna walk,” you mutter. Perhaps a little bit of fresh air is exactly what you need. Some time and space to clear your head and just think.
You hum, flashing him a smile that isn’t much of a smile at all. It doesn’t sit right on your face, Taehyung thinks. It doesn’t reach your eyes the way he’s accustomed to ー like when you ace your physiology exam, when two bags of chips fall out of the vending machine, or when you wave hello to a stray cat from across the street. Even if Taehyung notices the ill-fitting smile on your face, he doesn’t seem to mention it.
So you slip out the door without another word, falling apart in the usual way.
It’s chilly in the hallway outside of Taehyung’s room. You shiver at the feeling.
From the back of your pocket, you pull out your phone, drafting a text to Taehyung: “It’s cold out. You should wear a jacket.”
You contemplate hitting send, but before you can decide against it, a familiar voice brings you to a halt.
“Hey, Y/N, morning!” The sweet lull of Jeongguk’s voice resonates through your eardrums. He’s always awake early in the morning, but perhaps he never went to bed to begin with.
His hair is messy. Disheveled. He has a crumb of toast that sits pretty on the corner of his lips, and you don’t hesitate to dust it off. He flashes a warm smile at you, thankful for the action.
As he often does, you think that he might offer a ride to prevent the walk of shame. If you ever decline, he’ll just nod his head, shrug on a jacket, and walk by your side to the foot of your apartment building. In spite of Jeongguk’s frat boy status, he may be the only decent member of the fraternity.
But this time, you don’t decline. You tuck your head between your shoulders as you shrug. An “okay” slips from your lips, followed by a “thank you.”
Maybe you could use a friend. Maybe you could have more than that.
There’s a set of keys in one of Jeongguk’s hands and a knit scarf in the other. He wraps it around your neck so that you can brave the cold, fifteen steps to his car at the end of the driveway.
But as he fixes your bedhead, pulling your hair to the side, careful to not get it caught beneath the fabric of his scarf, he chimes with yet another question.
“Are you and Taehyung serious by the way?”
You shake your head no. “No, not at all,” you murmur, sullen.
There’s a hopeful smile that affixes itself onto his lips. “What would you say if I asked you out on a date?”
#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#bts smut#bts angst#taehyung x reader#taehyung imagine#taehyung scenario#bts scenario#bts imagine#taehyung#kim taehyung#bts fan fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fan fiction
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bts fanfics i personally think shakespeare would lose his job over in the 1500’s.
chapter i. ✷ chapter ii.
KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:
( ✮ ) — poor sod is on the floor. perhaps it’s shock?
( ♬ ) — he’s jealous he didn’t write this himself. well, it sucks to suck, mate.
( ✎ ) — currently handing him a tissue. give him a second.
( ♛ ) — both him and i lost our jobs. her majesty is ruthless.
THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.
WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.
NOTE: without further ado, this are the fanfics that i think would cause shakespeare to lose his job: the first of many essays. let’s bring the guy to his knees. metaphorically.
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( ♛ ) THE BODYGUARD — by @rmnamjoons
!! bodyguard!namjoon x reader | 62.9k !!
bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating, slight angst if you squint, lil bit of violence.
firstly, we’re starting off strong. i present to you, the mother of all namjoon fanfics. and she’s a bad bitch. tbh, i feel like this fic needs a moment of silence just to relish in her glory. soak it all up. it’s essential.
this fic genuinely had me gobsmacked at how incredibly written it is. it delves into every detail and no aspect of the story is left dry. you can tell the author put their everything into creating this world you just submerge into. and it shows.
the world building is amazing, the characters are so thought out, and it feels like you’re just on this adventure with them and discovering their story as it plots out.
also, the build up to the smut? out of this world. that’s one thing i love about this fic: it doesn’t feel rushed. everything is very spaced out and takes it’s sweet time, so when you get to the chocolately nut of the ferrero rocher, it’s like gold and well earned. and you can enjoy it.
honestly, it’s been months since i read this and i think about it every day. i did do some research (for my own peace of mind) and this fic is longer than the perks of being a wallflower. and is it better? yes. sorry not sorry.
this work of art deserves to be read and loved. and i rest my case, your honour.
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( ✎ ) UNTIL THE LAST STAR FALLS — by @minniepetals
!! underworld lords!bts x shield!reader | 44.4k !!
reincarnation!au, poly!au, gods!au, unrequited love, minor character death, car accidents.
quick question — for science — how does one happen to lose all their memories without any sustaining any internal or external injuries? because the things i would do to read this again for the first time. and i do not use those words lightly.
this was my first ever ‘longer’ written fic. and if i’m being honest, i never really liked to read them because i have the attention span of a goat. but this fic lures you in from the very start and time slips away like smoke. to say, it definitely left its mark on me.
it’s so brilliantly written and you feel connected to the characters both mind and soul. you want the best for them, you want to save them, you actually want to crawl into the pages (or screen) and fucking help them out. and that sold it to me, i think. just the sheer love for these characters.
i balled when i read the last few sentences. i didn’t want it to end. i think i finished it at three in the morning and sent a voice note of me crying to my friend. tmi? well, now on my christmas list is 7 hot boys in the underworld who would risk their everything for me. and i, them.
worth every single second. trust.
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( ♬ ) WARM THIS WINTER — by @jamaisjoons
!! seokjin x reader ft. ex-boyfriend jungkook | 51.6k !!
christmas!au, vacation!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+).
one thing about solaris, is she never misses. if i could, i think i’d recommend every fanfic she ever put out, but that’s too much effort for me when you could simply click her masterlist. so, i’ll wait here for you to do that. make sure you come back though.
love. sure, there are hundreds- perhaps, thousands of fics on this app about it. so what makes this one different? well, that’s just it. the sorrowful honesty of love. knowing when it’s over, and when it’s blooming in the midst.
i’ve never been in love, but frankly, this fic really spelt it out for me. the pain, the joy, the lingering memories after everything is said and done. it’s all there. and it really settles in your heart as you near the end.
this work pulled on every single heartstring of mine, stamped on them, and then proceeded to sew anew for the future to bring its own miseries. and i enjoyed it more than i can say (or type).
give this a read if you need just that bit of spark in your life. and that bit of sadness, too.
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( ✮ ) STRIKE A CHORD — by @snackhobi
!! yoongi x reader | 15.8k !!
smut (18+), pianist!yoongi.
i don’t know what it is about this fic, but i come back to it whenever it pops up in my mind during my day. i’ll immediately unlock my phone and open this app, knowing i’ll feel better when the last word is read. and i feel content.
the atmosphere in this fic, if i may, feels as though you’re trapped in a warm, safe bubble with hazed music in the distance and soft light spilling through the thin layer of the bubble— not too dark, but enough to make you feel drowsy and peaceful. perhaps that’s why i return to it so often. i like how it makes me feel.
yoongi as an artist is already enough to make a person swoon, but as a pianist? i need a lie down. a cold towel to the head. just the whole characterisation of him in this fic needs a whole separate essay in itself, but you’ll understand my point when you read it.
forever a comfort fic, i think. and forever a comfort person. double whammy. case closed.
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( ✎ ) THE END — by @jimlingss
!! seokjin x reader | 31k !!
fifty percent fluff, fifty percent angst, loosely inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before.
i say this with my whole chest: i have never underestimated the amount of emotions you can experience during a fanfic, until i read the end— both literally and metaphorically. shock horror.
this fanfic takes you through the adventure of the reader learning of what her future would commence if she were to marry either one of the six members. best part? she’s led through this rollercoaster journey by the ghost of kim seokjin.
first impression to such an offer? sign me the fuck up. i mean, what more could you ask for? however my final impression went a bit more on the lines of what the fuck just happened. very different ends of the spectrum, if you ask me.
i decided to hand both shakespeare and i a tissue after this great piece of art was finished because not only was i sobbing, he was on the floor knowing his romance play of pericles could never live up to such an incredible story.
this fic was a rollercoaster i would be delighted to get onto for another ride.
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( ✎ ) A UNIVERSE TO YOU — by @readyplayerhobi
!! soulmate!hoseok x reader | 41k !!
fluff, angst, smut (18+), soulmates!au.
shakespeare once said (according to google), “it is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves,” and if this fic wasn’t a soulmate!au, i think i would’ve agreed in some sorts. but as it is, in fact, a soulmate!au, i’m obliged to disagree. it was destiny i read this fic, hand on heart.
i was not expecting this fic to hit me in the feels as hard as it did. as you can tell by the other works listed in this essay of recommendations, soulmate!au’s come up a lot. and with a lot of the same plots flying around on this app, it’s hard to make one stand out. but this author definitely has a gift.
everything was so richly created it made you feel full. of wonder, of love, and of want. it made you crave it for yourself. and that’s what i love about this fic. it just makes you feel… good. and with the unfortunates of life currently, it’s one to get your head stuck in for some temporary relief.
dream soulmate? he’s right here, people. just enjoy the story and all the feels that float around your body. go on.
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( ✮ ) BUNNY — by @btssmutgalore
!! jungkook x fem!reader | 46.5k !!
non-idol!au, camboy!jk, friends to lovers, smut, angst.
let’s start here: never judge a book by its cover. a quote by george eliot going all the way back to the 19th century, and one i would use to describe this series as a whole, and my first impressions towards it.
this series, although unfinished (i think), has exceeded my expectations of a good smut outlined by a good plot. the best of both worlds, if you might. i came out of this series deeply in awe of the writing and the clear imagery the author manages to create within your own mind.
additionally, bunny was the beginning for me in learning about the world of camboys and camgirls(?), but i was greatly surprised. often, people are unkind to the new and stick to what they’re accustomed to, afraid of what the unknown might bring — me, included.
but, i’m glad i took the risk because i received three great things in return: a beautiful fanfic, knowledge of something that was foreign to me, and an author whose work i admire and shall be returning to in the future.
perhaps what i’m getting at is this could be a lesson to all. take a risk of something unknown because who knows? maybe something great will come out of it, and you’ll learn something. i did.
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( ♬ ) SEOUL UNDERGROUND — by @hunniejimins (ao3)
!! namjoon x jungkook x f!reader | 300k !!
mafia!au, enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn, love triangles, mob boss!namjoon, smut, heavy angst.
it’s ironic really. i found this work by someone else’s recommendation, and now i’m passing on the favour and recommending it to you, dear reader. it’s funny how the world works.
this work is the perfect balance of fantasy and reality and i love it. you’re hit with the beauty and clouded haze of love before being smacked back into the world at the realisation the very person you’re in love with, is a mafia mob boss and his killer mate. a real fun-sponge, i tell ‘ya.
nevertheless, this book kept me up early morning and late evening reading. it keeps you hooked, wanting, and hungry for more.
it’s nothing less of a masterpiece.
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( ✎ ) CREAM AND SUGA — by @snackhobi
!! yoongi x barista f!reader | 14.8k !!
coffee shop!au, barista!au, fluff, nfsw (18+).
@snackhobi is mentioned twice on this list. though, can you blame me? it’s just a good thing shakespeare and this author don’t exist in the same century. it would be absolute carnage but nobody is ready for that conversation.
this author has a talent of portraying yoongi in the most irresistible way possible. i swear, i fall in love with him all over again reading. i wish you understood.
the whole misunderstanding section made me laugh because haven’t we all been there? the crushing pain and overwhelming guilt of having a crush on someone you can’t have. it’s all too real, seriously. been there, done that (unfortunately).
especially having the holidays just past, this is a perfect fic for a warm evening in, while the coldness of winter storms past outside. such a cute fic. love, love, love!
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( ♛ ) LOST AND FOUND — by @taleasnewastime
!! seokjin x reader | 21.2k !!
strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, sfw.
everyone says they have a fanfic that changed them, whether they’re being hyperbolic or brutally honest. and in my case, it’s a matter of both latter and former.
a couple months ago, i reached what i thought was rock bottom regarding my mental state and i took to my imagination to save me from the daily hell of my own mind. and this book was one i never really forgot about.
everything this author wrote within this fic was honest, heartfelt and very, very real. from the way you don’t just go up after going through something, but fall occasionally and sometimes feel as though you’re back at square one, to the way that there definitely is hope in the dark moments, and a light at the end of the tunnel. albeit a very faint one.
it comforted me in a way and reminded me of what i thought to be lost. fruitless, even. but sometimes, it’s books like these that open our eyes to things we’ve forgotten during times of turmoil: the simple goodness of life. and of people.
“if you’re going through hell, keep going.” winston churchill.
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( ✮ ) CANDYLAND — by @honeymoonjin
!! seokjin x reader ft. elf!jk | 13k !!
thriller, angst, fantasy, husband!jin, some cursing.
my mother is the biggest thriller fan. not that you needed to know that, but she is. and she’s not ashamed of it either. she’ll let you know if she’s reading a really good thriller in the moment. trust me, you’ll know.
me? not so much. i’m more of a sappy, hopeless romance, happy ending kind-of-sod — if you haven’t already guessed from this list. but there’s a reason this fic is on the list, too.
this fic genuinely kept me on the edge of my seat- uh, bed. the secrets of what darkness lingered behind the happy exterior of this adventure trip gripped my eyes to the screen, and lord, was it worth it.
throw a bit of husband!seokjin in there too? what more could you want! and written by @honeymoonjin? what a win.
let’s just say after this fic i added a few other thrillers to my basket. and happily reported to my mum i was a changed woman. okay, i’m exaggerating, but you get my point. it was incredible.
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( ✎ ) LILY LUCK — by @gguksgalaxy
!! yoongi x reader | 10.7k !!
soulmates!au, angst, fluff if u squint, very slight implicit sexual content, anxiety.
although this fic may be the shortest on the list, do not underestimate its power. it is still as mighty as the others— perhaps, even more so.
i think the main emotion i want to hone into concerning this fanfic is compassion. it sinks into your bones and surrounds your entire being like a unwanted hug. and you can’t even stop it.
the author does a good job of making you feel intense compassion for the reader — who so desperately wants to meet her soulmate. which makes the ending that much more satisfying.
this is for those who’re lonely, need a pick up, or those who’re hopeless romantics and believe in love belonging to fate, such as myself.
“expectation is the root of all heartache.” william shakespeare. talking of the devil, he would definitely cry over this fic. either of bubbling emotions, or the fact he didn’t write it himself. sucks really. for him, not for me.
© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.
#shakespeare series#bts#bts series#bts x reader#bts fic recs#fic rec#kpop#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fic#bts scenarios#jungkook#namjoon au#taehyung#seokjin fic#hoseok#jiminbts#yoongi#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader
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Give me possessive koo smut 😇
pairing: dom!jk x fem!reader
genre: smut, drabble, request, unedited
word count: 2k
warnings: smut, drinking, lots of swearing, oral 4f, overstimulation, mocking, couch sëx, rough missionary, unsafe sëx, degradation, biting, slapping, squirting, bruising, hair pulling, dom!jk, sub!reader, a little toxicity, idk Sunday fun day ig
note: hope it’s to your liking♡ -dubu
“Unlock your phone.” Jungkook’s eyes pour into yours as he waits for your compliance.
“What?” you question, aggravated by his unnecessary interest in your coworkers.
“Open it, Y/N.” he insists, leaning back onto the sofa cushion, pressing the cold rectangle into your palm.
“Babe, seriously?” you whine, searching his eyes for a hint of playfulness, finding nothing but an ocean of severity.
You were having a conversation about work, letting your boyfriend know of your upcoming schedule and activities. You accidentally let the name of your project partner slip through your wine-coated lips.
Jungkook’s ears perked up at the ring of a masculine sounding name. You stare at him in defeat, taking the phone from his hand with a pitiful sigh.
“I haven’t even texted him yet, for Christ sakes Jungkook!” you say exasperated.
“Yet.” he replied matter-of-factually.
“It’s not like I chose to work with him, Koo.” you exclaimed dramatically, unlocking your phone and going to his saved contact.
You felt this antagonizing creature clawing at your tender insides for momentary satisfaction. Why did you let the wine talk before your instincts? Jungkook isn’t exactly the kindest when it comes to other men around you.
He wasn’t controlling, but his possessiveness was like an amplified speaker to anyone who even thought of sparing you a second glance.
You hated to admit it, but it was hot. The veins on his tattoo covered arms bulged with a vengeance. Each intricate pattern defining his Herculean figure.
The white T-shirt not leaving much to the imagination, your eyes lingered on his pierced lips as you passed the phone over. Earning a hum of approval from him, he tapped away on your phone.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You already follow him on Instagram?” he rhetorically asked, a mound of annoyance behind his darkening pupils.
“I follow all of my coworkers, Kookie.” you complained hesitantly, downing the rest of the red liquid that swirled in your large Burgundy glass.
“Listen, I don’t want you working with him. Simple.” he admitted, pressing the unfollow button on Hoseok’s profile.
You were beyond infuriated, you snatched your phone back pressing the follow button in an instant. Not thinking about the consequences that follow your instinctual actions. Jungkook chuckled at your sudden burst of anger.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Y/N?” he grabbed the phone from your hand, tossing it to the plush rug, letting it slide beneath your glass coffee table.
The wine made you drunk with rage, the other part of you craving a deeper need from your hellish boyfriend. Jungkook rose from his spot on the sofa, grabbing your neck and pinning you below him. He enjoyed the feeling of your palpitating heartbeat on his fingertips.
“Baby—“ you struggled to speak, legs clasping around his knee that rest atop your unclothed hips. Bad day to only wear his shirt, you thought to yourself.
“Shut up.” he glared down at you, putting pressure between your legs.
“Since you want to act like a pathetic slut —“ he pressed his knee down harder, rubbing your clothed pussy agonizingly slow.
“I’ll treat you accordingly.” he let your neck go finally, being met with a few strained coughs from you. You had no time to react, his shirt was being pulled from your body. Your head swimming with anticipation and thoughts of Jungkook’s defilement.
You felt dizzy and exposed to the harsh temperatures of your once comfortable living room. Jungkook watched you writhing under him, a predatory smile lingering on his soft face.
“You think it’s okay to let him spend time alone with you?” he grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks between his large hand.
“Looking at you, speaking to you, touching you.” he peered over your naked body once more, eyes lingering on your bare chest, his free hand stopping above your panty line.
“All this —“ he began lustfully, “ is mine.”
He ripped your panties from your lower half, causing you to scream in frustration, fighting against his muscular arm. He let your face go, delivering 3 small slaps to your cheek. Putting you in check before he had to let whatever caged animalistic intentions loose.
“I’ve had enough of your resistance, Princess.” he whispered hotly in your ear, biting your earlobe before moving to the next ear.
“I can smell how wet you are from here, Y/N.” he bit down again, sending you into a frenzy of pathetic whimpers.
“Your cunt is crying for my attention, but you want to play with some loser?” he questioned cockily, rubbing his bare palm over your soaking pussy.
You moaned his name in retaliation, hips rutting upwards against his calloused hand. He laughed at your feeble attempts at gaining friction, pulling his hand away.
“I’m going to ruin you right here, baby.” A smirk tugged at his lips, he leaned back on the couch. Grabbing his glass from the table and downing what once was at half full capacity.
He sucked in a small breath, biting his bottom lip before turning back to you. Pulling his shirt over his head and revealing everything your eyes have been waiting for.
“I want to leave a trace of me on every inch of your body.” He stood up from his seated position, stalking over you like this was his last chance to consume you.
He yanked your ankles towards him, turning your body to face him like you were praying beneath him. Your legs hung carelessly over the edge of the couch, too dizzy to hold them up for your waiting beast. He smiled down at you in admiration, loving how ruined you already looked beneath him. Pussy leaking onto the sofa cushion, legs sprawled open for him.
“Look at you — so fucking gorgeous” he gleamed, kneeling in front of your body. He ran a hand over your stomach, letting his inquisitive fingers explore your skin.
“Fucking love your tits, Princess.” he leaned down beginning his assault on your chest, licking and sucking at your nipple like a love drunken mad man.
“More — please Kookie,” you begged, arms resting on his back, nails scratching in intricate motions. He hummed against your nipple, tongue circling the bud feverishly.
He pulled away with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down his chin. “No one’s mouth will ever feel as good as mine.”
He started kissing down the center of your chest, occasionally leaving love marks on your memorized sensitive spots. He stopped just above your panty line, loving the way your breath hitched in your throat.
He went in with a wink, tongue lapping at your exposed sensitive skin. His tongue searched your core for unanswered questions, gripping at your hips with every moan you released. He slurped against your clit letting lewd noises drown out the sound of the crackling fireplace. He released one of your hips, bringing his hand down to open your lips. Exposing your clit to the invading muscle, he latched his lips around the bundle of nerves. You screamed in pleasure clasping your shaking legs around his head.
He removed his lips from your pussy, mouth shining with your essence. He worked two fingers over your clit, sliding them down until they hovered over your entrance. He grinned down at you before he inserted them, fingering you fiercely.
“Aww, who makes you feel this good? Hmm Y/N?” He cooed happily, “Who’s pussy is this?” He mewled, setting his fingers into a come hither motion.
“Y-yours—“ you cried out desperately, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.
He used his free hand to slap your clit repeatedly, sending you into a crying mess. Your legs closed around his arm, body writhing against his unmoving fingers. He pulled you closer and closer to your orgasm, biting his lip in concentration, relishing in the sounds you were making for him.
“Cum, baby. I want to feel you cum on my fingers before I fuck the soul out of you.” he confessed sweetly, sickeningly sweet. You groaned at his words, letting the knot in your stomach burst. You felt stars cloud your vision as his fingers continued their actions.
He used his free hand to slap your pussy again, smiling at the way you cried out for him to stop. He kept going, moaning at your cunt clenching repeatedly around his fingers.
“Koo, please” you implored weakly, hiccuping along with a string of moans.
“Please what? Stop?” he questioned teasingly, “No.”
You felt another knot forming in your lower stomach, his fingers edging you closer to a stronger orgasm. Your stomach felt funny, it felt different, like a new sensation of pleasure was pushing through.
His urged you to cum, his fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. With a few last pumps, you felt yourself release on his fingers, screaming his name in shock. You stomach twitched continuously, opening your eyes to see the aftermath of what just happened.
You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s lower face glistening with your mess, his pupils dilated and hungry for more. You felt your cheeks grow warm, not knowing what to say next, you’ve never done that before.
“Naughty girl, why’ve you never squirted like that before? Guess I should do better, huh?” He rose from his position on the floor, giving you a second to catch your breath while he removed his shorts.
His cock sprung free from its restraints, mushroom head aggressively leaking with pre-cum. “I want you to take this dick like the slut that you are,” he pumped his hand around his length, moaning at the way you lasciviously looked at him.
He lowered himself down until he was level with your center, rubbing the tip against your sticky folds. You granted him a pitiful whine, biting the corner of your swollen lip as you watched him rub against you.
“Use your words, Y/N. I won’t hold back unless you say it,” he probed, restraining himself from slamming his hips forward. You lay quietly looking him in his eyes, daring him to take you.
“Fuck —“ he pushed into you gradually, “squeeze my dick just like that,” he groans fingers pressing heavily into your hips.
“So big, just want you,” you moaned at him, pussy clenching around his cock again. He pulled away slowly, ramming back into your hips with brute force. His balls lewdly slapping against your skin as he fucked you into the sofa. He picked up his pace, rhythmically filling the room with grunts. He reached forward taking a hold of your hair and yanked your head back, biting your exposed neck. A light sheen a sweat coated your hot skin, beads of sweat running down your cheeks as he fucked you. The living room rang with filthy words of mocking betrayal and faux empathy for your overstimulated figure.
He pressed a hand down on your lower stomach, eyes nearly bulging from his head at the feeling of his cock invading your insides. His actions made your breathing increase, hiccuping over his name. His face contorting in immense pleasure as he demanded you repeat after him.
“Say it. Tell me you love me while you take this dick, Y/N.” you felt your hips aching, knowing marks already began forming on your body.
“I love you Jungkook—“ you cried out obediently, pussy convulsing around his stilled cock. Your orgasms rushing through your bodies. You shivered at the empty feeling you felt when he removed himself. He leaned down pressing a kiss on your neck, wiping some of the sweat from your foreheads.
“I love you too.” he smiled boyishly, breathing heavy and warm on your neck. “I’m taking you to work all next week, babe.”
#bts fluff#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts#bangtan#bts army#bts one shot#bts angst#bts rm#bts suga#bts seokjin#bts park jimin#bts writing#bts jhope#bts taehyung#bts jungkook#jeon jungguk#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#bts jk#jk bts#jk smut#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jjk bts
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Always, Us (Suchwita)
Min Yoongi/FemIdol!Reader Requests open!
Warnings: Established relationship, discussion of pregnancy and marriage, idol!au
Word Count: 1506 M.list
‘Today on suchwita, we have someone people have wanted for a long while.’ Yoongi addressed the cameras as you stood at the side, excitedly waiting for your cue. Since Yoongi started his show, fans had wanted you to make an appearance, but there was never a good enough reason for you to appear until now. You don’t know if the reason fans wanted you here because they genuinely liked you, or if they just wanted to be nosey about your relationship now that it was public. Either way, you were happy to do this for Yoongi.
‘It’s Y/N of the group Prima.’ He stood from his seat and welcomed you with a bow, before pulling your chair out for you. You feigned shock as you sat down.
‘This is how you know cameras are around. He’s acting like a gentleman.’
‘YAH! Don’t say that!’ He snorted with a laugh as he sat down opposite you. ‘I’m always kind.’
‘Sure if you say so.’
‘I’m sure you noticed I got your favourite alcohol here. I’ll keep it for myself if you carry on.’ He smirked, gesturing to the various colourful bottles on the table.
‘You wanna play that game?’ You challenged, leaning forwards with a smirk to match his own. Yoongi relented, leaning back and waving his hands with a smile.
‘Ok, we’re getting off topic and we haven’t even started yet.’ You also relaxed, but you knew you had won that round.
‘As I was aying, this is your favourite. Let me pour you a glass.’ You held out your glass and thanked him as he poured.
‘People have been curious about us since we went public right?’ You asked, getting right into why you were there.
‘Yes.’ He agreed, drinking from his own glass. ‘How did it feel for you to finally be open after having to hide it for so long?’ Yoongi had given you a brief run down of the kind of questions that would be asked the night before, so that you could prepare, though you didn’t want to just write and memorise a script, especially when it came to your love life. You wanted your words to be as natural as possible.
‘It felt good to not have to sneak around. I know you were relieved too.’ Yoongi nodded in agreement.
‘It made me feel like we were a couple of horny teenagers sneaking out at night.’ He laughed.
‘Oh yeah you’re right! But looking back I don’t know why we hid it so long. People have been shipping us since we first met pretty much.’ You smiled warmly, thinking back to when you posted a picture of yourself and a young trainee Yoongi onto your groups twitter account. Yoongi wasn’t well know back then, but your fans were curious about your connection to the young trainee.
‘Do you remember how we met?’ Yoongi asked, smoothly moving the conversation along. You didn’t answer right away. You looked down as a subtle blush spread across your cheeks as you thought of the memory.
‘Why are you blushing? Don’t get shy now!’ Yoongi laughed as he called you out.
‘Shut up.’ You mumbled, all in good fun.
‘Ok. I was late for rehearsal and I ended up barging into your guys room by accident.’ You cringe at that part. ‘ You all stared at me and I was so embarrassed, but you also offended me that day!!’ Yoongi raised his eyebrows questioningly. Had he really?
‘Yes!’ You exclaimed, making him a little nervous. ‘You didn’t know who I was! Even though I debuted like 2 years before that!’ Yoongi sighed in relief and rolled his eyes.
‘I told you before! I didn’t know many current groups back then! I was too busy trying to debut myself.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ You crossed your arms with a pout.
‘Why are you pressed about that still? It was over a decade ago!’
‘That’s not the point! I’m your senior so you should respect me!’ Yoongi choked out and exasperated laugh, before he addressed the crew.
‘do you see what I deal with on a daily basis?’
‘You see! This is what I mean.’ You laughed whilst gesturing towards him. ‘No respect...’ Yoongi shook his head, laughing at the interaction.
‘You know, my mom keeps asking me when we’re going to give her grand kids.’ You froze and internally cursed him for bringing up this topic. It’s not like you don’t want babies with him, it just never felt like the right time to try. Especially now with his military service coming up...
‘I always thought we’d try after your enlistment, but we never really discussed it....’ You confessed, feeling the energy of the room die slightly. You saw Yoongi’s eyes widen ever so slightly at your answer, but he covered it up by rubbing his face.
You weren’t lying when you said it hadn’t been talked about, so your answer definitely caught him off guard.
‘We also need to find time for a wedding.’ He played it off cooly, trying to move on with a joke. You frowned to yourself. His reaction was strange. This definitely needed more investigating.
The remainder of filming flew by. You’d managed to avoid any more awkwardness after that and put on a good show. You were fairly certain that part would be cut anyway. It may have been a little too personal to bring it up in that way in hindsight....
‘So, do you want to talk about what you said?’ Both you and Yoongi were sat in his car in the parking lot. You could get a lift from the company driver, but Yoongi proffered the freedom of being able to drive himself. ‘About having kids?’ He looked over to you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Looking down at your hands in your lap, you began to speak.
‘I meant what I said. I want kids with you, but I ... also don’t want to give up my career...’ You trailed off. He sucked in a breath at your words, but stayed silent. ‘I just said that about your enlistment because I didn’t know what else to say.’ You sniffled slightly, but you were determined to not get upset. Yoongi placed a comforting hand on your thigh and leaned across the console.
‘Hey. You won’t loose your career. You really think Bang PD would let you go after all these years?’ He spoke soothingly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop a few tears escaping your eyes.
‘I know it’s stupid to think this way but-‘ Yoongi quickly shook his head.
‘Don’t talk like that. If you’re upset it’s not stupid, ok?’ He had now moved his hand to the back of your neck, rubbing calming circles into your skin. You slowly looked up at him to see him giving you a reassuring smile. You were unable to stop yourself from reaching up and pulling him into a hug, or as much as you could manage with the gear box between you.
‘I’m sorry I got upset.’ You mumbled into his neck. He craned his neck to place a kiss on the side of your head.
‘Nothing to be sorry for.’ You both stayed like that for a few relaxing moment as you calmed down. Pulling back, you wiped at your eyes before quickly pecking his lips.
‘We need to talk properly at some point, but right now I need you to take me home so I can stuff my face with ice cream.’ Yoongi broke out into his iconic gummy smile as he stared at you.
‘You must be feeling better if you can crack jokes. Now put your seatbelt on woman.’ Yoongi pulled out of the parking lot and started the journey home. You both sat in comfortable silence, only the sounds of the quiet radio played in the car. You thought back to the filming, when you suddenly remembered something he so casually said during the interview.
‘So...’ He glanced at you briefly, before looking back to the road. ‘What was that about a wedding?’ You smirked when he choked on his own spit and clearing his throat.
‘Ah yeah. That...’
‘You haven’t even proposed to me.’ You teased, hoping he might get a hint. Yoongi fully looked at you when he pulled up to a traffic light, smile tugging at his lips.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘I certainly wouldn’t be oppose to the idea!’ You both sent coy smiles to each other and that was that. Conversation over.’ The two of you didn’t need to get married to know you loved each other, but having said that...
And thus, a few weeks later, Korea woke to the news that you and Yoongi had secretly eloped and made your marriage official.
You had a lot of explaining to do to your parents, but you got out of it by promising that you would have a ‘proper’ ceremony at a later date. For now though, you were both content with how things were.
#bts#bts x reader#imagine#one shot#scenario#drabble#reaction#smut#angst#fluff#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#kim namjoon#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#idol!au#Request
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Stories by Member
JJK
Not a Creature was Stirring
You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU.
Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring]
You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.
Banana Milk
It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?
The Fantasy
You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…
I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You
Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?
Ddak-ji SLAP
Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-
Campfire Burning
A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.
Seven Days a Week
Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader
Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75%
“Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character
The Snap - 70%
The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?
KTH
Christmas with a Vampire
There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.
BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey)
Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?
V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90%
What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.
PJM
Christmas Mass
Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.
You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name
You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin
KNJ
Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM
Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;)
Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special!
You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.
Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet
just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.
V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90%
What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.
I Appreciate Your Apology
A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.
Cold Feet
You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want?
JHS
Day Dream
The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok
Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending
Disco Winter Ball
You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special
I Thought You Were Mine?
Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–
MYG
The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder
Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.
Yoongi is a Rock
That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock.
Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff
I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You
Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?
Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special!
You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.
King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass]
The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.
KSJ
The Flower Bridge
You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.
Meet Cute, Time Loop
A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.
Ddak-ji SLAP
Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-
Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho
Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.
Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet
just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.
Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin
Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no!
Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%
OT7
SERIES
Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU]
A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.
Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?
Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU]
…the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, “she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.”
Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?
Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU]
You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down…
Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?
Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn]
A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again.
Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?
T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller]
The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world
Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?
DRABBLES
BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)
BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean
MASTERLISTS
Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist
Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist
BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)
Original Masterlist
#bts masterlist#bts imagines#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fantasy au#bts hybrid au#bts yandere#bts soulmate au#ot7 x reader#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#yoongi x reader#jimin x reader#namjoon x reader#hoseok x reader#seokjin x reader
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | Series M.list
✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly!)
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
word count: tbd
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, alcohol consumption, sexism in the media and business world, morally grey characters, toxic relationships, mentions of therapy, abandonment issues, and explicit sexual content (specified per chapter)
playing: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: ik what you're thinking! This header is low effort but it's what i got for now 😫 forgive me pls! Also yeah its another fricken taekook love triangle-ish bc I can't let this scenario go. Was supposed to be a oneshot but here we are...i hope you enjoy! 🌹❤
Chapters
༓ chapter i —
"I lie to my heart 'cause I thought you felt it" [3.3k]
༓ chapter ii —
"You can't light a fire, if the candle's melted" [4.5k]
༓ chapter iii —
"No you don't have to love me"
༓ chapter iv —
"Don't act like I mean nothing"
༓ chapter v —
"Untake this heart"
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts imagines#fic:guiltypleasures#kookslastbutton
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until forever falls apart | 01.
pairing: kim taehyung, reader
genre: angst, exes au.
warnings: emotional cheating, infidelity, swearing, detailed smut, chain smoking as a coping mechanism.
word count: 11.8k
description: you’ve never been much of a believer in the phrase ‘first love never dies’ but it seems as if the universe badly wants to prove it to you — and you’re absolutely and royally damned the moment you find out that the phrase holds truth.
or alternatively, you come as a stand-in photographer for your cousin’s prenup shoot and you find out that it’s your secret ex who’s about to get married, and kim taehyung really doesn’t make it any less easy for you.
01 | ongoing.
Love has always been easy for you — both falling into or getting out of it, but more of the latter, really.
However, there are things about this so-called ‘love’ that you don’t quite get — will probably never get — and it leaves you in a sticky position when friends come to ask advice that roots from such a concept.
It always ends in a snotty mess and a sigh of I don’t know why I came to you for this at the end anyway. It makes you feel like shit; a clueless, ignorant, wondering piece of shit because how is it that everyone seems to have been looking at love and defining it from a single different lens with a unified perspective, and you’re stuck at seeing it from the other endpoint.
It isn’t your fault you don’t assimilate hurt with loving, is it? It isn’t your fault that you don’t expect to clean up a colossal mess every time love comes to its end. And it most certainly isn’t your fault that when love ends, you let it go. It ended, and that’s that. For you, anyway. So, why exactly, do people fault you for having such a reaction at the conclusion of a relationship?
Why does it seem to be a taboo and something that’s unheard of when a month after a relationship ends, you find yourself not grieving over a love that’s lost? When and why does it seem to have become the standard to mope and pine and cry as if acceptance and moving on is an outlawed concept right after a relationship ends?
That’s because you’re a heartless, unfeeling bastard, that’s why, as your best friend, Jungkook, so likes to put it every single time. And maybe, it is the defeat and the eventual acceptance that people will never see things in your perspective that you just roll your eyes and move on with your day.
Love, for you, is something that ends when it ends. A wound that closes, heals. It leaves a scar, sure. You remember the hurt, yes. But the initial peak of pain wouldn’t be there again if it healed, would it.
With all that, you’ve become unsure — of what to do, of what to say, of how to act — when people lament over a lost love. Which, at this very moment, is what exactly your sister is doing.
All tears, snot, and hiccups under your blankets.
Sobs wrack her body in an uncontrollable shake, a vibrating mess under the sheets as you’re left to wonder what the fuck to do with your hands. But you never get the answer because she wails, head lifting from the blankets, “How could he do that to me? Six years, six years! Six years he threw away for what, a year of meaningless sex with his assistant?”
You don’t really think it’s meaningless when dear, dear respectable Hyunwoo decides to break off the engagement, but you keep your mouth shut and continue to awkwardly pat your sister’s back.
Your hand stills just an inch away from her back when she looks at you, wet eyes and mouth set in a downward curve, and whispers, “What should I do now?” She sniffles and you flinch. Because her goddamn snot is staining your bed but fuck, okay, you can’t think about that now, “I love him.”
You hesitate, weighing the words you’re about to speak in your head and thinking about the consequences before settling for a question, “You–you’re not thinking about giving him another shot if he asks for it, are you?”
At this, your sister remains silent and you sigh because yes, yes she will give him a chance in one heartbeat if the bastard do so much as give her a fucking petal and a printed ‘I’m sorry’ hallmark note.
“You don’t get it.”
Ah, there it is.
Of course, it’s always going to come down to you not getting it.
Maybe your sister sees it, the anger bubbling in your gaze as you glare at her, because she scrambles to sit down with her legs underneath her, knees parallel each other as she kneels on the bed facing you.
And it would have been funny, seeing your older sister like this, but the searing exasperation breaks through and you let it, mouth opening, “No, you don’t get it. See, this is not just a matter of moving the fuck on. He fucked you over, Hana, so much that there’s no amount of apology or groveling he can do to fix that. He fucked his assistant when he’s due to walk down the aisle in a year with you and if that doesn’t spell out how much respect he has for you, for our family, and you still choose to remain blind despite that, then you came to the wrong person because I won’t coddle you.”
“I care about you,” your voice softens and you see her shoulders slump, “This is not just about my once-it-ends-then-it-ends view on relationships. Hyunwoo did an unthinkable, unforgivable thing and there’s no going back from that. I’m not letting you walk back to the person who lacks respect for a relationship, much less for you. Do you get where I’m coming from?”
Hana nods meekly, head hanging low before you hear her sniffle once more. It hurts to see her like this and you want nothing more but to pummel the son of a bitch who did this to her, “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head and you let out a breath, all air knocked out from your lungs when she slumps forward, arms snaking around your shoulders as she pulls you in for a tight hug, the phrase of ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ a litany on her tongue. You squeak as her legs slither their way around you in a tight grip and she lets out a weak laugh that sounded much more like a wheeze before you push her off, feeling a wet blot on your shoulder.
“I want to be you for a day. Not like you,” she mutters as she gets comfortable on the pillows, your pillows, “But be you entirely. I want this pain to vanish in a week and just forget about him.”
She pauses, “Maybe after I key his car.”
The pain doesn’t vanish, you think and tell her. “I just learned how to deal with it, Hana. And it isn’t overnight that I do it. And you will get over it too. Heal from it. Someday, one day.”
The silence that follows is comforting, and you think she must’ve fallen asleep, just as most do after a good cry. But she hasn’t, you realize, when she rolls over once more and speaks in a quiet voice, “The way you are right now,” she pauses, only continuing when you give her a nod, “is it because of him?”
There are only a handful of people that could fit about who she means, you know that, but you refuse to speak of any of them and opt to ask her a question instead, “Which way that I am exactly are you referring to?”
“The closed-off you,” Hana replies, a soft tilt to her words, “I had a theory, you know, that you moved on so fast from the relationships you had after because you were never really invested in the people after him. That he broke you, enough for you to place that, whatever you have around your heart that doesn’t allow people to hurt you. You love other people, but you never really allow them to love you as much because of it which makes detachment and parting easier when it ends.”
You don’t really mean to, but the words Hana speaks are like a vacuum, drawing you into a place you’ve managed to tuck away in the very back of your mind. Memories rush in and you drown in it — of honey blond hair, rectangle smiles, and skin that smelled of oakmoss and jasmine.
“Am I right?”
You let out a laugh as you nudge a pillow towards your sister, “You and your unending theories. No, Hana. It’s not because of anyone in particular. This is just how I am, how I think. It’s just unfortunate that it's only the minority that shares the same sentiments as I do.”
Hana looks as if she’d try to refute before deciding against it, groaning when her phone rings and you raise an eyebrow because who in hell would be calling her at midnight. She shakes her head, twisting the phone around so you can see who’s calling and you see the word Studio and you shrug before she takes the call, only hearing snippets of the conversation and it seems as if it's about work.
Hana owns a photography studio — a hobby turned business venture with her friends. Your parents were against it initially, deeming it a ‘not suitable’ business for Hana, but your older sister is a head-strong bull and proceeded with her plans without a single support from your parents and of course, because she’s Hana Park, she can make anything succeed if she puts her mind to it.
“—yeah, you goof, I’ll be right there, don’t worry. Why are you so stressed about this anyway, is this your secret wedding or something?” You lie closer to your sister and she mouths ‘Jimin’ before returning to picking her nails, “I get it, okay. Stop freaking out, I promise to be there tomorrow. M’kay, bye.”
She heaves a dragged-out, exaggerated sigh just as she tosses her phone on the bed where it bounced, “You know, I’d assume it’s our dear brother’s prenuptial photoshoot tomorrow with the way he’s freaking out over the details. I’d actually think that if I didn’t know of him and his single ass and his emotional attachment to his bachelor title.”
“It’s Sunday tomorrow, and you’re booked because of that phone call,” You list, “So I can only assume Jimin knows one of them and used his connections to book your exclusive ass into working on a Sunday.”
Hana laughs, “You’re not wrong. Soyeon made the reservation for November, which is like, a month from now. Jimin moved it for tomorrow in such a rush last week for reasons I don’t know why.”
“Soyeon?” You gasp, eyes going wide, “You’re not talking about Yang Soyeon, are you? Oh my god, how did I not know about this?”
Your sister snorts, ungraceful and loud, “Who would have expected for the youngest cousin in the family to be the first one to be wed, huh? Date’s set for April next year and I don’t even know who she’s marrying,” But she pauses and a frown mars her features, “I would’ve been the first one to walk the aisle and yet, here I am.”
Wait.
“Hana,” you start, “aren’t you meeting Hyunwoo’s parents tomorrow for brunch? To formally call off the wedding? Isn’t that what you came here for tonight, because you were having second thoughts of actually calling it off tomorrow?”
You see the realization dawn upon her, her eyes widening in recognition of the planned confrontation, her mouth dropping to a comical shape of the letter ‘o’ before she sits up so fast you actually ask if her back’s okay and you hear the frantic hits of her nails against the glass of her phone, the worry leaking thickly in her voice as she speaks to multiple people, all of which ending in a frustrated sigh and groan from your older sister.
“Fuck!” she screams as she disconnects from a call once more, “I can’t find anyone to replace me, everyone’s either booked already or have plans for tomorrow. Fuck, shit, I’m screwed. Jimin’s going to kill me. No photographer’s available tomorrow, what am I going to do now, I—you.”
You still, nailed in place by her stare, “Fuck are you looking at me for?”
It’s in this moment you feel the doom coming down on you from all the corners of the universe when Hana smiles, actually feeling it that you shiver. She picks up the phone, calls Jimin, asks if 10 o’clock is okay for everyone to gather tomorrow, kisses your cheek good night.
Kiss of fucking death, you feel like.
You’re never a morning person — nor do you have plans to become one — and you aren’t used to being awakened by a goddamn wet, slimy tongue licking your face all over.
Hana’s laugh echoes around your room, followed by hushed good job from her and a shrill bark from her dog (you really did not know how Orion arrived here when the dog wasn’t even here last night), and you are never one to have thoughts of murder so early in the morning but your family has really been testing your limits. But then you remember that you willingly handed over to Hana the passcode to your apartment, something for emergencies and shit like that, but of course, she took it as an invitation to come and go as she pleases.
Fortunately, she cleans up after Orion’s mess, thank god.
Rolling over, you prepare to squint as protection against the glare of the sun since Hana had already pulled back the curtains, but you sit up at the lack of the sun’s intrusion into your eyes and see that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. The city that you can see through the glass window is quiet, still in deep sleep. As you should be just before Hana woke you up.
“Dad’s going to have a fit when I tell him what you’re blackmailing me to do,” you groan, falling back on your pillow, “I’m running his business and here you are making me take photos of people Dad hates, well, by extension.”
Hana does nothing but flash you a grin, “You’re the only one I can trust to be on par with my skills, honey. Besides, I already have Dad booked in the freaking out area ‘cause you know, I’m a bachelorette now.”
You roll your eyes and you move off your bed, making it neat and tidy to which Hana scoffs before grabbing the mug of cold coffee right from her hands and chugging it all down. Looks like you’ll need more than a cup with what you’re going to be faced with today.
“Is Jimin coming? My car’s in the mechanic, I’m getting it tomorrow.”
Hana nods before telling you just how far Jimin is from your apartment, “About Jimin, actually.” Your sister trails off and you feel an oncoming headache because of course, there’s more.
“I didn't exactly tell him I can’t make it today so I’m trusting you to, um, calm him down when he freaks? He’s only weak to your charms and absolutely immune to mine.”
Turns out a little while after that, Jimin’s absolutely immune to the both of you. Especially you.
“No, what the fuck. What—no.”
Jimin stands frozen, fingers gripping the edges of the kitchen island. His eyes are wide, mouth open in disbelief as he listens to Hana’s explanations of why she can’t go today, her eyes flashing as if to call you for help but you only shrug because there’s really nothing you can do to help her out of this. She made her own bed, might as well let her lie in it.
It irks you quite a bit though when Jimin starts to become unreasonable despite Hana’s crystal clear explanation as to why she’s unavailable today, and on a typical day, you know Jimin would understand, and would easily let it go because obviously, Hana’s life matters take precedence over a photoshoot that can be scheduled on a different day. Jimin today, however, is extra adamant on not having you take over the shoot and it might have very, just very slightly struck the wrong nerve in you.
“You know, Jimin, if this is a matter of your trust in my abilities, I’d gladly back out of this. I’m doing this as a favor to Hana, I’m not here to help you,” you quip, tight and low as you regard the both of them, “So, if you refuse to accept my help, then call your friend to find another photographer, better yet schedule another one with Hana.”
Hana starts to protest but Jimin shakes his head, turns to you with soft eyes and a pouting set of lips, “I’m sorry, that came off wrong. Really wrong. I swear I wasn’t trying to undermine your abilities, nor am I saying that there is anything to undermine because you’re good as shit at this, maybe even better than Hana, it’s just that—”
He cuts off his ramble mid-sentence as if to catch himself — to keep from spilling whatever his reservation about you being the stand-in for Hana, which you don’t really know what.
Three things about Jimin are these: he rambles when he’s extremely nervous, fidgets with his thumbs when he’s scared, and refuses to make any eye contact if he believes he’s done something wrong. It’s always one of the three when it comes to him and never altogether. And yet, he stands in front of you, doing all three simultaneously and your heart plummets to the marble flooring beneath you because what is he so scared of, really, to be like this in front of you.
“Look, if you don’t want me to do this, that’s okay,” You start to speak and Jimin turns to you and opens his mouth to speak when you shake your head. You aren’t finished speaking, “That is, if you have an alternative, if Soyeon agrees to reschedule, I’m sure Hana can fit them right in some other time—” You give a pointed look at your sister who rolls her eyes but nods, “—but if they don’t, you have no choice, Jimin. Unless you want to take the photos yourself.”
Jimin lets out a breath, agrees, and proceeds to call whoever he needs to and converses in a low tone that isn’t discernible to you, but Hana can hear and your eyebrows furrow in concern when her head turns so fast towards Jimin’s direction, panic clear-cut in her eyes as she picks up on whatever it is that Jimin is saying. She curses under her breath, turns ghostly pale before she pulls Jimin into one of the guest rooms, leaving you to your thoughts and your second cup of coffee.
“You kept this?”
It’s a good three minutes after that Jimin’s voice pulls you out of your trance — your attention previously held by the large black ant that is now on top of an apple. You turn and your breath hitches at the rough sketch of the overly-familiar Pomeranian in his right hand. You shrug, “Jungkook must have left it there when he came over.”
At this, Jimin raises his eyebrows. Stares at the picture a little bit too long before putting it back in place, under Jungkook’s purple-pink painting of a sunset, to the right of Jimin’s present two years before. He then looks at you, really looks at you, that you become unnerved enough to look away and pretend to busy yourself with some imaginary dust on the counter.
You know. You know how the framed sketch is too clean, too in place, and too taken care of to be something that your best friend accidentally left behind. And you know Jimin knows this too with the way his eyes turn to you and you fear. Fear that pity would be reflected in them and so you stand abruptly, deaf to the frantic calls of Hana and you head straight to the building basement and settle comfortably on the passenger seat of Jimin’s car.
You ran because you’re a coward — afraid to face questions you know you have no answers to.
Jimin enters not a minute later, silent and mum, but the silent looks your sibling keeps giving you is not something you miss no matter how discreet he tries to be about it. You brush it off though, citing the tense atmosphere to be the reason he’s doing so.
But little do you know that this is the first of the many mistakes you will be making — the tiniest among all others.
The theme is simple. Glamour, editorial-esque Vogue-spread motif. Fit for the rich. Something that exudes elegance and opulence. Classy, simple, and elegant. You nod as you skim through the print-out Hana rushes to get to you through one of her employees, one hand busy writing ideas and suggestions.
It warms your heart that despite all the things Hana has to face today, she hasn’t failed to make everything easier for you, as she always does. And everything’s in accordance, just as they should be. That is, except for one, someone. Jimin really cannot stop himself from shaking and you actually fear the poor boy is turning into a leaf, dancing in the wind, with how he physically cannot stop himself from moving.
You’ve had enough of it — his nervous fidgeting, the frantic scan of his eyes among the crowd, the unending bounce of his knees — so you move to approach him, just in time to pluck out the cigarette he’s about to light in his hand and he jumps, “Minie, you’re making me nervous here. I’ve seen you nervous but it’s never been this bad.”
Jimin looks at you and your chest constricts at the face he’s making. A beat, two beats before he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.”
You think of the exchange back at your apartment, the one where it came off as if he had no faith in you as Hana’s substitute and you let out a small laugh. You know Jimin would never think that. Flicking his chin, you shake your head, “It was me who took your words the wrong way, Min. You don’t need to apologize.”
He looks as if he wants to say more but a car pulls up, red and ostentatious with the way the roof is folded down, and you grin as you see your cousin, a matching upward curve to her lips.
It isn’t new, really, when you catch sight of her hair — beautiful shades of cotton candy pink and pastel blue glinting under the sun.
Beautiful, daring Soyeon, the darling of the Yangs.
You nearly meet your end, though, that day if it isn’t for Jimin cursing and pulling you back when Soyeon isn’t able to stop her car at the designated yellow parking line and she too squeaks a wheeze when she steps on the brakes. The car comes to a stop, and you see her breath does too, before she throws her head back and laughs.
“You’re fucking crazy.”
She sticks out her tongue before she jumps over the door, her flimsy taupe pants billowing after her. You only manage to let out a yelp of protest before she has you and Jimin in a bone-crushing hug and you feel your chest rasp to get some air in when she squeezes once more before finally letting go.
“This is a two-people marriage we’re having today, right? You’re not marrying yourself here?” You ask and laugh as she rolls her eyes. It’s definitely her thing and it wouldn’t be a surprise if she did. “I didn’t even know you were in a relationship and now you’re getting married?”
She shrugs, a wide smile still on her lips, “It just happened,” Her eyebrows furrow when she looks over at Jimin who’s uncharacteristically silent and nudges him, “I still won’t forgive you. I know my groom’s your best friend but it doesn’t really give you a free-pass to have him here at six in the morning to get you coffee. Who does that?”
You don’t really hear what Jimin has to say to her because you’re bidding your goodbye to them both when one of Hana’s assistants — the one she had assigned to brief you over all the details of today’s shoot — pulls you from the conversation, apology written all over her face at the thought of interrupting you but as soon as she open her mouth to speak, you dismiss it with an its okay and you signal for her to go ahead.
“This is the final list of the concepts Hana had brainstormed which one of the client is yet to choose from,” she hands you a thin stack of paper, a portfolio sandwiched between two clear binding covers, “The bride has already chosen the concepts she wants that are to be included for today’s shoot, so, all that's left is to hand the checklist to the groom for the shoot next week.”
Nodding, you skim through the portfolio and shit, it’s definitely good.
You’re whisked away towards the building, directed towards the seventh floor of the rented building in which you’re told Soyeon’s groom is, handpicking his outfits for the day.
You give the door a knock, hearing a bustle of people talking on the other side of the door, and when no one answers, you push the door open. You’re immediately greeted by a flurry of people walking back and forth, all of them either with stacks of paper in their arms or Brioni and Gucci suits in tow.
It’s a mess, a downright mess you want to run from because you haven’t ingested enough coffee to face this.
Which is exactly why you nearly cry when someone steps in front of you, a neat smile in place and a large cup of iced coffee in one hand, a hand extending towards you, “You look like you need this.”
He tilts his head once, gesturing inside the room, “I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi. Jimin texted me earlier that his other sister is standing in for Hana and I assume that’s you.”
Something feels vaguely familiar about Min Yoongi and you list it off as a passing name Jimin had mentioned in the stories he had told you.
“There’s a meeting room on the very far left, grumpy groom’s there,” Yoongi smiles, “Nice meeting you, um—”
“(Y/N). My name’s (Y/N), nice to meet you too, Yoongi.”
You think as you walk that there’s no point in going over next week’s concept today since Hana can already make it by the next photoshoot and she would’ve understand better the dynamics of it all if they talk then, but okay, since you’re already here, might as well help all the way.
Through the frosted glass of the meeting room, you see a silhouette, tall and broad. You have never been a people-person and meeting new ones really isn’t your strong point so you take three deep breaths, hand tightening on the cup of coffee Yoongi handed you, before pushing the glass door open.
“Hi, I’m sorry I ran a bit late. It’s—”
And you stop.
You stop because you suddenly can’t feel the cold cup slipping from your grip. You stop because you feel the liquid pool at the very bottom of your shoes, sticky and wet and messy. You stop because you can’t breathe. You stop because your heart fucking stops too at the sight of Kim Taehyung.
Beautiful, dazzling Kim Taehyung.
First boyfriend, first love, now ex-lover, Kim Taehyung.
Soyeon’s groom and soon-to-be husband, Kim Taehyung.
“Everything okay here?” Yoongi. You hear his footsteps behind you before you see him and you can’t be thankful enough at the interference that’s very much needed.
But you allow yourself to be pathetic, just as you always are around Kim Taehyung. And because you can’t help it, frankly, when your eyes meet his and all sense that is good and common jumps out the window behind him. Because he looks fucking beautiful — him and his honey hair that’s now framing his face, a little bit longer, lighter. Because the room reeks of him, jasmine, vanilla, and oakmoss and it consumes you. The part of you that, despite it all, still longs for the Kim Taehyung from four years past.
On a good day and you meet him once more, you think you would have laughed. A fake smile and a head held high would’ve done it in front of him. But all it takes is one look now. One look, at the time when all your defenses are down, for the self-imposed chain that blocks it all to break and give, a domino effect in your mind as it all comes back; the whirlwind of feelings and emotions that the calamity of him brings forth.
You nod, feeling the light touch of Yoongi’s fingers around your arm, and you anchor yourself with it. Pull yourself from drowning in him once more. “Yeah, sorry,” You breathe, “It slipped. I’m really sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll have someone take care of it, don’t worry,” Yoongi waves you off when you bend down to start cleaning up your mess, nods toward Taehyung, “Go on, he gets grumpy if he’s left to wait.”
Oh, you know.
So, you do.
You drag your legs to where Taehyung stands, feeling like you’re hauling wet logs for limbs. It’s silent, save for the sound of Yoongi’s shoes against the floor as he kicks at the fallen blocks of ice, and maybe, he takes the silence for Taehyung’s bout of pettiness because he hisses a quiet behave before he walks out. The silence becomes even more suffocating when now it’s just you and Taehyung.
“So—”
“I—”
You shut your mouth when he speaks at the same time as you.
You decide, though, to continue because you’re here for one thing and that one thing entails that you have something to say to him. But he doesn’t, he shouldn’t.
“So, let’s talk about concepts. I’ve been told that Soyeon has already chosen the ones for today — for both your individual and couple shots, and you get to choose the ones for the shoot with Hana next week. Here,” you slide the portfolio across the table, taking a seat across his own without waiting for him, “Hana already made an outline for everything so, this, is basically a checklist you just have to choose from and—”
“How are you?”
“—I’m just going to wait until you’re done filling them out so I can bring them back and start with—”
“(Y/N).” You finally look at him then and you look away the second you do because you’re trying so hard to keep yourself whole and you feel like one second more in his gaze and you’ll fall apart, “I’m sorry.”
And you try. God, you try so hard to repress the tiny, evil voice that pushes you to throw reason out the window. But it comes out anyway, and there’s no stopping what flows out of your mouth after, “Why,” you laugh, “Sorry because you wouldn't have chosen Hana's studio if you knew I was the one to take your photos? Or sorry because you had my brother acting like a train wreck just to keep this from me? Don’t worry I won’t be here next week.”
His face pinches, tongue rolling out to wet his lips, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then don’t apologize to me—” you grit, fists clenched and heart thundering, “—as if you assumed that seeing you has put me in a position that hurt me. Because it really doesn’t. Not anymore, Taehyung. So if you have anything to apologize for—”
You cut yourself off because no, no he has nothing to apologize for. He doesn’t have to say sorry. One person deciding to walk out of a relationship doesn’t warrant an apology from them. An explanation, sure, but you don’t really need it from him. He made it clear enough all those years ago just before he slammed the door of your apartment shut that he just didn’t love you enough — not anymore then.
It’s been four years. It’s been four long years and you should be over him — and you are, you’re certain that you are. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt because it does, fuck, it still hurts so much and you don’t know why.
“—apologize to Jimin because I just know he feels like shit for lying to me because of you.”
You commit your second mistake that same day in the middle of shooting Taehyung’s individual photos. Soyeon had gone for a nature theme this time and so you find yourself in the middle of the forest with a near-naked Taehyung in tow and thank heavens it rains because one more glimpse through the viewfinder at his well-oiled torso and you might have combust and run away from the photoshoot, Hana’s reputation be damned.
Jimin seems to be attached to you now, becoming a human magnet not long after he had apologized so much he knelt, snuggling to your side every chance he gets that it’s suffocating you because he’s overcompensating but you don’t really have the heart to call him out. Not when he looks like a puppy whose tail got accidentally stepped on when you get around to even do so much as try.
So, you let him become your shadow for the time being, finally letting out a huge breath of relief when lunch time comes around and everybody takes a break and you slip past him to the very back of the dilapidated cabin you stumbled upon just before the last shoot ended, not too deep into the forest that faces the river.
Finally, you think, as you savor the peace, even though momentary. You’re glad to be away from the commotion and it makes you realize once more why you choose to be cooped up in an office. It’s because you really can’t handle this many people and it physically and emotionally drains you that you can’t think.
You pause when you reach into your pockets, the gritty warning from Hana and Jimin an alarm ricocheting in your mind how it’s an unhealthy habit and it’s going to fucking ruin you someday. But the short-lived guilt is replaced by justifications of how it’ll be a free-pass and your siblings can fuck off because they’re the reason you’re here in the first place.
Besides, burning through one stick won’t hurt them if they don't know.
So you let your fingers feel for the familiar leather case, pull the only stick inside and you’re so, so close to reaching your sweet release from this damned mental pressure when you realize you left your lighter at home. Letting out a curse, you clamp your mouth around the unlit cigarette, letting it hang and opting to indulge in its semi-sweet smell that goes so well with the rain.
“Want a light?”
You still, the cigarette falling from your lips at the sudden fright. Down, down, and down until it’s washed away by the rain. What a waste, you lament. Sighing, you turn and see Taehyung who’s sporting a sheepish smile, the same familiar white in between his own mouth, lit unlike yours, “I’d accept, but there’s really nothing that needs lighting anymore.”
He has a shirt on now, you notice, flimsy and buttoned up halfway. His hair is tousled messily, now free from the rigid form it previously had, and you give him your back when you feel the urge to fix the fraction of hair that has fallen forward. You hear him take a drag and you smell before you see the tendrils of gray smoke when he releases and god, the small whiff, even in the tiniest fume, has your shoulder relaxing.
“I’d offer one but I don’t have any spare with me,” you hear him say before you feel him move, “I’ll get the fallen one for you, if you want.”
You roll your eyes and wave him off before you see him lean against the other column, the change in position means that he’s now closer, closer than he’s ever been since the day you last saw him, years ago. And he’s close enough that the thin material of his shirt brushes against your hoodie when the wind moves. And you want to move too, only if it isn’t for the fact that one move and you’ll either fall into the river or be skewered by the worn down wood and you don’t really feel like dying today.
Ironic, how you went for a smoke break to relieve the stress of the day, only to have it doubled.
Now, this is where you make the second mistake.
Because you really don’t mean to stare at Taehyung. You don’t mean to let your stare at his mouth linger a second too long that he sees. It’s just unfortunate that the cigarette is in his mouth, and you stay fixated on the damn cigarette that you fail to see him catch your gaze and hold it.
It’s unfortunate that you don’t take a step back when he takes one step forward.
It’s unfortunate that you become pliant when his cold fingers softly grip your chin, coaxing your mouth to open and welcome the smoke that he blows from his own mouth, hot and intoxicating and tinged with the memories of all the nights past that he’s done this.
It’s unfortunate that you take a long drag when he places the soft end of the cigarette from his mouth to yours, unhesitating and eager.
“Feeling better?” He asks, gentle as he pulls the stick, planting it back to the hold of his mouth. You see a slight upward curve at the corners of it.
This is bad. Wrong and unacceptable and absolutely inappropriate, you know. But you can’t help but accept when he offers one more drag, an offer of release. This time you pluck it out from his fingers, feel the warmth of him around the smoke, and inhale.
It’s only when the embers die out that you feel it, the heavy feeling coming back tenfold as you realize the gravity of what you just did. Not for anyone else, but for you. The toll this will have on you when you go home and have all the time in the world to think about your stupidity. So before you get sucked into the void of self-destruction, you excuse yourself, not caring about the delicate drops of rain that fall but not before you turn back and shout your thanks.
“Okay, you shared a smoke, so what,” you mutter to yourself as you dry yourself off. You’re two people who share a history, a history that’s now dead and gone. A flame that was once bright but has now burned out, never to be rekindled again.
You enter the building with thoughts of rationalization that tries to justify what you’ve done as something harmless, clouding your mind enough that you don’t see Jimin barrel towards you with a smile on his face, only to be replaced with disgust when he breathes and chokes at the ghost of smoke that clings to your clothes.
He rummages through a nearby luggage and returns with a bottle of perfume, “If you want your head still attached to your shoulders by tonight, you’d know better and douse yourself in that shit because Hana’s here to take over and you only have two minutes to shove Listerine down your throat before she finds you.”
In the haste of trying to avert your sister’s wrath, you damn near shower the entire contents of the bottle, only to realize that night when you come home that despite the endless showers you take, you still smell like him. Because of all people, Jimin just had to take from Taehyung’s things and now you’re doused with him all over again.
It’s later that night that you’ll fall asleep to the smell of jasmine and vanilla despite years of trying so hard to rid your apartment of any scents.
Of any trace of Kim Taehyung.
The third and fourth mistake, you make five days later. A Friday that you’re miraculously off work early. Well, technically, you can get off whenever you want but as the faithful, loving, and overworking youngest child that you are, you’ve assimilated longer hours at your father’s company to productivity and so you’ve never really found reason to clock off early when you can do so much more if you stay a bit later than most.
Besides, the company won’t run by itself, so there’s that.
Now, though, you wonder why you thought like that because as you walk down the street, everything looks divine. The setting sun settles on the horizon, sandwiched between two skyscrapers, bleeding purple and orange and pink and it’s breathtaking. Painfully so. For the first time, you indulge yourself in the sounds of the busy city and for a change, it’s peaceful despite the loudness. You can’t remember the last time you took a stroll like this, having been so immersed in work. The last time you walked down the street the like had been years ago, with—
The breath you take is sharp and sudden that it has you bent over on the sidewalk, coughing and wheezing your lungs out that people start to look. You flash a smile, sending a quick thanks to your sister’s ex-lover for choosing to establish the studio within a five-minute walk from the company building, and nearly combusting on the spot when you pull their glass door that clearly says push right after you nearly heave your lungs out from climbing 10 sets of stairs because the elevator isn’t working, coincidentally.
“Hey,” you greet the people on the lounge before specifically turning to Younha — the one who had walked you through everything on the previous shoot, “Is Hana here? I have the initial photos ready if she wants to see. Played around and edited most of them.”
Younha looks sheepish as she raises her hand to her nape where she nervously scratches, “About that,” she grimaces, “Hana phoned earlier that she’s running a bit late tonight so she told me to look over the photos and pick the final ones with the client, but I don’t trust myself enough to do that just yet, so would it be okay if we go through it together?”
You assure her it’s okay. And really, it is, because you’ve finished work anyway and it’s a Saturday tomorrow. You can afford to be late an hour or so. You watch her plug the USB on one of the computers lined up against the wall, see her gasp when she pulls up the photos.
“Oh my god, these are beautiful. You’re telling me you shot each of these by yourself, edited them all on your own, all in less than a week,” Younha turns to you, eyes wide, “Can’t you come and work with us?”
You laugh, genuine and loud, “The raw files were already beautiful untouched. Just touched up some lighting here and there.”
“Yeah, and who took those raw shots, hm? Who coordinated every single thing that resulted in those shots looking like that? You, that’s who,” Younha seems to realize who she’s talking to and she blushes before muttering something else you can’t hear, “Also, about Hana—”
Uh-oh. This can’t be good.
“—so she told me earlier if I can pick out the final photos with the client, right? And since you’re here,” Younha trails off and you still there is no way, no way that you’re going to sit hours dissecting each photo with Soyeon, worse if it’s Taehyung. You have your pride and you’ll cling to that even if it’s the last thing you do in this world.
No way in hell. “Hana’s on her way here, right? I think she can make it.”
Younha nods, a low hum before she answers, “She can. In two hours. Maybe. Not sure. Our client, however—” She tilts her head to the right. Towards the direction of Hana’s office. “—is here.”
It’s a sigh of defeat you let out. Walking away from here means you admit you’re a coward, walking in Hana’s office will mean you’re weak. See, it’s always a lose-lose thing for you everytime a certain Kim is involved. The very, and only, Kim who seems to be haunting every part of your daily life the past five days. Or in this current case, a future Kim but a Kim nonetheless.
Younha smiles, the sly fox, when you place your bag back down on the table, “If I’m going to stay here for the night, might as well ask for coffee. Lots and lots of it.”
You only barely get the full sentence out but Younha is already on her heels with a mock salute.
You push the door to Hana’s office, making sure (twice) not to pull this time, and your eyes land on Kim Taehyung whose eyebrows rise in surprise upon seeing you. If he thinks you’re meaning to keep on meeting him like this, well, he’s wrong. The universe likes to spring surprises down your path of life and it just so happens that for now, Kim Taehyung might be its play thing — to torment you with, most probably.
He sits on the couch that rests against the white wall, beside the windows that occupy the whole one side of the room that overlooks the city. Hana’s office is more like her office and a miniature studio, exclusive for her and whoever she decides to let in here, separate from the lounge and the main studio. It’s an industrial loft, made modern and more suited to her taste and it’s just so goddamn bright in here, you realize.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you mutter as the door clicks shut behind you.
You head straight to Hana’s computer, turning it on and plugging the USB before you plop down on the office chair. “I had the photos with me and I dropped by to leave it for Hana but she apparently has things to attend to for the next two hours and you’re here already so, yeah.”
Taehyung only nods, silent and awkward when he stands.
You sigh, “Grab a chair and come here, I guess. We have, like, a thousand photos to sift through. See if you’d like any changes done to them. The earlier we finish, the better.”
Three hours pass after that and you’re left with no Hana in sight, 325 file numbers listed down, a faint headache and tired eyes, a hungry stomach, and three accidental brushes of Taehyung’s hair on your cheek because what before is a ruler-long distance between the two of you has been reduced to mere centimeters, and Jesus Christ, you don’t know who moved between the two of you that it has come to such. You’re firm to say it isn’t you because your ass remains frozen, stiff as a board everytime Taehyung does so much as inhale.
“Can you—” Taehyung clears his throat, pointing to the keyboard, “—move to the next one, please.”
You mutter an apology, pressing the right arrow and you see the photo move. Frankly, you aren’t paying attention. Not to anything, least of all the photos. It’ll be like knocking consciously on Hell’s door if you do pay attention.
Because you can take being around Taehyung, you can easily detach yourself from reality when you are — and not feel anything, to look at him alone and think of him as an ex-friend, an ex-lover without the rest of the titles attached. But to look at the photos, the pictures you took, there’s no detaching from that reality. The reality that the man you had feelings for — might still have feelings for, but you push that thought back — is getting married, of all things.
And you list this off as feeling weird, an ex marrying a cousin. You aren’t jealous, god, no. It’s just that — weird. Well, you think.
“Okay, I can’t take this anymore,” Taehyung breathes and you still, unmoving as the statue on the corner of the room, “I’m going to order Chinese. I’m not going to last the rest of these photos if I don’t eat. Anything you want?”
He might as well have slammed the mouse he’s holding with the way he casually lets it fall off from his hand to the table, leaning back on his chair and oh god, his head is leaning on the back of your chair. One move of your shoulder and the back of it will touch the side of his head. He has his phone over his head, elbows hanging in the air as he opens his phone with a click. He hums as he scrolls and this is so, so painfully domestic that you struggle to breathe.
It’s been push and pull the whole night. He asks, you answer, and never the other way.
Fifteen minutes that you’re plunged in deafening silence and you punch the air in your mind when Younha knocks, take-away bags at hand and a smile on her face.
Taehyung hands you your food, places the utensils in neat order, pokes the straw through your bubble tea and gently places it in front of you and you stare. You stare because never in your life did you ever think you and Taehyung would ever be in this situation. Toeing around each other, walking on eggshells.
There had been a time that silence wasn’t an option — it’s either you filled the quiet or he did; mouths off about Pokemon and stickers and dogs he met on a certain day, or silence filled with wordless communication through flesh and skin and heavy breaths.
Never this — a fragile silence that no words could ever fill. But of course, Taehyung knows how to break that. Break you when he speaks, “I think we’ll have this one framed for the reception.”
You blink at the photo on the monitor, big and taunting. In it, Taehyung smiles, a wide rectangle stretch of his mouth as his chin rests on top of Soyeon’s head, the latter leaning her weight on Taehyung. It’s evident, palpable even, the happiness that’s shared between them. A running joke between the two of them captured on a permanent photograph only they can understand.
“Yeah,” you nod, a smile, or an attempt at it, stretching your lips, “it’s beautiful. Definitely worthy for the reception. You can hang it in your home after.”
It’s an instinct – you’d like to believe so – when you feel Taehyung move beside you and you mindlessly mirror him, freezing the moment you take in the miniscule space that’s left as you both huddle to look at the monitor. A good couple inches you can count on one hand. And you refuse to move away because no, this is not at all affecting you. And it’s Taehyung, you justify, who’s currently invading your space.
The third mistake is when you try to steal a glance at the corner of your eye because you think he’s engrossed with the picture.
But then you see that he isn’t. Not when his stare locks with yours the moment your eyes move. Had been on you all this time.
The fourth is when he moves and you don’t.
Not when his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth to wipe whatever it is he sees there.
Not when he flashes you a smile – something so fond and warm and tender that renders you mute.
Not when he succumbs to sleep an hour later, head lolling on your shoulder.
But the entire world moves when he stirs and the overhead lights hit something golden. It crumbles and caves beneath your feet when a locket falls out of the top of his loosely buttoned shirt. An identical locket to the one that now sits heavy on your chest – once heavy with the broken promises, but now empty of the love that first came with it.
You see his forehead wrinkle as he slowly wakes and you feel the start of the burn that first settles on your chest before it moves and starts from the corners of your eyes. You train your eyes on the monitor, fingers clicking away on the mouse and the keyboard faster than ever.
“I’m sorry,” you hear him say. His head stays on your shoulder as he speaks. “What time is it?”
“Quarter before ten—”
“I missed you,” he breathes and you hear him let out a soft laugh before he whispers, “I always miss you.”
It feels as if all the air in your lungs has been knocked out and you turn to speak when you see that he’s fallen back asleep. And god, you wanted to shout at him, let out the years of pent up frustration and grudge you’ve had all these past years and ask all the unanswered whys and hows. But looking at him now, after so, so long, you realize you do too.
A tear drops and a multitude of realizations follow.
You missed him. You missed him. You miss him.
And fuck, you’re still in love with him, you realize. So much and enough to make you not think of the consequences of the realization that you do.
Not when his fiancée finally comes and places a chaste kiss on his lips.
Not when a wedding invitation lands itself on the desk towards you.
And especially not when the ghost of him lingers when they’re gone and you find yourself praying for it to stay just a little bit longer.
You did not plan for your Friday night to be like this at all.
The initial – and final – plan was this: show up to the club your sister wanted you to show up to, make it look like you’re genuinely happy to be there, flee the moment midnight hits when your sister and her friends are too drunk to realize you aren’t there anymore, and sleep away in the solace your tranquil and quiet apartment offers.
The night and plan had been going well, much to your delight.
Just until the fleeing part, that is. Because the moment you press the unlock button to your car half past one in the morning, you see a very drunk Kim Taehyung eagle spread on the hood of your car, with only a rumpled halfway-buttoned shirt that’s tucked into his pants, one of his shoes already on the roof of the Mercedes.
And so instead of proceeding to the sleeping part of your plan, here you are now, struggling under the weight of Taehyung as you try to push in all his limbs in the passenger seat because he refuses to go away. Why, of all people, must you be the one to find him like this? Other people would’ve paid no mind leaving him on the pavement but of course, the universe had to make sure it just had to be you because old, cruel fate had it out for you and your demise.
Two weeks spent in isolation from the rest of the world in an attempt to justify and get over the realization you had of still being in love with an ex and the world just dumps him in the hood of your car of all cars.
“Kim Taehyung, I am not above violence, I will fucking knock you out if I have to if you step your foot out and kick me once more, for the love of god,” you heave, “Are you with Jimin?”
At this, he grins and nods, eyes half-closed, “Jimin went home. I think. Or wait, maybe he’s passed out in Yoongi’s tub. I think. I don’t know, do you think he’s still here? Wait, do you know Jimin? How do you know Jimin?”
You sigh, “Give me your phone. I’ll get Soyeon to pick your ass up.”
Taehyung lets out a loud gasp, proceeds to choke on air before he looks up at you, “How do you know my girlfriend?”
You pause for a second before rolling your eyes, “Phone.”
“It’s in my left pocket, can you get it for me? I’m so tired,” he whines, wincing as his head lands on the head rest. You reach over to pull his phone out, only to retrieve a pack of cigarettes but no phone. You freeze when his hand grips your wrist that’s still in his pocket, feeling your heartbeat in your ears when he leans forward, so close that you feel his breath on your cheek, “Butt pocket, sorry.”
You take a deep breath as he continues to look at you with a grin. You move closer, angling your head away because you would be fucking cheek-to-cheek if you don’t and you pause just before you touch his back pocket, “No, you know what, you can get it yourself. Either that or I leave you out here on the streets.”
Taehyung pouts but he moves his arm behind him nonetheless, proceeds to feel his other pocket when he finds the first one empty.
“My phone’s gone,” he huffs, “Oh! It’s in Minnie’s car!”
You let out a loud groan, rounding the car to open the driver’s side to look for your bag so you could use your phone and you let out another sound of frustration, louder this time, when you remember the picture of a beige bag being left underneath your couch’s pillow. You look over at Taehyung, a war in your head as to what to do with him, before you finally settle on the choice that you never, ever think you would’ve made.
“Fine,” you grit as you turn the engine on, “I’m going to drop you off your house but I’m not gonna be held accountable for the reasons you’re going to have to explain to your girlfriend if she greets your drunk ass as to why the fuck her cousin’s dropping her fiance off, alright? Now, are you still staying in the same apartment ‘cause I’m going to drop you–”
Taehyung snores, body folding in on himself as he slightly shivers. You sigh, dropping your forehead on the steering wheel, enough to hurt and make the horn whine, “This is fucking unbelievable. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Hey, Taehyung,” you shake him, poking his shoulders the way you know he hates, “Wake up and tell me your address, asshole. I’m not driving to the other side of the city only to find out you changed address. Hey.”
He makes the tiniest wave of his arm before he goes back to sleep.
You glance at the clock that says it’s now nearing three in the morning and you run your hands over your face because fuck this.
Now, you head to your apartment with the plan of just dumping Taehyung in the foyer and letting him sleep there until he has his mind back in the morning – you figure he’d probably run off the minute he wakes up.
“Hey, wake up.” You nudge him when you arrive and you sigh once more as he merely stirs, opening his side of the door before attempting to move out of the car only to heave when the seatbelt he still has on pulls him back.
With a grimace, you round to his side and lug one of his arms around your shoulders and basically carry all of his weight towards the elevator. You give a tight smile to the staff at the reception as you pass by, dismissing the offer of help. You nearly drop to your knees as soon as the elevator doors close, exhaustion flooding you all of a sudden.
As soon as the door opens to the penthouse, you remove your hold on Taehyung and he slumps against the wall. You let out a breath before pushing him to one of the guest rooms where he immediately plops down on the bed after knocking his shoes off. A small smile plants itself on your face and you reach over to pull the covers over him.
Kneeling down on the floor beside the bed, you brush off the loose hairs that cover his face and you whisper, “You’re making it so hard for me.”
Deciding that you’ve helped him enough, you head to your room to change and shower – a long bout of internal battle against yourself as you try to wash off all that happened.
It is an hour later when you’re already in your bed, tossing and turning that you find yourself a long way from sleep, and so you push the covers off of you to head towards the kitchen to find something to drink. The sun is starting to rise, you see, as you stare at the large windows, uneasy at the thought that Taehyung is there. Here.
And you know you shouldn’t care anymore. You’ve done enough and beyond to help him, you remind yourself. But that doesn’t matter, really, because here you are, pushing the guest room open to check on him, a bottle of water in hand. He remains as he was the second he got here and you sigh as you pull one of Jungkook’s shirt and sweatpants from the cabinet, a spare he leaves in the case he unintentionally sleeps over, and you walk towards Taehyung before slowly shaking him awake.
“Hey,” you speak softly as his eyes crack open, mind still swimming in alcohol, “you should change into this. Your clothes must be uncomfortable to sleep in. Here’s some water too.”
His eyes open a little bit wider, voice hoarse when he speaks, “(Y/N)?”
You swallow, “Yeah, it’s me.”
“I can’t remember most of tonight, how did I—”
You smile, “And you probably won’t remember all of this when you sleep once more. Just change and drink this, Taehyung.”
A part of why you’re doing all the things you’re doing is the fact that you know he will forget this.
He sits up, swaying as he does so, twisting the water open. You greet him good night, and just as you turn to head back to sleep, his hand dart out to grip your wrist – as tight as the grip that has your heart beating so loud in your chest as he does, “I’m sorry.”
Without turning around, you answer, “You don’t have to be. I would’ve done the same for anyone else.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
Pressing your tongue against your cheek, you rip your arm away from his hold, now turning around to face him. He slowly stands, eyes trained on you. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, “I’m not saying sorry just because of tonight,” he speaks quietly, “This is an apology that’s long overdue. An apology I never had the courage to give you. An apology that I owe you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the coward that walked away without an explanation. For not being the person I promised you I would be.”
“I told you,” you say through gritted teeth, “You don’t owe me an apology, Taehyung. It’s over and done with. Apologizing to me would mean that there’s still loose ends between us, and I’m telling you that there’s none. You may have burnt those ends the moment you walked away and I have burned mine in the years that followed. You don’t owe me anything.”
He’s closer now, so close that you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol and his perfume. “Then why are you still wearing this?”
You feel all the walls come down, then, when his fingers trace the golden chain of the locket. The once emblem of young and promised love, of an oath, of Kim Taehyung. The necklace that never was once removed from you since then.
You chuckle, bitter and harsh, “You’re still wearing it too, Kim.”
You flinch as you feel the pad of his thumb wipe away at the trail of tears that has somehow escaped, “Leaving you was the only choice I had then. It killed me to walk right out of that fucking door but it was the only choice. For you, for me, for us. Even if it meant me becoming the asshole, it was the only choice.”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit, you left me. And in my vocabulary and everyone else’s, leaving the person you claim to love without a single explanation is a shit move,” you nearly damn snarled, “I could’ve accepted you telling me you didn’t love me anymore but you fucking walked out without a single word. Well, I guess it worked out great for you, huh? You’re getting married now.”
“I did l—”
“Don’t fucking dare say it,” you sob, feeling all the energy draining out of you in a second, “You’re four years too late, Taehyung.”
The chains that hold all the hurt and grievance of the past four years had been unlocked and with the thought of Taehyung not being able to remember this tomorrow, you let it all out.
“I lied,” you whisper, lips and chest shaking as you breathe, “It hurts me seeing you now. So fucking much. Because you never wanted to get married. I remember when we were together you said that we could live without the titles, the labels, and the technicalities of it all, because you’d love me the same. So yes, it hurts. I can’t deny that it does when the things you didn’t want with me, things I wanted to have with you, you learned to want with someone else. Shit like this hurts because even if I was okay without all the titles, I thought then that spending a lifetime with you wouldn’t be so bad. But you made it seem like you never wanted marriage, not with anyone ever and so I accepted it, content even with just being with you.”
“But then you show up like this,” you say so quietly you don’t know if he can hear it, “You can’t expect it not to hurt, Tae, because it does. So, so much.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung lightly rests his forehead on yours, “I’m so sorry.”
“Answer me this one question,” you look up at him, “Please.”
You feel him nod, “Anything.”
You feel it again, the suffocating claws that grips around your chest, the pain of unanswered questions and doubts, “Was my love not enough for you?”
You feel it before you hear it, when he nods against your head, hands coming up to hold your cheeks, “No, no, god, no. It was more than enough. It was so much more than enough that you became someone who didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t reciprocate the amount of love you were giving me. I’m sorry.”
“I miss you, Tae.” You whisper, and you can barely see him through the tears, “And it’s so, so wrong and I shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, I do. Four years and I still miss you and now you’re here, back in my life, and yet you’re still the farthest you’ve ever been from me.”
Maybe it’s the realization that he is – so far away from you and will never be close enough anymore – that you think maybe this is the long-awaited end. The closure you’ve once longed for but never had. Maybe there really was no reason for him leaving you beyond the fact that he didn’t love you anymore – and maybe that was enough reason. You just didn’t want to accept that fact. Maybe it’s time that you do.
After Taehyung, you’ve become someone who believed that love is something that’s easy to let go, when in fact, all this time, it is the love you had for Taehyung you’ve never let go of. And maybe, it was never love for the people that came after him and so it became easy for you once it’s over, once it ended. Because what has started that really counted has never reached its end, for you anyway. Because it will never be the same.
Because they weren’t Kim Taehyung.
“Don’t cry for me. I don’t deserve it,” he smiles a small smile as he wipes a tear away.
���Then stop making me cry, asshole,” you softly retort, hands coming up to wrap around his own to pull them away from your face. You can’t think straight when he has his hands on you, “I’m not asking for you to love me again, not anymore. Maybe we could be friends?”
It’s a weak attempt at humor, you know. And you really don’t think you can be just friends with Taehyung. But you’re weak for Kim Taehyung and you’re still so fucking in love him that you’d settle for whatever there can be between the two of you. He doesn’t need to know the specifics.
“Can we, really?” He laughs softly, a sad smile appearing, “I’m about to do something very stupid, for the very last time, so please, stop me if you don’t want to because I don’t think I can stop myself.”
He leans forward as the inches between you decrease down to a zero, his lips pressing against your cheek, your forehead, your eyelid, and to the corner of your mouth before he pulls away. “No, you had something to drink too, I’m drunk, you’re drunk. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, ” Taehyung breathes against your cheek, eyes shut tight.
“I’m not.”
Whether that’s an answer that refutes your state of intoxication or a statement that debunks Taehyung’s apology, you don’t know. Because the next moment finds you pulling him forward, arms snaking around his shoulders as you kiss him. Soft and unhurried and sad – a declaration of what had remained unsaid for the past years.
The last time, you swear, and from tomorrow then on, you’re going to be friends. This night will be void – forgotten and discarded. Taehyung is going to continue with his life and you with yours.
It’s so easy to become so lost in Taehyung that you forget the rest of the world.
That you don’t hear the sound of the door opening.
Or the second set of drunk footsteps that follows the first one.
“What in the fuck is going on here?”
#bts#bts fiction#kimtaehyung#kim taehyung#taehyung fanfiction#taehyung fanfic#taehyung smut#kth fanfic#kim taehyung angst#angst#bts angst#taehyung angst au#taehyung fic#bts x reader#taehyung x reader#taehyung#taehyung imagines#bts taehyung#taehyung angst#bts v#kingminie#until forever falls apart
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drunken facetime - jjk
summary: your boyfriend drunkenly says something embarrassing to you in front of your mom || warnings: jungkook is drunk || genre: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, angst, comfort || word count: approximately 800
I sat in the car with my mom, the both of us had just finished having dinner together, and she was currently driving us back home, where my boyfriend, Jungkook, was waiting.
She was busy talking to me about work when my phone started vibrating in my lap. I looked down at it and checked it, seeing that Jungkook was Facetiming me.
"It's Jungkook." I told her. She knew Jungkook, considering I've been dating him for a few years at this point and the fact that I've lived with him for a while as well.
"Answer him." My mom told me, wanting to say hello. And so I accepted the Facetime, not thinking much of it.
When I answered the call, I could see that Jungkook was in the living room, his hair was a bit messy and his face was a little red.
"Hi, baby." Jungkook said, and I could tell that he was drunk as his voice was a little slurred.
"Hey. What's up?" I asked with a smile as I looked at my phone.
"I just wanted to check in on my baby." Jungkook told me and I couldn't help but blush a bit at his words.
"I'm having a good time. My mom's driving me home right now." I told my boyfriend. I then moved my phone so that Jungkook could see my mom and my mom waved at him.
"Hey, Jungkook." My mom greeted him.
"Hey, (your mom's name)." Jungkook said back sweetly. "How are you?" He asked.
"I'm good. How are you?" My mom responded.
"Good. Thank you." Jungkook said and I turned the phone to face me again.
"I'll be there soon." I told him.
"Good, when you get home I'm going to make love to you so good, you-" Jungkook started saying, whispered, but still loud enough for both my mom and I to hear.
I gasped as I heard what he said, "Jungkook!" I said, shocked as I avoided looking over at my mother.
"What?" He asked, really not seeing the problem with what he did in the moment.
"I- I'm hanging up." Is all I said before I hung up the Facetime.
I looked over at my mom awkwardly as she just laughed. Oh my god. I couldn't believe him.
<3
I walked into the apartment and took my shoes off, still feeling immensely embarrassed. I walked down the hallway and into our bedroom as I changed out of my clothes and into some pajamas. As I was putting my shirt on, my back facing the door, Jungkook walked inside the room, and quietly walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.
I was upset with him so I pushed him off of me and stepped away, putting my shirt on all of the way. I then turned to face him.
"What's wrong, baby?" Jungkook asked. "Why'd you hang up on me so fast?" He then asked.
"What's wrong?" I repeated. "I'm so embarrassed." I told him. "You talked about making love to me and my mom heard you!" I complained.
"She did?" Jungkook asked.
"Obviously." I said as I walked past him and out of the room, sitting down on the couch next to Bam as I started petting him.
Jungkook followed after me, sitting next to me on the couch. "I'm sorry, baby." I pouted as I looked down at Bam who was now laying his head on my lap. "I would never embarrass you on purpose, especially in front of your mom." Jungkook said as he put his hand in mine, squeezing it gently.
When he said that, no matter how upset I was, I knew that he meant it. He always did everything to protect me from everything really, but embarrassment too, even when he was drunk so I knew he wasn't lying when he said that.
"I know.." I said as I looked over at him.
"Do you forgive me?" Jungkook asked.
I gave him a pouted look, making him smile a little, before I nodded. Bam hoped off of the couch, going to drink from his water bowl, and as soon as he did so, Jungkook gently pushed me so that I was laying down on the couch, before he got on top of me and started kissing me all over my face.
I giggled as he did so, his hair tickling me. Jungkook then pulled away for a moment, looking down at me. "I love you so much." Jungkook told me.
"I love you too." I said with a smile as I looked up at him, holding onto his biceps.
He smiled down at me before leaning down and kissing me. You forgave him but were the both of you definitely going to be embarrassed the next time you saw your mother? For sure.
-- link to my masterlist
#luciathcv#bts#bts x reader#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#jungkook imagine#kpop#romance#established relationship#fluff#angst#suggestive#comfort
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peek-a-boo! - j.jk.
genre: fluff, very mild angst and suggestive content (mentions of sex) (4.8k)
summary: at a camp that you hated, you find yourself falling for a man that tries to sneak into your tent.
masterlist
you shivered as you returned to your tent, you could not believe how you ever let your snake of a best friend, faye drag you into camping. everything was wet and cold and your skin was starting to itch beneath the layers of clothes you had adorned.
and you know how spoiled you might sound to another person, but you couldn’t help it, you missed your aroma candles, your fluffy slippers, your nighttime skincare routine, your fluffy sheets, your lam-
okay, you missed everything back home.
thankfully, you would leave this horrid place right in the morning and you swore to yourself to never listen to your best friend ever again, you might just kill her when you go back.
as you reached your tent, you dreamed of your room and your comfort back home but your steps slowed as you got closer.
was this your tent?
you looked around and sure enough, all of the tents were exactly the same in pattern and color, the only difference was the number propped on each tent.
39? 24? 46?
since when were there so many tents here?
why were so many people voluntarily torturing themselves?
all of the numbers sounded like it could be your tent and panic started to rise in you as your eyes darted pathetically towards each tent. this couldn’t be right, how could you not remember your own fucking tent?
deep breath.
“faye!” you whisper-yelled into the night, your hands shaking by your side and crickets answered, “FAYE!” you walked around all the tents, trying to find your tent and your friend, who apparently didn’t give a fuck about where you went.
you huffed after calling her name out for the 100th time and bent down on your knees, you were going to die before you got to go home.
then, like a halo light descending on you, you saw the number 54, and out of all the numbers you saw so far, that seemed the most right to you so, without caring or fact-checking, you ran to it at full speed.
as soon as you reached it, you zipped down the entry and looked around for your belongings and sure enough, your charger, your heat pack, and your phone were lying inside and you felt a rush of relief flood in you.
you smiled, thinking how silly you had been when you got lost, and happily set the alarm for the next day, snuggling into your very uncomfortable sleeping bag and kicking around until you fell asleep.
you never noticed that a very important part of your tent was missing.
your best friend.
-
a shuffle stirred you in your sleep, and your sleeping bag shifted with you as you moved, there was something in the tent that was keeping you away from your dreams and you groaned in frustration as you kicked your feet around in the bag to adjust again.
“woah, woah!” you heard someone exclaim as they grabbed your foot and you could feel your sleep slip quickly at the sound of a voice you didn’t recognize and the grip on your skin. you jolted awake, sat up, and came face-to-face with some man.
you did the smartest thing you could.
you screamed.
and screamed.
and kicked your legs forward with all the strength in your body.
you heard him groan in pain as he fell back away from the tent, you crawled forward to get out of the tent and run away and possibly kill faye.
“please calm down, let me explain” he breathed out while clutching his stomach, “why should i listen to you? you just tried to crawl into my tent in the middle of the night, you pervert!” you whisper-yelled at him, punching his arm as you got out of the tent and into the cold night.
you almost dropped dead at the wind that breezed past you, freezing your every bone.
“your friend faye told me to come here!” he protested, rubbing his arm and wincing while sitting up and at the mention of your friend’s name, you pause the plan of running away.
did no one in this camp care for each other, how could they all sleep through this?
the reality of the safety precautions here was enough to send another chill down your spine.
“before you explain, tell me what faye looks like” you needed to know if he didn’t just say her name after seeing it in a logbook or something, “light brown hair, blue eyes, and tall” he recalled off the top of his head, desperate to keep you from beating him up again.
the description was right but it still made no sense that he was here on her command.
“why the fuck would she tell you to come to our tent? wait! where even is she?” you frantically looked around, you didn’t want the last memory of your friend being wanting to kill her.
“you didn’t notice till now?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, clearly judging that you slept while your friend still hadn’t come back.
and you knew what that must tell about your character but in your defense, you were too busy dreaming of getting out of here.
“you don’t get to judge, you still haven’t told me why you are in a tent where a girl was sleeping” you pointed a finger at him accusingly and he rolled his eyes as he got up.
he held his hand out, “my name is jungkook, my friend and your friend somehow hit it off, they went skinny-dipping apparently and now they’re in my tent, doing things i would rather not discuss with a stranger, they sent me off here when i came back and that’s all there is.”
you stared at his hand, heat pooling in your cheeks.
that did sound exactly like something faye would do.
you just kicked the shit out of an innocent man.
you wanted to jump in a lake and never float back up. you hesitantly shook his hand, mumbling your name and hiding your face behind your hair. jungkook stares with mild annoyance as his arm stays wrapped around his stomach. though he has to admit, your strength was something to admire, jungkook wasn’t an easy man to hurt with a few kicks but he’s sure you have given him bruises.
“can we please get in and get some sleep?” he yawned, stretching his body and waiting for your response, you only glared at him. “are you crazy? i’m not getting into a tent with you, i don’t care that faye sent you here, there’s no way in hell that i am getting in there with you.”
jungkook blinked at you.
he waited for a beat, two beats, and then got into the tent, zipping it shut as he went.
you stared with your jaw at the floor at how he had just hijacked your only sleeping arrangement. you could hear him groan and stretch before his snores replaced the silence around you.
you scoffed in incredulity, he couldn’t be serious, faye couldn’t be serious, this entire night had to have been some wild dream you were having because you couldn’t wrap your head around how everything was going wrong.
well, you could stay right where you stood.
you didn’t mind that the night was chilling your bones, or your lips were fully chapped, or your teeth clattering or your arms shivering, it was all fine, you didn’t need to stay in some tent with some strange man, you could just spend one night out in the freezing cold.
maybe if you just relaxed and pretended to be carefree like faye for a few hours, you could manage with this.
you wrapped your arms around yourself and sat down on the chair outside your tent, folding your body to generate some warmth in you but you couldn’t ignore the prickling on your skin.
why weren’t you cool like faye?
she would’ve gotten into the tent and fallen asleep by now, maybe even make the strange man her friend, maybe have conversations into the night and here you were, being as uptight as ever, on a chair that was killing your back.
“are you seriously going to be this stubborn?” you whipped your head to see jungkook poking his head out while rubbing his eyes, and you scoffed, looking away from him. you heard him groan in response and step out of the tent.
“okay, get up,” he said, you frowned at him as he stood in front of you with his arms crossed.
“what?”
“go in.” jungkook pointed to your tent, “i already told you-“ you started to argue again and he ran an exasperated hand across his face, “i’m not getting in again, you go in there alone.”
“then what about you?” faye hadn’t returned, it didn’t seem that she would until morning so, he didn’t have anywhere to go, jungkook looked at the chair you were sitting on, “i’ll take the chair.”
“you’re sure?”
“yeah, just go in.” as soon as you got up, he plopped down on the seat and you entered your tent, zipping it up, and sighed at the warmth surrounding you. you grabbed your sleeping bag and slipped it on your body, noticing a faint scent of cologne on it, you knew it was jungkook’s and you strangely liked it.
shaking your head, you settled into your bag and shut your eyes to finally catch some sleep.
but it never came, you tossed and turned and kicked and moved, but you couldn’t sleep.
a nagging feeling occupied your stomach at the thought of leaving someone in the cold outside, even if you didn’t particularly like him, even if he was a stranger, your heart tugged at you to be more understanding of your situation.
you weren’t at home, of course, you won’t be completely comfortable in a campsite, sacrifices have to be made, and it wasn’t jungkook’s fault that your friends were horny idiots.
before you knew it, you poked your head out to look for jungkook, only to find him exactly where you left him, but he was asleep already, his head kept lolling back and forth as his neck stretched forward and the nagging in you bled into guilt as you watched him frown in his sleep, clearly uncomfortable.
you got out, hissing at the wind, and stopped where jungkook was sitting, wondering how you could wake him up without touching him.
“jungkook!” you whisper-yelled, hoping that would be enough but he didn’t even stir, you rolled your eyes, “jungkook!” you yelled again but to no avail, he stayed uncomfortably asleep.
you reached out and poked his shoulder, but that also didn’t work and you were starting to get frustrated again, being nice and understanding was starting to look like a very stupid decision.
in your irritation, you grabbed his shoulders and shook him and that did the trick, his eyes blew wide open as he started to look around him in a hurry, his gaze landing on you and a frown quickly found its way on his face.
“what are you doing? is everything okay?” his eyes darted over your face as if trying to find something that upset you, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit shy as he stared at you, “get inside” you pointed to the tent and his frown got deeper.
“just get inside while i’m still being nice.” you saw his eyebrows rise at you as a slow smirk grew on his face, then he raised his hands in surrender and did an ‘after you’ motion, as soon as you got in, he followed and zipped the tent shut.
now that he was breathing right next to you, you knew that you were going to kill faye later.
-
you two sat across from each other, not saying a word but also not sleeping or doing anything else, just watching the other with cautious eyes and curious hearts.
in the small space, his breaths were loud, every shift in his body resonated and his cologne was wafting around you. you waited for him to speak, to do anything really except look at you.
“who’s your friend?” you asked, after silence stretched for too long, jungkook’s eyebrows raised in surprise but he answered, “mingyu, he’s insane,” he said with a chuckle and shake of his head.
a smile grows on your face as you notice his dimples for the first time, “so is faye, it must be nice to be them” you can’t help the bitter undertone your voice held.
“i’m assuming you’re the not-insane counterpart in your friendship.” he said and you nodded, “unfortunately or fortunately, i am.”
“unfortunately or fortunately, so am i.” he hummed with a cheeky smile and you rolled your eyes, a grin threatening to break across your face, “i find that hard to believe, jungkook.” you eyed the tattoos decorating his arm and the confident glint in his gaze, there was no way he was more like you than he was like mingyu or faye.
“if i was like mingyu, i would be off having fun and living in the moment of the night instead of trying to sleep anywhere i could.” jungkook scoffed and you noticed the bitter undertone in his voice too.
maybe he was more like you.
“does this happen often?”
“we live together so, all the time.”
your eyes widened as you exclaimed in excitement, “so do faye and i! i can’t remember how many times i’ve had to hear someone’s moans from behind the wall” jungkook started to laugh as your face grew more animated, the more you spoke.
as his laughter fades and a smile replaces, your body loses the caution and you sink into the pillow behind you.
suddenly, the man sitting across from you was all you wanted to talk to and about. a certain vulnerability settled in the air around you as silence stretched, but this time, there was no caution or wariness, there were only one million questions that you wanted to ask him.
“does it bother you, whenever this happens?” jungkook breaks the silence while leaning forward as if he was sharing a secret, even if it was the just two of you in here, and looking at the sincerity in his eyes, you wanted to tell him every buried truth in you, “i love her, i really do, with all my heart but i’m not like she is, i don’t have as much fun, i don’t go out as much, i’ve never been able to let loose or let myself go, i always feel like i’m missing out on all the fun that she is having.”
“i just wish i was more like her” you breathed out, feeling the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders, your gaze flickered to gauge jungkook’s reaction, maybe you had spoken too much and bored him, maybe he wasn’t like you at all, but jungkook nods with an understanding that fills you with relief.
“mingyu became my friend in the first year of college when i didn’t know anyone else and he would constantly try to get me out of my shell, in my best interests of course but i wouldn’t budge, soon he accepted that i didn’t like the same things he did and stopped pushing me. but i still felt as if i was disappointing him by not doing the ‘fun’ things he was doing, even if that feeling wasn’t fair to me and even if i knew that he never thought of me like that.” you felt your eyes get teary as jungkook spilled his guts, the same way you had and you nodded at him as well, letting him know that you understood completely what he was feeling.
“i always feel like my life is passing me by, even here, i can’t wait to get out and go back to my home but look at her, she’s off having fun, not worrying about anything and she’s going to have these stories to tell forever.” you sniff as a boulder of new sadness places itself into your stomach and jungkook’s heart pinches in his chest at this.
not many things made you cry but the feeling of seeing your friends live life the way you wished to, always was a sensitive topic for you.
and jungkook doesn’t know much about you, he knows just enough to know that you were like him and he was like you.
“you have a story too, you know?” he smirked at you and you tilted your head at him in confusion, “you could always tell people how you beat up a guy when he tried to enter your tent,” you broke out in laughter and seeing the smile on your face, jungkook continues, “then how stubbornly you stayed in the cold night, had him send you back in but then go back out for him, it’s a hell of a story, if you ask me.” your laughter bubbled out of you without control, he wasn’t totally wrong, you did have a story.
“not as wild as faye’s but i guess it’s good enough” you nod in recognition, your smile refusing to budge from your face and jungkook leans back, satisfied that you aren’t as sad anymore.
“you could always tell people that you got beat up at a campsite, by a girl.” you quirked your eyebrow at him, amusement dancing on your skin and he mock gasps at you, “after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you treat me?”
“you didn’t do anything, you gave me my tent back, that doesn’t make you mother teresa” you enjoyed teasing jungkook as he shook his head, faux disappointment hanging his head down but you could see the ghost of a smile on his face.
he looked back up, eyes twinkling even if exhaustion clouded his face, and you had an idea, “hey jungkook, do you want to do something wild?”
-
jungkook’s hand tightly held yours as you two tip-toed across the campsite, barely holding back your giggles, trying to stay as quiet as you could, as if you weren’t yelling at each other an hour ago.
you reached his campsite, where your friends lay blissfully unaware of what was going around them, jungkook let go of your hand as he circled the tent carefully, and you tried not to pout about it.
then, you heard a moan, and your eyes snapped to jungkook, he was staring equally wide-eyed at you and both of you held your hands to your mouths to keep from bursting into laughter and ruining your plan.
guess your friends weren’t done getting busy.
jungkook came back to you, you wanted him to hold your hand, you swore you even saw his hand twitch in your direction but instead, he leans in to whisper, “this makes everything a million times easier.”
you agreed with eager eyes and you could see the excitement in his eyes too, which made this plan way better.
“you’ve got it?” he asked, leaning over as you pulled out your phone and wiggled your eyebrows at him, “just wait and watch.” he shook his head at you with a huge grin on his face.
you searched for the music box audio from the movie, the conjuring. faye had always been terrified of that movie, and as it turns out, so was mingyu.
“mingyu, wait, i hear some rustling outside” you heard faye speak from the inside, and sounds of them moving, “maybe just someone walking by.” mingyu seemed to try and reassure her but there was alarm in his voice too.
jungkook’s reached out for your hand and pulled you to bend near the side of the tent, you clicked the video, and the haunting, slow music filled the air around you, it was loud enough for the people in the tent to move quickly.
“what is that?” faye screeched and mingyu didn’t answer her this time, jungkook saw that your giggles were going to be out of control so he pressed his hand over your mouth and you nodded, gratefully to him.
you increased the volume of the song little by little and you heard screams from both of them as they got up in the tent and ran around in the little space, seemingly stumbling over each other and soon, the zip of the tent flew open and the pair rushed out, breathing heavily and thankfully, partially dressed.
they looked around in a rush, heads whipping in every direction and it didn’t take long for their eyes to zero in on you two crouching beside the tent, sheepish smiles on your face.
“jungkook?”
“it was you?”
they yelled at the same time as the fear in them dissolved into anger, their arms crossed across their chests, ready to pounce on you two.
jungkook tugged on your hand, leaning forward and speaking right into your ear, you resisted the chill down your back for entirely different reasons as he spoke, “run.”
he pulled you up and soon, you were running through the many, many tents around you, giggles disappearing into the night and hands refusing to loosen their grip on each other.
you peeked back to see your friends, not following you, both of them seemed to be endeared as they shook their heads and smiled at the pair of you. your friends, though different from you, knew the two of you and knew this wasn’t something you usually did so, it filled them with pride that you two seemed to have a good time, even if they were confused as to how it all started.
the wind kept freezing your face but you didn’t stop smiling, you didn’t want to tell jungkook that they weren’t chasing you, you wanted to run with him for as long as you could. you reached your tent soon enough and jungkook quickly unzipped it, grabbed your hand, and pulled you in, zipping it back up.
as soon as you two looked at each other, a new wave of laughter washed you two over as you heaved over, grabbing each other for support and laughing your lungs out, you couldn’t remember a time you had felt this happy and more importantly, you couldn’t remember a time you had felt this free.
“we missed them! the plan was genius, did you see their faces?” jungkook cheered, raising his hand for a high-five and with pursed lips, even if you knew there was nothing to miss, you slapped your hand against his.
you two leaned back on one side of the tent, catching your breaths with pure bliss on your faces. “i wouldn’t have done that without you.” he spoke up, running his thumb on the back of your hand, “i wouldn’t have even gotten the idea without you.” you admitted and a shy smile took over jungkook’s face as he looked away.
“now, you have two stories to tell.” he held up two fingers in front of your face and you pushed them away with a giggle, “i think i like the second one better,” you hummed back, jungkook quirked an eyebrow at you, “oh yeah, why?”
“it was fun” you shrugged, even if the actual words you wanted to say were much more than just fun.
because i was wild with you, i was free with you, i finally lived a moment for me, with you.
the words never came out of your mouth but you had a feeling that jungkook knew what you really felt, as he nodded at you, “i think I like this one better too,” he gave you a toothy grin, and this time, you were looking away with a blush rising on your cheeks because you knew what he meant as well.
of course, as all good things do, the night slowly started to lighten up and you could see jungkook’s face more clearly and he could see you more clearly.
he was beautiful and he looked at you as if he was seeing beauty for the first time.
but it was the last night and jungkook’s eyes flashed with recognition of that, you could feel your heart tightening in your chest when you saw his eyes turn down, knowing exactly what that meant. you couldn’t stop the night you loved from becoming the morning you dreaded and that knowledge lay heavily between you two.
-
somewhere in the dawn of the morning, your eyes fluttered open to see faye lying next to you, blissfully asleep, you assumed she must have come back at some point of the night after you slept, you couldn’t help the disappointment that washed you over.
you put your arm on your friend, who stirred but pulled you closer, you buried your head in her shoulder and thought back at the man who should’ve been there.
-
the buses lined up in front of you, all of them waiting for people to board so, you could all finally leave the campsite and go back to your homes, you should have been ecstatic to return home, to your comfort but your heart tugged on you to find jungkook.
but what if he didn’t think of this as seriously as you had? what if it was just supposed to be last night only? what if he didn’t stay up all night, thinking of you, as you had of him?
“you know, i could just call mingyu and ask him where they are, right?” faye rubbed your shoulder with sympathetic eyes, ever your cheerleader, but you shook your head, you didn’t know what you would say even if you saw him. “let’s just go, it isn’t a big deal,” you pushed her to the door of the bus and she got in with a sigh.
you stepped forward to the bus, only to hear your name resonate through the area, you whipped your head around to see jungkook running towards you, telling you to wait up and your heart dropped to your stomach, in the best way possible.
with bated breath and a blooming heart full of hope, you watched as he reached you quickly, stopping only a step away from you.
“do you always like making things hard for me?” jungkook heaved on bent knees, calling back to how you never showed him mercy since the moment he stepped into your tent and you bit back a grin, “i guess, i do.”
he gave you a crooked smile, “you guess you do” he hummed, a teasing lilt to his voice, and your cheeks heated up again, and your hands started growing clammy at the sight of him.
he really had come back for you, you should’ve known because jungkook was just like you.
“you can’t just leave me like this, after the best night of my life.”
the best night of his life.
“what do you want me to do?” you challenged, jungkook smiled as he fished out his phone, “i want you to do one wild thing for me.”
“what is it?” you asked, breathless, with your heart beating in your ears.
“let me take you on a date.” he pushed his phone into your hands, sounding sure and confident as ever, but then you saw his hands, which were shaking, much like yours and you typed in your number, saving it as the ‘girl who kicked you’.
you handed his phone back to him, jungkook barked out a laugh, his head falling back as he saw the name you saved yourself with. then, as he calmed down, he stepped forward hesitantly, hands shaking again, he leaned towards you and planted one, gentle kiss on your cheek.
he stepped back with red cheeks and you hid your face behind your hair, your entire body lit up with that simple kiss and you had to stop yourself from making happy sounds.
the bus honked behind you, breaking the tender moment and you rushed forward to wrap your arms around jungkook and stepped back just as quickly. wordlessly, you waved him goodbye as you got on the bus with fire on your cheeks and you turned back just once, to see jungkook, standing there with the goofiest grin and one hand held up to wave back to you.
as you settled into your seat next to faye, you ignored her knowing smile while glancing out the window, your heart filled with the giddiness and excitement that you had always dreamed of.
you had two stories of your own to tell and even if it wasn’t much, you had something after all the years of just wishing for stories to tell.
you had a feeling that with jungkook, you would have many more.
and you knew that he was thinking just the same thing.
note: hello everyone, it's been long since i've published something and i apologize for that, i've been experiencing some writers block and this wasn't the story i wanted to publish but i couldn't finish my original fic the way i wanted to, so i wrote this, in hope that you will enjoy it and that it will help me with my block, i'm always grateful for every read and like, thank you ❤️
#bts#bts imagines#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenarios#jungkook smut#bts smut#jungkook fluff#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook one shot#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fic recs#bts jungkook#bts masterlist#namfinessed#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabbles#jungkook one shots
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BTS REACTION: "YOU ARE MY WORLD"
i'm not fluent in english, forgive me for any mistakes!
genre: fluff
photo credits: @koovias
KIM SEOKJIN
On a sunny spring morning, you and Jin decided to have a picnic in the city park. You packed a basket full of sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a bottle of wine, while your boyfriend chose a beautiful checkered blanket to spread out on the green grass.
Sitting in the shade of a large tree, you both enjoyed the pleasant weather and the tranquility of the park. The scent of flowers filled the air, creating a serene and romantic atmosphere around you.
As you reached for a slice of watermelon to savor, a wave of gratitude and love overflowed in your heart. You looked at Jin, whose dark eyes reflected the sunlight in a captivating way, compelling you to share your deepest feelings.
Jin, noticing the gentle expression on your face, smiled tenderly at you.
"What's on your mind, love?" he asked, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
You gently held his face between your hands, your eyes shining with tenderness and sincerity.
"Jin," you began, your voice soft with emotion, "when I'm with you, I feel like I'm holding my whole world."
Jin was momentarily stunned by your words, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of pure connection.
"(Y/N)…," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion, "you are my world."
You embraced warmly under the shade of the tree, sealing that special moment with a gentle kiss. There, in the midst of the park, amidst the idyllic scenery of nature, you both knew that you had found something truly special in each other.
MIN YOONGI
On a sunny spring Sunday, you and Yoongi decided to have a quiet and relaxed date at a charming café in the city. The place, known for its delicious brunches and cozy atmosphere, seemed like the perfect setting for a romantic morning.
You sat at an outdoor table, surrounded by pots of colorful flowers and the soft murmur of conversations around you. As you flipped through the menu filled with tempting options, you exchanged smiles and knowing looks, enjoying each other's company.
After placing your orders, you and your boyfriend continued to chat animatedly, sharing funny stories and plans for the future. The tempting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and dishes being prepared wafted through the air, creating an even cozier atmosphere.
Suddenly, in a moment of silence between you two, you gently cupped his face in your hands, holding it delicately. Your eyes sparkled with a mixture of tenderness and emotion.
"You know, Yoon…" you began, your voice soft and full of sincerity. "Sometimes, when I look at you, it feels like I'm looking at my world."
Yoongi was momentarily surprised by your words, but soon a smile spread across his face, reflecting the love and gratitude he felt for having you in his life.
"(Y/N), you are my world," he replied, his voice filled with affection. "And every moment by your side is a gift that I cherish more than anything."
Tears of happiness filled your eyes as you leaned forward, sealing the moment with a gentle and passionate kiss. There, in the midst of that quiet morning, you shared a moment of deep connection, further strengthening the special bond you shared.
JUNG HOSEOK
Você and Hoseok were a couple who appreciated the simple things in life. On a rainy Friday night, you decided to have a relaxing moment at home. You bought a delicious pepperoni pizza, put on your matching giraffe-print socks - an inside joke you had since your first date - and chose to watch the classic "Beauty and the Beast".
You snuggled on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, your feet warmed by the cozy socks. You rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer.
As the movie unfolded on the screen, you found yourself moved by the scenes of love and redemption between Belle and the Beast. You looked at Hoseok and saw in him your own prince charming, the one who loved you despite all your imperfections, the one who turned your life into a fairy tale every day.
In a particularly touching moment, when Belle tenderly held the Beast's face, you felt a wave of emotion sweep through your heart, turning Hoseok's face towards you, holding it with gentle hands.
"Do you know what I feel when I look at you like this?" you whispered, your eyes shining with love.
Hoseok smiled, looking at you tenderly. "What?" he asked, curious.
You lightly squeezed his cheeks with your hands, feeling the warmth of his familiar skin under your fingers. "I feel like I'm holding the world," you said, your voice full of sincerity. "You are my world, Hobi. And I'm so grateful to have you by my side."
Your words enveloped Hoseok in a comforting feeling of love and belonging. He held your hands on his cheeks, looking into your eyes with a deep expression of gratitude.
"You are my world too, (Y/N)," he replied, his voice soft and laden with emotion. "And I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world."
And there, in that intimate moment, eating pizza, wearing matching socks, and watching a classic movie, you and your boyfriend felt more united than ever.
KIM NAMJOON
On a starry night, you and Namjoon decided to have a special date at the city's planetarium. Both of you were passionate about the cosmos, and the idea of getting lost in the depths of outer space seemed like the perfect way to spend time together.
As you watched the constellations projected on the dome of the planetarium, you felt a wave of excitement wash over your heart. You looked at Namjoon, his face illuminated by the starlight, and smiled.
"Joon," you said softly, touching his face with your hands. "Do you know what I'm thinking?"
He looked at you, his eyes shining with curiosity. "What is it?"
"When I'm with you, I feel like I'm holding my world," you replied sincerely. "It's as if the entire universe is contained here, in this moment, in this place, in this shared instant between us."
Namjoon felt a shiver run down his spine. He had never heard such deep and beautiful words. He looked into your eyes and felt connected to something greater than yourselves.
"(Y/N)," he murmured, his voice full of tenderness, "you are my universe. You are everything I could ever wish for."
And in that moment, as they were enveloped by the magic of the planetarium, they knew that they were destined to explore together the mysteries of the cosmos and the infinite horizons of love.
PARK JIMIN
It was a rainy Saturday afternoon when you and Jimin decided to have a date at the local art gallery. The rain tapped gently against the windows, creating a cozy atmosphere within the space filled with artworks.
As you wandered through the different rooms, admiring paintings and sculptures, you were particularly fascinated by an abstract painting hanging on one wall. The vibrant colors and bold strokes seemed to leap off the canvas, evoking deep emotions and thoughts.
"Love, look at this," you said, gently pulling him by the hand towards the painting. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
Jimin observed the artwork for a moment, lost in his own interpretation of what lay before him. He then turned to you, ready to share his thoughts, when suddenly you gently cupped his face in your hands.
"What's wrong?" Jimin asked, surprised by the sudden gesture.
You looked into his eyes, your fingers caressing his skin softly. "You are my world, Jimin," you said softly. "Just like this painting is an expression of beauty and complexity, you are my own masterpiece. In every stroke, in every color, I see the depth of our love."
Jimin's eyes filled with tenderness as he absorbed your words. He felt his heart overflowing with love for this incredible woman before him.
"(Y/N)," he murmured, holding your hands tenderly. "You are my world too. You always have been and always will be."
And there, in that art gallery, under the soft light of the lamps, you exchanged a gaze full of love and understanding, knowing that even amidst a world full of chaos and uncertainty, you had found refuge in each other.
KIM TAEHYUNG
You and Taehyung walked hand in hand through the aquarium, immersed in the underwater spectacle unfolding before you. You were enchanted by the vibrant colors of the tropical fish, while your boyfriend watched with fascination the graceful dance of the shoals.
As you explored the different environments of the aquarium, you found yourselves in a corridor surrounded by huge glass panels revealing a fascinating underwater world. The light filtered by the water created an ethereal atmosphere, while fish of all shapes and sizes glided silently around.
You suddenly stopped and, with an adorable smile, cupped your boyfriend's face between your delicate hands. Your eyes sparkled with a mixture of admiration and tenderness.
"Tae," you said softly, "have you ever stopped to think that, in this moment, I'm holding my world?"
Taehyung was momentarily stunned by your words, but then he understood what you meant. He smiled, touched by the simplicity and beauty of what you had expressed. Holding your hands against his face, he replied, "Yes, love, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be than here, being your world."
You hugged each other, immersed in the magic of the moment, while the fish continued their tranquil dance around you, silent witnesses to a love that was blooming.
JEON JUNGKOOK
On a sunny late afternoon, you and Jungkook walked hand in hand through the amusement park, savoring every moment together. Laughter and lively conversations echoed around you as you marveled at the vibrant lights and thrilling rides.
You decided to head to the ferris wheel, an imposing structure that rose majestically against the sky tinged orange by the sunset. As you slowly ascended in the cabin, Jungkook's heart beat faster, not just from the height, but from the presence of the person he loved beside him.
When you reached the top, you turned to your boyfriend, your eyes shining with a mixture of emotions. You gently held his face in your hands and smiled, a smile that lit up your entire face.
"Kookie," you began, your voice soft and filled with tenderness, "sometimes I feel like I'm holding the world when I'm with you."
Jungkook felt a comforting warmth flood his chest. He never knew that a few words could be so powerful. He smiled back at you, feeling deeply connected.
"(Y/N)," he replied, his voice choked with emotion, "with you by my side, I feel like I can conquer the whole universe."
You embraced, lost in that magical moment at the top of the world, where time seemed suspended and worries faded away. The gentle wind caressed your faces as you reveled in the sweet sensation of love.
#bts#bts angst#bts fluff#bts smut#bts x reader#bts reactions#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts oneshot#bts scenarios#bts masterlist#bts ot7#jin#suga#jhope#rm#jimin#taehyung#jungkook
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kim namjoon my beloved
other members :
yoongi
hoseok
jungkook
taehyung
seokjin
jimin
#moodboard#aesthetic#kim namjoon#namjoon#bangtan rm#bts rapmon#rap monster#namjoon x reader#x reader#yoongi#hoseok#taehyung#jimin#Jungkook#seokjin#imagine#fluff#angst#suga#agustd
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