#taehyung ff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gukcnt · 1 month ago

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MY LOVE, UNTIL I RETURN ⭒ KTH

in which you and taehyung share an emotional final day, filled with desperate love and physical connection, as you prepare for the pain of his impending military enlistment.

pairing — dom!taehyung x sub!femreader

genre — established relationship, slice of life, military enlistment, long distance relationship, heartbreak, smut, fluff, lots of angst, sad ending

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, hard dom!taehyung, possessive!taehyung, emotional intimacy, grief, military enlistment anxiety, physical closeness, shyness and vulnerability, possessive tenderness, music and dancing, promises and vows, love confessions, lots of crying, post departure grief, separation anxiety, assurances of love, they love each other so much i can't, oral sex (f. receiving), eating out, cunnilingus, face riding, face sitting, cum swallowing, tongue fucking, clit stimulation, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, lots of breast play, he is obsessed with her tits, nipple play, nipple sucking and biting, rough sex, missionary position, doggy, riding, gentle lovemaking, emotional sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, against the wall sex, cum play, overstimulation, making out, hickies/marking, bruising and scratching, spanking, shower sex, morning sex, oral sex (m. receiving), cock palming, cock sucking, face fucking, hair fisting, cum swallowing, power dynamics, body worship, loving aftercare

wc — 11k

a/n — i literally shed tears while writing this aaaa, i miss tae so much y'all! 😭

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

The mourning was inevitable, the regular smell of air in your apartment filled with the musky smell of Taehyung's cologne.

A scent you were so used to that it felt like a part of your own skin.

The sunlight casts a soft glow over the couch where you sat, its cushions filled with years of shared moments.

Taehyung was beside you.

His presence as always providing you comfort, yet it was painful.

His broad shoulders, usually confident, now hunched forward showing the weight that he was carrying.

His dark hair slightly messy and falling over his eyes, framing his face in a way that makes him look both boyish and mature.

His deep brown eyes usually having a playful spark or intensity, were clouded today with grief.

And a desperation.

The sight of him like this—beautiful, broken, and yours—makes your chest ache painfully.

With a fierce love.

You’re curled up beside him, legs tucked beneath you as your body instinctively seeks his warmth.

You wore one of his oversized white shirts, it felt warm and cozy along with the smell of him that clings to the shirt.

Enveloping you.

Reminding you of his impending departure.

Your hands rested in your lap, fingers twisting nervously—a habit developed from anxiety that didn’t leave you since he told you about his military enlistment six days ago.

Your heart felt like it's trapped.

A reminder.

Of the clock ticking and each minute slipping from you until he leaves.

Taehyung's deep voice soon breaks the silence.

“My love.” he murmurs.

The endearment spilled out of his mouth for you, making your breath catch.

He reached for your hand, fingers warm and calloused from years of hard work, his roughness softening just for you.

His hand slowly starts tracing slow comforting circles over your knuckles, making your lips part.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” he says.

Voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“A week left and all I can think about is how I wanna memorize every inch of you,” he breathes.

“I wanna carry you with me, sweet girl, so I don’t forget what it feels like to be whole.”

His words felt like a knife to your chest and tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

Your cheeks warming beneath his attention as you finally lift your eyes to meet his, raw vulnerability in them.

Stealing your breath.

“tae…” you whisper.

Your voice trembles, biting your lower lip, trying to hold back the sob trying to escape.

He shifts closer, arm wrapping around your waist possessively.

The heat of his touch grounding you against the ache in your chest.

His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen.

“I know my baby”

Voice steady for you despite the storm you know he is facing by looking at his eyes.

Wanting to stay strong for you.

His lips brush your forehead, lingering there.

Branding himself into your skin.

“I’m terrified too. The thought of being with you... fuck—it's like losing a part of myself,” he says.

“But I’m here now, hmm? I’m gonna love you so much, so completely, you’ll feel me even when I’m gone.”

His words felt like a lifeline and you lean onto him, head resting against his chest.

The steady beat of his heart matching your own.

That lulled you to sleep several nights.

Just imagining how you will sleep without it once he was gone brings tears back to your eyes.

You whimper shakily, causing his arms to tighten around you and you breathe in his cologne, clean male scent.

Your fingers clutched shirt.

Desperately clinging to him.

۶ৎ

The week before his departure has been full of emotions.

All moments shared close together, barely giving you any relief.

Mornings were spent tangled in bed as Taehyung's lips traced your sensitive skin—your neck, shoulder.

Especially the sensitive spot behind your ear, him knowing it makes you arch into him.

His constant whispers of “I love yous” and “you’re mine” surrounding you permanently.

Afternoons spent with quiet walks in your backyard garden, relishing each other's presence.

His hands never leaving yours, fingers holding yours tightly

Afraid you’ll slip away.

He tried to make things normal, you could feel it. His laughter, so rich and deep, comforting you in ways you couldn’t explain.

Taking away the pain of separation that will happen eventually, even for a little bit.

He wouldn’t leave your side even while cooking, staying by your side all the time while you prepared all his favorite meals.

Knowing he was gonna miss them when he's gone.

Heartfelt conversations and teasings would end up with heated kisses against the counter, his body pressed against yours, hands roaming all over you with hunger.

Never leaving a chance to not touch you.

But the nights—oh god, the nights.

It unraveled both of you in a way, desperation controlling you both.

The nights were a mix of touches and need.

Bodies speaking louder than words.

Each kiss and touch felt like a promise, a plea and a goodbye that will break you both.

And yet no amount of memorizing felt enough.

Not when the time constantly taunted you both.

۶ৎ

Taehyung pulls you closer, now in bed, arms tightening around you until there’s no space left.

His lips finding yours, gentle and soft, tasting you, tongue tangles with yours, slow and exploring every corner of your mouth.

Consuming you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rested against yours, both your breaths ragged, eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter.

“My love,” he rasps.

“I need you to know something… for me, yeah? no matter where I am or how far apart we are, you're with me no matter what, always…”

“You’re in my very blood, my soul, and I’m gonna fight every day to come back to you, to hold you like this, and love you until we’re old and gray.”

His voice was gruff, laying his heart for you through his words.

“Do you hear me, hm, baby?”

His voice hitched, and you see his eyes glistening with tears.

A rare emotion, he hides so well.

He never cries.

But for you, he was a broken man.

You nod, throat too tight to speak, burying your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

“I love you, taehyung.”

You sob, voice muffled.

“I’ll wait for you. I'll always wait for you.”

He holds you for what felt like hours and hours, the world fading.

Only the two of you.

All that existed was him, you, and the raw love you both shared for each other.

The love that you guys will have when he needs to go for his enlistment.

But for now, you clinged to the moment, soaking his warmth and his loving words, meant for you only.

Because you knew… that soon…

It will be all you have left.

۶ৎ

It's the day before Taehyung's departure.

The sky itself was gloomy today, the threat of rain mirroring the environment in your home.

The ache in your chest.

You stir awake in bed, body feeling heavy with what's about to come, the loss you're gonna face.

Your half lidded eyes opened slightly, only to find Taehyung already gazing at you.

He’s propped on one elbow, bare torso and hard muscles, his eyes holding yours with several emotions—love, hunger, and a quiet fury.

Anger at the time slipping away.

You’re curled up against him, your legs tangling with his beneath the sheets, an usual act, hinting that the intimacy of such normality will be gone soon.

“Darling…”

His voice made your throat tighten.

His hand reaches up, fingers brushing your cheek, calloused finger tracing your features.

A shiver goes down your spine.

“I want today to be ours.” he growls.

You let out a quiet whimper, tears welling in your eyes, but you held them back for the sake of both of you.

Wanting to make the most of today.

His dark eyes stared straight into your soul, getting to know all your feelings without you telling them.

“taehyung,” you crooned

“I don’t know how to let you go. I'm so scared.”

The words spilling out uncontrollably, raw and heartbreaking as tears started streaming down your face.

Against your will.

He immediately pulls you into his arms, hard chest pressing against you, and he fists your hair, holding you to him.

His hand slides to the small of your back, the heat of his touch seeping through you.

“Baby,” he hums.

“I’m terrified too. But I'm here now.”

Lips brushed over your jawline.

“I love you, sweet girl… more than anything”

۶ৎ

The day starts with each moment in a midst of needing to be close, imprinting the other's presence into memory.

Breakfast was quiet in the kitchen.

Taehyung was standing at the stove, broad shoulders relaxed as he flips the pancakes with a practiced ease.

He’s shirtless, only wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, revealing his masculine beauty.

Making your legs clench unknowingly.

You sit at the table, hands wrapping around a hot cup of coffee Taehyung made for you earlier.

Taehyung soon turns, a plate of crispy pancakes in hand, flashing you a warm smile.

A boxy smile that was now tinged with sadness.

That he tried his best to hide.

“Eat for me, love.” he orders.

His commanding voice slipped out of him, unknowingly.

Whenever he needs to take care of you.

He sets the plate before you, and drizzled some chocolate syrup over the pancakes, knowing by heart you like them like that.

He leans down, pecking your lips, your chest heaving at his care.

“I wanna see you smile today.” he demands.

You try, but the smile feels fake, something he notices.

He always does.

His eyes softened, and he sits across from you, knees touching yours under the table, teasing you.

His thumb strokes your palm, the simple touch sent a warmth through you, eyes meeting his, biting your bottom lip to control your emotions.

“tae…”

His grip tightens on you, eyes darkening.

“You don’t have to be strong, darling.” he coos.

“Fall apart if you need to. You know I'll always be here. Ready to catch you… always.”

The words felt like a vow, and before you know it, a tear spills down your cheeks.

He leans across the table, kissing the tear away, and you gasp, clinging to him.

His actions making you ache more.

And you realize you’ll ache forever.

Until he returns.

۶ৎ

After breakfast, his need to be close to you becomes overwhelming, and Taehyung suggests a shower.

Voice laced with desire.

Taehyung stepping in first in the spacious shower, and the sight of him under the water steals your breath.

The water streaming down his body, almost tracing his muscles, droplets cling to him, causing an insistent pulse between your legs.

His wet hair pressed to his forehead, and his eyes met yours, longing and lust in them.

He motions at you with a single finger.

“Come here.” he exhales, sharply.

You step into the shower, heart racing and the water now falling over you as well, soaking your shirt.

Making it see through for your man.

The sensation felt too much.

He pulls you against him, hands clutching your hips.

The water falling over you both, a warmth that shuts out the world.

You forget about everything.

Except him.

“You’re so beautiful…” he hums.

Lips brushed against your ear, naked chest pressing against yours, and his warm baritone makes your stomach flutter, eyes getting dilated.

“I wanna you feel good.” he purrs.

You huff, gripping his naked chest, nails digging into his skin.

His rough hands slide under your shirt, lifting it slowly, taking his time and making you impatient.

His hands roamed all over your body, gripping you wherever he wanted, and he finally tossed the shirt aside

It landed on the floor.

Leaving you bare for him.

The sudden exposure makes you shy, a flush warming your cheeks as you look away. Even after years of your relationship with him, the shyness never really faded.

But his gaze was unwavering, filled with so much adoration and love.

Your insecurities were gone.

“tae…” you whisper.

“You make me feel so…so seen.”

The words were vulnerable, and he responds with a hungry kiss, lips insistent, all tongue and teeth, claiming your mouth.

Almost like a feral animal taking his place.

The intensity made your knees weak as you cling to him while he practically eats your mouth.

The taste of him—clean, with a hint of the chocolate syrup from breakfast—flooding your senses, and you moan uncontrollably in his mouth.

“Mmm, tae…”

He swallows all your sounds with his tongue, his hands find your breasts, weighing them in his hands, loving the weight of them.

He always bragged about how your tits were the perfect size for him.

Made for his hands specifically.

His thumbs brushed over your nipples, hardening them instantly under the touch, and the sensation was almost electric, a jolt of pleasure that goes straight to your pussy.

Your clit throbbing in need.

“Hah… oh, tae!”

You gasped, arching and pressing your breasts closer to him.

He groans lowly, thumbs connecting to your nipples, and he pinches your nipples lightly, rolling them between his fingers.

“Mhm, oh…oh…please—”

The combination of pain and pleasure made you pant.

“You’re always so sensitive… mm... I love it, baby.” he murmurs.

His lips brush against your collarbone while continuing to tease your nipples.

Water streamed over both of you, amplifying the sensation, the water acting like a slickness that leaves your mouth parted in ecstasy.

The water droplets slide down your skin, between your breasts, and Taehyung snarls at the sight.

Chasing the droplets with his tongue.

He finally decides to give you a bit of relief, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue flicking it in fast motions.

“Nghh, taehyung!” You cry out.

The wet heat of his mouth and tongue was almost overwhelming, your thighs trembled, pussy growing slick with arousal.

Your hands, desperate for him, slides down his body, tracing the hard planes of his chest and abs.

He exhales, humming his approval against your nipples, the vibrations have you trembling.

Your hand soon reaches for his cock, already hard and heavy against his thigh.

You wrap your hand around him, fingers barely meeting from his thickness, and you revel in his hardness.

His head fell back, the noises escaping unrestrained.

“Fuck my love,” he pants.

Hips bucking into your hand.

“You drive me crazy.”

You start stroking him slowly, your own chest heaving with shaky breaths, feeling the throb of him, water washing away the precum bedding out of him.

Your mouth waters with want.

Your clit pulsing in time with your strokes, an ache that you try to ignore by pressing your thighs together.

Seeking relief.

“You’re so hard…” you coo.

Your voice shy but laced with need and he growls, hands gripping your ass and pulling you flush against his chest.

Your bare tits pressing onto his hard chest, you let out a whimper.

“I want you,” he gruffs.

Eyes meeting yours burning with a love so intense, you struggle to breathe.

“My baby, I’m gonna miss this—miss you—every fucking second.”

The words a confession full of raw pain, and you feel your tears mingling with the water streaming down your body.

“I’m gonna wait for you… I swear.” you sob.

Your hand still working his cock, and your other arm wrapped around his neck, holding him close.

Your promise settled on his chest until he feels desperate again, tongue entering your mouth, biting and sucking your bottom lip.

All while he fucks your fist, hips bucking.

His hand fisted your hair, and you whine, letting him take whatever he wants from you.

Taehyung’s hands roam all over your body, every curve, every dip.

As if he's memorizing you.

Your slick now dripping on the floor, and with each brush of his finger, the ache seemed to increase, and it was almost painful.

You didn’t want teasing.

Not today.

Not when the time was running out so fast.

“tae, I need you.” you begged.

He nods, eyes darkening with a promise.

His own patience running out, not wanting to waste even a second with you.

“Not here, princess,” he rasps, gently.

“I want you in our bed, where I can take my time with you… wanna make every moment worth it.”

He turns off the shower, grabs a fluffy towel, wrapping you in it, hands gentle but possessive as he dries you off.

His lips brushing your skin with every moment, and you lean against the wall, lips parted.

Savoring his attention.

۶ৎ

Taehyung picks you up in bridal style, naked and you clutch his shoulder.

Your heart pounded with the adoration he stares at you with, he starts walking, reaching the bedroom, both your bodies still wet and dripping from the shower.

He gently lays you down on the bed, your heart racing as you look up at him.

He hovers above you, one hand propped beside your head, his presence and your need causing goosebumps all over your skin.

“My love,” he breathes.

“I wanna worship you today. Every inch of you—I want it all to be mine.”

Devotion in his words.

You swallow hard, shyness making your cheeks flush, but his gaze holds you to him.

Taking away your instinct to hide.

“taehyung,” you tremble.

“I’m yours.”

You declare, like always, his eyes softening before he presses his lips to yours once again.

The kiss starting slow, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger.

He deepened the kiss, making you let out needy noises on his mouth, his teeth scraping your lower lip, your fingers curling into the sheets as you arch into him.

“Mhhh, Tae…” you moan, softly.

He pulls back, breath hot, looking at you with dark eyes.

Eyes gazing all over your naked body, drinking you in, his stare felt like a physical touch.

“I could spend forever just kissing you, but I need more.”

You pant as he begins his descent downwards, lips trailing over your jaw to your sensitive neck, sucking gently.

A gasp left your mouth.

A faint hickey left on your skin.

The sensation was a delicious sting, your toe curling.

You felt exposed, still slightly wet breasts rising and falling with your quickened breaths, and a groan leaves his mouth.

His eyes taking you in.

“Perfect,” he rasps, in awe.

“Absolutely goddamn perfect for me.”

His hands cupped them just like he did moments before in the bathroom, but he doesn’t make you ache anymore.

He smirks wickedly, at your neediness.

A knowing curve on his lips.

Lowering his mouth to your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth, harshly, a lot rougher and hungrier.

“Oh, Taehyung!” you cry out.

Fingers tangled in his damp hair, tugging.

His teeth grazed your nipple, enough to make you gasp out, body shuddering with his attention to your breasts.

“Please… please!” Your breath shakes.

Hips shifting against the sheets.

“It feels so good.”

He moves to the other breast, grazing your nipple with his teeth while pinching the other neglected one.

You're a squirming mess for him.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, darkly.

Pulled away from your now overly sensitive breasts, from his torment.

“I love the noises you make for me, darling…”

His kisses trailed lower, slow and taking his time as he places kisses over the smooth skin on your stomach.

Lips lingering on your navel, tongue licking a stripe.

The ticklish feeling making you squeak.

And you let out a giggle despite the heat building inside you.

The sound draws a deep chuckle from him.

He glances up at you, eyes sparkling with love.

“I love that sound too,” he says.

Thumb brushing over your thigh.

“I’m gonna miss every part of you, love, every bit of your noises along with your happy ones.”

The reminder made your grin fade, the sadness taking over.

But it doesn’t last long.

His fingers start brushing against your folds, slow and teasing. He parts you gently to reveal your glistening pussy.

He uses the pads of his thumb, exposing you completely, baring the throbbing nub between your legs.

His fingers grazed your inner thighs, and you whine, slickness dropping more.

Shyness forgotten at the back of your mind from being so vulnerable in front of him, only needing relief.

You’re already too wet, pussy slick with arousal, clit needing his touch.

He paused, eyes fixing on you, and you gulp.

“Look at you,” he grunts.

“So wet for me already.”

His hand cupped your entire mound, fingers exploring your cunt, gathering your slick

“Tae… please.” you whimper.

Hips bucked towards him, seeking more.

He hums darkly, his gravel voice sending a shiver down your spine as he starts to circle your clit with his thumb.

Your hands fisting the sheets tightly, brows furrowing.

“So needy… just like a naughty girl,” he grits out.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I'm gonna give you everything you deserve.”

After all the teasing.

He finally presses his mouth to you.

The first touch of his tongue against your clit felt like a shock of pleasure, your hips lifted off the bed with a cry leaving your mouth.

“Hahh hah, tae—”

Your hands bunching the sheets around you, feeling dizzy with the wet heat of his tongue on your sensitive clit.

He starts sucking your clit, quickly and mercilessly, until you are shaking.

He hums against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you, and you're uttering nonsense right now.

Voice unrestrained.

“Oh God, taee.”

Your fingers griped his hair, hips tightly closing around his head but he holds you open with ease.

Your strength nothing compared to his.

He continues worshipping you with his mouth.

His tongue switched patterns, alternating from flat licks to your clit to occasional sucks that make your thighs tremble.

The obscene sounds filling the room—wet noises from his mouth, mixing with slick and his own soft groans, while tasting you.

“You taste so fucking good, I can eat this little pussy forever.” he growls.

Voice muffled in your pussy and you sob, hips rocking on his mouth instinctively.

His fingers soon join his tongue, sliding inside you with an ease and the sudden stretch has you letting out a scream.

Overwhelmed.

He curls them instantly, trying to find that spot inside you that makes you cry for him, his favorite music.

You start seeing stars behind your vision.

He thrusts his fingers in time with the movement of his tongue.

The dual sensation was too much

Too much all at once.

The wet heat of his tongue and his thick fingers fucking you in fast motions has you calling out his name constantly.

He groans against you like he’s the one being pleasured.

“Nghh, Tae, I’m fuck—I’m close.”

You quivered.

Thighs clamped tighter around his head, the pressure building in your stomach, ready to snap any moment

He doesn’t let up.

His tongue worked your clit, fingers thrusting faster, hitting that sweet spot every time, and it felt like torture to you.

A delicious torture.

“Come for me, princess,” he hisses.

Lips brushing your clit as he speaks.

“I want to feel you fall apart.”

The orgasm hits you, body convulsed, a broken scream leaving you.

“taehyung! oh god, taehyung!”

Your loud moans filling the room as your pussy clenches around his fingers, clit pulsing wildly against his tongue.

The sensation makes your body tremble uncontrollably, your grip on the sheets keeping you from falling apart.

He doesn’t stop.

His tongue gentle, still lapping at you, drawing out your pleasure until you’re letting out breathy sobs.

Oversensitive and breathless.

“It’s too much, please—”

You plead.

Hands tugging at his hair.

He finally pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your arousal, the sight made your pussy clench, despite your orgasm.

He crawls up your body, capturing your mouth in a possessive kiss.

The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan, gripping his hair once again.

A reminder of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

“I love you.” you whimper against his lips.

“Love you too… my baby.”

Forehead rested against yours.

You cling to him, body still trembling as you press a kiss on his sweaty chest.

Your heart close to bursting.

You lie there, his arms wrapped around you, breathless and spent, the sheets damp beneath you with your release.

A proof of how he unraveled you so easily.

Your eyes fell to the clock, and your nails dig into his chest.

No matter how much you try to forget about what's about to come and enjoy the moment.

It's not possible.

Taehyung senses it, pulling you tighter to him.

His lips brushed your ear.

“This is just the beginning. I'm gonna spend all day today showing you how much you mean to me.”

۶ৎ

In the afternoon, you both are in the living room.

The air filled with jazz playing, a romantic song creating an intimate atmosphere.

A music genre that Taehyung always loved.

You both were enjoying each other's presence after having lunch, every detail of the day felt heightened.

As if the world had slowed.

To savor these last hours with Taehyung.

The weight of what's gonna happen tomorrow still there.

But for now.

There's only him—his presence, his touch on your body and love for you.

You’re standing in the center of the living room, bare feet. Taehyung standing across from you, intense eyes locking with yours

Your breath catches and you look away, a shy grin tugging at your lips.

“My love,”

“Dance with me.”

The command was soft, cheeks flushing as you hesitate, fingers twisting your shirt nervously.

But he steps closer, taking your hand in his big calloused ones, holding your soft small ones.

Protectively.

He pulls you into his arms, hand settling on his chest, and his hand grabbed your waist.

The other hand guiding your hand to his shoulder.

You felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, looked up at him, your own heart pounding, and eyes glistening.

You sway together.

The music helped with the slow movement of his hips against yours, breath warm against your temple, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there.

You purred unknowingly, and you felt his smile without seeing it.

In that moment it felt like the world disappeared.

Only the two of you existing.

His hand slides lower, fingers laying across the small of your back, pressing you closer.

The moment innocent and romantic, but the hunger between you was palpable.

Wanting to feel each other all the time.

Before everything ends.

The friction of his pants against your bare thighs felt maddening, a tease that made your pussy pulse.

Even though he made you come just a few hours ago.

His hard cock pressed against you, and your breathing turns shaky.

“tae…”

Your eyes flickering up to meet his and the raw emotion there make your knees weak.

Love, desperation, hunger.

He doesn’t respond with words, only a low guttural hum left him, dipping his head to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

His lips soft yet demanding, wanting to take as much as he can from you.

It felt familiar.

In a way, you know where he does it when he's needy for you.

The taste of him, flooding your senses.

You melted into him.

Your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding into your mouth, exploring you, something that he has been doing the entire day, almost as if he wants to etch your taste in his memory.

Still, it makes your head spin.

His hands begin to roam, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other slipping beneath your shirt to caress your bare skin.

You gasp into his mouth, body arching towards him.

The dance forgotten.

Music faded in the background, both getting distracted by each other.

Once again.

“I can't get enough of you, baby.” he rasps, against your lips.

His words laced with an urgency that makes your heart pulse.

He pulls back enough to look at you.

“I need you. Right fucking now.”

Your breath hitched, restriction fading at the fire his words.

“Yea…”

The word was simple, but he hears the plea in it.

His lips curve into an almost predatory smile, and before you can process it, he’s moving with an urgency.

He presses you against the wall, the wall cool against your back, pressing himself against you, pinning you in place.

His hands are everywhere, tugging the shirt up and over your head in one quick motion, leaving you bare before him.

You didn’t bother to wear any bra and panties because he was busy taking your clothes off everywhere, at anytime.

And he always loved it when you remain bare for him.

The cool air raised goosebumps all over your body as he takes you in, never getting enough.

His hands start tracing the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist.

Always taking his time exploring.

“I wanna see all of you… my beautiful girl.”

You tremble, lips parting on a shaky breath.

His mouth later finds your breasts, sucking and biting the nipple to his liking, switching breasts faster than you can keep track of.

Supplying both of them with his attention.

Your back arched off the wall.

“Oohh, Tae”

His obsession with your breasts never ending.

“I can never get enough of these tits” he grunts.

Your knees get weak, when he finally pulls back, your nipples completely coated with his saliva, and you whimper at the sight of him.

So commanding.

So utterly devoted to you.

“I wanna taste you everywhere” he groans.

He was about to kneel before you on the floor, but you stop him, a sudden urge overtaking your shyness.

A need to give as much as you’re receiving.

“taehyung…” you breathe, determined.

“Let me… Let me please you, please.”

His eyes widen slightly, soon turning into a smirk. He straightens, hands resting on your hips and nods, eyes never leaving yours.

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

His voice thick with anticipation.

Now you are the one sinking to your knees before him on the floor.

Your hands tremble, reaching for his sweatpants, and you tug them down slowly, your breath catching as his cock springs free.

It's thick and heavy, tip glistening with precum, and the sight makes your mouth water.

Your pussy clenching.

You wrap your fingers around the base, marveling at the weight and it throbs for you, veins visible.

A low groan left Taehyung.

“Darling,” he exhales.

“Look at you, so eager for me.”

His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers fisting your hair.

Not pushing but guiding.

A gentle encouragement.

You leaned forward, lips brushing the tip, his salty taste filling your senses.

You moan softly, the sound vibrating against him, making him curse.

His grip on your hair tightened.

You finally take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head before you slide down taking him deeper.

The stretch was intense, tears welling in your eyes from the sheer size of him, the weight of him making you sputter as you try to breathe through your nose.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking gently, and he groans, hips twitching forward.

“That’s it,” he growls.

“Such a good girl. Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

You whine against him.

“Fuck, keep doing that”

You bobbed your head, setting a rhythm, hand working what you cannot take inside your mouth, making gagging noises, which encourages him further.

His pleasing noises make you squeeze your thighs together, tears spilling down your cheeks.

The taste of him grows stronger as he spills more precum on your tongue and you savor it hungrily.

Your other hand cup his heavy balls, fondling and massaging them, to your liking, and he hisses.

His hips start to move, fucking your mouth with quick thrusts.

Taking what he wants from you.

“Oh God, your mouth feels like heaven.” he rasps.

Voice filled with awe and desperation.

His words spur you on and you take him deeper into your mouth, trying to relax your throat in order to fight the urge to gag.

The way he fills you so completely.

Taking over you.

You don’t stop, driven by the need to make him feel as cherished as he makes you feel, how he always puts your needs before his, when he deserved to be pleasured as well.

He’s close, you can tell—his breathing turns heavy, thrusts erratic, cock twitching against your tongue.

“You’re gonna make me come,” he warns.

“You want it, baby? Want me to come in this pretty mouth of yours?”

You nod as best as you can, your needy noises expressing your request for him to let go.

Your mouth worked faster.

And he finally lets out a strained groan, spilling in your mouth, hips stuttering.

The taste was overwhelming.

You swallow every drop, some of his release dripping down your chin, but you lick them like a good girl.

Licking the excess fluid off his cock.

Cleaning every single drop.

Trembling above you as he comes down, fingers stroking your hair, his eyes half lidded and jaw clenched.

He pulls you to your feet immediately, kissing you hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Before you can deny him, his hands are on you again, lifting you effortlessly, legs wrapping around his waist and he presses you back against the wall.

Your chest heaved with your pants from his manhandling, the strength in his arms.

“I need to be inside you,” he growls.

“now.”

His cock hard again, or maybe it never softened.

It finds your cunt like a magnet, pressing against your slick folds like it's meant to be there and you whimper, core aching with need.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t make you wait.

Knowing time was running out.

He lines himself up to your slit, thrusting into you in one smooth motion, filling you up and you forget to breathe.

“Gahhh, shit! taehyung!”

The stretch burned, but the pain soon mixes with pleasure, your head falling back against the wall.

He groans at the feel of your cunt clenching around him, forehead falling against yours.

“You're so tight and warm, my love.” his voice breaks.

“so damn good”

He starts to move, thrusting deep, yet quick, each one hitting that spot inside you, making you tremble in his arms.

Your body losing strength to hold yourself up, only supported by his arms, knowing he won't ever let you fall.

Trusting him with everything.

His powerful hands supported you, anchoring you to him, fucking you with a desperation that matches your own.

You call out his name, voice high and broken, nails raking down his back, leaving red, burning scratches all over his skin.

The sound of you both going at it drowns out the jazz still playing in the background.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, his tongue exploring your mouth almost matching with the motion of his thrusts.

All your loud moans and whimpers swallowed by his mouth.

“Mhmm, ahnnn.” you gasp, on his mouth.

Your noises encouraging him further to fuck you stupid against the wall.

“You’re mine.”

His palm lands a sharp spank on your bouncing ass and you let out a startled scream, his hips snapping.

Harder and faster.

“Say it, baby. Tell me you're mine.”

His voice possessive and angry, but there's also a hint of vulnerability.

A need for reassurance, making your heart ache.

He was overthinking.

“I’m yours tae!” you chant, voice breaking.

“Always, always only yours”

The words pushed him over the edge, hands bruising your ass while he pounds you to his liking.

You bite his shoulder to ground yourself, pussy clenching around his cock constantly, as the pressure builds.

“Come on,” he commands.

“I wanna feel you come on my cock like a good slut.”

His hands slips between you, fingers finding your clit like an expert, rubbing tight, quick circles, and you see stars.

“Ah, oh, fuck, fuck—”

You felt dizzy, head swimming as the pleasure makes you shatter so fast.

“Gosh, taehyung!”

Voice raw, pussy pulsing around him, milking his cock as you come.

He follows moments later, letting out an animal growl, cock pulsing, and he finally spills inside you, filling you to the brim.

His release warm inside you, making you shudder against him, biting his chest needily.

“Damn it.” he pants.

His thrusts slow and gentle now, drawing out the aftershocks until you are squirming in his arms, tears brimming your eyes.

He holds there, pinned to the wall, cock softening inside you.

You both cling to each other, a tangled mess of sweaty bodies not caring about anything but each other.

The room quiet now except for both your ragged breaths, the jazz playing in the background and the romantic song matching both your current state.

“I will miss you,” he whispers, voice choked.

“I’m gonna miss you every day.”

You cling to him, face burying in his shoulder, a few tears leaving you.

“I love you, tae,” you whimper

“I promise.”

The weight of tomorrow presses, heavily.

But for now.

You hold each other, everything else forgotten, every fear in the back of your minds.

Love the only thing existing.

۶ৎ

The night felt endless, raw desire and pained love filling the bedroom with heat.

The air heavy with the scent of sweat and arousal, your shared smell, the sheets tangled messily, soaking with dampness, clinging to both of your skin.

The only sounds—creak of the bed, skin slapping against skin along with your pleased noises, and his rough breathings.

The clock ticked on the nightstand.

A devastation.

Counting down the hours until Taehyung was gone.

But in this moment, time felt like an enemy, each touch and moan felt like you both wanted to hold it against the coming separation.

Taehyung was possessed with wild feral need, a beast with relentless energy, on a mission to unravel you and test your limits.

His dark hair was a sweaty mess clinging to his forehead, eyes were feral with a mix of rage, hunger, and love.

His muscles flexed with every movement of his, unbeatable strength driving him further into ruining you.

His cock standing proudly, hard and leaking precum, thrashing despite using it several times now.

And the breath leaves your lungs, shocked at his crazed need to own you.

Never getting enough of you.

Your pussy clenched with a need that feels almost painful, core swollen from all it has endured, but the slickness dripping out of you said otherwise.

Wanting him for the last time before morning arrives.

And everything ends.

“Mhnmm,” he growls.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight, you’ll feel me for weeks… mm, you’ll feel me every time you sit or walk.”

Your stomach knots under his gaze, he looks at you all over, memorizing all your trembles and reactions completely.

The intensity makes you feel exposed yet treasured in a way that has your lips parted trying to breathe as much as you can.

You’re spread across the bed, skin flushed with slick and sweat. Your thighs slick with arousal, the cool air making your pussy throb with an ache.

Your cunt sensitive from hours of his touch, yet you crave more.

Always craving more.

Your breasts felt tender and way too painfully sensitive, nipples hardened from the night's earlier attentions, along with your swollen reddened lips from his relentless kisses and makeouts.

“Hnn tae,” you mewled.

“Take me, please…”

He doesn’t hesitate, movements quick, crawling over you and his lips crash against yours, tonguing your mouth.

His arousal clinged to your tongue as well, and all of it mixing together to make a lewd taste.

That has you both moaning.

Your hands clawed at his shoulders, nails scraping the already marked skin from earlier actions, making him hiss.

“This pussy is dripping for me, begging for my cock…”

“You’re gonna take my cock like a good naughty girl, hmm? Want me to fill you up, make you scream… yeah?”

His dirty words make you pant and you nod, breath hitching as he grips your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand.

The restraint has your body arch towards him, instinctively, body completely in control of him.

Turning you on further.

His fingers caress your soaked folds, parting them, sliding through your slickness, gathering them and teasing your slit.

You let out a whiny sigh, thighs parting further for him.

“tae… baby, please, I need you.”

The endearment for him rushes out of your mouth, a rare nickname for him that rarely slips out of you, due to your shyness.

And it makes him growl, satisfied, instantly rewarding you by plunging two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Hahh, gosh!” you moan.

He starts scissoring his fingers, stroking your spot and you are a mess, writhing against the bed, hips starting to rock against him at the motion of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh.”

You chant.

Your noises spilled out unconsciously, trying to quiet yourself as he works you open for him.

“That’s it, love”

Eyes fixed on your face, taking in all your reactions, making sure to go along with it, knowing exactly what you like, like the back of his hand.

“Don’t hold back, sweet girl,” he coaxes you.

“let everyone know how much you love my fingers in your tight little pussy… how it greedily sucks me in.”

His thumb finds your clit, circling it and your body jerks towards him.

His lips fall on your collarbone, leaving marks everywhere, sucking the marked skin from earlier, turning them purple.

Making sure the marks last you for weeks.

A reminder of him every time you look at a mirror, his love tattooed to your skin.

“taehyung, please… ohh, stop—stop teasing me! I need you—you inside me.”

You struggle to speak between your moans, voice breaking.

He groans, withdraws his fingers out of you with a wet squelch, bringing them to his mouth.

The sight of him licking your arousal off his fingers—eyes locked on yours, tongue slow as he savors each drop—makes you grind on his thigh, humping him like a bunny in heat, whimpers sputtering out of you.

Shame and shyness at the back of your mind.

Nothing makes sense to you anymore.

All you wanted was him and the connection.

“Shhh, don’t be such a dirty slut, baby.”

He rasps, steadying your moving thighs, stopping you from relief, and you pout.

“I could eat you the whole night, but I need to be inside you.” he exclaims, roughly.

Positioning himself between your legs, keeps your legs spread and without warning, he penetrates you.

Burying himself with a fast, brutal thrust.

“Oh my god, Taehyung, fuck!” you scream.

He grunts, beginning to move at a fast pace.

Pounding you or ruining you.

You couldn’t understand.

He reached such depths inside you, you didn’t know existed, almost reaching your stomach and your wails came out freely.

“Fuck, this cunt is all mine, yeah? made for my cock…”

He laughs darkly, a sex demon in his place and you almost couldn’t recognize him, hand fisting the sheets, burying your face in them.

“Fucking answer me, slut!”

He lashes out, fingers finding your clit and pinching it hard and you let out a scream, soon turning into a sob.

“Yes, yes, only yours, tae, too much.” you hiccup.

He hums his approval, bed shaking beneath you, the headboard hitting the wall with each of his thrusts.

His cock hits that spot inside you with every thrust, a torture that has your toes curling, breasts bouncing for his eyes.

You moaned, hips automatically pulling away from the pleasure, not understanding whether you want more or it's too much.

“Don’t run, baby…”

Gripping your wrists tighter, pinning you in place.

“Mhhh—you love this, don’t you? love being stretched to your limits?”

His hips puncturing each of his words inside you and you let out a sob at his words, body arching to meet his, hand gripping wherever you can on his body.

He releases your wrists, griped your hips instead, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

He angles you to take him deeper, thrusts growing more forceful and the sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder, his grunts escaping along with your mindless noises.

“I love you,” he signs.

“Shit, I can’t—I hate leaving you like this. I wanna stay here, fucking you, loving you forever...”

His anger can be heard in his words, thrusts turning angry, a glare etched his eyebrows.

“I love you, tae.”

“always—gahh hahhh—”

He leans down, capturing a nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it.

The dual sensation—his cock pounding into you, mouth on your breast—too much.

You cannot take it.

“Come for me, darling. Show me how much you love my cock.”

His own voice strained.

His words pushed you over the edge and you shatter, orgasm breaking through you and you scream loudly in between your sobs.

“tae! mmphhh, nooo.”

Your pussy pulsed and clenched on him, his hips faltering.

He doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t give you a moment to recover.

He pulls out and the sudden emptiness has you whimpering, but he's already flipping you onto your stomach, hands rough and urgent.

“On your knees.” he barks.

You obey, body trembling and controlled by him, sensing his anger.

All this will soon be over in a few hours.

You lifted your hips, ass presenting to him, pussy gaping after being stretched, giving him a good view of your insides and your release dripping out, folds swollen.

Your tight ring just above clenching pathetically, slicked as well.

“Goddamnit!” he growls.

You jump at how unrestrained and possessed he seemed right now, both of you wild and feeling madness overtake.

His hands grip your cheeks, spreading you open more, taking a good look at your bottom, your both holes.

You let out a trembling whimper, hiding your face in the sheets, overtaken by shame, but your hips still rocked towards him.

Wanting him.

“Such pretty holes for me. You're going to take me so good, mhmm?” he breathes.

He thrusts into you again, the new angle getting him a lot deeper than expected.

“Ahh, tae, too much—too—”

Your voice cracks, hands fisting the sheets, burying your face in them and biting on a pillow, trying to ground yourself.

Almost tearing the fabric in the process.

His hips slam against your ass, eyes fixed on your bouncing ass and the way his cock plunges in and out of your sopping pussy.

Coated with your arousal.

A sight that will be a permanent thing in his memory for the lonely nights in the military.

He trembles, his own moans leaving as he continues drilling into you, balls slapped against your clit with every thrust, sending jolts of painful pleasure into you.

Your body instinctively moves away, his fingers quickly grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling you to meet his thrusts and the pain along with pleasure has you letting out cries.

Your throat aching from the constant noises.

“Ah, you’re my girl for sure.” he praises.

He reached around, palming your pussy, tapping your clit with his fingers a few times, enough to make you scream.

“taehyung. taehyung. taehyung”

You call out his name repetitively, mindless, only capable of uttering his name.

“I’m gonna, ahhah, come again.”

He grunts, thrusts growing erratic, control leaving him.

“Do it, baby, let me feel you fall apart for me once again”

You scream, vision going white, coming once again, losing count of how many orgasms you've had in a day.

Your body hurt, achy core swollen, body falling limp onto the bed.

He follows you soon, his groan primal, cock pulsing, spilling inside you, filling you up until it hurts.

A pain you welcomed.

“Fuck” he pants.

He collapses onto you, his weight heavy and making you feel secure, breath hot against your neck.

“You’re everything”

Your body still shook, which he tries to soothe by lovingly caressing your back.

But he’s not done.

The night still there, a need still wanting to be quenched.

He pulls out, making you whimper and he flips you onto your back again, eyes dark.

“I need more,” he growls.

“You know I won’t stop until you say the safe word, love…”

His words final and he spreads your legs, eyes locking onto your pussy, dripping with his release mixed with yours and he snarls loudly at the sight.

Your body weak as your toes curled, almost like you're preparing yourself for the long night ahead.

He leans down, not being able to help himself, tongue capturing the little overstimulated bud that has been palpitating needily.

Your body jerked.

“Hnnngg! tae, please, I can't anymore—”

You sniffed, tears streaming but he didn’t listen, tongue collecting both of your arousals mixed together, humming at the taste, sucking until you let out a broken wail.

Your mouth parted, drool spilling onto the sheets.

Your thighs shook around his head and he finally decides to give you a break, letting you breathe.

He slowly faces you, lips glistening, kissing you, sucking onto your bottom lip, letting you taste the combination.

“I’m so angry I have to leave you.”

His words were angry as you see his nostrils flare, and you grip onto his hair, sucking his tongue needily.

“Come back to me soon, tae… come home.”

Still struggling to speak from your intense orgasms, you could feel your heart breaking, a feeling that was more painful than anything.

Home.

A word that he knew was only associated with you.

Home was where you are.

“always... my precious girl.”

His eyes locked onto yours and the endearment of his words, the connection between the two of you had tears streaming down your eyes, his own tears mixing with yours.

Him not being able to stay strong any further. You cling to each other, never wanting to let go.

Hating the universe for separating you both

۶ৎ

The night continues in a rush of different positions, each one more desperate than the other.

He takes you on your side, one leg hooked over his shoulder, cock hitting deep.

You also ride his cock, which turned into him fucking you against the headboard, your back pressed against the wood.

Your screams and cries echoed through the night, filling the room along with his occasional groans and ragged breaths.

By dawn, you both were spent.

The room heavy with the scent of sex.

You collapsed together, naked and tangled, bodies no longer able to move, drained of all its energy.

۶ৎ

The morning light hits you through the bedroom window, unforgiving, the reality of what's about to happen sinking in.

The tangled, damp sheets clings to both of you, the faint red marks on your body and his, from the passion and roughness of last night.

The air still thick with the obscene smell of sweat and sex from what you and Taehyung shared.

Your body ached intensely, each muscle raw and painful from hours of lovemaking.

But it doesn’t compare to the pain in your heart.

A wound that's threatening to break you completely.

You stirred, fighting against the exhaustion, and the first thing you feel was that Taehyung's still inside you.

His cock, now softened but heavy, remains nestled deep inside your pussy, a connection that felt like a lifeline in this moment.

He didn’t want to let you go.

So he stayed inside while you were unconscious in tiredness, asleep.

The sensation was overwhelming—binding you together physically as if that can even stop what's about to happen soon.

Your walls pulse softly around him, still sensitive from the night's intensity, each flutter on your oversensitive core, sending you gasping.

The warmth of him inside you grounded you, reminding you of the way he claimed you.

Just an hour ago.

You’re sprawled across his chest, cheek pressed against his hard muscle, his heartbeat lulling you.

His skin was still slightly slicked with sweat and you look up at him, watching him sleep so peacefully, the sight bringing fresh tears to your eyes.

His lips slightly parted, skin flushed, in that moment he looked so innocent, so peaceful, away from all the worries in the world, just resting, something so rare.

A sight you will lose for long months.

You placed a soft kiss on his chest, just below his nipple, tasting the saltiness of his sweat.

The cockwarming felt more than physical—a refusal to let go even in sleep.

Your pussy stretched and full and every breath you took shifts you slightly, causing him to press further into your inner walls.

Your breath hitched, a moan escaping.

It's not arousal, not exactly, your body was too spent for that.

But a deep, aching connection

A need to hold onto him in every possible way.

You felt vulnerable, heart breaking into pieces at the thought of losing this closeness. The sensation of being connected to him felt both comforting and torturous.

You pressed closer to him, fingers curling onto his chest.

As if you can keep him here.

Make him stay.

Taehyung’s arms are wrapped around you, one hand resting possessively on your hip, the other tangling in your hair as if he’s afraid to let go even in sleep.

His chest rising and falling with his breaths, but there’s a tension in his body.

You shift slightly, his cock twitching inside you and you let out a quiet whimper, body too tired to respond fully but you are too aware of him, so you cannot ignore it.

Your movement felt by him and he soon wakes, breath hitching as he realizes that it's morning now.

The thought settling over him like dread.

“Morning, sweet girl.” he murmurs.

His voice raspy and deep from sleep.

You knew he was trying to lighten your mood.

But it wasn’t working, it ached you further hearing his voice.

His lips brushed your forehead, lingering there, feeling his lips tremble, his emotions can be felt just from that simple touch alone.

His cock still inside you and he doesn’t move to pull out as if he were too clinging to the final moment of connection.

“So warm, so perfect around me… god, I don’t want to leave this—leave you.”

His voice almost breaking with his own pain, your chest tightened, throat constricting with unshed tears.

You tilt your head to meet his and the sight of his eyes—red rimmed along with exhaustion but still expressed so much love for you just with his eyes alone.

The stubble on his jaw gives him a rugged, almost broken beauty.

“tae” you breathe.

His face was blurry with the tears you cannot hold back anymore, buring your face in his chest, wanting to escape this moment so bad.

But his fingers grip your chin, turning your face to his, gaze intense, demanding the truth.

“I’m—I’m gonna miss you.” you confess, shakily.

His jaw clenched and you can see the flash of anger in his face—anger at the fact that he has to leave you, that you are crying.

He hates being the reason for your tears.

He feels like killing himself if that will stop you from crying, from hurting.

“Fuck this,” he spits out.

“I don’t want to go, baby. I can't—”

He swallows hard, brows furrowing in pain.

“I can't leave you like this, still wrapped around me, so mine... this is killing me.”

His hands tighten on your waist, fingers digging into your skin, with a desperate need to hold onto you.

You’re crying now, silent tears streamed down your face, he cups your face in his hand, thumbs brushing away your tears.

His tenderness making you cry harder.

His warm touch not enough to dull the grief you were facing.

“I’ll wait for you, tae. I promise, until you return.”

His eyes soften, but the anger still there.

“I’m coming back to you. Nothing, absolutely no fucking thing, will keep me from you… I swear it, hm?”

His hand holds you to him tightly, the movement causing his cock to shift inside you, you shudder against him.

He lets out a deep, tortured groan, forehead meeting yours.

“You’re my only girl.”

You whimper at his words, his endless love for you and how he makes you feel so important.

So needed.

“I want to stay like this forever.” he murmurs.

You nod, tears falling faster, he captures your lips, desperately, with a mix of sorrow.

His tongue claims your mouth with a hunger that makes your heart race, you kiss him back with equal fevor, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan.

You feel him twitch inside you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, hands still cupping your face.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he commands.

“Eat properly, don’t skip meals. You know I don’t like it, yeah? and I need you strong and healthy, waiting for me… promise me, come on.”

His voice authoritative in a way that makes a small smile tug at your lips, a hushed chuckle leaving you that makes him smile in return.

Him always fussing over to take care of you in other days made you amused, tease him, but now it felt too wrong.

Too heartbreaking.

“I promise.” you tremble.

He nods, eyes searching yours, memorizing all your features for one last time.

“And sleep well.” he continues.

Voice almost pleading.

“Don’t stay up all night worrying about me, tiring yourself. If you’re not okay, I won’t be either… so be a good girl for me.”

You lean into his touch, tears soaking his skin.

“I’ll try,” you whimper.

“For you, I’ll try.”

He exhales shakily, pecking your lips.

“I love you.”

“You’re my reason. Don’t ever forget that.” he whispers.

Finally he moves, his cock slipping out of you, with a wet sound, you both gasp at the loss of him so suddenly after being full the entire night.

Leaving you hollow.

Your pussy gapes before clenching around nothing and you let out a whine, the sudden absence almost painful.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he croaks, hurt in his voice.

Kissing your nose, he helps you settle against the pillows, hands gentle but trembling.

The room already felt cold without his arms wrapped around you and you bite your bottom lip trying to hide a wail, pulling the sheets around your naked body.

A shield against the reality of his departure.

Taehyung stands, broad shoulder decorated with red marks from your nails, occurred from your desperation.

His skin holding your marks.

He moves to the dresser, pulling out the neatly folded military uniform that’s been waiting like a burden all week.

The olive green fabric was a sharp difference from the soft masculine clothes he usually wears and the contrast breaks your heart a little more.

He dresses with a quiet intensity as if getting ready for a war he doesn’t want to fight.

Being forced to do this.

The uniform hugs his muscles tightly and the sight of him in it was both breathtaking and devastating for you.

He looked like a soldier.

Strong and determined.

But the slump of his shoulders and his clenched jaw proved that he was breaking inside.

Shattering.

He catches you watching him, a flash of raw pain etches his features.

“Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he pleads.

“You’re making it harder.”

But he crosses the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside the bed, hand reaching for yours.

He pressed your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles with so much adoration you cannot breathe, his own hand shaking.

“I need you to be strong for me”

“Eat and sleep well. Do it for me, my love, because I'm coming back… and I need you whole when I do.”

“I will.” you sob, voice barely there.

He stands up, pulling you in his arms, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one softer and gentler, trying to savor you.

His hands cupped your face, thumbs wipe away your tears when his own are spilling.

The saltiness of both your tears being tasted and shared between you.

Last shared kiss.

One last time.

“I’ll write to you.” he says.

Once he pulls back, voice fierce and determined.

“Every chance I get, and when I’m back. I’m never letting you again… you'll be mine forever.”

He stands, grabbing the duffel bag that’s been packed and waited by the door.

You follow him to the doorway, the sheets wrapped around your bare body, legs unsteady, each step aching your core from all it endured last night.

But it wasn’t enough to stop your cries, or the pain of him leaving you for so long.

He turned to you one last time, eyes burning with love and rage, his jaw ticking at how helpless he felt.

“I love you”

He breathes, rough hand coming up to caress your cheek one last time.

“always”

And then he’s gone.

Just like that.

The door closes behind him with a soft click, and you're left empty, all alone.

You collapsed to the floor, sobs leaving your mouth, freely now, no longer holding back as you poured out all your emotions.

Your pained cries echoing in the room, the empty room taunting you.

His scent still on your skin, his warmth in the sheets.

But it's never enough.

It's not him.

But it will be all you have left to cling to in the long months ahead, his love for you the only anchor.

Until he returns.

Back to your arms, but this time no world to pull you both apart.

────

permanent taglist: @chaelvrx @wintaemoonjen @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @nanisblogg @cuntygguk @tatamicc @mokaliciouss @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld

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gard3nias · 1 year ago

Text

Amor tam pulcher | KTH - masterlist

❁pairing: taehyung x oc

❁description: Daphne moves from the city to the countryside; objectively, a downgrade, but, emotionally, an upgrade. From the urban chaos straight into his warm embrace

❁synopsis:

"Would you go on a date with me? "Yeah." She nodded. "I'd love to go on a date with you." Voice light and teasing. "Yeah?" His eyes widened slightly. "Yeah." "Oh, God. I thought you'd say no because-" "Why?" Then her voice dimmed, shy and hesitant. "I like you."

❁genre: strangers to lovers, coming-of-age, romance, fluff, smut, angst, cross-posted on Wattpad and ao3

❁wc: 272.59k+

❁date: 30/03/2024

❁warning: mature content

❁notes: strangers-to-lovers, lots of fluff, smut, a lil angst, taehyung is head over heels for oc, nature lovers (oc loves flowers, taehyung loves butterflies), countryside (looks like Italy because that is the only type of countryside I know and love), oc has a lovely family, taehyung has daddy issues, jimin and jungkook are taehyung's besties (they also have other two girls as best friends); oc has a girl best friend (childhood best friend) and three boys as best friends); oc is so fucking prettyyy, like girl pretty; cross-posted on wattpad and ao3

❁chapters (status - ongoing) ⇀ updates every Friday, midnight

latest — 04/07

❀ ❛prologue❜ - 1.52k

Rewriting the story of Daphne and Apollo ⇀ «A love that drives me crazy, a lovely crazy, a sexy crazy, an amazing crazy»

❀ 01 ❛love is all around❜ - 4.24k

On a chilly summer morning, a bouncy curly-haired sun rose up and shone above the flower

❀ 02 ❛ying yang❜ - 4.28k

Photosynthesis: the sun shines bright above the flower providing it with energy which will be transformed into nutrients

❀ 03 ❛the exploratory stage❜ - 5.48k

As the sun shines in its might, it brightens the way for a little flower to see over the horizon

❀ 04 ❛just like old times❜ - 6.70k

The bright rays of the sun show the way to the flower, introducing it to an innocent little bear, a ferret and a little wasp

❀ 05 ❛a monarch butterfly❜ - 4.17k

There, going back home, was an unusual combination of subjects: a cricket, a wing-man, a monarch butterfly, a little pika and a puppy

❀ 06 ❛venus❜ - 4.82k

Who could have ever thought that a flower could grow in space? Who? No one surely and yet... there it was, standing upright in its beauty

❀ 07 ❛a laurel❜ - 4.92k

He knew he wasn't meant to fly to space because he physically couldn't but this thought wouldn't stop him. Was he being pretentious? Trying to exceed his limits?

❀ 08 ❛fuck you!❜ - 6.10k

Normally, flowers are in people's gardens or on a bed of green grass so... what the hell is one singular one doing in the middle of the ocean. Does it know, does anyone know, that too much water will cause it harm... especially when the water is salty?

❀ 09 ❛en route❜ - 5.07k

With its six tiny feet into proper boots, a good protective shield over his wings and an astronaut helmet on, the monarch butterfly embarks on a life-threatening journey, one believed to be a one-way ticket travel

❀ 10 ❛who we are, what we do❜ - 6.01k

Flowers don't have eyes, yeah, and neither does a pika glow even during the day. The flower is used to seeing only the sun shine during the day. The little pika walking by is unusual.

❀ 11 ❛an overly ambitious hedonistic seductress❜ - 6.04k

Cleopatra is the modern definition of the term "femme fatale"; she's known for ruling in ancient Egypt but also for her relationship with Ceaser and Mark Antony

❀ 12 ❛the butterfly, the cricket and the wing-man❜ - 4.49k

A butterfly, a cricket and a wing-man all have wings somewhat. The first does fly, the second mostly leaps and the last doesn't fly unless the first two do.

❀ 13 ❛the Titanic❜ - 7.31k

Between the night of the 14th and the 15th, in 1912, one of the biggest ships of its time sank, going against the expectations but did it? At the time, there was a little competition between countries so when it sank it wasn't so surprising: something so big with very few resources would have never made it across the ocean.

❀ 14 ❛from five to ten❜ - 11.44k

Brighten the mood. Increase the energy. Make a downturned flower rise high and flunt its beautiful petals for others to see.

❀ 15 ❛bold, red and underlined❜ - 14.70k

“You know? That party I wanted to host at mine? You’re so invited. In fact, you’re the first one on my guest list and I’ll underline your name in red as in ‘in great and urgent need of pussy’—”

❀ 16 ❛«it's Daphne»❜ - 11.30k

A monarch butterfly sees a lot of flowers in its short span of life but never has this one, nor its ancestors, seen a flower as pretty as the one ahead. The flower was there, living beautifully in space.

❀ 17 ❛hesperiidae❜ - 6.41k

Right when the sun faded away and the dark clouds took over, the little butterfly's wings fluttered less as it lost hope until something caught his eye, a gleam slicing through the gloom and focusing on a flower.

❀ 18❛opposites attract❜ - 5.59k

Winter and the Wind of the West come to destroy but nothing can touch a flower when it's under a shelter, something that will prevent it from dying in the cold or losing its beautiful petals.

❀ 19 ❛peek-a-boo (boo boo)❜ - 5.66k

Things have been too unusual for this butterfly. Wasn't it trying to embark on an impossible journey? To space? How did it end up in a shiny sea? it's floating and his pupils are swelling. The beauty is indeed out of this world

❀ 20 ❛lifejacket❜ - 6.97k

The wings grew with each flutter. There was a glowing dot on the ocean and it was slowly fading out into the darkness so the butterfly cradled it and protected the leur

❀ 21 ❛monarch and blue morpho butterflies❜ - 4.13k

The weather was chilly and slightly windy. Despite the discomfort it caused everyone, the flower stood out like a thumb as it danced and waved with the soft patterns of the breeze. The butterfly couldn't do anything other than admire with widened orbs

❀ 22 ❛rosy cheeks❜ - 3.91k

Did it see it? Did the flower see the butterfly? Because the butterfly has already seen the flower. Had already memorised every curve, every line, and every dot that brought the flower to life.

❀ 23 ❛caramel macchiato❜ - 4.23k

There was no way he could ever get lost: one look at those eyes and he'd see all the constellations, the map leading him to Venus

❀ 24 ❛butterflies, flowers... and butterflies❜ - 6.03k

«I mean, it's also an evergreen plant like the Laurel but it doesn't sound as special. Lauri does though.»

❀ 25 ❛bittersweet❜ - 4.10k

There were seven lanes, each welcoming an athlete, for a total of seven athletes. Yet, as the contestants got ready for the lace, some chose to acknowledge the presence of only a few athletes, the ones they were marking. Their true competition.

❀ 26 ❛open stage❜ - 9.78k

Floating and hovering around his spaceship, the butterfly moved closer to the round window giving to the dark glittered expanse. There was Venus and standing proudly in its infinite beauty was the flower.

❀ 27 ❛approach, round out, flare❜ - 8.08k

Poor Cinderella. She cried and cried. Then a small woman appeared in a cloud. It was Cinderella’s fairy godmother. “Biddidi, bobbidi, noo!” sang the fairy godmother as she waved her magic wand, but she gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth in bewilderment. Cinderella had turned into a tomato!

❀ 28 ❛a lighthouse❜ - 6.47k

Water flowed through the clothes, the hair strands, and around the body as the flower held onto a wide piece of wood. The water was chilling, the night was silent, and the ambience was dark, but right through the blackness slid the rotating rays of a lighthouse. Blinking to adapt to the brightness, the flower called for help.

❀ 29 ❛sus or sos?❜ - 7.12k

The rotating and flashing lighthouse lights shone upon a cricket, which floated barely a foot away from the flower. Yet, as the butterfly came to rescue, it didn’t see it, leaving the cricket trying to swim for its life, screaming and choking on water.

❀ 30 ❛a coup d'état❜ - 5.95k

Standing on a tower, two neurons patrolled the area, binoculars to their eyes. Suddenly, they sighted something. They squinted their eyes despite the instrument in their hands and tried to make sense of what they saw. "Hey, send in the alarm. Prepare the defensive barrier. Do something. Hurry up!" As this one darted away, the other remained still, binoculars back to its eyes. Confusion bubbled in its head. What had happened for the heart to be heading towards the body's headquarters? And what was that army of hormones behind it?

❀ 31 ❛the sun on the horizon❜ - 10.75k

The butterfly had finally found the flower. After travelling across space, it landed on Venus, where a singular ethereal natural being stood erect in its almighty beauty. After the coup d’etat, the heart realised that the situation was bigger than expected. The heat rose up to every part of the body. Butterflies increased and with that the flutters of their wings, which fanned the fire, expanding instead of quenching it. Infatuation at its peak.

❀ 32 ❛the lily family❜ - 7.09k

A new member of the Liliaceae. “You like butterflies, and she’s named after a flower.”

❀ 33 ❛twinkle, twinkle little star!❜ - 12.75k

1905. Annus mirabilis. Three important elements: Einstein, the relativity of time, Planck, quantum mechanics, and Quantum entanglement.

❀ 34 ❛on the highway to Forever❜ - 11.76k

Livin' easy, lovin' free. No stop signs, speed limit. Hey, mumma, look at me. I'm on the way to the promised land.

❀ 35 ❛collywobbles❜ - 11.57k

Collywobbles: queasiness, intense nervousness… or butterflies in the stomach.

❀ 36 ❛the Daphne odora❜ - 7.65k

A pure white bed. Snow. Then a bundle of grace. Pink petals gathered into a flower. Green leaves held the masterpiece, all in a pure white bed of snow.

❀ 37 ❛«Uno, nessuno, centomila» Love❜ - 18k

Love has many faces, many identities. It depends on the situation, the receiver and the giver. It’s similar to Pirandello’s theory of masks. Eros, Storge, Philia, but no Philautia. Romantic and passionate love, familial love, goodwill and platonic love, but no self-love… yet.

❀ 38

❀ 39

❀ 40

❀ 41

❀ 42

❀ 43

❀ 44

❀ 45

... and there's more

❁pinterest board // my main

2K notes · View notes

koooobi · 28 days ago

Text

Devil Town | 01

pairing: ot7bts x reader

genre: mystery, haunted, ghost!au, historic, supernatural (read warnings)

summary: She eagerly stepped into her new home, filled with excitement and a sense of newfound independence. Unbeknownst to her, the house held a hidden secret, as seven ethereal beings lingered within its walls, trapped in a realm between the living and the dead. Their presence would soon intertwine with her life, revealing a haunting tale of mystery where she would be forced to free them, bringing them back to the land of the living.

warnings: mentions of ghosts&demons, mentions of death, murder, blood, haunted house, horror, smut, fluff, angst, jump scares, bts haunt y/n… (warnings will be at the start of each chapter)

authors note: this was meant to be a lot longer but i just needed to get something out... pls ignore how bad this is it’s just the start so it’s kind of like a filler? idk ? AND IM GETTING THERE SORRYYYYY 🥹🥹🥹 also don’t be a silent reader and lmk ur thoughts 💛

word count: 4.1k

tag list: ( open) @comicnerd557 @sanya823 @v4ksk4tz @uniquecutie-puffs @borahaetelevision @trouble-sistar @sathom013 @uniquetravelerone @cbtmeee @11thenightwemet11 @minimonimi8

series masterlist | teaser | 01

The moving truck groaned to a halt in front of the house, its engine rumbling as if reluctant to let go of the cargo inside. You stepped onto the cracked sidewalk, clutching your coat tightly as you looked up at the house that was now yours. It stood at the end of the quiet street, its weathered exterior bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. The shutters sagged slightly, and ivy crept up one side, giving it a certain charm that had called to you the moment you saw it. It was a house with history - a place that felt alive.

The movers began hauling your furniture and boxes into the house, grunting under the weight of your belongings. You directed them inside, navigating the maze of boxes and half-assembled furniture.

It didn't take as long as you expected, and soon enough, all the boxes from the truck were now somewhat neatly placed inside your home, ready to be opened and emptied, a task you couldn't wait to begin.

The house was a huge catch, and you couldn't find the words to explain your gratitude to the universe for helping you come across it. It was perfect. Two stories with a basement and an attic. What more could you possibly ask for? The only downside was that it was a little old and uncared for, the grass at the front and even at the back was far past being overgrown, in desperate need of being cut and the inside of the house had an even more antique and rustic look to it. It would take a lot of work to bring it right to your standards.

A newfound surge of excitement and independence coursed through your bones as you basked in the glory of your home, skipping up the steps of the porch and looking out at the neighbourhood. Your eyes caught sight of your neighbours standing across the street.

A man and a woman stood on the curb, their faces unreadable as they watched you. The man whispered something to the woman, who frowned and shook her head. You waved, offering a polite smile, but they didn't wave back. Instead, they turned and walked away briskly, their murmured conversation carrying on the wind.

You didn't think anything of it, not everybody was friendly at the beginning. Shrugging, you made your way inside.

Your first few days in the house were a whirlwind of unpacking and organising. You carefully placed your favourite books on the shelves, hung up curtains that caught the light just right, and arranged cozy touches that turned each room into a small sanctuary. Boxes lay scattered, slowly dwindling in number as you added pieces of yourself to the space, arranging and rearranging until it felt less like an empty shell and more like a home.

By the time you were finished, you sighed in satisfaction, leaning against the worn wooden banister that framed the staircase. It was quiet--almost too quiet-but the kind of silence that felt peaceful, wrapping you in a sense of calm.

You didn't notice it at first, the faint sounds overhead, until you settled onto the couch with a cup of tea and heard a soft, rhythmic tapping drifting down from above, coming from the attic.

That first night, you dismissed the noise as nothing. "Old house, old noises," you reassured yourself, pulling a blanket tighter around your shoulders. But as the hours passed, the tapping continued. You could almost convince yourself it was just the wind, until you realised it had a pattern.

The second night, the noise returned, louder and more persistent. This time, curiosity overcame your unease.

Finally, with a deep breath, you set your cup aside and rose, casting a glance up the dim stairway. You grabbed a flashlight, though you weren't sure why; something about the attic's shadowy corners unsettled you in a way you couldn't quite explain. Still, you found yourself climbing the stairs, the air growing cooler with each step, a hint of something stale lingering in the air.

At the top, you hesitated before pushing open the attic door, half expecting dust and cobwebs, maybe a few forgotten boxes. But as your flashlight's beam swept across the room, you froze. Across from you, lined up along the far wall, was a row of portraits. Each one was framed in intricate, dark wood, perfectly preserved but muted in haunting gray tones.

Heart pounding, you stepped closer. Seven faces, frozen in time, gazed back at you—young men, each expression somber and strangely intense, as though they had secrets hidden just behind their eyes. The photographs were stunning in their detail, each capturing a distinct personality, a different mood. They wore vintage clothing that seemed pulled from another era, their gazes seeming to follow you, almost as if they were watching, waiting.

Chills prickled down your arms as you moved down the row, taking in the portraits one by one. A strange familiarity tugged at you, though you couldn't quite place it. You didn't know them, but something about them felt almost... known.

As you leaned in closer, the silence shattered. A whisper, barely audible, brushed past your ear. You spun around, flashlight trembling in your grip, but the attic was empty. The air seemed to thicken, the temperature plummeting as if an unseen presence lingered in the corners. Turning back to the portraits, your heart raced, the weight of their stares pressing down on you like a physical force.

And then, your eyes caught onto something else. Each portrait bore a small brass plate, each engraved with a single name, each name once again oddly familiar, but now feeling strange and haunting in this setting. Seokjin. Yoongi. Hoseok. Namjoon. Jimin. Taehyung. Jungkook.

Your breath caught as you stared into their eyes. For a split second, you thought you saw the faintest glimmer of movement—did they just blink? You stumbled back, heart pounding, questions swirling through your mind. Why were they here, preserved in this lonely attic? And what did it mean that you had found them? The whispers began again, soft as a breath, as if the walls themselves murmured secrets you weren't meant to hear.

Panicked, you turned and fled down the stairs, the lingering image of their eyes etched in your mind. Yet as you descended, the unnerving feeling wouldn't leave you. No matter how you tried to shake off the encounter, you couldn't help but feel you had disturbed something hidden, some mystery that lay just beyond reach, waiting for you to unravel it.

You could practically hear your heartbeat thumping against your chest, rapidly gaining speed and causing a rush of blood to run through your body. You held a hand to your heart in a futile attempt to calm it down, taking deep, laboured breaths and closing your eyes for a second.

Although you managed to calm your heart down, your mind continued to wonder, causing a throbbing ache to grow inside of it.

That night, sleep refused to come. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning as the weight of those portraits pressed onto your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, their faces hovered in the darkness.

At some point, exhaustion finally won, pulling you into uneasy dreams. Shadows slithered through your subconscious, whispers curling around your ears like tendrils of smoke. In the dream, you stood in the attic once more, but this time, the portraits were empty. The frames remained, perfectly aligned, but the faces; gone. You turned your head, and instead of them being frozen in time in the portraits, the seven of them stood with their unmoving eyes watching you, until a loud thud yanked you from your sleep.

You sat up, heart hammering against your ribs. The house was silent again, but the sound had been real. You knew it.

Swallowing your fear, you swung your legs over the bed and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath your weight, the air colder than it should have been. You followed the unease settling in your bones, your feet carrying you forward before you could second-guess.

As you passed the staircase, something caught your eye. A shape—a figure—just at the edge of your vision.

You froze.

Someone was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Your breath hitched. The shadows clung to them, obscuring their features, but you could make out the silhouette of a man. He stood completely still, head tilted slightly, as if observing you.

Your fingers loosened around the barrister, your voice caught in your throat. A scream threatened to rip out of you, but something was stopping you from doing so. Hesitantly, your feet pulled you towards the light switch, flicking it on without turning away from the figure before you.

And just like that, it was gone.

The air around you felt heavier now, pressing in on your lungs. You knew fear. You had felt it before, in the attic, in the dream, in the weight of those stares. But this? This was something else.

Gathering whatever courage you had left, you descended the stairs slowly, each step measured and careful. The wooden boards groaned beneath you, but the house was still, too still. The silence felt unnatural, charged with something unseen.

Then, from the living room, the record player clicked on.

A soft static hummed through the air before a hauntingly slow melody crackled to life, its sound eerily distorted. The hairs on your arms stood on end. You didn't own a record player.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you turned toward the sound. The living room was empty, but the record player spun lazily, its needle gliding across the vinyl.

A voice spoke out.

Soft, low, and undeniably real.

"You're not supposed to be here."

It came from behind you.

Ice shot through your veins. You turned, pulse roaring, eyes darting across the dim space. There was nothing. No one. But the air was charged, as if something unseen had just been there.

The melody from the record player warbled, slowing, distorting into something unnatural before cutting out entirely.

The silence returned, deafening in its weight.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but deep down, you knew you were not alone in this house.

Millions of thoughts raced through your mind. Was this somehow connected to the paintings? It couldnt be, right? Your heartbeat pounded unnaturally fast, breath hitching as your entire body trembled. A violent sob tore from your throat before you could stop it.

Without thinking, you bolted up the stairs, desperate to reach the safety of your room. But just as you reached for the door, it slammed shut in your face.

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, throat tight with unshed tears. Your gaze darted frantically around the dim hallway before you lunged for the handle, yanking it open.

A ghost? A spirit? No. That thought had long been buried. This wasn't some supernatural force—this was real. Someone had broken in.

You threw the door shut behind you, heart hammering as you stumbled towards the bed and snatched up your phone. Your fingers, trembling and slick with sweat, tapped out the first numbers that came to mind.

911.

Seconds dragged unbearably long as the ringing tone buzzed in your ear. You sank onto the bed, one leg bouncing uncontrollably, hands clenched into fists. Until, finally, a voice called out from the other side.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice. Soft. Steady.

You sucked in a shaky breath. "I— There's s-someone in my house. I think they broke in. I—I'm pretty sure they're still here." The words spilled out, tripping over themselves.

"Okay, miss. Take a deep breath for me. What's your name and address?"

You answered quickly, throat tightening as you waited.

"Stay on the line with me. Can you tell me what makes you think someone broke in?"

Your fingers clenched tighter around the phone. The memory surged back, ice-cold and unmistakable.

"I saw a man," you whispered. "They spoke to me."

The line crackled for a moment, filling the silence in your room with static. Then, the dispatcher's voice returned—calm, controlled, as if she hadn't just heard the most terrifying thing you've ever said.

"They spoke to you?"

You swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Can you tell me what they said?"

Your mind raced back to that moment—the voice, the way it seemed to slither into your ears like a whisper only meant for you. You could still hear it, low and deliberate, replaying over and over.

You're not supposed to be here.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that would make it go away.

"They said I—I shouldn't be here.," you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

A beat of silence. Then, "Y/N, are you somewhere safe?"

Safe.

Your eyes flickered toward the door, the flimsy lock on the knob. A thin piece of wood separating you from whoever, or whatever, was out there.

"I don't know," you admitted.

The dispatcher's voice softened. "Help is on the way, okay? I need you to stay quiet and listen carefully."

A rustling sound echoed from outside your room. Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

Your blood turned ice cold.

"They're still here," you whispered into the phone.

Another pause—this one heavier, more urgent. Then, the dispatcher spoke again, voice low and firm.

"Lock the door. Now."

You lunged for the knob, twisting it until you heard the soft click of the lock sliding into place. You barely had time to step back before a thud sounded from behind it.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Something had just pressed against the door.

The phone shook in your hands. The dispatcher's voice was still in your ear, but you could barely hear her over the blood rushing in your head.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A slow, deliberate knocking.

Your stomach dropped.

The voice from the other side was familiar.

"Let me in."

It was the same one from earlier.

Your breath hitched.

Every fiber of your being screamed at you to move, to do something, but you were frozen in place, your body paralyzed by sheer terror.

"Let me in."

The words slithered through the door, slow and deliberate.

Your entire body went rigid. You knew that voice. That painstakingly low, guttural tone that had sent a chill down your spine the first time you heard it. The kind of voice that didn't just speak, it crawled under your skin, wrapping around your bones like something cold and suffocating.

It was him.

The man from earlier. The one you'd tried so hard to convince yourself wasn't real.

And now, he was standing just outside your door.

The phone nearly slipped from your grip. Your fingers clenched around it in a desperate attempt to hold on, but the tremors in your hands made it feel like you could drop it at any second. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, chest rising and falling too fast, too erratic.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words tangled themselves into knots at the back of your throat, choking you. Finally, you forced them out in a ragged whisper.

"T-There's—" Your voice faltered, barely audible over the pounding in your ears. You swallowed hard, forcing down the rising panic threatening to consume you. "There's someone outside my door."

The silence that followed was thick, almost unnatural.

"They're—" You sucked in a sharp breath, gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. "It's the same one from earlier."

The moment those words left your lips, the air in the room changed.

On the other end of the line, the dispatcher hesitated. It was barely a second, but you felt it. The carefully measured calm in her voice cracked, just slightly, but enough to tell you that she knew that something wasn't right.

"Y/N," she said, slow and deliberate. "Is there anyone else in the house with you?"

You shook your head instinctively before realising she couldn't see you. You swallowed again, throat dry and tight.

"No," you whispered.

Another pause. Another moment of silence.

Until the handle rattled.

Not violently. Not in an attempt to break in. It was slow. Controlled. Testing it.

Your breath hitched, a sharp, strangled sound catching in your throat. You staggered backward, nearly losing your balance as your legs collided with the edge of the bed.

And then it spoke.

"End the call."

The voice was different now, more soft. Too soft. It shouldn't have made your blood run cold, shouldn't have sent that horrible, skittering sensation crawling up your spine.

It sounded like a recording played back at the wrong speed, stretched and warped just enough to feel off. Just enough to make your body reject it, to tell you that whatever was on the other side of that door wasn't supposed to exist.

The dispatcher's voice was tighter now. Urgent. "Listen to me. Stay where you are. Do not open that door. Officers are on route. Can you find anything to barricade it?"

Your brain struggled to process her words, to latch onto them through the growing fog of terror. Your eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for anything to use as a barricade.

The desk. The dresser. The chair in the corner.

Could you move them in time? Would it even matter?

"You're not supposed to be here."

Your stomach twisted violently, nausea clawing its way up your throat.

The rattling of the door handle combined with the knocking managed to drown out the comforting voice on the other side of the phone.

And then, silence.

The knocking stopped. The rattling ceased. The presence outside the door just... vanished.

The air in the room felt heavier now, thick and unmoving, pressing down on you from all sides. It was as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting.

The dispatcher's voice crackled through the phone, but it felt distant, muffled beneath the deafening ring in your ears.

"Miss? Are you still there?"

You couldn't answer. You couldn't move.

Because your gaze had drifted—just slightly.

The door was still closed. Still locked. But, behind you, the closet was open, creaking slightly as it continued to open until finally, it slammed against the wall.

The closet door slammed against the wall with a force that sent vibrations through the floor, and your breath caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, a thick, unnatural quiet that pressed against your ears like cotton.

Your body refused to move at first, the sheer weight of the moment rooting you in place. Your eyes locked onto the darkness beyond the threshold of the closet. It wasn't just darkcit was void, an abyss that swallowed the faint glow of your bedside lamp before it could reach inside.

Then, something shifted.

A presence.

At first, it was subtle—a slow, creeping awareness that prickled at the back of your neck. The unmistakable sensation of being watched. A deep, bone-chilling cold seeped into the room, frosting over your skin and sinking into your muscles.

"You're not supposed to be here." The voice from the beginning called out, slithering through the air like an icy tendril, curling around your ear in a breath that wasn't entirely human. It was layered, distorted almost, as if spoken by multiple voices at once, each one slightly out of sync with the other.

Your body reacted before your brain could. You stumbled backward, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as your heel caught the edge of the rug. Your legs buckled, sending you crashing onto the floor.

The phone slipped from your grasp and landed beside you, the dispatcher's voice buzzing through the speaker in broken static.

"Officers... on their way... stay with me—"

You barely heard her.

Because something moved in the closet.

A figure.

It was impossible to make out, but it was there, a mass of shifting darkness that loomed just beyond the threshold. Not quite human, not entirely formless. It seethed in the black, pulsing with something unnatural, something wrong.

And then it stepped forward.

Your breath turned to ice in your lungs.

The air itself seemed to warp around it, bending and distorting like a heat mirage, but cold. Unfathomably cold. The shadows clung to its frame, shifting and unraveling, like the edges of its form couldn't quite stay together.

Then, the hand shot out; long, spindly fingers, impossibly thin yet unnervingly strong, clamped around your wrist. A chill unlike anything you had ever felt surged through you, locking your muscles in place. It wasn't just cold, it was absence, a void where warmth had never existed.

The grip tightened.

A sharp, excruciating pain shot through your arm, like icy needles burrowing beneath your skin. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you let out a strangled scream, instinctively yanking back.

It held firm.

The thing in the closet didn't move, didn't lurch or stagger. It simply existed, an unrelenting force beyond the grasp of reason.

Slowly, deliberately, it began to pull.

Your heels dug into the floor, desperate to find purchase, to fight against the inhuman strength dragging you toward the black maw of the closet. Your free hand flailed wildly, knocking over a lamp, sending glass shards scattering across the hardwood.

A scream tore out your throat, thrashing against the tightening grip.

But just as suddenly as it had grabbed you, it released.

You fell back hard, the impact rattling through your bones as you gasped for air, clutching your wrist. The skin there was ice cold, a deep, aching numbness settling beneath the surface.

The room was still.

Too still.

The figure had retreated.

But the closet door remained open.

The dispatcher's voice crackled through the phone, sharp and urgent.

"Y/N, are you safe? Are you safe?"

You couldn't answer. You couldn't breathe.

Because just as the sirens outside wailed closer, flashing red and blue against your window—

The closet door clicked shut.

And in the heavy silence that followed, you swore you heard it again.

That voice. A breath against the shell of your ear. It was hard to make out what it said, but you could feel its lingering presence all over your body—like hands roaming over you.

Another scream ripped from your throat, raw and unrelenting, as sobs shook your entire body. Your mind struggled to grasp the impossibility of the nightmare unfolding around you, but reality felt fractured, distorted beyond comprehension.

Somewhere in the distance, the dispatcher's voice crackled through the phone, urgent and persistent, The shrill noise of the sirens blended with the dispatcher's frantic calls, layering over the ringing in your ears. A flicker of red and blue light pulsed against the windowpane, flashing in rhythmic bursts, casting eerie shadows across the room.

But you couldn't form words, you could barely even breathe properly. The weight of fear pressed down on your chest like a vice, suffocating, paralyzing.

Your fingers dug into the cold wooden floor, grasping for any sense of stability. With trembling arms, you pushed yourself up, legs wobbling beneath you. Every movement felt sluggish, as if you were moving through water, but you forced yourself to stand.

Help was finally here, but you didn't feel any safer than you did before. What could they possibly do now? There was something much more deeper, darker happening here that the police would not be able to solve.

Deep voices, commanding shouts joined the chaos outside, overlapping with the howling sirens.

Short, rapid breathes left your throat in an attempt to calm yourself down as you slowly took steps towards your door which was still surprisingly locked. Your quivering hands reached out, clasping onto the metallic handle and twisting the door open. A violent banging sounded from downstairs, causing you to flinch in fear, before realising it was just the police outside. They continued to shout, and you managed to make out the sound of your name frantically being called by someone.

Your feet dragged you down the stairs, as you wiped your face, removing any trace of the former tears that had fell from your swollen eyes. Before you could open the door, it was already being pushed open and officers rushed inside.

Two officers stood in front of you, the other two had taken on the task of exploring your house, checking if there truly was a burglar -- an invader -- lurking inside.

You carefully explained the previous events that had occurred before their arrival, and they listened intently, nodding along to everything you said. Soon enough, the other two joined in with a concerned look etched on their faces.

"There's.." one of them began, all eyes on him. "There's nobody here. We checked every room." He clasped his hands behind his back, glancing towards his colleague.

"There wasn't a trace of anybody.. But you did leave the front door unlocked." the other added.

"Oh, it must've slipped my mind..." you trailed off, mentally facepalming at your stupidity. You never left the door unlocked. Ever.

Noticing your sullen expression, the female officer spoke up, "Hey, don't worry. We'll do one last check, right?" she looked over at her peers, causing them to nod along, followed by a chorus of 'yes'.

You muttered out a quick thank you, hands clenching into balls in your lap as you watched them make their way back up the stairs, in search of someone you were no longer sure had ever been real.

239 notes · View notes

watashijeon · 2 years ago

Text

Mon Ange. | KTH

listen while reading — Is there someone else The Weeknd

— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —

You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.

Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.

"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.

“I have to tell you something.”

Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.

He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.

"I think we should end our arrangement."

Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?

Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.

You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.

He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.

“Well, go on then.”

Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.

“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.

“I do, bye.”

He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.

Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.

But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?

“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.

And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.

How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.

You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.

The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.

He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.

…

He pauses.

Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.

He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.

In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.

Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.

You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.

Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.

Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.

He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.

Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.

Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.

It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.

Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.

He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.

Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.

Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.

The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.

“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”

It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.

“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”

Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?

“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”

“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.

“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”

“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.

Ping

If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.

It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.

“What is this all for?”

His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”

“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”

Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.

He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.

So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.

He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.

“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”

“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”

He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.

“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”

Click.

He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.

Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.

“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.

It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.

Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.

Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.

He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.

15 minutes before

It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.

He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.

“Tae..?”

Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.

You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.

“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.

Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.

It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.

Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.

That helped some.

Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.

Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.

It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.

You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”

God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.

He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.

Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.

It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.

But why did he want to stay selfishly so.

Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..

Corny and sappy he thinks.

He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.

Present

All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.

Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.

It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.

You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.

You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.

“Hello?”

“Hmmmhmm, hello.”

There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.

“Yes, Taehyung?”

There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.

“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.

Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.

Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.

You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.

Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.

But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.

All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.

He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.

You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.

Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.

You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.

“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”

His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.

You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”

It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.

He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”

It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.

It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.

You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”

Silence, absolutely nothing back.

“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”

Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.

Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.

He won’t comment on it properly, never does.

“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.

“What? Stop mumbling.”

He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.

“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.

That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.

The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.

Are you going to do well without me?

Are we ever going to be okay?

Will we ever be fine?

You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.

It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.

Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.

Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.

You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.

You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.

It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.

Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.

You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.

But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.

You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.

You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.

“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.

You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.

But why are you still laying here.. melting away.

He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.

Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.

His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.

"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.

"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.

Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.

You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.

He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.

"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”

"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.

"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."

You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.

He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.

He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.

Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.

Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.

It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.

Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.

Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.

You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.

Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.

So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.

“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”

He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.

"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.

The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.

Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”

Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.

Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.

He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”

Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.

“So perfect, all for me, hm.”

You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.

“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.

The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."

She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.

Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.

“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.

He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”

Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.

"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”

“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”

“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.

feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.

“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”

“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.

Back and forth, back and forth.

An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.

He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.

"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."

His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.

“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”

“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.

The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.

You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.

“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.

Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.

Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.

The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.

He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.

"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.

“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.

“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.

He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.

You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’

He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.

“Y-you, you, fuck!”

It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.

Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.

“Again.”

You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.

He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.

“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.

“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.

Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."

"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."

"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."

"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"

Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.

"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."

Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.

"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.

At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.

The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.

"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”

He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.

“Want to show this cunt off to the world."

“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.

“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.

“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.

He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.

It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.

You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.

That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.

Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.

Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”

Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.

“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”

You don’t answer.

“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.

The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.

It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.

While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.

You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.

Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.

Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.

Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.

It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.

“Tae..? You there?”

He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.

“Do you know what you are?”

You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”

It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.

“You’re my girl.”

You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.

“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”

He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.

#bts fan fiction #bts ff #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung x yn #taehyung x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung pwp #bts angst #kim taehyung angst #bts au #bts aus

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mikassaviola · 1 year ago

Text

Release | KTH

One Shot

Description: Reader is really horny and needs to cum, only one person can make her, her ex boyfriend. So she finds herself at his apartment begging for him to fuck her.

Warnings: Porn with little plot, begging, oral (f receiving), degradation, titty sucking, choking, rough sex, orgasm denial (f), multiple orgasms (m), powerhouse Taehyung (iykyk), putting reader in place, sexy Taehyung, mention of shower sex.

A/N: here goes nothing.... With my first smut.

-------------------------------------------------

It had been 2 months since your break up. Two months since you orgasmed. No you didn't have sex with anyone else because you already knew it'd end up in you being disappointed.

You were ruined by Taehyung, being together in a healthy sexual relationship for so long does that to you.

You were over jealous that day when a girl offered to pour him a drink and he accepted it.

Never apologized to you, never came back, didn't text but fuck it. Fuck everything.

You reached out your hand to press the bell outside his apartment, it was almost 3 am and you were craving his touch.

So much that you think you'd die. You heard the rustling behind the door, didn't know how he'd react seeing you after this long.

Didn't know if he wanted you to be there or not, you were ready to beg. For him to take you in. Love you, spoil you, touch you, fuck you.

You fiddled with your t-shirt, a grey one with grey trousers and black sneakers.

It was 3 am after all. The door opened and your heart hammered inside your chest at the sight of him.

Gorgeous, dark black messy hair falling slightly over his eyes and slightly loose black t-shirt and trousers. Fuck.

"Are you okay?", He asked startled to see you this late. His mind wandering to multiple possibilities never too close to the reason you were actually at his doorstep.

"No?", You said more like questioned as he stepped aside and you entered. You can talk to him.

Talk about shit, everything. But your body ached for him. You faced him after he closed the door. He was so hot.

Gorgeous. Handsome. Beautiful. Ethereal. Unreal. Flawless.

"What hap-", He was cut off when you stepped forward pressing your body to his, pressing your lips on his.

Fuck his pretty mouth can talk to you later.

Your hands went around his neck, pulling him closer and closer. He was quick to catch you in his arms, his huge hands going around your back pressing it to pull you closer.

You were weak, vulnerable. His slight action made you whimper in his mouth.

Taehyung groaned when his crotch pressed into your lower abdomen and you felt his hardness. He just woke up after all.

"Please Taehyung fuck me, I can't"- You took a step back taking off your t-shirt and then continuing. "Take it anymore".

Taehyung's gaze landed on your breast, he sucked in a breath. You must've taken a cab to come here.

Your nipples were already hard. You were in a cab with no bra as you came here. Taehyung thought and found it so hot.

Two months he had been craving to see you and here you were equally if not more eager to let him fuck you.

"Ah baby wanna get fucked? Is that the problem? Is that why you're here at fucking 3 am?", Taehyung asked, his voice getting deeper. Eyes getting hazy as he pulled you in by your hair and kissed you hard.

You were equally eager, matching his pace, his hand roaming on your body as he pulled away and squeezed your left boob a little harshly.

"Say it", He said pressing you on the wall making you gasp.

"Yes, please", You murmured, taking off your shoes trying to get as close as possible.

The familiar cologne, his scent, his touch, his body. You had it right now.

"Fuck, you threw us all away though", Taehyung mocked pulling your body to his making you whine as he pulled you in his embrace walking to his bedroom.

"'M sorry baby, please just make me cum", You cried out when he threw you on the bed and pulled on your trousers, completely naked.

"Yeah? Aren't you just being greedy?", He said standing tall over your laying frame as he pulled up his t-shirt giving you the view you desired to see.

Then he comes to you. (Like he's doing in the gif)

His hand is tracing up your thighs making your body warm, pussy wet, back buckled.

You swear you could cry, and he didn't even touch your clit yet.

"Do you want it here?", Taehyung asked pressing his index finger on your clit making you moan.

"P-please", You moaned out feeling the pressure that was increasing as he rubbed your slit up and down. Up and down.

Making you whine and moan but not doing anything else. "You are so fucking wet darling", Taehyung mused making you shudder.

Taehyung suffered too, you were childish. Throwing away everything for something that could've been solved through simple talk and Taehyung smirked enjoying how you came to him.

He didn't imagine it to be this way. You were always reserved but here you were moaning out his name as he pressed his lips on your clit and entered two fingers inside without a warning.

"Fuck, so full Tae -ah-", You murmured, you moaned. Pressing his head further into your cunt as he pumped his fingers in and out his other hand cupping your boob making you whine out.

"So good", You moaned as his fingers curled around your g spot, his tongue rolling around your hole tasting you and just when you were about to let go he pulled back.

"Taehyung what the fuck", You choked out as he looked at you with a smirk getting up and pulling his trousers down.

"You think you'd come to me after months like an irresponsible greedy whore and I'd do what you want", He hissed taking his huge thick length in his hands as you breathed out heavily just staring at him grieving due to the loss of your orgasm.

He pumped himself once, twice.

"I'll do anything", You whispered and he climbed over you looking into your eyes intensely.

"Anything you say", He said pushing himself inside you in an instant making you gasp.

"Taehyung fuck", You said and he groaned.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight, no one fucked you good when I wasn't there huh?", He rambled, your hands roaming over his body settling on his back when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in.

"Ah, you fuck you got bigger", You moaned pulling his head and kissing his lips as he started thrusting into you.

Fast and hard thrusts making your body rub roughly against his bedsheet as the bed creaked.

"My girl, my pussy, my fucking cunt", Taehyung growled pulling up your right leg to put over his shoulder pushing his dick further in filling you completely.

"Ah fuck I'm gonna"-

"Hold it", Taehyung said, the authority in hsi voice made you shiver. His thrusts never stop. He was pounding into you.

And you loved every single touch of him. You missed this. You missed him.

You missed him fucking you like this.

"I can't anymore ah", You cried out fisting his bed sheet as his hand found your neck.

"Hold", He simply said and after a few thrusts came inside you, filling you up completely and then pulled out, leaving you hanging on the brink.

You had tears in your eyes.

"You're so mean", You whimpered a few tears escaping your eyes out of all the frustration. The build up in your stomach reduces to nothing as your pussy aches for more.

You sobbed as Taehyung smiled.

"Aw my poor innocent baby, thought she could get what she wanted after putting me through shit for two months", Taehyung cooed kissing your cheek making you whimper. His hands drawing circles on your waist as he sucked on your neck.

"Taehyung, I please. Please please please let me -ah- cum", You said in between sobs as he marked you going lower until he had your nipple in his mouth.

He rolled the other one around in his hand, rolling, pinching, squeezing.

"Please fuck me!?", You asked again softly, innocently. It catches Taehyung's attention as he looks at you. Your hazy brown eyes. Slightly teary, desperate asking for you to fuck him.

"Good girl, let me do that, hm?", He murmured holding the underside of your knees and pressing them to your chest and just stared at your cunt for a while.

"Baby you're leaking out so much", Taehyung ended the sentences while entering you.

"Fuck", You squeezed your eyes shut, your cunt sucked him in again as he started thrusting again.

"My little cock slut, so greedy", Taehyung sighs thrusting deeper and harder making his cum leak out of your pussy as you moaned.

"Please just please", you choked out, had no idea what you wanted now that he gave everything to you well except for an orgasm.

"Fucking cunt was made for me, huh? The audacity to take it away", Taehyung growled completely in control, your legs shaking from the pressure he was putting on them.

Just when your squeezes get tighter, moans become higher and all senses of sanity fly out of your mind Taehyung stops and pulls out, pumping himself a few times and comes over your waist leaving you hanging. Again.

"Please please let me cum this time, please Taehyung", You cried begging in hopes that he'd listen to you.

"Mhm, my slut thinks she deserves to cum", Taehyung mused pounding hard into your cunt having already cum four times inside you.

You were shaking and trembling and sore but you needed to cum.

"Fuck", Taehyung whined cumming into you and pulling out again making you cry.

"Please", You almost scream from the frustration so Taehyung put 3 fingers in your cunt.

"Cum", He said pumping into you cunt.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. And you came, harder than you've ever done, letting go.

The ache disappearing but Taehyung didn't stop. The pleasure took you over the moon as you moaned more.

"Holy shit baby, give it to me. So weak for me", He said and you realised what was happening you squirted. Your moaning didn't stop, letting out a shaky sigh when you were done.

"You are mean", You said to Taehyung after a while of catching your breath. He sat you on his lap kissing your eyes and tear strained cheeks, rubbing your back.

"Mm, deserved", He murmured into your lips kissing you softly tracing your thighs that doesn't look like they'll stop shaking.

"I'm sorry for everything", You sighed simply leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I know, you could've cummed but held on, did so well for me. My good girl", Taehyung said kissing your neck and then carrying you up.

"I'll sort out the sheets, you turn on the shower, will be right back", Taehyung smiled kissing your cheek and you smiled back turning on the shower and setting it on mildly warm.

Taehyung joined you after a good ten minutes.

"Missed you", You said wrapping your hands around him making him smile.

"Mhm, I know", He said turning you around, pressing your front on the wall and aligning his dick on your entrance.

"Taeh-", You gasped when he entered.

"Be a good girl and we'll cum together, yeah?", Taehyung murmured and you just moaned getting ready for another round.

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shrewsburysworld · 11 months ago

Text

Twisted Devotion | Kim Taehyung (m) Part 1.

*This is a fan fiction. completely fictional. The behaviour of characters in this fiction is not something to emulate. You are responsible for your own consumption. Thank you.*

*This is original work. Do not copyright*

Pair: Yandere Taehyung × Obsessed Reader

Summary: You were obsessed freak for the new police officer in the town. Trying to get into his heart and pants both with your efforts. But when you give up on him, he comes again in your life and you were dumbfounded when you get to know that he isn't a normal police officer.

Warning: The behaviour of characters are not something to emulate. Reader isn't yandere just crazy for him, blood, reader cuts herself for show off, argument, appearance of choi Yeonjun.

Rainy season has touched South Korea, although many people hated rain Kim Taehyung was not one of them. And it was for variants of reasons.

One of those reasons being her. That woman.

He unintentionally looked at the door as if his eyes were waiting for her. The longing of seeing her was so much that he started hallucinating her standing at door, all drenched, her outfit clearly showing cleavage and her palm all bloody - wait! What?!.

Taehyung snapped out of his imagination while he saw you standing there in real. He quickly got up after he realised that you were crying for help. The junior officer, Choi Yeonjun who was standing beside can't help but cringe. You were coming into police station regularly since two weeks.

And even a blind person can figure out you were in love with officer Kim. He just saw you as a silly girl who was begging for attention. People will say he's too harsh but looking at you clinging on officer Kim like your life depends on it, he was sure.

Taehyung doesn't know what to do, you were crying - probably fake. He knows you by now. And complaining about some unknown person who harmed you. Him being a gentleman gave you a handkerchief and told you to sit on the other side to write a report. Thankfully Yeonjun was already out when hugged him.

He saw your obvious pout after pulling out of hug.

"So, did you see their faces?" Taehyung asked the question even after being sure that this was self harm.

"Won't you ask me how I am?!!" You asked in slight anger tone.

"My palm has been cut open!!" It was not that big but you wanted to see worry or love or whatever it is in his eyes.

Taehyung massaged his head, loudly breathing through his nose. He remembered the night he met you - some goons had attacked you. You were lucky that he was nearby. He fought with them in his regular black tshirt with leather jacket. It was raining so it went all slow motion for you. Your knight in shining armor was nothing less compared to heroes in films.

He lend you his jacket to make you feel more safe. And there were butterflies in your stomach as he made such move. You asked for cleaning his little wounds to touch him, feel his muscles and he thought you were just being kind.

After that night you visited the police station as he told you he works there. You brought him luxurious gifts just simply on the name of being saved. Only if he knew you already gone for him.

He thought it was cute. After that day, she seemed to be everywhere—offering him homemade cookies, dropping by the precinct with lunch, giving him luxurious gifts here and there even if he refused.

You were quite flirty as well but what began as harmless flirtation quickly escalated into something much more unnerving. Every day, you found new ways to insert yourself into his life.

Like - right now you were being pain in the ass. Solely focusing on does he care about her - not even caring about her wounds.

"You need to back off , YN!" Taehyung told you, his voice tight with frustration.

You were silenced by his serious tone.

“This isn’t cute anymore. It’s not a game. Stay away from me.”

But You weren't deterred.

“Taehyung, you don’t mean that,” you said as your voice soft and coaxing, as if you could soothe away his anger with just a few words. You reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked away, his patience at its breaking point.

You were upset not with him but with yourself. You being a rich brat was always given what you wanted. So you were determined to get him to love you.

But now you understood that love can't be forced even after trying so many times you failed to gain his love. You can't always win anything even with money sometimes.

You stood up and left the police station. Your hand was taken care by him while you were expressing your agony.

It's been awhile, taehyung hadn't seen you. Who was he kidding tho it was just second day of you not visiting him.

Taehyung couldn't believe you didn't come the other day after argument. He thought you will enter with your sunshine smile and homemade cookies in your hand, flirting with him by openly calling him baby and talking dirty just to make him blush.

On the first day of your disappearance, he was astonished not founding you by his office door with some notorious idea to see him but he became busy to stop the feeling, the feeling of loneliness. He was surrounded by people but at the same time he wasn't. It was like you had his identity, and that somehow made him happy.

The second day was normal for everyone but not Taehyung, not him.

At first, it was just a flicker of curiosity. He wondered where were you, what were you doing, why the heck you had finally listened to him. But as the day turned into night, that curiosity grew into something more—a strange, burning need to see you again.

The rain wasn't stopping and for the first time he felt like hating the rain for the first time. It can't be right?! He promised himself to be rain lover all his life.

He began to replay your encounters in his mind, each memory sharpened by the absence of your chaotic energy.

And then, the dreams started. Dreams where you was the one pulling away, where he was the one chasing you, begging for your attention. Each time he woke, his heart pounded in his chest, his sheets twisted and damp with sweat and maybe some white substance. He hated the way you had wormed your way into his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop it. The more he tried to push you away, the more you consumed him.

Soon, Taehyung found himself driving by your apartment, lingering outside the places you used to wait for him, hoping for a glimpse of the woman he had once been so desperate to escape.

The tables had turned, and now, it was Taehyung who was haunted by the obsession that had once belonged to her.

But except it wasn't just a normal obsession, it was intense. Seems like you didn't know about officer Kim Taehyung at all.

next part

Did you guys like it?! Yandere Taehyung is about to take place in part 2!!.

Show some love and appreciation, it'll make me happier 💕

Tag list : @hoji-licious , @tan-veee , @illnevertrustmyselfagain , @tae-n-u

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jimxnslight · 8 months ago

Note

Hey. Love your works. How are you?

For the prompts: 19. If you are okay with it, reading struggling after SA and finding it hard to tell taehyung about it ( only if you are ok with it)

Why Won’t You Let Me Help You? | KTH

Pairing: lawyer boyfriend!Taehyung x reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sexual Assault (i.e. slapping, groping), accidental minor injury, some blood

A/N: so um did I say max 1k for the drabbles? I didn't, right? I don’t remember saying that at all, nope, not at all… okay so maybe I went a little overboard with this but in my defence this is a pretty heavy topic and I didn’t wanna just breeze over it like it was nothing. So I present to you this supersized drabble

You never think it will happen to you.

Sure, you’ve heard gruesomely detailed cases about women getting assaulted all the time on the news. You’ve read horrifying stories on Reddit of men committing atrocities against the opposite gender. You’ve even witnessed your own friend be catcalled on the bus during one of your girls' nights out. But you never think it will happen to you.

Until one day it does.

Until one day a man double your age grabs you while you're walking down the familiar hallway of your workplace. Until one day you’re being dragged into an empty meeting room before you can even think of screaming and shoved against the wall while your arms are restrained by hands that feel like they were made of iron. Until one day you have this man telling you how long he’s been waiting to get you alone, how annoying it has been to have had to hold back because of your “stupid boyfriend.”

You remember struggling at first, desperate to get away from a distant nightmare that had become reality, desperate to get this man as far away from you as humanly possible, but his next action had stopped you in your tracks.

“Shut up,” he had snapped, and a sharp crack had sounded as his palm came in contact with your cheek. It shocked your senses, the fact that you’d been slapped in the building you had felt so comfortable working in for years, the fact that you had been so easily overcome.

The realisation of how helpless you truly were in that moment seemed to strike you harder than any slap, the thought so jarring that you slowly felt the fight begin to drain from your limbs, fear settling to lock them in place instead. You couldn’t move, could barely even breathe, and you knew it had nothing to do with the steely grip the man had on you to keep you from running. Your strength was nothing in the face of his, and he seemed so angry and determined that you feared he might actually break your arms in a fit of rage if you tried to oppose him.

You think that was when the numbness had begun to set in, because you couldn't remember feeling a stinging sensation on your cheek, the one you’re supposed to feel when a person is struck. In fact, you couldn’t remember feeling anything at all, even when you had watched the man’s hands roam over your chest and back greedily. Why hadn’t you screamed? Or cried? Or felt anything that wasn’t nothing at all?

That dazed state hadn’t dissipated even when the door to the meeting room had burst open to reveal your boyfriend’s friend and your co-worker, Jungkook, who had only taken a moment to process the situation before he had shoved the guy off of you and landed a harsh punch against his cheek.

You couldn’t remember what happened next. One second you were watching Jungkook angrily ask the man what he thought he was doing and then the next second you were standing here, staring blankly at the door to Taehyung’s familiar apartment. You felt like you were in a dream, everything surrounding you hazy and intangible as you watched your shaking fingers pull your keys from your pocket and unlock the door just like you always did.

You were immediately greeted with the sound of the living room TV, and then the sight of your boyfriend stretched over the couch, two case files strewn out on the wooden coffee table before him as his attention jumped from the files to the series playing on the TV.

At the sound of the door he turned to glance at you, a boxy smile overtaking his features.

“Hey, you’re back early,” he noted, his attention returning to the files, “how was work?”

It took a second for you to process the question, partly because the sight of his refined eyes and dark brown hair felt grounding and partly because that grounding effect seemed to tug at your hazy mind, attempting to pull you out of this thick fog you found yourself swimming in. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that every time you felt yourself drifting away from the fog you could start to feel that man’s hands back on your body, as if they had been dipped in permanent ink and he had smeared it all over your skin. It made you feel dirty. It made you feel desperate to scrub it all off in the shower.

But you couldn’t seem to get yourself to move towards the bathroom, too stuck in this autopilot mode that your mind seemed to cling to desperately to feign some form of ignorance. You watched yourself, as if you were some kind of spectator in your own body, walk into the kitchen just as you always did when you got back from work. As if following your daily routine would erase any remnant of the last hour from your memory.

“It was fine,” you answered, your monotonous tone catching Taehyung’s attention. This time he gave you a sympathetic look as you mindlessly began pulling things out of the cabinets and fridge, his own hand moving to grab the remote and turn off the television.

“Ah, I guess night shift isn’t exactly what you were expecting it to be…” he shook his head, misinterpreting the situation. He pushed himself off the sofa and began walking towards your form, “but it was only your first day, I’m sure it’ll get better as time passes.”

You quietly placed a head of lettuce - you don’t remember how it got in your hand - on a cutting board, while your other hand grabbed a knife. You had no clue what you were doing, no idea why you were cutting a head of lettuce right now, but you did know that you couldn’t look at Taehyung. Every time you did you could feel yourself slipping out of the daze that seemed to be keeping you together in front of him, could feel those hands groping at your body again.

Taehyung stepped beside you as he leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and an encouraging look on his face, “and even if it does end up sucking, your manager did say the switch was temporary. You’ll be back on the dayshift in no time, trust me.”

Your silence continued, Taehyung’s words flying over your head as you focused on keeping your erratic breathing levelled and your hands steady. You felt like a bomb, the pressure building and building and building until it could no longer be contained by the numbing of your mind and explode all over the place. You didn’t want to fall apart in front of him.

“Hey,” he said, shifting so that he wasn’t leaning against the counter anymore and instead facing you with one hand against the counter, “did something happen? You don’t need my help with suing anyone, do you?”

He’d added that last sentence to lighten the mood, but when you didn’t answer him he couldn't hide his worry. His tone dipped as he tried to get your attention, which was still on that head of lettuce. You tightened your grip on it, trying to hide the evident tremor in your fingers.

“Y/N? Come on, say something. Was it really that stressful today?”

You took a shaky breath, “no, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not, you’re clearly stressed over something. We can go out somewhere if you want? Or we can order takeout and watch movies here… Just ask me anything and we’ll do it.”

The pressure was nipping away at your composure, so much so that the feeling of your throat closing up barred you from answering him. You could feel a hand on your chest, another at your hip; there was one sliding up your back, one closing around your neck. He was everywhere. You closed your eyes. It was too much. You just wanted it all to stop.

You just wanted it all to stop.

“Y/N!”

Taehyung suddenly lunged for the knife just as a sharp pain shot from your hand, his fingers wrapping around the handle to pull it out of your grasp. There was a small trail of blood dripping from the new cut on your palm.

“You’re bleeding,” he announced, dropping the knife back onto the cutting board before quickly opening the medicine cabinet to bring out some band-aids, “it’s not too deep thank god, but try to staunch the bleeding with those paper towels just in case.”

But when Taehyung turned around he found you frozen in place, gaze hazily fixed on your bleeding palm. You tried to focus on that pain instead, hoping it could help you balance your breathing and stabilise your shaky arms and stop the hands. Those hands, that wouldn’t stop grabbing at your skin over and over and over.

Taehyung, more confused than ever, walked over to where you were standing and grabbed a couple of paper towels, “please say something, Y/N, you’re worrying me.”

He reached over to wet the paper towel before cleaning your palm, and it was only then that he felt you trembling. His brows furrowed as he reached over once again, this time to place a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“God, you’re shaking-”

But the moment his fingers connected with your shoulder you flinched. It wasn’t a small reaction either. It was the kind that had you snapping backwards, your hand smacking against a pan that went crashing to the floor while your head bumped against an overhead cabinet. Taehyung’s eyes were wide, his entire body freezing as he watched you cave in on yourself.

“Please…” you said, unable to produce anything more than a whisper, “please, don’t touch me.”

A look of hurt flashed on his face, and you felt awful for causing it. But, up until now, the touches of that man’s hand had been ghostly, merely whisps brushing against your skin, until Taehyung’s hand had made contact with you and suddenly they felt too real. It was as if you couldn’t differentiate his touch from that man’s, and that thought only pained you further, so much so that you felt your eyes begin to water.

Taehyung tried to take a step towards you, but you moved backwards further, causing him to pause.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” He pleaded now, begging you to shed some light on the situation. You looked so pained, he couldn’t bear to see you like this, “please baby, why won’t you let me help you?”

You didn’t want to break down in front of him, didn’t want him to see you like this: so weak, so vulnerable, so incapable of pulling yourself together.

And yet, at the soft tone of his voice, that’s exactly what Taehyung witnessed.

The tears came first, heavy as they slid down your cheeks before sobs began to rack your frame. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, causing you to drop to your knees as you began to cry into your hands. You’d tried so hard to keep yourself together, and yet here you were now, unravelling entirely at Taehyung’s feet.

Silently, he walked to where you were bent over, slowly crouching so that he was on the same level as you. His hands were itching to pull you into his arms and hold you while you sobbed, his heart aching to lessen even a sliver of whatever you were going through in that moment, but after your earlier reaction to his touch he decided not to push it. Instead, he stayed crouched before you, dropping soft words of comfort to let you know that you weren’t alone, he was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Eventually the story began to drop from your lips. You started from the very beginning, mentioning every detail of the experience as Taehyung struggled to keep his anger at bay the longer he listened. You went farther than that too, admitting to just how helpless and vulnerable you had felt in that moment and wondering how you were ever going to feel comfortable in your workplace again.

By the time you’d finished the anger and pain he felt was straining his chest, the urge to pull you closer reaching an unbearable level.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked instead, knowing that getting angry and emotional now wouldn’t help you in any way. Right now it was his turn to stay strong, so that he could be that pillar of support for you during a time like this.

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, sniffling while your hands tried to dry your cheeks. Taehyung’s gaze softened at how defeated you sounded.

“Y/N, look at me,” he said, causing your damp eyes to meet his, “none of this is your fault, you understand me? What that man did to you was wrong, and he deserves to rot in hell for it. I’ll make sure of that if you’ll let me.”

Taehyung shifted forward, taking care not to touch you as he placed his hand on the floor in front of you, “and you’re going to get through this. I know it hurts right now. I know you feel helpless and vulnerable, it’s normal to feel that way. But I know how strong you are, I know you will get through this. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, that you can count on. I promise.”

Even though you felt embarrassed, letting it all out to Taehyung and knowing he would still be by your side no matter what felt like a huge relief. Perhaps a part of you had been afraid of what his reaction would be, which was stupid considering how many sexual assault victims you knew he’d defended before in court. But there had still been that little “what if…” taunting you in the back of your mind. You were glad that thought had been shot down now entirely.

You sniffed as your gaze dropped to his hand, still placed on the floor in front of your knees. You lifted your own, extending it until you hesitantly brushed your fingers over the back of his palm. You were relieved when your body didn’t recoil or flinch, relieved that you could lace your fingers in between his without any bad feelings.

Perhaps there still was hope for you. Perhaps you weren’t entirely broken.

“Y/N?” Taehyung whispered, squeezing your hand reassuringly in his. You looked up at him in question.

“Can I hug you?”

Even though your nod was quick, because just the thought of him was comforting, you appreciated it when he slowly pulled you towards him, making sure that if you needed to back out at any time it was okay. But by the time he had pulled you halfway towards himself, it was you who threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his shirt, Taehyung’s arms immediately encircling your form. His hands stroked your back softly, nothing like that man’s hands in the slightest.

The two of you stayed like that for so long that by the time Taehyung spoke, you could feel your leg start to cramp from the hard floor and awkward position.

“So,” he said, stroking your hair gently, “what do you want to do now?”

He wanted you to say the words so badly, to tell him to help you sue every last penny out of that man before throwing him in the worst jail Taehyung had heard of. He was more than ready to, the anger from before slithering back into his chest like an enraged snake. He wasn’t a lawyer for nothing, and he’d show that man exactly what he was capable of.

But you surprised him when you said none of that and instead said, “I want to take a shower.”

He chuckled, although it was more bittersweet knowing that a lot of women tended to feel “dirty” after being assaulted; he’d seen a lot of that in his line of work, and the thought of you feeling that way hurt his heart.

“Do you want me to join you?” He asked, pulling the two of you from the ground, though his arms stayed fixed around your waist.

You shook your head slowly, hoping he wouldn’t take any offence. You just felt like you needed a moment to yourself to sort some things out in your head, but Taehyung was quick to nod, instead placing a light kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, just call if you need me, okay? In the meantime I’ll order some takeout,” he smiled, showcasing that beautifully boxy grin that you could stare at for hours if he let you. Taehyung was glad to see you give him a small smile of your own before you turned around and disappeared behind the doors to your shared bedroom.

The moment he heard the shower turn on, the sound of his phone going off made him flinch. He walked over to the coffee table and picked it up, brows furrowing when he saw Jungkook’s name displayed on the screen before immediately pressing the answer button.

“Hyung!” Jungkook yelled into the phone, his worry apparent, “is Y/N at your place?! I’ve been trying to find her for the last 30 minutes, but I think she left the building. There was this guy and I caught him trying to force himself on her, but after I shoved him away I turned around and she just disappeared. I-”

“Relax Jungkook,” Taehyung calmed him down, quickly explaining that you were at his place and everything was fine. But Jungkook being involved relieved Taehyung, because that meant he could trust him to be a credible witness and to send him some extra information.

“I need you to send me the details of the guy that hurt her,” Taehyung said, noticing the malice in his voice but not finding it in himself to care. His gaze dropped to the abandoned case files thrown across the coffee table, knowing that he’ll have to give most of his cases away if he wanted to spend as much time on yours as he wanted to.

Thankfully, Jungkook’s reply was immediate, “of course, anything you need.”

Taehyung smiled, not only because Jungkook was ready to help him defend you, but also for protecting you when he wasn’t there. If Jungkook hadn’t been there… well Taehyung didn’t want to think about it. A part of him thinks he might have actually been capable of committing murder.

He took a breath trying to steady himself, focusing instead on what was within his limits at the moment.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I’ll need your help if I want to make that man regret ever being born.”

#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung ff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #bts au fic #taehyung bts #bts fic #v x reader #bts v #taehyung x y/n #taehyung oneshot #prompt game #ask: prompt game

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dearjoons · 2 months ago

Text

☕️ BARISTA!TAEHYUNG HEADCANNONS

warnings: barista!taehyung x customer!reader. shy, introverted, & mysterious tae. blue haired tae. fluff fluff FLUFF

lulu speaks: welcome to my very first tae au!! heehee blue bwl tae speaks to me. i had to do this for my own sanity.

꩜ barista!taehyung who works the earliest shift management lets him take; he opens the café while the city’s still half-asleep.

꩜ barista!taehyung who wears oversized cream sweaters and plain, bleak t-shirts under his black apron. his hair, though? bright blue. the color is so vibrant you’d think he stole hair dye from an emo.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t talk much other than the usual customer service lines. you don’t know if he’s shy or just introverted, but it adds so much more to the mystery that is blue barista boy.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t mean to write “you look like an angel” in your drink. it just sorta…happened. he looks up and realizes you’re already walking away, and his heart stops. he debates chasing you to say it was a mistake—but doesn’t. you smile at the cup. he knows he’s doomed.

꩜ barista!taehyung who thinks about it all night. lays awake, replaying it like a broken record. why would you smile like that, why would he write that, what if you think he likes you? sure, he does, but you don’t need to know that.

꩜ barista!taehyung who takes people aback when he does speak. his voice is deep, slow, and unexpectedly smooth. customers get flustered. he pretends not to notice. (he totally notices. and it’s his favorite part of the day).

꩜ barista!taehyung who blushes easily. pink ears, pink cheeks, glancing away when complimented. he covers it up with polite & humble dismissal, then by pretending to be busy cleaning spotless countertops.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t flirt, because he doesn’t know how to. what does know how to do is stare—and stare, he does.

꩜ barista!taehyung who catches himself watching you in between customers.

꩜ barista!taehyung who talks to the plants. there’s a pothos on the windowsill he named “minjun.” he tells minjun about entitled and annoying customers, but also about the cute one who ordered a vanilla latte and made him nervous (yes, you).

꩜ barista!taehyung who calls you “miss” in the softest voice every time, even though he clearly knows your name.

꩜ barista!taehyung who practices saying your name when no one’s around. quietly, gently, like a song lyric. just to hear how it sounds coming from him.

lulu speaks pt2: i’m sorry this is so short i ran out of ideas 💔💔💔

cai bot. masterlist. navigation.

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1343401 · 4 months ago

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echos of the sea - chapter eight

pairing: bts x reader

status: ongoing

word count: 15.4 k

warnings: depictions of violence, kidnapping, family trauma, insecurities, mentions of blood, sexual assault, attempted rape, angst (jk is going through it), like partial drowning?, substance use (drinking rum/wine), language

prev | next | m.list

the shirt is too big.

it slips past her shoulder, the fabric loose against her skin, drowning her frame in unfamiliar softness. it smells of salt, of the sea, of something faintly familiar, something she can’t quite place.

it’s better than the dress, at least.

her ruined gown lays discarded on the floor, stiff with dried seawater, torn from work, stained with grime. she doesn’t regret shedding it, but the vulnerability that lingers nags at the edges of her exhaustion.

still, her limbs are heavy, her thoughts dulled, weighed down by the long hours of survival. the flickering lantern by her bedside casts a dim glow, shadows stretching long across the wooden walls. the ship rocks gently beneath her feet, the distant murmur of waves lulling her senses.

as she goes to grab the pants she pauses, just for a second, to let herself breathe.

until she hears it.

slow, deliberate footsteps. each measured, unhurried, carrying the weight of someone who knows exactly where they’re going. someone who isn’t searching, isn’t wandering.

someone who means to be here.

they stop just outside her door.

jiah goes rigid, breath locking in her throat, blood roaring in her ears. her fingers tighten around the too-long sleeves of the borrowed shirt, her knuckles going white.

the smell that follows burns her nose.

thick. acrid.

wrong.

the scent of rum and sweat clings to the air, heavy, suffocating.

jiah’s stomach churns.

her body locks up.

slowly, she turns.

the door is open,

and a man is standing in the doorway.

his silhouette is unsteady in the candlelight, swaying slightly, but his stance is deliberate. he isn’t lost. he meant to be here.

scraggly hair falls in greasy strands over his forehead. his clothes are stiff with salt, stained with something darker. his face is hollowed, sharp angles made sharper by the smirk curling his lips.

his eyes gleam with something dark. something that makes her blood run cold.

jiah doesn’t recognize him.

but the way he looks at her, like he’s already decided something makes her skin crawl.

"didn’t think we had any new passengers," he slurs, stepping inside.

his movements are sluggish, weighted by drink, but deliberate. too deliberate.

her pulse hammers. she takes a step back, her bare feet pressing against the cool wooden floor.

"get out."

her voice is steadier than she feels.

the man grins, showing yellowed teeth, a laugh rasping from his throat. "c’mon now, no need to be unfriendly."

another step.

too close.

jiah's breath catches.

her fingers twitch at her sides as her eyes dart around the small room, searching desperately for something, anything, to put between them. her fingers brush against a wooden crate, but before she can reach for it

his hand darts out, clamping around her wrist.

heat and filth and calloused fingers dig into her skin.

jiah sucks in a sharp breath, panic flaring in her chest like an open flame.

the moment his fingers close around her wrist, a sickening chill bolts through jiah’s spine.

his grip is rough, calloused from years at sea, the ridges of his fingers pressing against her skin like sandpaper. his palm is damp with sweat, the moisture clinging to her like something vile, something she can’t shake off. the stink of rum is thick, seeping from his pores, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean air and the musk of unwashed clothes.

the pressure around her wrist tightens. firm. unyielding.

a silent promise that he isn't planning on letting go.

panic slams into her chest, cold and sharp, but she tamps it down. forces herself to breathe through it.

her muscles coil. she tries to jerk away, twisting her arm, nails digging into her own palm as she wrenches back.

"i said, don’t touch me."

he only chuckles. low. throaty. his breath is hot, humid with liquor, fanning against her cheek in waves.

he takes another step closer.

"c’mon now," he murmurs, voice thick with drink, words slurring together like tar. "no need to be so unfriendly, girl."

jiah’s stomach twists, bile rising in her throat.

her heart hammers so hard she swears he can hear it.

too close.

his presence swallows the already small space, pressing in from all sides. the scent of salt, sweat, and alcohol clings to him like rot, settling into the cracks of the room, suffocating.

he looms over her, broad shoulders casting long shadows in the dim candlelight. the flickering glow from the lantern plays against the deep lines of his face, accentuating the hollowness of his cheeks, the sharp curve of his mouth as he leers down at her.

his eyes glint.

dark. hungry.

this is bad.

jiah’s free hand fumbles behind her, fingers splaying over the rough wooden surface of the crate, searching. for anything. a weapon. a barrier. something to put between them.

but the room is too bare.

and he has her cornered.

her nails scrape against the wood, desperation creeping in like a rising tide, but she forces steel into her voice, forces her expression to stay flat, to not let him see the tremor threatening to slip through.

"what do you want?" she asks, forcing steel into her voice, refusing to let him hear the tremble threatening to slip through.

he smiles. grins. slow, knowing.

"just came to welcome you proper he drawls, the words a mockery of something polite.

his grip tightens.

he tugs.

pulling her forward.

jiah stumbles, a sharp gasp slipping past her lips. her stomach lurches at the sudden loss of footing, the dizzying, stomach-churning sensation of being yanked off balance.

no.

panic claws at her throat, icy and suffocating. her pulse pounds, hammering against her ribs like a war drum. she plants her feet, shoving back, twisting her wrist in his hold, but his grip is ironclad. unyielding, as if he’s done this before, as if he knows exactly how to keep someone from slipping away.

"let me go."

"relax," he coaxes, his voice syrupy and sweet, a mockery of comfort. as if they’re old friends. as if this is normal. his other hand lifts, fingers brushing the ends of her hair, slow and deliberate.

too familiar. too much. too close.

"you’re a pretty thing. wouldn’t want you feeling lonely out here."

his voice is smooth, too smooth, but beneath it lies something sickening. something that makes her skin prickle with revulsion.

jiah recoils, bile rising in her throat, hot and acidic.

"get away from me," she spits, yanking her arm again.

but he holds fast.

his fingers tighten, the pressure biting into her skin. she feels the edges of his nails pressing in, little crescents digging into the delicate skin of her wrist.

a warning.

a threat.

his smile never falters. if anything, it deepens, stretching across his face like a wound, his eyes gleaming with something dark. he enjoys this. the struggle. the panic. the fire burning in her eyes.

her breath shudders, shallow and quick, heart slamming against her ribs.

she can’t let this happen. she won’t let this happen.

she plants her feet. shoves back. putting every ounce of strength she has into it, her muscles straining, her body coiled tight like a spring.

but the pirate barely stumbles.

his grip never loosens.

his amusement only grows.

"feisty," he muses, head tilting, his smile curling at the edges, sharp as a blade. mocking. enjoying this.

"i like that."

the air feels too thick. the room too small. her pulse is a frantic, caged thing, hammering in her throat.

her free hand scrambles behind her again, fingers searching, desperate, nails scraping against wood, finding nothing but empty space and splinters.

her chest tightens.

think, think, think.

but panic is white-hot, numbing her thoughts, making it hard to focus on anything but the feel of him. the weight of his grip. the heat of his breath, thick with the stench of rum, fanning against her skin in waves.

the door is still open.

scream.

but the air feels caught in her throat, a choked, suffocating knot of fear and nausea.

she has to do something.

his fingers slide lower, brushing against her forearm, slow and deliberate.

jiah snaps.

her knee jerks up, aiming for his gut, but he’s faster, sidestepping just enough that she barely clips him. he only laughs, like this is some sort of game.

"easy now, dove," he chides, voice thick with amusement.

he wrenches her closer.

her balance wavers.

the breath is knocked from her lungs.

her stomach twists.

no, no, no.

a sound builds in her throat, raw and instinctive.

a scream.

it rips through the tight space, sharp and desperate, slicing through the thick, stagnant air like a blade. it’s loud, louder than she thought she could manage, but she doesn’t care.

someone will hear. someone has to hear.

the pirate curses, a vicious snarl tearing from his throat as his grip tightens like a vice, his other hand shooting up, smothering the sound before it can fully escape.

his palm is rough against her lips, pressing hard, forcing her head back as he leans in close.

too close.

"bad idea, sweetheart," he hisses, voice dropping into something low, something ugly, something that makes her stomach churn with a different kind of fear.

his breath is thick with rum, warm and sticky against her cheek, clinging to her skin like a stain she can’t scrub away.

"real bad idea."

he drags her closer, pulling her flush against him, forcing her to feel the full weight of his presence, the strength coiled in his limbs.

no, no, no, no

jiah thrashes.

her pulse hammers, frantic against his palm, her body twisting, writhing, every muscle in her screaming move, move, move,

but he’s stronger.

his fingers dig in, nails biting against the delicate skin of her wrist, her jaw, her throat.

her mind races. searching, scrambling, desperate,

think, damn it. think.

but panic is clouding everything, choking out rational thought, drowning her in a suffocating wave of fear and revulsion.

her breath shudders.

no one’s coming.

no one’s,

a noise.

a shift in the hall.

footsteps.

the heavy, deliberate thud of boots against the wooden floor, moving closer, steady and slow.

someone’s coming.

hoseok moves through the dimly lit halls, boots silent against the worn wooden planks. the ship creaks with the steady sway of the sea, a familiar rhythm that once lulled him into a false sense of peace. he’s long since tuned it out.

but his mind is far too loud to ignore.

he tells himself he’s heading back to his quarters. that’s all. just another night, just another step closer to sleep.

he isn’t thinking about her.

he isn’t wondering why she has everyone so goddamn wrapped around her finger.

and yet, her presence lingers, like the salt in the air, impossible to shake.

the siren, a creature that should have cared for nothing but the hunger in his gut, the thrill of dragging his prey beneath the waves wasn’t supposed to care for anything other than his own hunger, yet jimin had looked at her with something close to recognition.

jungkook never says much, rarely ever did. but hoseok saw the way he carried himself after she arrived. saw the tension coiling tight in his shoulders, the bristle of something unspoken, something restless. fascination. wariness.

even namjoon, their captain. the most ruthless man on this ship, the one who held the crew in an iron grip, the man hoseok had sworn loyalty to, had carved his name into the seas. and yet, even he was watching her.

but why?

what the hell made her so special?

a simple palace maid. a girl who should have broken beneath the weight of this ship before she even got on it. a girl who had no place among men like them, and yet, she was still standing. still fighting.

the thought gnaws at him, irritation curling in his gut.

he doesn’t like unanswered questions. doesn’t like things he can’t figure out.

even his own brother seems to be under her curse.

seokjin.

his jaw tightens, fingers twitching at his side. his breath pulls in slow, measured.

he shouldn’t care. he shouldn’t give a damn what his brother does, who he’s interested in, what he’s chasing after. but the moment he had heard jungkook mention seokjin’s interest in her, the irritation burning beneath his ribs curdled into something sharper.

a bitter taste lingers on his tongue.

of course seokjin would get involved. of course, the golden son, the perfect prince, the one who had always been chosen would have his hands in this too.

the very thought of him makes hoseok’s jaw tighten, his grip clenching into fists at his sides.

his thoughts darken, pulling him back into the shadows of a past he swore he left behind.

he doesn’t regret running.

doesn’t regret the night he vanished from the castle, slipping into the streets like a ghost. doesn’t regret the salt in his lungs, the bruises on his ribs from the first brawl he fought aboard this ship. doesn’t regret choosing a life of freedom over a cage lined with gold.

but sometimes, late at night, when the past curls around his throat like a noose, when old wounds ache like phantom limbs, he wonders if seokjin ever regretted not coming after him.

if his so-called perfect brother had ever hesitated.

had ever felt guilt.

hoseok scoffs under his breath.

no.

he knew the answer to that.

seokjin was the golden son, the one their father shaped into a ruler. hoseok, on the other hand, had been nothing more than an afterthought. the bruises on his skin, the sharp words thrown his way, the weight of expectations he was never meant to meet. he had always been a placeholder, a scapegoat for their father’s disappointment.

he had been the storm. seokjin had been the calm.

the only time his brother had ever looked at him, truly looked at him, was the night he left.

but even then, seokjin hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

hoseok exhales sharply, shaking the thought away.

his fingers loosen, tension easing from his shoulders as he rounds the corner. but just as he’s about to push forward, something shifts.

his steps slow.

his brows knit together.

the door ahead is open.

not just any door.

hers.

his pulse gives an uneasy kick, something instinctive settling in his gut, something sharp that he doesn’t like.

the ship is full of men who don’t care much for boundaries, but still, she's an outsider, a curiosity. although he doesn’t know what the hell she really is, he knows one thing for certain, she doesn’t belong here.

and that means she’s vulnerable.

his body moves before his mind catches up.

hoseok steps closer, silent as a shadow.

the door isn’t open wide, just a sliver, just enough for the dim lantern light to bleed into the hall, flickering unevenly with the sway of the ship.

just enough for him to catch the low murmur of voices.

no.

not voices.

one voice.

her voice.

strained. tight. edged with something unmistakable.

fear.

hoseok hears movement from in the room. the sound is small, nearly swallowed by the steady groan of the ship, but he hears the scuff of boots dragging across the floor, a sharp intake of breath, quick and started, and then a thud.

something, someone, slamming against the wooden wall.

his pulse spikes. heat flashes through his veins, instinct rearing its head before his mind can fully process it. his fingers tighten, curling around the worn leather of his hilt, the familiar weight of steel sliding free as he draws his blade without thinking.

then she screams.

it’s not loud. not the kind of scream that would wake the whole damn ship, but it doesn’t have to be.

it’s panicked, ragged, real.

hoseok doesn’t think.

he moves.

his body propels forward before he can fully register it, a force driven by something deeper than reason. the door is only barely ajar, but it doesn’t matter, he shoves it open, the wood crashing against the wall with a deafening bang that drowns out the next choked sound from inside.

for a fraction of a second, everything is frozen.

the dim lantern flickers, casting jagged shadows across the room, distorting the shapes within.

his eyes land on the corner of the room. he sees jiah only half-dressed, one arm pinned behind her as she struggles against the man holding her. her hair is disheveled, strands clinging to the damp sheen of sweat on her skin. her chest heaves with each ragged breath, panic raw in her wide, dark eyes.

and the culprit, a scraggly excuse for a pirate. his grip is a vice around her wrist, his other hand crushing over her mouth. his clothes are rumpled, stained with rum and salt, the stink of him so thick it nearly overpowers the sea air creeping through the cracks of the ship. his face, smeared with grease, with something uglier lurking beneath his leer, twists into something between shock and irritation as he registers the intrusion.

hoseok sees the way his fingers dig into her skin, how his knuckles whiten with pressure.

sees the way jiah trembles, the way she thrashes despite knowing she’s overpowered, despite the fact that her struggle only makes the pirate’s grin widen.

sees the way her bare shoulders are rigid, the curve of her collarbone rising and falling with her frantic breaths, the unmistakable fear bleeding through her usually sharp features.

and something in him snaps.

the cold, coiled thing in his chest erupts.

hoseok doesn’t hesitate.

his blade is in his grip before he’s even aware of drawing it. the polished steel catches the flickering light, a silver flash as he moves forward fast.

the pirate barely has time to react before hoseok is on him, before the tip of the blade is pressing against the exposed column of his throat, before the amused glint in his eyes morphs into something resembling realization, fear.

“get your hands off her.”

his voice is low, edged with something lethal.

the pirate’s breath stutters, his drunken haze clearing just enough for him to grasp the danger of the situation. but he hesitates, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second, his pride outweighing his sense of self-preservation.

hoseok doesn’t give him time to decide.

his wrist shifts, the blade biting just enough into flesh to draw a bead of blood.

the pirate freezes, his grip on jiah loosening.

and hoseok watches, expression void of anything but cold detachment, as the bastard stumbles back, hands raised in a pathetic display of surrender.

“i—”

“out.”

the single syllable cracks through the air, leaving no room for argument.

the pirate swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips, eyes flicking between hoseok’s blade and the sharp edge of his gaze.

and then, without another word, he runs.

hoseok watches him go, chest rising and falling with steady, measured breaths.

the door slams shut in the pirate’s wake, the echo of his retreating footsteps fading into the hallway. the room is silent now, safe for the ragged pull of jiah’s breath, sharp and uneven, like she’s struggling to get enough air.

hoseok doesn’t move.

his grip on his dagger is still tight, fingers curled around the hilt like he’s debating whether or not to chase after the bastard and finish the job. his pulse is still spiked, a slow, burning heat simmering beneath his skin. his mind is racing, not with thoughts of the pirate, he's gone, he’s handled, but of the girl standing before him.

jiah hasn’t moved either.

she’s backed against the wooden wall, the flickering lanternlight casting jagged shadows over her form. her arms are wrapped around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of the shirt that hangs loosely off one shoulder, and hoseok belatedly realizes it’s not hers.

it’s too big. the fabric is worn, the collar stretched. it drapes over her small frame in a way that looks familiar, he realizes with a slow creeping recognition. too familiar.

his eyes narrow.

he knows those clothes.

the fabric is rough but sturdy, the sleeves rolled up at the cuffs, the collar fraying slightly at the edges. he’s seen them a hundred times before, draped over broad shoulders, smelling of salt and ink and something distinctly him.

namjoon.

his captain’s shirt.

for some reason, the realization stirs something in him, something sharp and unpleasant, something he doesn’t like examining too closely.

but right now, that doesn’t matter.

what matters is the way jiah looks at him.

not angry. not sharp-tongued. not filled with that usual fire he’s come to expect from her.

but afraid.

and hoseok doesn’t like that.

he doesn’t like the way she’s trembling, doesn’t like the way her wide, dark eyes are still locked on the closed door as if expecting the pirate to return.

"he's gone," hoseok says, voice quieter than usual.

jiah doesn’t respond.

she still hasn’t moved from the wall. her chest is still rising and falling too fast, her breaths too shallow. her fingers are still curled into the fabric of her borrowed shirt, white-knuckled, like she’s trying to ground herself.

hoseok exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before taking a single step forward.

jiah flinches.

his stomach twists.

he shouldn’t care.

this girl, this mouthy, insufferable, stubborn girl, has been nothing more than a thorn in his side since the moment she got on this ship.

but right now, she looks... small. fragile in a way that she has never allowed herself to be.

she shifts, arms wrapping around herself as if she can feel the weight of his stare.

her hands are still trembling. barely, but enough that he notices.

and god help him, he hates seeing it.

he clicks his tongue, gaze flicking away as he mutters, "sit down before you pass out or something."

jiah blinks, like she’s just remembering where she is. her lips part, like she wants to say something, maybe snap back at him like usual, but then, hesitantly, she moves.

hoseok watches as she takes slow, careful steps toward the bed, sinking onto the edge with all the grace of someone who’s still not sure their legs will hold them.

she exhales shakily, dropping her head into her hands.

hoseok exhales too.

this isn’t his problem.

he knows that.

but still, he finds himself moving toward her.

"you good?"

it’s an awkward question, too blunt, too stiff, but it’s the closest thing to concern he’s willing to offer.

jiah lifts her head. her eyes flick up to meet his, something unreadable swimming behind them, something almost vulnerable.

then, quietly, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear it, she says, "wait… thank you."

hoseok stills.

he’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t that.

jiah, thanking him?

it feels foreign. weird.

he scoffs, shifting on his feet. "don’t make it a habit," he mutters, before turning toward the door.

but just before he leaves, he lingers, just for a second.

then, without another word, he slips out into the hall, closing the door softly behind him.

for a moment hoseok just stands there, his heart pounding with the weight of unspoken words, a silent battle raging in his chest. as if the world around him has suddenly become too much to bear, he slides down the wall, back hitting the cold wood, knees drawing up as he exhales a slow, measured breath.

hoseok knows won’t sleep tonight.

not with thoughts of his brother on his mind.

not when every time his eyes close, he sees jiah’s scared shaking figure.

he can’t.

especially when there’s still the risk of some other drunken pirate stumbling in where they don’t belong. so he stays, keeping watch, keeping her safe in the only way he can.

the hours stretch on, the lantern light flickering, shadows shifting with the rhythm of the waves. and just before dawn, when the sky outside begins its slow bleed into pale blue, he finally pushes himself to his feet and walks away.

jiah stares at the ceiling, breaths coming too fast, too shallow, even as she tries to force them into something steady. her body won’t stop trembling. her skin feels too tight, too raw, like she’s still being touched, like she’s still trapped beneath a grip she couldn’t break.

her wrist aches. not sharp, not unbearable, but there. pulsing beneath the surface, a reminder she can’t shake. she knows what it’ll look like tomorrow, faint bruises blooming in the shape of fingers, proof of how easily she had been overpowered.

she should be used to this.

well not this. not being backed into a corner with nowhere to run, with someone pressing too close, with real fear curling in her stomach like something alive.

but the rest? the looks? the casual touches that lingered a second too long? the comments slipped between smiles, low enough that they could be passed off as jokes?

she’s been dealing with that since she was fifteen. since the first time she stepped behind the counter at the diner, since the first time an older man called her sweetheart with something knowing in his eyes.

she learned how to handle it. how to force a laugh, how to pull away just before they got too close. how to fight back when they tried anyway.

but tonight, she had fought.

and it hadn’t mattered.

her stomach twists, nausea curling at the edges of her ribs.

this can’t happen again. she won’t let it.

her fingers curl into the fabric of the shirt she’s wearing, twisting it between trembling hands, clutching it like an anchor. it smells different. not like sweat and rum and something else. something cleaner, something vaguely like the ocean, like parchment left out in the sun, like,

she doesn’t know.

but it grounds her.

keeps her from spiraling. keeps her from drowning in the weight of what could have happened, what almost happened, what might still happen if she doesn’t figure out how to survive this place.

her chest rises, falls.

she can still feel his eyes on her. not his. not the pirate who had tried to…

the other one.

the one who had stormed into the room like a force of nature, like he had been ready to carve through bone if she had been even a second later in screaming.

his face flashes in her mind. sharp, severe. eyes dark with something unreadable.

concern?

no.

he’s not the type to care.

but he had looked at her, really looked at her. not in amusement, not in irritation, not in cold disinterest, the way he always does.

something had shifted.

something she doesn’t want to think about.

because she’s read this before.

her stomach lurches.

this is his moment.

the point where it begins.

she remembers this scene. not with her in it, not with her trapped in the middle of it, but with yiseo.

yiseo, terrified, shaken, the victim of a similar attack. and the one who had saved her,

jiah goes rigid.

no.

her breath stutters.

it was him. it was hoseok.

the pirate with a name like a curse. the one no one crossed, no one questioned. the one she had been arguing with this morning, tossing back sharp words like knives, ignoring the warning in his eyes.

him.

a ruthless bastard with a reputation steeped in blood and betrayal.

and in the book, this had been where fans said he started falling.

for yiseo.

does that mean now for her.

jiah never shipped the two but the way he, no hoseok, looked at her,

the way his eyes peered into her soul, grounding her, making her feel not just comforted and safe but something else.

jiah’s hands tighten in the fabric, grip white-knuckled.

this can’t happen.

she won’t let it.

she can’t be yiseo.

and he can’t be him.

seokjin sits in his chambers, the weight of the night pressing against his shoulders. the glow of the candlelight flickers over the scattered parchment before him, maps, naval reports, letters from his council, all of it blending into an unfocused blur. his fingers drum absently against the polished wood of the desk, his other hand wrapped around the stem of a half drunk glass of wine, though he has long since lost the taste for it.

his robe hangs loosely off his frame, the silk cool against his skin, but there is no comfort in it. his mind is elsewhere. it has been elsewhere ever since she was taken.

the maid, jiah.

it’s infuriating how often she crosses his thoughts. even now, his eyes drift to the sea beyond his balcony, as if he might catch a glimpse of something, of her. but there is nothing. only endless, shifting waters stretching far beyond his reach.

his jaw clenches.

where is she?

what have they done to her?

his stomach twists at the thought. the pirates were ruthless, but not without reason. they wouldn’t have taken her without a purpose. but what purpose could a maid serve to a pirate captain? seokjin has turned the question over and over in his mind, and none of the answers settle well.

his grip tightens around the glass. the thought of her, helpless, surrounded by men with no morals, no honor, makes something coil deep in his gut, something raw and ugly.

she had been right in front of him.

the last time he had seen her, she had been standing on that balcony, the night air catching in her hair, her eyes unreadable as she looked at him. for a moment, he had thought he had felt,

but then the pirates had come.

his hand twitches. he can still feel the sting of his failure. he had fought, had drawn his blade and faced them without hesitation, but in the end, they had left him there, his sword knocked from his grasp, his dignity in the dirt. they had taken her, and there had been nothing he could do.

the second she was gone, it felt like something had ripped out of him.

he exhales sharply, trying to force the tension from his muscles, trying to think.

It was like the pirates were ghosts. no tracks, no trails, no patterns to follow. namjoon was too smart for that. and if seokjin couldn’t find him…

his teeth grind together.

then he’d have to draw him out.

he stops abruptly, pivoting on his heel. the guards stationed outside his chambers snap to attention, but he waves them off.

"fetch the council," he orders, his voice cold, decisive. "wake whoever you have to. i want a meeting now."

they don’t hesitate. they rush off, boots pounding against the stone.

seokjin inhales slowly, steadying himself.

if he can’t find her,

his jaw tightens.

then he’ll make sure she’s returned to him.

whatever it takes.

the council chambers are colder than usual, the stone walls offering little comfort against the morning chill. a fire crackles in the grand hearth, its glow casting long shadows over the faces of the gathered officials. the air is thick with the scent of parchment and ink, the weight of authority pressing down on the room like an iron hand.

seokjin stands at the head of the long table, hands braced against the polished wood, his gaze sharp as he watches the men shuffle in. most of them look weary, pulled from their sleep at his command, but he doesn’t care. there is no time for rest.

not while jiah is still out there.

"your highness," one of the older councilmen greets, bowing slightly before taking his seat. the others follow, their expressions varying from curiosity to concern.

seokjin doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. "any word?"

a silence stretches across the table, uneasy.

"no, your highness," another councilman finally speaks. "the waters have been quiet. no reported sightings of captain namjoon or his crew."

seokjin exhales slowly through his nose, frustration simmering just beneath his skin. "and the ships i sent?"

"still searching," the man replies, though he shifts slightly in his seat. "it will take time, prince seokjin. the seas are vast, and the pirates know how to hide."

seokjin clenches his jaw. time. how much of it had already slipped through his fingers? how much more could he afford to lose?

before he can push further, the doors to the chamber swing open once more.

"announcing his majesty, king taehwan, and her highness, princess yiseo."

seokjin straightens as the king steps inside, his presence commanding as ever, draped in the deep navy and gold of seohwa’s royal colors. yiseo follows closely behind, her gown pristine, her hair arranged in careful waves over her shoulder. she looks unbothered, a stark contrast to seokjin’s own restless energy.

"prince seokjin," king taehwan greets, his voice even. "i trust this morning finds you well."

"your majesty," seokjin replies, dipping his head in respect.

the king steps forward, settling into the chair at the table’s head. yiseo takes her seat beside him, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

"if this is about the wedding, rest assured, our fastest ships have already been sent out to gukseon and will arrive by nightfall."

seokjin’s fingers curl against the wood.

"unless, of course, you’re simply eager to see the preparations unfold, prince seokjin. i must say, your enthusiasm is quite admirable." the king continues, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"you mean your second fastest," he corrects, voice clipped. "because the first is supposed to be hunting down the pirates."

a beat of silence.

yiseo exhales, barely concealing her irritation. "seokjin—"

"no," he cuts in, eyes flashing. "tell me you didn’t pull resources from the search just to send out invitations."

"this isn’t just about invitations," yiseo says, her tone sharp. "this is about your duty, seokjin. our wedding."

"my duty?" he scoffs, pushing away from the table. "my duty is to my people. to ensuring the safety of this kingdom. not playing host to a ceremony when there is real work to be done."

yiseo stiffens, her lips pressing into a thin line. "and you think chasing after pirates is more important than securing an alliance?"

"i think retrieving someone stolen from this kingdom is more important," he snaps before he can stop himself.

the weight of the words settles over the room, heavy and unspoken.

yiseo’s brows furrow, and realization flickers across her features.

"this is about her, isn’t it?"

seokjin says nothing.

yiseo lets out a short, humorless laugh. "of course it is. you’re making a fool of yourself over a maid, seokjin."

"watch your tongue," he warns, low and dangerous.

"or what?" yiseo challenges, tilting her chin. "you’ll abandon your duty for her?" she shakes her head, exasperated. "this is ridiculous. you don’t even know where she is."

"not yet," he counters, voice cold. "but i will."

"and then what?" she presses. "you think she’ll be grateful? that she’ll come back and suddenly everything will change?"

seokjin doesn’t answer.

"you’re being reckless," yiseo mutters, her gaze hard. "and you’re going to cost this kingdom more than you realize."

"and you," seokjin returns, eyes dark, "are underestimating me."

silence falls between them, thick with unspoken tension.

the king, who has remained silent throughout their exchange, finally sighs. "enough."

both seokjin and yiseo fall quiet, though neither looks away.

"we will discuss this further when you have both cleared your heads," the king says, tone firm. "for now, let us proceed with matters that concern the entire kingdom."

seokjin exhales sharply, forcing himself to step back.

this isn’t over. not by a long shot.

jiah wakes to the sound of her door creaking open.

panic grips her instantly, sharp and suffocating, dragging her back to last night. her breath catches in her throat as she scrambles upright, hands fisting in the sheets, heart hammering against her ribs.

not again.

her pulse is a wild thing, her body coiled tight, bracing for

jungkook?

he stands in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim morning light, his dark hair tousled from sleep, his sharp gaze scanning the room before landing on her.

she exhales shakily, the tension in her shoulders loosening by a fraction. it’s absurd, really. she barely knows him. just a pirate. a stranger who helped steal her from what little she knew of this world. she shouldn’t feel anything close to relief at the sight of him.

and yet, she does.

jungkook doesn’t speak right away. his gaze lingers, sweeping over her like he’s cataloging every detail, how she’s curled up in the sheets, how the oversized shirt drapes over her, slipping slightly off one shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone.

his eyes flicker lower.

the hem of the shirt has ridden up, just enough to reveal the bare skin of her legs, the soft slope of her thighs. his jaw tightens, a muscle feathering as he stares for just a moment too long, something unreadable flashing behind his dark eyes.

jiah stiffens, tugging the fabric lower, suddenly hyperaware of herself beneath his stare.

his gaze snaps back to her face, sharp and sudden, like he’s just realized where he was.

"get up," he finally says, voice rough.

she swallows, forcing herself to focus. "why?"

his gaze flicks back to her face.

"captain wants you above deck."

her stomach twists. "for what?"

jungkook shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. "not my business."

jiah hesitates. she doesn’t want to go. doesn’t want to step out of this room, doesn’t want to face whatever the captain of this ship has planned for her.

but she doesn’t have a choice.

her fingers tighten around the sheets before she slowly shifts to sit on the edge of the bed. the motion makes the shirt slip again, and jungkook’s gaze drops for half a second before he looks away, jaw flexing so tightly she swears she hears his teeth grind.

"can you…" she gestures vaguely, cheeks burning.

he just blinks.

"turn around," she clarifies, irritation slipping into her voice.

he huffs, but obeys, pivoting so his back faces her.

jiah moves quickly, pulling on the pants that were left from yesterday, tucking the oversized shirt into the waistband, trying to make herself look at least somewhat put together.

"okay," she mutters when she’s done.

jungkook turns immediately, gaze flicking over her again before he jerks his chin toward the door.

"let’s go."

jiah hesitates for only a moment, glancing back at the bed, at the faint imprint left on the cot.

then she stands, steps forward, and follows him out.

jiah barely has time to rub the sleep from her eyes before jungkook is leading her through the ship, his steps quick and impatient. she scurries to keep up, still feeling the remnants of sleep clinging to her limbs, her thoughts sluggish.

"you could’ve at least knocked," she mutters, voice still thick with sleep.

"i did," jungkook says flatly. "twice."

she scowls at his back. "and then you just walked in? what if i was—"

"you weren’t."

her scowl deepens.

when they reach the heavy wooden door leading to the captain’s quarters, jungkook raps his knuckles against it once before pushing inside. jiah hesitates for half a second before following, the scent of salt, parchment, and ink hitting her immediately.

namjoon is already seated behind his desk, rolling up a map with practiced ease. his gaze lifts at their arrival, sharp eyes flickering between them before settling on her.

"good morning," he greets smoothly.

she crosses her arms. "i wouldn’t call it good."

jungkook huffs beside her, but namjoon only smirks, tilting his head. "not a morning person, i take it?"

"not a pirate person," she corrects.

"unfortunate, considering your current predicament."

she glares, but namjoon is already moving on, leaning back in his chair. "i assume jungkook has informed you that i wanted to see you."

"he gave me the courtesy of a one word summons," she deadpans.

namjoon chuckles. "concise, as always."

jiah rolls her eyes. "just get to the point."

his smirk lingers, but his expression shifts slightly calculated, considering. "last night was, how do i put it, eventful."

her stomach twists at the reminder.

namjoon watches her reaction carefully. "you seem unharmed."

"thanks to hoseok," she says pointedly.

his jaw tenses for half a second before his mask of indifference returns. "regardless, it made one thing clear."

she crosses her arms. "and what’s that?"

namjoon leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "you’re vulnerable."

she stiffens. "i can handle myself."

"clearly," he muses, eyes glinting with amusement. "which is why you were moments away from being dragged off by a crewman."

her teeth clench. "just get to your point."

he holds her gaze for a beat before exhaling, almost as if this conversation is a mild inconvenience. "you’ll be staying here."

her brow furrows. "where?"

"here," he gestures vaguely around the cabin. "with me."

she blinks. "you’re joking."

there’s a beat of silence.

jungkook stiffens beside her.

"hyung," he says sharply, stepping forward. "that’s—"

namjoon lifts a hand, cutting him off. "she can’t seem to defend herself," he says simply. "and hoseok can’t be her guard forever."

jungkook’s jaw clenches. jiah watches as his hands tighten into fists, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he grits his teeth. he looks like he wants to argue, like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

he can’t.

jiah swallows, shifting on her feet. "i already have a place—"

"a glorified storage closet," he interjects smoothly. "which, after last night, has proven to be lacking in security."

her jaw tightens. "so your solution is locking me up in here instead?"

"hardly locking you up," he muses. "but you’ll be safer here."

"why do you even care?"

his lips twitch, but he doesn’t answer right away. "call it a captain’s responsibility."

she glances at jungkook, searching for some kind of reaction, some indication that he’s just as unhappy about this as she is.

but he’s already looking at her.

his gaze is dark, unreadable, something simmering beneath the surface that she can’t quite place.

and for some reason, that unsettles her more than anything.

namjoon tilts his head. "well?"

she exhales sharply, arms crossing over her chest. "fine," she mutters, then quickly adds, "but on my terms."

namjoon raises a brow, clearly amused. "your terms?"

"if i’m staying here, i don’t want to be treated like some helpless thing you’re keeping under watch," she says firmly. "i still do my work. i still move around the ship. and no one," her eyes flick to jungkook, then back to namjoon, "treats me like i’m some kind of fragile cargo."

namjoon hums, fingers tapping idly against the wood. "reasonable enough. but if i deem it unsafe, you listen to me without argument."

she scowls but nods. "deal."

namjoon’s smirk widens slightly. "good. then that’s settled." he shifts his gaze toward the door just as a sharp knock sounds against it. "perfect timing."

jiah tenses as the door swings open, revealing hoseok leaning against the frame, arms folded. his eyes flick between them before settling on her. "what’s going on?"

"you’re here to collect her," namjoon says smoothly. "she has work to do."

hoseok’s brow furrows slightly but he nods. "right. let’s go then."

jiah doesn’t move right away, hesitating for just a fraction of a second before finally stepping forward. as she passes jungkook, she catches a glimpse of his expression, still unreadable, still watching her too closely.

she forces herself to ignore it, brushing past hoseok as she exits.

his voice is the last thing she hears before the door swings shut behind her.

"try not to cause too much trouble today, yeah?"

namjoon waits until the door swings shut behind hoseok and jiah before exhaling through his nose, rolling his shoulders back like the conversation had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t move. he’s still standing there, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes trained on the closed door like he could burn a hole through it if he stared hard enough.

namjoon watches him for a beat before leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "say it," he drawls, tilting his head.

jungkook’s shoulders tense. "say what?"

namjoon hums. "whatever it is you’re holding back. because you look like you’re about to snap that pretty little jaw of yours from clenching so hard."

jungkook inhales sharply, nostrils flaring. "this isn’t a good idea."

"which part?" namjoon asks, arching a brow. "keeping her here? sending her off with hoseok?" he tilts his head. "or the part where you clearly have something to say but refuse to say it?"

jungkook’s eyes flash. "you know exactly what i mean."

namjoon leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, watching him like he’s some kind of amusing puzzle to solve. "don’t tell me you care for her."

jungkook’s scoff is immediate, sharp and cutting. "you can’t say that when it was your clothes she was dressed up in."

namjoon stills.

for a moment, silence stretches between them, thick with something neither of them wants to name. namjoon’s expression doesn’t change, but his fingers twitch where they rest against his arm, and jungkook catches it.

"oh," jungkook breathes, the corner of his lips curling into something that isn’t quite a smirk. "so that’s how it is?"

"don’t be ridiculous," namjoon says smoothly, but there’s a slight edge to his voice now, something just barely off-kilter.

"ridiculous?" jungkook parrots. "what’s ridiculous is you acting like you don’t care when you’re the one keeping her locked up in your damn quarters."

"she’s safer there."

"right," jungkook drawls. "because that’s why you did it."

namjoon’s jaw tightens. "you’re getting bold."

jungkook tilts his head, stepping closer. "and you’re getting careless."

namjoon’s eyes darken, a flicker of warning flashing through them. "watch it."

"or what?" jungkook challenges, voice deceptively light. "you’ll pull rank?"

"if that’s what it takes."

jungkook lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "unbelievable. you think this is control, but you’re just playing a losing game. you can keep her in here all you want, hyung, but that doesn’t mean she belongs to you."

a muscle in namjoon’s jaw ticks. he exhales slowly, reigning himself in, schooling his expression back into something unreadable. "this conversation is over."

"of course it is," jungkook mutters, turning on his heel. "because you don’t like what i have to say."

he’s almost to the door when namjoon speaks again.

"i trust you, jungkook," he says, voice quieter now. "but don’t forget your place."

jungkook stops. he doesn’t turn around.

a muscle feathers in his jaw, fingers flexing at his sides. for a second, it looks like he might say something. might throw namjoon’s words right back in his face. but instead he exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head like he’s trying to rid himself of the entire conversation.

"right," he mutters, voice laced with something bitter. "wouldn’t want to forget that."

he yanks the door open, stepping through without another word. it slams shut behind him, rattling the lantern hanging from the ceiling.

namjoon stays still for a moment, jaw tight, staring at the space jungkook had just occupied. with a sharp exhale, he leans back in his chair, tipping his head toward the ceiling.

his gaze flickers to the closed door.

then lower.

to the space where she had stood mere moments ago, the ghost of her presence still clinging to the air like the lingering scent of salt and something faintly sweet, something that didn’t belong on a ship like this. something that didn’t belong to him.

but she had looked like she did.

namjoon exhales sharply, tilting his head back against the chair, fingers drumming idly against the desk. the image of her is still burned into his mind. the oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder, baring the smooth curve of her collarbone, the fabric too large on her frame because it wasn’t meant for her. it was meant for him.

his.

the thought sparks something unwelcome in his chest, something he tamps down before it can take shape.

this was supposed to be simple. she was an inconvenience, a stray piece that didn’t fit, and he was merely making sure she didn’t get in the way. nothing more.

but the way she had looked at him, chin lifted, eyes dark with challenge, had made something twist low in his stomach. had made him want to remind her exactly who was in charge here.

"why do you even care?"

namjoon scoffs under his breath, reaching for the bottle of rum on his desk. he turns it once in his hand before setting it back down without drinking.

he doesn’t care.

he can’t.

but the weight in his chest tells him he’s a liar.

with a measured breath, he pushes himself to his feet, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt as he strides toward the open window. the ocean stretches endlessly before him, waves lapping gently against the ship’s hull. it should be calming.

it isn’t.

his eyes flick downward.

on the main deck, jiah is walking beside hoseok, strands of her hair catching in the wind. namjoon’s shirt still drowns her frame, slipping off her shoulder again as she lifts a hand to brush it back into place.

something sharp flickers through him.

hoseok says something, and jiah laughs. not fully, but enough. enough for namjoon’s fingers to curl against the windowsill, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"troublesome," he mutters under his breath.

and for the first time in a long while, he wonders if he’s made a mistake.

they walk in silence at first.

the ship rocks gently beneath their feet, the sounds of the ocean mingling with the rhythmic creak of the wooden planks. sailors move around them, busy with their tasks, some sparing glances in their direction, more at her than hoseok. but no one says anything, and for that, jiah is grateful.

hoseok walks beside her with easy strides, hands tucked into the loose folds of his coat. if the silence between them bothers him, he doesn’t show it.

jiah, on the other hand, feels the weight of unspoken words pressing against her chest.

she sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge his expression, but he remains unreadable, eyes fixed ahead. she exhales, deciding to just say it.

“thank you again for saving me last night.”

hoseok’s gaze flickers to her, his lips curving, not quite a smile, but something close.

“you were lucky,” he says lightly. “i don’t always go around playing the hero.”

she raises a brow. “so you’re saying if it had been someone else, you wouldn’t have stepped in?”

“depends,” he muses. “do they have your sharp tongue? your tendency to make things difficult?”

jiah scoffs. “i am not difficult.”

hoseok grins now, tilting his head. “you tried to bite someone last night.”

“that was self defense!” she protests. “he was, he was grabbing me, what was i supposed to do?”

“i’m not saying it was wrong,” hoseok says, laughing under his breath. “i’m just saying, difficult might be an accurate description.”

jiah narrows her eyes, but she can’t help the way her lips twitch, threatening to give away her amusement. she sighs dramatically. “fine. i guess i should thank you for saving me from my difficult self.”

“you should,” he teases, nudging her arm lightly. “i accept payment in gold, fine wine, and the last piece of dessert at dinner.”

this time, she does laugh, the sound breaking through the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying. “wow. what a noble price for a knight in shining armor.”

hoseok snorts. “you should know better than anyone princess that knights follow orders. i’d make a terrible one.”

“so what does that make you, then?”

his eyes glimmer with something unreadable before he shrugs. “someone who doesn’t like seeing you in trouble.”

it’s such a simple statement. shouldn’t make her stomach flip or her fingers twitch at her sides.

but it does.

and for once, jiah doesn’t know what to say.

jiah clears her throat, shifting her gaze away before he can catch whatever just flickered across her face. “well,” she says, trying to regain some footing. “since you’re so adamant about keeping me out of trouble, maybe you should teach me how to handle myself.”

hoseok lifts a brow, clearly amused. “handle yourself? didn’t you just tell me you bit someone?”

“yeah, and it would have worked,” she retorts. “but i doubt biting is a longterm strategy. you seem like you know how to fight.” she glances at him pointedly. “unless you’re all talk.”

hoseok chuckles, shaking his head. “you really don’t like owing people, do you?”

she crosses her arms. “not particularly.”

he considers her for a moment, then sighs. “alright, princess,” he drawls, the nickname rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

jiah huffs but doesn’t correct him this time. instead, she smirks. “so that does make you my knight.”

“i already told you—”

“—that you’d make a terrible one, yeah, yeah,” she waves a hand. “but here you are, agreeing to teach me how to fight. sounds like something a knight would do.”

hoseok just rolls his eyes, but the grin tugging at his lips betrays his amusement. “come on,” he says, jerking his chin toward the far end of the deck. “let’s find some space before i change my mind.”

they weave through the ship, past busy crewmates adjusting sails and tying knots, until they find a relatively empty stretch near the railing. the sea stretches endlessly beyond them, waves crashing against the hull in a rhythmic lull.

hoseok shrugs off his coat, tossing it over a nearby crate before stretching his arms above his head. “alright,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “let’s see what we’re working with.”

jiah squares her stance. “okay. what do i do first?”

hoseok eyes her posture and snorts. “first? try not to fall over when I push you.”

she scoffs. “excuse you, i have great balance.”

his grin turns sharp. “we’ll see about that.”

before she can fully register what he’s doing, he reaches out and, gently but swiftly, nudges her shoulder.

jiah immediately stumbles back a step.

hoseok smirks.

her cheeks burn. “okay, that was—”

“bad,” he finishes for her. “but don’t worry, princess. that’s what I’m here for.”

jiah exhales sharply, shaking off the misstep. she doesn’t let herself dwell on the way her borrowed clothes hang awkwardly on her frame, the sleeves too long, the hem brushing against her thighs in a way that feels distracting. instead, she resets, inhaling deep before moving again.

this time, she attacks first.

it’s fast, faster than he expects. she feints left before striking right, aiming a sharp jab toward his ribs. hoseok’s brows lift in surprise, but he reacts just in time, shifting back to block.

before he can fully reset, she follows up with another hit, angling for his shoulder.

he catches her wrist easily, fingers locking around it like a cuff. “not bad,” he muses, his grip firm but not painful. “better than i thought.”

she exhales, chest rising and falling steadily. “i have experience.”

hoseok’s lips twitch. “oh?” he tilts his head, still holding onto her wrist. “funny. i didn’t know maids brawled in their spare time. must make for some interesting entertainment.”

jiah huffs a laugh, twisting out of his hold, not sure how to explain herself. She couldn’t just say “oh yeah i took lessons when i was in middle school”

so instead she replies with, “something like that,” shaking out her arms.

hoseok watches her for a moment, his smirk still in place, but there’s something more curious behind it now, something thoughtful.

“alright then,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “again.”

this time, she doesn’t hesitate.

she moves quicker, sidesteps when he reaches to counter, and when she aims a sharp kick at his leg, he actually has to work to block it. their sparring shifts, turning into a dance of movement and precision, neither of them willing to be the first to falter.

jiah can feel the steady burn in her muscles, the way her breath starts to come faster, but there’s something exhilarating about it, about holding her own, about proving she isn’t just some helpless captive.

hoseok seems to recognize it too. “you’re not half bad,” he remarks, catching her wrist again and spinning her away before she can land a hit.

“not half bad?” she echoes, turning back to face him, breathless but grinning.

he grins back. “i’m being generous.”

jiah scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it. she resets, bouncing lightly on her feet.

“again?”

hoseok smirks. “again.”

their sparring picks up, shifting from careful, measured movements to something more instinctive. jiah adjusts quickly, adapting to hoseok’s rhythm, dodging when he swings, countering when he expects her to retreat. the air between them crackles, filled with the sound of shuffling feet, sharp exhales, and the occasional smack of skin against skin when a block lands just right.

she’s fast. faster than he expected. and she’s determined. every time he knocks her off balance, she finds her footing again, lips pressed into a stubborn line.

hoseok, for his part, is grinning.

“didn’t know you had this in you, princess,” he muses, narrowly avoiding a strike aimed at his ribs.

jiah scoffs, shaking out her wrist. i didn’t know either. but she doesn’t say that. instead, she resets, circling him.

then, without warning, she moves.

it’s a feint at first, but hoseok catches onto it a second too late. she ducks low, sweeping a leg out to knock him off balance. it almost works. almost.

hoseok stumbles back a step but catches himself at the last second, twisting just enough to grab her wrist and yank her forward.

jiah gasps.

before she knows it, she’s tumbling, except hoseok moves with her, and suddenly, she’s the one being pinned.

her back hits the wooden deck with a soft thud, her breath knocked from her lungs. hoseok is hovering over her, one knee pressing against her thigh to keep her in place, his grip tight around her wrist.

for a moment, neither of them move.

jiah stares up at him, wide eyed, chest rising and falling rapidly. hoseok is close, too close, his face only inches from hers, breath warm against her skin. his dark eyes flicker over her expression, lingering just a little too long.

his grip on her wrist loosens slightly, his thumb brushing absently against the inside of her palm.

oh.

something shifts in the air between them, thickens, turning into something heavier. something charged. jiah knows better. knows who this man is, what he’s done, what he’s capable of. she’s read whispers of the sea too many times, her subconscious is screaming at her to push him off of her,

yet, something inside od jiah doesn’t want him to move away.

hoseok’s smirk fades, his lips parting slightly as though he's about to speak, but no words come. his gaze drops to her mouth, then back up to her eyes, and jiah’s breath catches in her throat.

“sir!” a voice calls out, rough and interrupting. it’s a younger pirate from the crew, no more than fifteen, his tone not quite apologetic enough.

hoseok's shoulders stiffen. the magic of the moment breaks, leaving jiah feeling strangely exposed. she quickly pulls her hand back, shifting away, though her heart still beats too fast, too erratic.

“what is it jun?” hoseok snaps, his voice cool but sharp, annoyed at the intrusion.

the pirate doesn’t seem to notice the tension that hangs heavy in the air. “the kitchen’s looking for her, says they need her for prep work,” he reports, clearly not picking up on the unease surrounding them.

hoseok exhales through his nose, clearly frustrated. he glances back at jiah, the tension still palpable between them, his eyes still dark, still lingering. “well, looks like your shift’s come early,” he mutters, his voice low, too quiet to fully hide the edge.

jiah blinks, thrown off balance by the sudden change in atmosphere. “i thought i was supposed to clean the deck,”

hoseok meets her gaze, his smile slow but faint, the humor in his eyes gone. “you’ll survive,” he says softly, voice nearly a growl now. “just follow me. don’t make me repeat myself, princess.”

the word “princess” comes out almost too smoothly, too easily, like he’s already gotten too used to calling her that. and for the first time since being here, it makes her stomach flutter in a way she doesn't understand.

he turns toward the ship’s corridor, walking briskly. jiah, still flustered, follows behind him, the echo of her footsteps the only sound in the heavy silence between them.

as they make their way toward the kitchen, she can’t help but glance up at him, wondering if that intensity in his eyes had been real or just some trick of the light. but hoseok doesn’t look back at her, his pace steady, his expression unreadable.

being in the kitchen wasn’t part of the plan.

but then again, nothing had gone according to plan.

taehyung kept his head down, fingers working over the half-rotten potato in his hands, peeling away its rough skin with slow, deliberate movements. the galley was the safest place for him, tucked away beneath the deck, away from prying eyes, away from hoseok.

and survival meant keeping out of sight.

the galley was cramped, thick with the scent of salt, old bread, and burning oil. the other kitchen hands barely looked at him. just another body. another set of hands to chop, peel, scrub. they didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t offer answers.

his grip tightened around the knife. jungkook had noticed something was off with him.

he wasn’t a fool. the moment hoseok caught wind of his presence, things would get ugly fast.

he rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. the last thing he needed was to look suspicious. the head cook barely paid him any mind, and the other kitchen hands were too busy grumbling about supplies to question why he was here. it was easy enough to blend in, to keep his head low, to stay clear of trouble.

until trouble walked right in.

the door creaked open, and taehyung didn’t have to look up to know who it was. his grip on the knife tightened instinctively.

“i’ll finish showing you how to do this in a moment, dear,” the head cook’s voice rang out, warm and absentminded.

taehyung’s stomach twisted. against his better judgment, he lifted his gaze just enough to see.

jiah.

she stood next to hoseok, her frame swallowed in clothes too big for her, sleeves rolled up messily, the hem of her shirt brushing mid-thigh. she looked out of place here, lips pressed into a thin line, her expression carefully guarded.

hoseok said something to the head cook, too low for taehyung to hear, and the older man nodded, stepping away to talk to him in hushed tones.

taehyung stiffened.

jiah was alone.

for the first time since boarding this ship, she was standing right there, close enough that if he reached out, his fingers might just graze hers.

but he didn’t move.

he just watched, pulse hammering in his ears, as she glanced around, her hands twitching at her sides like she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

this wasn’t the moment to act. it wasn’t the moment to speak.

but soon.

soon, he’d get her out of here.

jiah hesitated for only a second before making her way to the long wooden table where a pirate sat peeling potatoes. she still felt out of place, but standing idly wasn’t an option. not when she was supposed to be learning how to work in the kitchen, not when hoseok was just a few feet away.

besides, there was something about the boy hunched over the table that felt… familiar.

she slid onto the bench beside him, resting her hands on the edge of the table. “not exactly what you imagined when you signed up to be a pirate, huh?”

the mans hand stilled.

for a second, he didn’t look at her, didn’t react at all. but then, slowly, his fingers tightened around the knife, and he turned his head.

his eyes met hers.

jiah inhaled sharply.

even with the dim lantern light casting flickering shadows across his face, he was just as breathtaking as she remembered.

no. more.

the glow accentuated the sharp angles of his jaw, the elegant slope of his cheekbones, the soft curve of his lips. his hair, lighter now, fell messily over his forehead, strands catching the light like threads of gold. there was something almost unreal about him, like he had stepped out of a dream and into the dim warmth of the kitchen.

it hadn’t even been three days, but after everything, being kidnapped, thrown onto a pirate ship, forced into a life that wasn’t hers, he was the only thing that felt remotely familiar. the only person she knew wouldn’t hurt her.

he was the only character she had met who had played a major role in her story, well jiah’s story, in this world. yet he had never been mentioned in the book.

that should have terrified her.

and yet,

and yet, it only made her more curious.

her lips parted, her heart climbing into her throat. “taehy—”

before she could finish, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist under the table.

her breath caught.

“don’t,” he murmured, voice low but firm.

his fingers were warm against her skin, his grip not tight enough to hurt but enough to send a clear message.

jiah swallowed, her pulse thudding in her throat. her first instinct was to pull away, but she didn’t. something in his expression made her stay.

so she lowered her voice, her words barely above a whisper. “it is you.”

taehyung’s jaw ticked. his grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“you shouldn’t talk to me,” he muttered.

jiah’s brows furrowed. “that’s going to be difficult considering we’re working in the same kitchen.”

his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t argue.

she tilted her head, studying him. “how did you get here?”

taehyung hesitated. his grip on her wrist twitched, like he was debating letting go, but he didn’t. instead, his gaze flickered away, as if he was scanning the room, making sure no one was listening.

then he exhaled, voice quieter this time. “i was trying to find you. before they took you.”

jiah’s breath hitched.

the words sent a sharp pang through her chest.

he hadn’t just been looking for her on this ship.

before the pirates, before any of this, he had been trying to find her that night.

her mind flickered back to the conversation that led to her being on that balcony.

“…the proposal? the only reason the royal family would ever let you two attend an event like this…”

taehyung was going to propose.

her fingers curled against the table.

he had been looking for her to propose.

something thickened in the air between them, charged and unspoken.

jiah opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a voice cut through the tension.

“jiah.”

she startled, her head snapping up just as hoseok strode toward them, his usual smirk playing at his lips.

taehyung didn’t move.

but when she glanced at him again, she realized something had shifted.

his posture had gone rigid.

his expression was carefully blank.

he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

he was watching hoseok.

his eyes stayed fixed on hoseok, and for a brief moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. the air around them was taut, charged, like a bowstring drawn too tight.

jiah could almost feel the heat of his stare on the back of her neck, the tension in the space between them growing thicker by the second.

something in taehyung snapped. his grip on her wrist loosened, and he jerked his gaze away from hoseok, as if breaking some invisible thread between them. he exhaled, a sharp, controlled breath, his jaw tight.

"i have to go," hoseok said, his tone clipped but not unkind. he stood, looking down at jiah for a moment, his expression unreadable. “there’s something i need to take care of.”

his gaze lingered for a second too long on jiah or more importantly her proximity to taehyung, his smirk turning to something darker.

"don’t get too comfortable."

“of course,” jiah managed, trying to keep her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.

hoseok paused at the doorway, glancing back at taehyung, who was still seated at the table. he studied him with a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. there was a quiet, dangerous amusement in the way his lips curled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

hoseok finally spoke, his voice low but unmistakably commanding. “what was your name again?”

jiah stiffened. beside her, she felt taehyung do the same, though his face remained impassive.

“tan, sir,” he answered, his voice even, controlled.

hoseok’s gaze sharpened for just a second. quick, fleeting, but enough to make the air in the room feel razor thin. finally, with a slow nod, he dismissed him, like a noble might wave off a servant.

“tan,” hoseok murmured, rolling the name over his tongue as though testing its weight. there was something behind his voice, a mix of curiosity and something far more dangerous. “you’ll do.”

without another word he turned on his heel and made his way to the door, his boots striking heavy against the wooden floorboards.

jiah hadn’t even realized taehyung was still holding onto her until his fingers suddenly loosened, retracting as if scalded. he exhaled sharply, his breath unsteady, and for the first time since their conversation started, she could see it, the adrenaline still coursing through him, the tension coiled tight beneath his skin.

“you’re safe for now,” he muttered, though it sounded more like a reassurance to himself than to her.

but even as the words left his lips, jiah could see it in his eyes, the lingering fear, the weight of something unspoken. hoseok was dangerous. and no matter how much taehyung tried to hide it, she could tell.

he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the act.

wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep both of them safe.

jiah let out a slow breath, trying to shake the tension that lingered in the wake of hoseok’s departure. she glanced at taehyung. his posture was stiff, shoulders locked as though bracing for a blow that never came. his jaw was still tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

she hated seeing him like this.

so, in an attempt to lighten the mood, she offered, “soo… what are we making?”

taehyung blinked at her, like he hadn’t expected the question. for a moment, his expression remained unreadable, then, finally, some of the tension in his frame eased. he huffed out a breath, the corner of his lips twitching, not quite a smile, but the ghost of one.

“i have no idea,” he admitted. “i got here right before you did. the head chef, mirae, i think, was showing me what to do before he dragged you in.”

jiah nodded, taking in the space around them. the kitchen was warm, filled with the comforting scent of simmering broth and warm bread. despite the circumstances, despite the fear that still gnawed at the edges of her mind, there was something oddly grounding about standing here with taehyung.

he was here. he was real. and for the first time since she’d been thrown into this world, she wasn’t completely alone.

“so,” she said, tapping her fingers against the wooden countertop, “does that mean we’re both completely useless?”

taehyung let out a soft chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “probably. though, to be fair, i’m good with a knife.” he glanced at her, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “not for cooking, though.”

jiah rolled her eyes. “comforting.”

he smirked, a little more like himself now, and leaned against the counter. “don’t worry, i’m sure mirae will make sure we don’t burn the ship down.”

she snorted, but then, quieter, she said, “it’s really you.”

taehyung’s smirk faltered. he looked at her, really looked at her, like he was taking her in for the first time.

“yeah,” he murmured. “it’s me.”

jiah swallowed, something thick settling in her throat. for days now, she had been surrounded by unfamiliar faces, tossed into a world that wasn’t her own, forced to play a role she didn’t understand. nothing had made sense. nothing had felt safe.

but taehyung, he was real. he was something tangible in all of this chaos. even if she had only known him for less than a month, even if they had only shared a handful of moments before everything unraveled, he felt… steady.

maybe it was because, in a strange way, her body knew him even before she did. the memories of the jiah from the novel she was supposed to be lingered somewhere deep inside her, tethering her to him in ways she couldn’t explain. she wasn’t sure if she believed in things like fate, but standing here, in the warm glow of the kitchen, it was the closest she had felt to something familiar since waking up in this world.

she wasn’t alone.

so instead of trying to find the words to explain all of this, words that probably wouldn’t make sense anyway, she simply reached for a nearby loaf of bread and tore off a piece, holding it out to him.

“well,” she said, forcing a small smile. “if we’re going to be terrible at this, we might as well start somewhere.”

taehyung hesitated for only a second before taking the offered piece of bread. his fingers brushed against hers, warm, familiar.

“yeah,” he said, softer this time. “we might as well.”

jungkook is pissed.

him and namjoon never fight. not really. they argue, sure disagreements over strategy, the occasional clash in opinion, but it’s always been light. something that fades as quickly as it flares up.

but this?

this felt heavy.

this wasn’t just a difference in opinion. it wasn’t some fleeting frustration that would disappear with a good night’s sleep. no, this had weight to it, something unspoken pressing down on his chest, tightening like a rope with every breath he took.

jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply through his nose. it’s not just that namjoon dismissed him. he’s used to that, used to the captain making the final call, used to following orders. but this time, it wasn’t about the mission. it wasn’t about strategy or survival.

it was about her.

namjoon’s words still echo in his head, laced with something possessive, something territorial.

his clothes. his cabin. his rules.

jungkook clenches his jaw. why does it bother him so much? it shouldn’t. it shouldn’t. but there’s a heat curling in his gut, something restless and bitter, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

why does it matter to him that she’s wearing namjoon’s clothes? that she’ll be sleeping in his quarters? that she’s stuck beneath his watch?

why does it feel like namjoon is making a claim, staking something unspoken, and why does that thought make jungkook want to break something?

his fingers twitch at his sides, restless, itching for something to hold, to grip, to hit. his pulse thrums beneath his skin, hot and insistent, like the steady pounding of war drums in his ears.

he doesn’t know why this is getting to him.

but he hates it.

his grip tightens against the railing, wood groaning under his fingers. his teeth grind together, jaw locked so tight it aches.

it doesn’t make sense.

she’s just a girl. a prisoner. a liability they didn’t ask for.

but,

she’s not.

she’s not like the other captives they’ve taken before. she doesn’t cower. she doesn’t break. she stands her ground, looks them all in the eye, holds her chin high like she belongs here. like she’s daring them to prove otherwise.

and maybe that’s why namjoon is keeping her close.

maybe it’s strategy.

maybe he doesn’t actually care.

but jungkook doesn’t believe that.

because he’s seen the way namjoon watches her.

not just like a captain assessing a risk. not just like a man weighing his options.

but like something more.

like he’s waiting for something. like he’s already decided something. like he’s holding on to something he refuses to name.

and that,

that pisses him off.

jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. he’s being stupid. irrational. namjoon can do whatever the hell he wants. it’s none of his business.

and yet, his gaze flickers across the deck, searching.

searching for her.

except she’s not here.

she’s in the galley.

jungkook’s fingers drum against the railing, the rhythm uneven, restless. hoseok still hasn’t returned yet.

that shouldn’t mean anything, but for some reason, it does.

what the hell is he still doing down there?

jungkook scowls, shaking his head. hoseok is probably just getting food, maybe wiping off the sweat from their training session. maybe he lost track of time. maybe he’s already on his way back up.

or maybe he’s still with her.

his stomach twists at the thought.

the sparring match shouldn’t have bothered him. he’s seen hoseok train countless people before. new recruits, prisoners who could be of use, even some of their own crewmates who wanted to sharpen their skills.

but this, this is different.

she is different.

and now half the damn ship probably saw them together, saw the way hoseok taught her, stood close enough to correct her stance, let her land blows against him just to test her strength.

jungkook swallows hard, his grip on the railing tightening.

it should have been him.

hoseok is good, great even, but jungkook is just better.

everyone knows it. hoseok might have been a prince once, might have had the best tutors money could buy, but jungkook had earned his skill with blood and bruises, with battles fought tooth and nail. he’s the best fighter in the eastern sea, and not a single person aboard this ship would dare argue otherwise.

so why wasn’t he the one training her?

why wasn’t he the one fixing her stance, making sure she held her ground, teaching her how to use her body in a fight?

why was it hoseok, with his easy smiles and manicured charm, who got to be the one at her side?

his jaw clenches, irritation curling hot in his chest.

was namjoon keeping him away from her on purpose?

the thought is ridiculous. namjoon has never been one to care about things like that. he’s always been measured, calculating, never acting without reason. but then again, namjoon has also never been this possessive over anyone before.

and maybe it’s not just namjoon.

maybe it’s him.

the realization hits jungkook like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs.

his fingers flex at his sides, an ache settling in his bones that he doesn’t know how to shake.

he doesn’t want to think about her. doesn’t want to acknowledge the way she’s crawled into his head, the way her voice lingers in the spaces between his thoughts, the way her presence shifts the air around him, tangible in a way that makes his pulse quicken.

but no matter how much he tries to push her from his mind, the image of her standing in the galley, laughing at something hoseok said, hands still wrapped up from their spar, eyes bright with something like excitement,

it makes him want to punch someone.

or maybe it makes him want to grab her wrist, pull her away, and be the one to teach her himself.

his breath comes uneven now, sharp with frustration.

it doesn’t make sense. none of this makes sense.

jungkook exhales, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. the sun hangs high above the mast, the waves below rolling in slow, lazy arcs, but he feels none of the peace the open sea usually offers him.

his thoughts are too tangled, knotted so tight he doesn’t know how to unravel them, and the only person who could ever make sense of the mess in his head is nowhere to be seen.

jimin.

his fingers curl against the railing, the salt-rough wood biting into his palms.

he wishes, fuck, he wishes he could talk to him.

jimin always had a way of cutting through the bullshit, of taking one look at jungkook and knowing. if he were here, he’d take one glance at jungkook’s clenched jaw, the restless set of his shoulders, and drag him away before he could snap at the wrong person.

but he’s not here.

and that’s the problem, isn’t it?

jungkook and jimin have never been apart this long. not since they were kids, not since jimin saved him.

and yet, when jimin finally did return, when he finally emerged from the sea that stole him away,

he didn’t come to jungkook.

not to his brother, not to the boy who would have burned the world down to bring him back.

but to her.

to some girl he’d never met.

to jiah.

jungkook’s jaw clenches, something raw and ugly twisting in his chest.

he should hate her for it.

he should resent her for the way jimin had looked past him, even fought with him, like jungkook wasn’t the one who had spent every day since that night waiting, hoping, searching.

instead, jimin had come back changed, his voice like the tide, his eyes like the storm, and the first thing he did was go to her.

and yet,

jungkook exhales sharply, pressing his palm flat against the railing, feeling the salt in the grooves of the wood, the sting of it against his fingertips.

he still can’t bring himself to hate her.

he wants to. god, he wants to. but he thinks about the way she squared her shoulders at that first night, refusing to back down from namjoon. he thinks about the stubborn set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes, the way she held herself like she had nothing left to lose.

he thinks about the way she stood her ground today, fists clenched, learning to fight with every ounce of determination she had.

and he—

jungkook scowls, shaking his head, cursing himself under his breath.

this is not his problem.

his problem is jimin.

his problem is that jimin should have never left him.

jungkook always knew part of jimin belonged to the sea. it was in a siren’s nature, after all.

but jungkook and jimin’s relationship was special.

he was immune to jimin’s song.

it’s how they first met.

the waves had swallowed his small boat whole.

one moment, the sea had been calm, nothing but the whisper of the tide and the creak of the wood beneath his feet. the next, a storm had raged from nowhere, black clouds churning in the sky, winds howling like a beast awakened from slumber.

jungkook had tried to hold on, tried to fight, but the ocean didn’t care.

it took.

and jungkook sank.

salt filled his lungs, burned his throat, pulled him under. the water was thick, heavy, darkness pressing in from all sides. he kicked, thrashed, but it was useless. the ocean was endless, a great maw yawning open, swallowing him whole. his limbs ached, the fight leaving his body in slow, dragging increments.

this was it, then.

he was going to die here.

but instead all he heard was a melody.

soft, lilting, curling around his ears like a whispered promise. it slithered beneath his skin, tugged at his ribs, coiled tight around his heart. he felt the pull of it, the lure, like invisible strings trying to drag him deeper, down, down, down

but it didn’t work.

his head remained clear. his limbs, heavy but his own.

he blinked through the murky water, disoriented, confused, and then he saw him.

a boy, not much older than him floating just beyond his reach, silver-blue hair shifting like mist, eyes glowing like the deepest part of the ocean floor.

his lips moved, voice spilling into the water, weaving something delicate, something deadly. something meant to take.

but jungkook didn’t move.

he only stared.

watched as the siren’s voice wove through the dark, reaching for him, expecting him to follow, to fall, to belong to the sea.

but jungkook didn’t.

and for the first time in his life, he saw a siren hesitate.

he saw something flicker across the siren’s face. confusion, frustration, and beneath that, the smallest hint of fear.

because the siren’s song had no power over him.

the currents shifted, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

Ever so slowly the siren moved.

closer, cautious, as if jungkook were the strange thing here, the impossible thing.

and maybe he was.

the siren reached for him first.

jungkook doesn’t remember much after that, just the feeling of cold hands against his skin, the sensation of being held, the blurry memory of breaking the surface, lungs burning, salt and air mixing in his throat as he choked on his own breath.

but he does remember this.

he remembers waking up, washed up on some nameless shore, the tide lapping at his ankles, sand rough beneath his palms.

he remembers the boy sitting beside him, eyes bright with something unreadable, silver hair still dripping, tail curled beneath him.

he remembers him saying, quietly, like a secret, like something too important to be spoken aloud,

"you weren’t supposed to resist."

and jungkook, young and reckless and so grateful to be alive, had only grinned, voice hoarse and raw.

"guess I’m not like most people, huh?"

the siren had stared at him for a long moment.

then, unexpectedly, he had smiled. “my names jimin.”

and that had been it.

jimin had never left his side after that.

wherever jungkook went, jimin followed, like the tide pulled by the moon. inevitable, inseparable. there was never a question of it, never a need to ask why. it was simply the way things were.

jimin, with his too sharp teeth and ethereal beauty, who did not belong on land, and jungkook, with his reckless heart and salt-stained hands, who had no place beneath the waves.

they weren’t siren and human. they weren’t predator and prey.

they were something else.

a siren’s suiyum.

the one soul that followed them across lifetimes. a thread binding them together, unbroken, unyielding.

sirens were old creatures, older than men, older than the sea itself. they believed in fate. a suiyum. their tether, their anchor across the endless cycle of life and death.

a siren’s song could pull, seduce, command. it could drag ships to ruin, could shatter the wills of even the strongest men. but a suiyum was different. a suiyum was immune. untouchable. their heart beat to a different rhythm, a melody a siren could not sway.

because their bond had already been written in the stars.

if a siren found their suiyum and made them fall in love, their spirit would be freed.

they could be reborn.

human.

in all of his past lives, jimin had failed.

jungkook doesn’t know how, doesn’t know what happened to the version of him from before, the one who came before this jungkook, the one who had looked into jimin’s eyes and not loved him right.

but something had gone wrong.

now, jimin was something unnatural. a half-blooded mistake, too human for the depths, too monstrous for the surface.

jimin had told him once, in the quiet lull of the night, voice soft like the lullaby of the waves, that sirens were not meant to be born wrong.

that he had been a punishment, a reminder from the gods that some souls did not deserve mercy.

jungkook had hated that.

he had hated the way jimin said it like a truth, like something undeniable.

because to jungkook, jimin had never been a mistake.

jimin, who had pulled him from the depths, who had sat beside him on the shore with seafoam clinging to his skin, who had chosen him when he could have let him drown.

jimin, who was all sharp edges and hidden softness, who had never quite fit anywhere, who had always belonged with jungkook.

jungkook had never cared that jimin wasn’t fully human.

he had never cared that sirens were meant to be feared.

he loved jimin.

as a brother. as a friend. as something else, something he never let himself name.

it didn’t matter.

Because now jimin wouldn’t even look at him. his attention was elsewhere.

his soul was reaching out, but not to him.

it was reaching for her.

jiah.

jungkook didn’t understand it, didn’t want to understand it, but he had felt it that night. the first night jiah had been dragged onto this cursed ship, when she had still been shaking from the cold, from fear, from the sheer wrongness of her situation.

when he found jimin in her sorry excuse for a room. the one he had put her in.

it had been like watching something ancient awaken.

jungkook had never feared jimin before.

but in that moment, with silver hair falling into those eerie, glowing eyes, with power thrumming beneath his skin like something barely restrained, he had felt it.

the air had snapped.

one moment, jungkook had been charging forward, fists drawn, heart hammering,

and the next, he had been thrown back like a ragdoll, his body slamming against the wooden walls of the ship with a force that hurt.

he had gasped, stunned, but before he could even move, jimin was already there.

a cold hand pressing against his chest, holding him down with a touch so light, it shouldn’t have been enough to keep him still. and yet jungkook hadn’t been able to move.

"you should be more careful," jimin had murmured, voice silky smooth, empty of the warmth jungkook had once known. "humans are so… breakable."

jungkook had seen that look before.

he had seen it in other sirens, in the creatures who viewed men as nothing more than fleeting entertainment, as playthings, as something to be toyed with and discarded.

but never in jimin.

never in the boy who had once pulled him from the sea, who had chosen him over the call of the depths.

except that night, jimin hadn’t been himself.

he had been something else.

something possessed.

and jungkook didn’t know what scared him more.

the fact that jimin had fought him over her.

or the fact that jiah was not immune to him.

jungkook had spent his entire life knowing he was different. knowing he was the only one who could meet a siren’s gaze and feel nothing.

if jiah esd truly connected to jimin, was his true suiyum and jungkook was just a freak accident, why had she reacted to his call.

why had shivered beneath jimin’s touch. she had drawn in a sharp breath when his voice curled around her ears. her pulse had jumped, her hands had trembled.

she had looked at jimin like something in her recognized him.

but the worst part,

jimin had looked at her the same way.

like a soul calling out across lifetimes.

like a thread snapping taut.

like something ancient, something undeniable, something that had been waiting, waiting, waiting.

until now.

jungkook swallows hard, the phantom ache of that night lingering in his ribs.

the ship rocks beneath him, steady, constant, nothing like the storm brewing in his chest.

jungkook clenches his jaw, forcing down the unease clawing at his throat.

because if jimin’s soul is calling out to hers,

if that thread is pulling tight, dragging them closer,

then where does that leave him?

authors note: hey guys !! im lowkey sorry for how long it too me to put something out, i just had midterms and it was rough. like always i wanted to say thank you guys for reading, it means the world to me !! quick questions i have for you guys

1. do you prefer longer posts (like 10k words) slightly less frequently or shorter posts (like 5-10k words) slightly more frequently. 2. do you like jumping around from member to members pov (its a stylistic choice i personally really enjoy, but am i doing it too much? not enough? is there any member you wish you heard from more?) 3. now for the fun question, besides yoongi im pretty sure every member has had some sort of scene with jiah, which member so far do you enjoy seeing her interact with the most? who do you want her to interact with more?

also i feel like so much happened in this chapter that helps you guys understand whats going on (especially with jimin and jungkook's dynamic, trust in the next chapter we will be seeing jimin again, i was hoping to get him in here but if i did this chapter would have ended up being 10k+ more words). also to all my yoongi people out there ik hes gotten like nothing i have stuff planned for him, its just hard since hes still with seokjin on land.

thank you guys again, i am going to try my absolute best to not have it end up being so long between chapters again, hopefully i can have something out before the end of the month !!

taglist: @singukieee @canarystwin @elizabetharmy @moonxxlover @sathom013 @gracefulsakura98 @jungshaking @taiwan0618 @ihatesnakeu7 @borahaetelevision @lovelyglares @multifandomfreakster-blog @dawnzephyr @plainoldalexis @justasadb1tch @tranquilty @seomta @mar-lo-pap @chroniclesofbts @charlielecrayongris @wannaghostbts @kpopdreamer95

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miveras · 1 year ago

Text

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 | JJK

♡ preview: in which jungkook is a gentleman & he helps you get out of a situation.

♡ pairing: jungkook x reader

♡ genre: strangers to lovers, idk what this is honestly (i think i rushed it a little towards the end but its okay)

♡ wc: 6.8k

The wind brushes your hair to the side, and you tuck some loose strands behind your ears. You turn around with your eyebrows raised, pulling out your earphones to question whoever just tapped you on the shoulder. You had just stepped out of the store and with the receipt still in your hand, you wondered if you forgot to scan something in the self-checkout line.

You’re met with an above average looking man near your age. He’s not much taller than you and he looks friendly– not a phrase you often think about a man. He’s wearing a plain, beige hoodie with black pants– a nice outfit, and pretty hair to top off his look.

Though slightly mesmerized by his looks, you still gather your thoughts as you ask him what he wants from you. With an awkward smile, he glances around the parking lot first, then he leans closer to your ear.

“I think there’s someone following you,” he continues, “he’s been eyeing you for a while.” You hear the hesitation in his words– probably worried that you’d think of him weirdly for bothering you about it.

Your lips part in shock, worriedness and fear visible on your face. You try your best not to make it obvious when you turn around, looking for who he was talking about. Once you landed on his familiar figure, your face contorts into a sour expression, remembering the previous interaction you had with him.

He looked about your age, but it seemed like he had the mind of an old man. His eyes met yours as he started smiling widely– all full of himself, probably thinking that you wanted him too.

Great, you were so over everything at this point. All you wanted to do was visit the store and get all the essentials enough for weeks– so that you could avoid creeps. Thankful for his input, you give him a slight smile and explain what had happened before.

“Oh,” you sounded a bit appalled, “uhm.. He’s been staring since I was inside the store. I didn’t know he’d follow me out here too.” You were clearly unsure what to say or do– should you continue home and risk him following you? Or should you report him to someone first?

Earlier, you had already told the creep that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, obviously not thinking it through. Now, he probably thought this man in front of you was your boyfriend. He noticed how you bit your lip, feeling uncomfortable with the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know in case he actually tries doing something.”

“Yeah, thank you for that. I think I’m still gonna take the bus and head home, though. I’ll just hope he doesn’t find out where I live,” you chuckle, though it sounds fake.

He nods, understanding that there really isn’t anything else to do. He feels a bit awkward telling you about him and not doing anything else to help.

As you were about to walk away, he suddenly blurted out, “Do you want me to drive you?” He seems genuinely concerned knowing that you were taking the bus– meaning he could follow you and find out where you live easily. He just didn’t feel right not offering to be your personal driver, especially considering the circumstances.

It may sound strange but within the small time frame where you talked, you seemed oddly comfortable with him. So much that you even consider getting into the car with him, but even you know how absurd that sounds. But you weren’t stupid. Instead, you offer him a polite, ‘Thank you but no thanks,’ hoping he’d understand.

He does but he couldn’t help pestering you about it further. He offers to either drive you or buy an Uber for you instead of taking the bus. You only assure him that you’ll be fine after he keeps insisting, and you get ready to start heading home.

“Wait, can I have your number? I-I mean, for safety reasons of course, but only if you want to. I just want to make sure you get home safe and I’d feel extremely guilty knowing that I practically sent you home while he’s still here,” he rambles on.

You found it quite amusing how sweet he was to you and you gladly gave him your digits.

“My name’s Jungkook. What should I save you as?”

He notices the creep frown at you both, but you didn’t react.

“Y/N, and pretty name by the way,” you enjoy the way he blushes at the compliment, licking his lips as an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

You both save each other’s names and numbers. After the exchange, you slip the receipt you were still holding into your bag.

He watched you walk away towards the bus stop, still slightly worried about the situation. But in the end, he knew it wasn’t his business and drove home as well. He knew you just didn’t want to feel burdened over a mere stranger driving you or buying you an Uber. But he hoped that you knew he just wanted to keep you away from the creep.

You [04:56 pm]: hey, i just got home safe. u?

Jungkook [5:14 pm]: not yet, i'm out rn. he didn’t try following u, did he?

You [05:27 pm]: thank god, no. ty for worrying abt me jungkook. :)

You [05:28 pm]: get home safe

As you turn the corner from the library, you’re suddenly met with someone’s chest. You stumble back a bit and hold onto your textbooks tighter. Luckily, you don’t fall.

“Ah, I’m sorry, you good?” he asks, straightening up. “Oh, Y/N?”

You look up at him, a bit shocked that you guys met again on campus. You didn’t even know he was in college.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here– do you go here?” You had so many questions right now. It seemed weird how he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit shocked, as if he already knew.

“Yeah, I do. But listen, Y/N– I have something to talk to you about.” He checked the time on his phone, and looked at you expectantly. It seemed pretty urgent and he didn’t have much time left to meet up with you for a little.

You nod and decide to walk to the nearest boba shop. You were about to head here anyway for a little sweet treat– usually Matcha Bubble Tea. You order yours as well as Jungkook’s drink. Once you both take a seat, you wait for him to explain what’s gotten into him. This is only the second time meeting with him, and you have many questions.

He starts, pushing the straw to puncture the lid, “He goes to our school.” He waits for your reaction, but your silence serves as encouragement for him to keep going. “The guy that was following you, I saw him in my frat.”

“What? You knew him– why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You felt a bit betrayed, and so confused why he didn’t just say that. Did he play the hero just to get your number for his friend or something?

“No, no. I-I just found out recently. I mean, I already knew you went here since I’d seen you around before– in the library and in class.” You didn’t have time to process that he already knew you, and instead you focus on the other guy involved.

“When I saw him yesterday, I was gonna reach out to you when I had the time. It just so happens that you were in the library this morning,” he explains quickly.

Slurping your drink, you seem less worried and confused as he goes on. It was just a misunderstanding. But now you have to worry about the creep when you’re in school too. You roll your eyes and complain about how unlucky you are.

He looks at you briefly before continuing, “He thinks we’re dating.” You give him a questioning look– somewhat asking why that matters. You already knew this sort of thing may happen, given that you did tell the guy your boyfriend was waiting for you, and out comes Jungkook at the perfect moment.

You just didn’t know why it would matter. Did he have a girlfriend and he didn’t want her to misunderstand?

“What’s the problem? Did you want to clear things up with him?”

Honestly, you were more shocked that Jungkook wanted to tell him that you guys weren’t dating than him actually going to your school. In fact, you stopped caring as soon as his eyes started glowing from the sun rays coming from the window.

If he had a girlfriend, you were so damn sorry for the way you are ogling him right now. You look away– flushed cheeks and everything, contemplating how pretty he looked underneath the light.

“Well.. he kind of told everybody. So I wanted to let you know before you hear from someone else. I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that,” he seemed rather sweet about it.

Aww, he wanted to get your approval first. You grin widely at him, so utterly infatuated with the thought of him caring for you– you’ve never taken a liking to someone so quick before. It’s not a crush, you convince yourself, it’s just been too long since someone took care of you.

You immediately brush off your thoughts when you notice him staring at you with an awkward smile. You take another sip of your drink, almost forgetting that it was in front of you.

“Honestly, I don’t have a problem with it,” you remark, sending him a playful wink. You weren’t sure where you got this newfound confidence but you blamed it on Jungkook. He was too cute for you not to tease him.

You both exchanged classes, majors, and talked about your school lives– especially how crazy it was that you both hadn’t talked before despite having similar interests.

After a bit, he had to go since he’d made plans to go out with his friends. You could tell he was already late by the way he rushed out– almost forgetting his bag in the process.

You stay behind, thinking about how much you wanted to learn more about him– his habits, hobbies, everything. You were excited to get to know him– a feeling you hadn’t felt in a while.

You see her the next morning in your Chemistry class.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” she shouts angrily, mostly from betrayal. She practically seethes smoke out of her ears, rushing close to you for answers. Your friend rages, “How come you didn’t come to me first?”

She speaks for both her and Jimin, your two best friends since high school. You understood their reaction since it was pretty abrupt and they never even heard you talk about Jungkook before. There was no doubt that the two of them felt ignored and hurt– this was the first time you hadn’t told them anything.

In fact, you knew that Jimin was probably blaming himself for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him. Instead of being irate with you like Lea clearly was, he felt it within– blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault.

You forgot about how they both would react to the rumors, and you forgot to settle them as quickly as possible. You regret your decision now that you’re faced with Lea turning her back towards you, huffing and puffing everytime she remembers you’re right next to her.

“Lea,” you whine, tapping on her shoulder, “they’re not true– the rumors aren’t.”

She finally turns to you with a confused look on her face, trying to scan your’s to make sure you were telling the truth. When she finally figures it out, she asks for a detailed explanation on the situation.

“A guy spread a rumor about Jungkook and I but trust me when I say there’s nothing between us,” you weren’t completely telling the truth. You knew there was something but you refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t seem interested in you anyway. “We’re just friends.”

“Promise?” she extends her pinky out towards you hesitantly, wondering if you’d fess up or keep going. She wasn’t against you and Jungkook being together, but she didn’t want a relationship to get between you both. Lea would’ve been fine if you just told her about you and him, but the thought of you keeping it a secret from them sent her into a trance.

“Promise,” you interlock yours with hers tightly.

She immediately beams at the contact, knowing that a pinky promise was sacred between the three of you. Nobody ever breaks a pinky promise without a good reason.

In a moment, Jungkook walks through the door and takes a seat beside you, glancing at your friend to familiarize himself with her. You make eye contact with her while she raises her eyebrows at you– questioning your motives with Jungkook despite the promise. He acknowledges your presence but he continues to do what he always does in class.

You look over to him and he looks just as cute as ever– his hair messily plastered on his face, making you want to lean over and part his hair through the middle. He looks down at his computer, typing whatever the professor just said before looking up at the board again.

He glances at you, feeling your stare, and he immediately starts blushing when he notices that you’ve been looking at him the whole time.

You don’t notice Lea squinting her eyes at you both– trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Jungkook, is that your girlfriend?” he points at you accusingly. You assume that it’s one of Jungkook’s friends from his frat, one where everyone seemed to believe that you and Jungkook were dating. He wiggles his eyebrows at the two of you– happy that Jungkook found someone he liked.

“Uh, actually-” his voice trails off. Just as Jungkook was about to deny it, he caught a look at the doorway where the creep just so happened to stand.

“Yes, she is.” He makes eye contact with you, trying to send you a clue on why he said that. You catch the hint when you follow his gaze, immediately smiling at him to let him know that you understood.

Lea immediately turns her head, expecting a response from you.

You really had no problem people thinking you and Jungkook were in a relationship. In fact, you enjoyed it quite a bit– his flushed look and blushing cheeks whenever someone mentions him having a girlfriend.

“Ohh, I thought so. You guys look good together– I was wondering when Jungkookie here would finally make a move. He’s been crushing on you for like the longest time-”

“Hyung! Stop it,” he interrupts. Embarrassed, he whispers something to his friend, playfully shoving him in the shoulder for exposing him. You hear him mutter, “I’ll talk to you later,” probably to tell him that we’re not actually dating. You make nothing of their interaction and instead, you just continue annotating and highlighting bullet points on your computer.

Once he leaves to go to his class, Lea whispers in your ear.

“So, your promise? Are you guys dating or not..” she seems genuinely confused. She trusted you and she knew that you weren’t lying, but part of her doubted you after Jungkook’s confession.

Jungkook’s friend and the creep had already left to their designated classes, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. The doorway was pretty much empty, so you felt like you could tell Lea everything now.

“We’re not,” you continue, “He’s just helping me stay away from someone,” you turn back to gesture at Jungkook. “There’s a guy from his frat bothering me and he’s making sure that I feel safe.”

Lea’s face turns to worry, asking you about the guy. She was concerned that he’d try doing something with you, and all her doubt went away as soon as you revealed that. She even thanked Jungkook for making you feel comfortable, apologizing to him for the death glares she kept sending his way.

You catch her up on everything that happened, from the grocery store to the conversation you had with Jungkook. You told her that there was practically nothing between you and him, except for this uncomfortable situation. You both were fine with it for now, and it was only temporary– until he leaves you alone.

Jungkook [04:58 pm]: hi, are u busy tn?

You [05:07 pm]: no, why?

You were surprised to see his text since he wasn’t one to text first, especially without a reason to– leaving you wondering if it was something important.

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: i wanted to ask if u wanted to go to a party w me

Jungkook [05:10 pm]: my friends kept asking why u weren’t coming & i panicked so i said u were

You [05:14 pm]: oh

Jungkook [5:15 pm]: i’m so sorry, u don’t have to come if u don’t want to

You [5:18 pm]: i do :)

You can practically picture his smile behind the screen. You had nothing to do and the night would be so much better if you spent it with him.

You [5:19 pm]: pick me up @7pm?

Jungkook [5:21 pm]: sure, i’ll be there

He saves your address on his phone, doing it early so that nothing goes wrong when he comes to pick you up.

“Y/N, I’ll get you water” he offers, already walking somewhere. He took one good look at you and he already knew you had too much to drink. You were stumbling all over the place, clutching onto the hem of his hoodie as he led you to the kitchen.

“Careful,” he whispers, grabbing your arms gently to prevent you from falling. He fawns at your clumsiness, wishing that he saw this side of you more often.

He immediately grabs the cup you’re holding, nearly empty, to stop you from drinking more. Letting you go for a bit, he walks away to the sink, pouring your drink, and heading to the fridge to get you water.

He hands you a bottle of water, then sits you on the counter– there were no nearby seats available and you looked like you were about to fall any second. You look so pretty right now, he thinks, looking down at you. Even on the counter, he’s still taller than you.

You feel delirious, eyes closing as you find yourself getting dizzy. You don’t even feel like yourself at this point– you were tired and you wanted to go home. You lean on Jungkook in front of you for support– not minding that you’re practically clutching onto him with your legs around his waist.

You were definitely not thinking about how silky his hair was and how much you wanted to run your hands through them. Or how drawn you are to his lips and literally everything about him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him. He was one hell of a man, and you couldn’t resist him standing in front of you.

His eyes seem connected to yours– both of you never blinking. He scans you from top to bottom, looking away once he realizes you staring at him back. He thought you’d find him weird or something like that.

You lay your hand on top of his on the counter– interlacing your fingers with one another.

“Y/N..” he whispers.

His breath hitches as he notices you leaning closer. He shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t think like this– you’re drunk. But you look so beautiful right now, he was so entranced by your features he just had to give in.

“Wait, w-we shouldn’t. Not when you’re drunk,” he stutters. It doesn’t feel right– he feels as if he’s taking advantage of you in this state. He wanted you bad, but he couldn’t.

Jungkook doesn’t know if you both are going too fast with this, especially since you just met recently. But he also doesn’t know how to stop the uncontrollable urge to kiss you– and he doesn’t care much anyway.

His nose brushes against yours– he closes his eyes, expecting to feel your lips against his.

“What the fuck?” The door slams open and Jimin, your best friend, walks in unannounced. His face contorts to an upset expression, and he just stands by the doorway looking at you both. You assume that Lea already told him there was nothing between you guys– yet he just walked in on you two trying to kiss each other.

Jungkook immediately steps back from you, his cheeks growing red by the minute. He pretends to be pouring another drink for himself, listening to your conversation with Jimin– which sounds more like a fight.

“You told Lea there was nothing between you guys! You know we’d be supportive if you’d just tell us the truth. Why did you have to lie,” he rambles.

“I didn’t! There’s nothing between us, i-it’s just-”

“Then why was he all up in your face? Why were you guys about to make out, hmm?” He mocks you both. Deep down, Jimin didn’t know why he was so angry– he assumed that you did lie to him but it wasn’t his business in the first place. He wasn’t sure why he was acting out, but just the thought of you lying to him and Lea set him off. He didn’t even notice that Jungkook was still in the room.

“We aren’t dating,” you huff, trying to get Jimin to listen to you for a minute. You know he felt hurt that he wasn’t the first to know, and the fact that you “lied” to him made it worse.

Once Jimin calms down and you explain everything to him like you did with Lea, he offers you a sympathetic glance. He doesn’t even mention what you and Jungkook were doing right before he walked in. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know what to say if he asked you again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N– for jumping into conclusions. I thought you lied to us,” he saddens. It was understandable for him to react this way, and you made sure to let him know that.

Now, with all the tension in the air, you stand up awkwardly. It was time to head home now– after the mood was ruined unintentionally.

“Uhm, J-Jungkook. Should we head home now?” you gesture to the time. You expected to leave much later, but after this, you couldn’t wait to curl up in your bed alone. He smiles at you, immediately grabbing his hoodie to head out. He says goodbye to a few of his fraternity brothers in the process– following right behind you and out the door.

The drive home was mainly silent since it just consisted of calm music and you sleeping peacefully.

He glances at you leaning your head against the window– head falling whenever there’s a bump or turn in the road. You look so peaceful right now– your soft features and delicate skin make him think you’re an angel.

He finds himself drifting his eyes to you every few minutes, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and asleep. He wished he’d stored a blanket in his car for you earlier– so that you wouldn’t shiver even when the heater is on.

You turn, waking up because of the loud music blasting in your headphones. Once you turn it off, you drift to sleep for the rest of the drive, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t mind though– at least he has more time to admire you and stare without you noticing him.

You don’t even react when he unbuckles your seatbelt for you when he pulls over in front of your house. He hated having to wake you up– but it turns out, he didn’t need to. You had just woken up in confusion, almost forgetting that you were at a party an hour ago. You only come to your senses when he opens the door right next to you, willfully grabbing your hand to lead you out.

“Hi,” he whispers when he sees you stirring, “we’re here.”

Though you feel sober, you still have a dizzying headache pulsing through your veins and you still stumble your way through the path.

“My keys.. are in my bag,” you say, shuffling through everything in frustration. You nearly drop your lip gloss on the ground– Jungkook catching it for you. You grow impatient as you lean on the door to hold you stable.

Jungkook leans in to do it for you. Immediately, he takes out your keys attached to a cute little cinnamoroll plushie and dangles it in front of you to ask if that was the right one. He turns the keys to unlock your door, pushing his way in for you. He was such a gentleman.

“Do you need me to help you lay down or anything?” he sweetly asks. It’s times like these when you’re so appreciative of him– of meeting him.

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ve ever met and you’re so lucky to have even come across him. It kind of makes you mad how easy it is to like him.

You nod, and he immediately closes and locks the door behind you. After telling him where your room was, he basically carried you there. You quickly change into your pajamas in the bathroom and when you come back, you find him staring at a picture of you and your old friends on the wall.

“What? Are you gonna make fun of my haircut?” you accuse playfully. You chuckle at his response, expecting him to comment at your horribly done makeup or your unbrushed hair in the photo.

“I just- well, you look so different here. When was this?” he pointed at you, Lea, and Jimin to your right in the photo.

“Three years ago.” You reminisce the memory of you and your friends having fun at the arcade, then taking pictures in the photo booth afterwards. You still cherish and hold that memory in your heart, one of the funnest days in your life.

That was when you three were just getting close, and now you were closer than ever.

Because you’re still drunk– your eyes start tearing up just a little, thinking about how much you love your friends. You become most emotional when you’re drunk, contemplating life and its pros and cons.

He stares at you, reveling in your emotional state– he never gets to see you like this, all vulnerable. But now Jungkook feels like he invaded your space, and he thinks that it’s time to go. He was about to speak up but you beat him to it.

“Urgh,” you cover your mouth with your hand, fighting the urge to vomit. It must’ve been the alcohol, but right now, you just needed to rush to the bathroom. Jungkook follows right behind you– making sure that you’ll be okay for the night.

“I'm-” urghh, “so sorry Jungkook,” you manage to let out between your pukes. He holds your hair behind you, carefully bunching it up into a ponytail so you wouldn’t have to go to sleep in puke-covered hair. Truthfully, he didn’t care if you were throwing up in front of him– you were equally as attractive as ever.

After a bit, he settles you down on your bed. You’re completely knocked out, snoring to your heart’s content. The next morning, he’s out of sight when you wake up.

“Y/N,” she calls you firmly, “you know you can’t hide anything from us right?”

She nudges at Jimin who was distracted by something on his phone– and only then does he agree. He didn’t seem interested much and continued to scroll without paying you much mind.

“Hide what?” you genuinely question, not thinking much of it. You had nothing to hide and you already told her everything before. You don’t understand why Lea suspected you– nothing ever happened between you and Jungkook.

“You like Jungkook, don’t you?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“What? No. What are you even talking about?” you were surprised at her sudden accusation. You were more surprised that she somewhat knew about your feelings– she figured you out so quickly.

You never had time to sit down and think about what you felt for Jungkook. You didn’t know if you even liked him in the first place, but you knew you were attracted to him. Did it develop into a crush?

“You’re literally blushing, you like him,” she teases. Lea was angry at first that you didn’t tell her what was going on between you and Jungkook. She later figured out that you were just starting to figure out your feelings for each other– and now she was the biggest shipper.

You stay silent, a bit surprised but also because you are thinking about Jungkook.

You liked him. It’s been a while since you liked someone, and Jungkook was a good person. You liked him a lot. It’s crazy that you’re only realizing this now, even after you guys almost kissed. Although, you also weren’t sure what to do with the information– you were absolutely not going to say anything.

Wholeheartedly, you believed that your feelings would fade over time. You kind of had an inkling that Jungkook was interested, even just a little bit, but you didn’t want to act on it first. It was too scary to deal with these newfound feelings.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you genuinely like anyone for a long time. I think you should go for it,” she says in a soft tone– opposite from how she talked to you when she first found out about you and Jungkook.

It was your birthday today. You don’t normally celebrate it and if you do, it’d just be with a couple of friends and a cake. You weren’t one to initiate plans though, so now you’re stuck in the library studying.

You carefully sort your papers in piles to review and those you’ve already read over. You recite the topics over and over– from equilibrium equations to molecular structures. Chemistry was about to be the cause of your death and you know it. It’s insane how many concepts and rules you had to remember.

Sighing, you opt for a small break in order to use the restroom and finish your acai bowl. As soon as you finish the last bite, you leave your stuff in the study room and head out to use the bathroom.

When you come back, you see someone approaching you hastily, flashing a smile at you. It was a guy– the same guy you saw in the store. The same one you were trying to avoid. You were quick to react, already turning your head to refuse eye contact, hoping that he’d get the hint. But of course he doesn’t.

“Hey! Hey, wait up! I’m talking to you, man, wait-” he runs to you, catching his breath. He grabs your shoulder to turn you around, not even caring about you trying to slip away. You knew he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still weird how persistent he was being, even when you had already rejected him inside the store before you even met Jungkook.

He licks his lips, clearly a bit agitated that he had to chase you down to get you to pay attention. He runs his hand through his greasy hair before placing them both in his pockets. He had this creepy smirk on his face– making you wonder what he has to say next.

“You’re cute. What’s your number again? And don’t say no this time,” he says jokingly. He presses you to answer him by coming closer to you. He seems oddly bold for someone who’s already been rejected before. You wished that he’d just leave you alone.

He doesn’t seem to understand what no means and it was painfully obvious.

“No,” you answer firmly, “I already said no before.” You try your best not to sound scared despite the shakiness behind your voice. He was way too close now– trying to intimidate you with his height.

You look down, knowing that his facial expression turned serious. He’s angry, you think, and it makes you more nervous than you intend. His eyes narrow at you, wondering if you’re joking or not– his ego is so big he can’t even fathom your rejection.

As he opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it by pushing him away harshly. He almost meets the ground out of impact, surprised that you would respond with physical intrications.

Quickly, you gathered all your stuff– which you thankfully already organized before your break and stuffed it into the backpack. Zipping it up, you make sure nothing is left behind. You head out to the opposite exit from where you both met without looking back.

Later, you check your messages after taking a nap. You were surprised to see over four new texts and three missed calls, most from someone you didn’t know.

Unknown [07:14 pm]: You really think you’re all that, huh?

Unknown [07:15 pm]: Bitch

Unknown [07:37 pm]: Answer me

Jungkook [08:02 pm]: hey, you awake?

It didn’t take long for you to know who it was, and you ultimately just chose to block the unknown number. You hoped that he wouldn’t continue to bother you anymore. Instead, you replied to Jungkook and apologized for not responding sooner.

“Yeah, that bitch is in love with me,” he hangs his head back to laugh. He licks his lips, feeling like he’s the man for having an admirer. He dabs up one of his friends, hands sliding against each other’s in the process.

Jungkook didn’t mean to overhear– he was just passing by and happened to eavesdrop in their conversation. He didn’t expect to hear them talking about someone he knew, especially about someone he cared about.

When he heard your name, he immediately started listening closer. He knows it’s not good news if the person that was being creepy to you was talking about you.

“Man, I didn’t know Y/N was such a slut,” he hits his other friend in the arm jokingly. He grins stupidly and shakes his head, imagining you flirting with lots of guys. His friend told him that you were in love with him, evidently by the way you apparently clutched onto him during the party. He rambled on about how clingy you were and how much you liked him– confessing to him every time you saw him. It was clear that those were all lies, but his friends believed him anyway.

Jungkook was beyond angry. It was ridiculous how they made up rumors about you– and the guy’s friends believed it wholeheartedly too without even questioning it. He thinks about how they are treating you, speaking so loud and not even caring who hears about it.

He walks to his locker to have a reason to stay there for longer. He justifies it as wanting to know what they say about you and that he wouldn’t say anything about it. As his fists close in frustration, he thinks about his promise to himself to walk away and ignore them. But he couldn’t. After he heard them talking about how easy you were, he couldn’t help it.

His right fist hits the guy right in the jaw, knocking him out in just one blow. His friend only stares in shock, not having the guts to fight back for his friend.

“What the fuck?” the guy on the ground cracks his neck. He immediately stands back up, having the intention to return the favor to Jungkook. His friend holds him back by the arms, not letting him go.

As the situation dissipates, Jungkook chooses to just walk away. He doesn’t want to cause more problems, and he definitely doesn’t want you to know about this. Knowing you, you’d scold him and wouldn’t let him get away with it. He just knows that he won’t tell you what they said– and he won’t let you be all sad over it if you find out.

Ignoring the whimpers and yells behind him, along with the stares he was getting across the hall, he scurries to his next class– not caring about his reddened knuckles. He doesn’t even care about what he did because he did not regret it. You were his biggest concern right now.

You were confused and restless after hearing your friend, Lea, tell you about Jungkook’s incident with a boy from school. You only found out about it later that afternoon, and you didn’t even know what the fight was about. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was about you– especially since that’s the only thing you could link the creeper with.

But, why would he start a fight for you in the first place? What happened that made him feel the need to do something? You were confused and you needed answers.

You bite your lip in nervousness of Jungkook possibly getting into a fight because of you. You felt guilty about it– especially since the rumors were practically everywhere.

After a while of slouching around your couch with a blanket over you, you decided to do something about it. You put on a black hoodie and texted him to meet up.

You waited at the nearest playground where you sat and swung yourself back and forth, keeping your eyes locked on the mural in front. You shift your eyes from the painted soccer ball to the figures in the painting. You think the little kid in the painting kind of resembled Jungkook– with his coconut hairstyle and all.

“Hey,” he taps you on the shoulder, making you flashback to when you guys first met. You were a bit startled, almost forgetting about you calling him. He looks around awkwardly before sitting down on the swing next to you.

“Hi,” you weren’t sure how to start. You were the one to call him, yet you waited for him to talk first. You wonder if you were crossing a line– it isn’t his responsibility to tell you anything. Were you too nosy? You were suddenly doubting yourself and even considered just telling him nevermind and going home.

“Y/N, is this about what happened earlier today?” he glanced at you expectantly, knowing immediately what you called him for.

Your mouth slightly gapes, shocked that he’s already figured you out. You nod in response, looking down to the floor where your feet scrape the ground.

“I mean, what happened? I-I was just curious.”

“Well, you called me like it was an emergency,” he had a smug grin on his face, “Were you worried about me hmm?”

You scoffed, denying him as soon as he said that. You shake your head and narrow your eyes at him, turning around when you feel yourself smiling. He laughs at your cute reaction and reaches in to brush your hair away from your face. You blush even more when you feel his fingertips tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

Suddenly, he seems more nervous, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

He clears his throat, “I-I like you, Y/N.” He licks his lips, waiting for your reaction.

For the second time today, you were shocked. First of all, you were definitely not expecting him to blurt it out just like that. You seriously contemplated leaving right then and there out of pure surprise, but you knew you couldn’t leave him hanging like that. You would regret it if you didn’t have time to share your feelings for him like he has for you.

You responded by grabbing his face and kissing him on the lips. It took a bit for him to finally comprehend that you were actually kissing him, but it was obvious he enjoyed it.

“I like you too, Jungkook,” you giggle, happy that he reciprocated your feelings. He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, he was ready for it. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks and ears, and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling. He was too cute.

When you stopped smothering each other with kisses, you just stared in each other’s eyes for a while before heading home together.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin ff #jungkook x oc #taehyung fluff #taehyung ff #bts fic #jungkook fic #taehyung x reader #bts ff

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gukcnt · 2 months ago

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FROM LULLABIES TO LOVE ⭒ M. LIST

in a cozy small town, a rich, grumpy single dad, kim taehyung hires a struggling girl as a nanny for his precious 3 year old son, sparking something. As their bond deepens through tension filled moments, betrayals and fear of love threaten to break them and an unexpected twist occurs in their forbidden relationship. Will they overcome their painful pasts to find a future together or will everything end for good?

pairing — dom!taehyung x sub!femreader

genre — small town au, contemporary romance, age gap (19 years), reader is of age, accidental pregnancy, forbidden love, forced proximity, friends with benefits to lovers, single dad!taehyung, dilf!taehyung, city girl!reader, nanny!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slight sugar daddy trope, pining, slowburn, contrast of worlds, romance, drama, angst, smut, fluff

warnings — 18+, explicit sex scenes, mature themes, emotional trauma and angst, portrayal of challenges faced by a single parent, heartbreak and separation, mental health struggles, emotional absence and fear of love, grief and loss, smoking and drinking alcohol, each chapter contains their individual warnings (reader discretion is advised due to the dark and potentially triggering content)

taglist — [open]

m. list

────୨ৎ────

⤷ 01 : to be released.

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liora-vespera · 6 months ago

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Bound By Darkness - Taehyung Oneshot

Genre: Romance, Supernatural, Dark Fantasy, Yandere

Warnings: Violence, Possessive Behavior, Dark Themes, Obsession, Mild Gore, Psychological Manipulation

Word Count: ~900

Don't forget to mention what you expect in requests, including genre.

-------------------------------------------------------

They said everyone had a guardian angel. Y/N had grown up hearing the stories—tales of beings of light watching over humans, guiding them, and keeping them safe. She never doubted it, not until she realized she was different. She had no angel watching over her.

Instead, she had him.

The feeling began in her teenage years, a heavy, suffocating sensation of being watched. Not the soft, comforting presence people described when they spoke of their angels, but a dark, possessive weight that seemed to coil around her soul. At first, she dismissed it as paranoia, but it grew stronger as time went on. And then, there were the incidents.

The night someone followed her home after a late shift at work, she had been cornered in a dark alley. Panic had seized her, freezing her limbs as the man advanced with a sinister grin. She had barely managed to scream before he was ripped away from her, his body hurled across the alley like a ragdoll.

Standing in the shadows was a man—no, something more. His eyes glowed crimson, his presence consuming. He didn’t speak as he stepped forward, his lips curling into a smirk that sent chills down her spine.

“It’s taken care of,” he had said simply before disappearing into the night.

From that day forward, Y/N knew she wasn’t alone.

Her protector wasn’t an angel. He was a demon.

---

Y/N hated the way she grew used to him. He didn’t always appear, but she could feel him, lurking in the shadows, watching. At first, she feared him, but as the years passed, that fear turned into a strange, twisted comfort. He was violent, ruthless, and possessive, but he kept her safe.

It wasn’t until she saw him up close for the first time that her fear returned tenfold.

It was late, and she had fallen asleep on her couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. A strange noise woke her, and she jolted upright, her heart racing. Standing at the edge of her living room, bathed in the soft glow of the TV, was him.

He was beautiful in a way that was almost inhuman. His sharp features were framed by dark hair that fell into his piercing eyes, and the faint glow of red in his irises made her shiver. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as if he had been waiting for her to notice him.

“You’re more careless than I thought,” he said, his deep voice sending a chill down her spine.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, clutching a throw pillow to her chest as if it could shield her from him.

“Watching over you.” He tilted his head, his eyes scanning her face with an intensity that made her squirm. “You’re mine to protect, Y/N. No one else is allowed to touch you.”

The possessiveness in his tone was unnerving.

“Who are you?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Taehyung,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Your guardian demon.”

---

Taehyung was everything Y/N had been taught to fear. He didn’t just protect her; he annihilated anyone who posed a threat. When her coworker got too close, Taehyung ensured the man never came near her again. When she rejected his help, he reminded her that she had no choice.

“You don’t get to decide,” he growled one night, pinning her against the wall after she tried to confront him about his violent methods. His eyes burned with anger, but there was something else beneath it—something raw and desperate. “You’re mine, Y/N. I will keep you safe, whether you like it or not.”

His touch was cold but electrifying, and it terrified her how easily she melted under his gaze. He was dangerous, unrelenting, and completely obsessed with her.

But what scared her the most wasn’t him. It was the way her heart raced whenever he was near, the way she found herself searching for him in the shadows, craving his presence despite the fear.

She was falling for her guardian demon.

---

Taehyung’s love was suffocating, but it consumed her in ways she couldn’t escape. He was dark and violent, but he was also hers—just as she was his.

“Don’t you see, Y/N?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing her cheek as he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that stole her breath. “You were never meant for anyone else. I’ve been watching you your entire life. You belong to me.”

And somehow, despite everything, she believed him.

She didn’t have a guardian angel. She had a guardian demon. And he would burn the world to the ground to keep her safe.

---

The End

#kim taehyung #taehyung #bts fanfic #taehyung ff #taehyung imagine #bts #bts ff #bts fic #dark romance #bts taehyung #kim taehyung bts #kth #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #jk

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koooobi · 9 months ago

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Devil Town | Teaser (M)

genre: paranormal, ghost!au, supernatural, smut, fluff, angst

pairing: ot7 bts x reader

series masterlist | masterlist

Your first few days in the house were a whirlwind of unpacking and organizing. You carefully placed your favorite books on the shelves, hung up curtains that caught the light just right, and arranged cozy touches that turned each room into a small sanctuary. Boxes lay scattered, slowly dwindling in number as you added pieces of yourself to the space, arranging and rearranging until it felt less like an empty shell and more like a home.

By the time you were finished, you sighed in satisfaction, leaning against the worn wooden banister that framed the staircase. It was quiet—almost too quiet—but the kind of silence that felt peaceful, wrapping you in a sense of calm. You didn't notice it at first, the faint sounds overhead, until you settled onto the couch with a cup of tea and heard a soft, rhythmic tapping drifting down from above, coming from the attic.

You tried to brush it off. Old house, old noises, you told yourself, trying to dismiss it as just the floorboards settling. But curiosity gnawed at you, and with each passing minute, the sound seemed to grow louder, almost rhythmic, as if calling your name.

At the top, you hesitated before pushing open the attic door, half-expecting dust and cobwebs, maybe a few forgotten boxes. But as your flashlight's beam swept across the room, you froze. Across from you, lined up along the far wall, was a row of portraits. Each one was framed in intricate, dark wood, perfectly preserved but muted in haunting grayscale tones.

Chills prickled down your arms as you moved down the row, taking in the portraits one by one. A strange familiarity tugged at you, though you couldn't place it. You didn't know them, but something about them felt almost... known.

And then, something changed. Each portrait bore a small brass plate, each engraved with a single name, each name familiar, but now feeling strange and haunting in this setting. Seokjin. Yoongi. Hoseok. Namjoon. Jimin. Taehyung. Jungkook.

#bts yandere #bts ff #bts x reader #jungkook ff #taehyung ff #jimin ff #jung hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jimin #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts smut

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gard3nias · 2 months ago

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34| On the highway to Forever

⤎ previous page | ❃ | next page ⤏

wc: 11.76k

date: 09/05/2025

mdi // masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

Title inspired by ACDC's Highway To Hell

—Now playing: Loving Is Easy by Rex Orange County, Benny Sings ✫

Remember when we said that Taehyung's satisfaction was light years away from being reached? Well, Daphne's was even further away, being the only possible result of so much restraint she'd placed on herself.

For the total distance to be calculated, the two combined needed a new measuring unit, something faster than light.

Perfect. There is a great idea, but it would be hard to choose.

Whose heart beats faster?

Don't worry too much. Regardless of who you pick, the speed will still be faster than light. We simply need a greater measuring unit.

Like the Latins say, melius abundare quam deficere. Right?

Just like a kiss had sent them spiralling, so did a simple post on their stories drive their friends crazy.

Before they made it home, their phones had buzzed so much that perhaps collectively they could've sped up the plate tectonic movement, saving up maybe a couple of millions of years.

"Oh, my God. Cleo's been waiting for this," Daphne softly laughed. She checked her notifications to find them littered with numerous messages all written in caps and gibberish.

Three photos were included. She'd later discover that they were selfies all to show how happy her friend was for her, in Cleo's way; you guess it.

"How long has it been?" Taehyung laughed with her and peeked into her phone, only to see a long thread of messages.

"Not even a minute, I believe. Jimin texted me as well."

"Jimin?" He asked in disbelief. Daphne was in disbelief as well. She didn't know they were that close—at least not according to an introvert like her.

They didn't pay them much attention, preferring to focus on each other for the few remaining moments of their date before they'd get home.

Unlike on their way coming, the train station was isolated, void of people. Here, too, they could count the human presence around them on one hand.

There was no interplay between cold and warm tones anymore. The orange writings on the panel above their heads simply remained as a stark contrast to the pitch black sky of the night.

The lack of travellers allowed more space for the eerie cold breeze to slither through the station and all the possible cracks in its way.

"I am never!" Daphne began in a feigned deep and angry voice, "Never ever wearing a dress in winter. Ever again! In fact—" Taehyung burst into laughter, holding his stomach and throwing his head back.

Could you blame him? Daphne was furiously moving up and down while trying to rub as much of the surface of her legs as possible—obviously failing as well.

"Anything half a centimetre above my ankles is a no-go area because," she hissed, approaching Taehyung. Through gritted teeth and in a high-pitched frustrated tone, she almost plead with him, "What the fuck is this cold?"

He wouldn't stop laughing, yet tried to reach over and hug her to shield her from the freezing weather.

"I don't know." He pinched her cheek and whined with her, wrapping his arms around her figure. "Come on, let's do some jumping jacks, so I remember the day I wanted to kiss you."

She froze, a smile tugging at her lips, but flaring eyes glaring at him. "What are you trying to do, Kim Taehyung?"

"Ooh, full name." He feigned being scared, his amusement betraying his voice. "I'm not trying to do anything... other than warming you up, of course."

She wasn't convinced, wanting to pull out of the hug to take a good look at his face. "Thank your god I'm feeling cold right now."

She hid her face in his arms, and he giggled, mischief slithering in his tone. "You always tell me to thank my god. What if I don't have one?"

"Taehyung!" She whined again, voice muffled from the hug. "Shut up."

He let out a low laugh, tightening his embrace.

"You should be nicer. I'm making sure you don't experience hypothermia." He joked, leaning closer to peck her cheek.

She didn't reply, giggling as she looked up and kissed him.

She'd lost count. Their date surely didn't last twenty-four hours, not even twelve. So the proportion was crazy, considering they've been officially a couple for maybe thirty minutes.

Yet, they'd already kissed so many times. And it wouldn't change in the long run.

Throughout the week, they'd behaved like newlyweds, but there goes the chance to argue. Newlyweds, on a normal basis, have a history, a series of events that determined their current state.

Daphne and Taehyung don't, at least not enough for them to behave like they do. And this was a popular opinion.

But in a relationship, what matters isn't the time spent together. It's the quality.

—Now playing: Chamber of Reflection by Marc DeMarco ✫

It explains why, according to Daphne, the week flew by, barely giving her the chance to fully welcome the changes in her life.

It first started on Sunday when she woke up to the pinging sound of a notification. It was his good morning selfie, most likely taken seconds after waking up. He looked dishevelled, to say the least—he'd gone to bed late, given the hours they returned home, and woke up early.

She got out of bed, looking in the mirror to adjust her hair before replying with a picture. As she typed a message to attach to it, she giggled, biting her lip to conceal the excitement. Funny because she was the only person in her room.

Who could judge her? Who could tease her about it? No one, really. At least, not now.

Once it was sent, she threw herself on the bed, accidentally waking up Loki, who'd been sleeping by her feet. She softly chuckled, apologising to the dog with a gentle caress.

A while later, as she brushed her teeth, the phone rang in her bedroom. She tiptoed to her bed, strongly hoping it was Taehyung, who wanted to FaceTime with her, but instead, her best friend's picture popped up on her screen.

Her shoulders slumped, remembering the threatening promise Cleo'd made the previous night.

If the curly-haired girl could, she would've paid a band to play a nice song as she congratulated her friend. "Finally!" She exhaled, shaking her head. "Took y'all so long—"

"How quickly were you expecting us to become a couple?"

Cleo shrugged. "How about from the moment y'all played ping-pong together at the party and later on, he offered you his cigarette—not a new one, but the one he was smoking."

Daphne rolled her eyes, dropping onto her pillows. She could hear Cleo's mischievous giggles on her phone.

Loki followed her movements, scooting closer to place his muzzle on her thigh. "It's just Cleo," Daphne murmured as she caressed the animal.

"Hey! What did Cleo do?" The sound was loud and clear, and Daphne couldn't help but laugh, moving the camera to show the dog.

"What has Cleo not done? Look, even Loki is exhausted.""Oh, shut up."

Cleo was just the first of many to tease Daphne about her relationship status. Following up were her parents, her mother, especially.

"Last night, you were so tired. I didn't want to bother you." The Rhodes were gathered around their dining table, peacefully having breakfast. Even the dogs were having their meals in a corner.

Daphne's mom proceeded. "How did the date go?" The Dad looked up from his plate, eyes on Daphne's progressively red face.

The girl cleared her throat, feeling heat overwhelm her senses. Had she forgotten that her parents would get curious as well? Especially her mom, since she helped her get dressed?

"Fine." Her voice was almost nonexistent. Her dad chuckled, taking a spoonful of cereal, while the mother tried not to smile so her daughter wouldn't get even more shy.

"Just—" she cleared her throat, treading with caution, "—fine?"

Daphne's spoon was going on its fourth spin in the sea of milk and cereal. She wasn't shaking her leg as one would suspect, but her toes were torturing each other, just as her free hand wouldn't stop playing with the tablecloth.

Bracing herself and staring deeply into the visually uninteresting bowl of cereal before her, she spoke up, "He asked me to be his girlfriend."

Her Mom gasped, reprimanding herself immediately after, while the Dad didn't utter a word. He simply looked up again and quickly glanced at his wife. They smiled.

"Yeah?" The woman continued. Her eyes wouldn't stop searching for her husband's as if begging for help.

Daphne wanted to facepalm herself, squeeze her eyes shut, and possibly melt into her seat. Why did her mother ask her that question? She'd just told her that Taehyung asked her to be his girlfriend. Precisely, he said he'd liked being her boyfriend, the other way round. But Daphne would never utter such to her parents. The conversation was already killing her enough.

After numerous insisting glares, her Dad sat up and cleared his throat. "Did you say yes?"

Straight to the point. His wife wished she could kick him in the shins. Why did he say that?

The woman knew her daughter so well. She saw it on the girl's face. It's not like they were torturing her in the objective manner. She was shy, and to keep her from hiding in her shell like a turtle, they needed to tread with caution.

"What did you tell him, darling?" Her mother's words warmed up her ears, the lobes were visibly red. Ugh, she was going to combust right in their eyes.

The more she dragged it, the worse she'd get. She even feared that if she looked up, they'd jump, startled by her new shape. Just imagine how scary it would be for parents to see that their child had grown a tomato in place of her head.

Swallowing down on nothing but the imaginary lump in her throat, Daphne looked up, meeting her parents' curious eyes.

Well, they weren't startled, so maybe she wasn't as red as she feared.

"I said yes—" The parents exclaimed in joy, immediately freezing the following moment, apologising for the commotion.

"Wow! So now you're a couple?" This time, the woman didn't hold back and kicked her husband in the shins without hesitation.

The man saw stars for a split second, while the woman smiled and tried rephrasing his question. "So—"

"Yes, we're a couple," Daphne said in a single breath. "Now, can I finish my breakfast without dying of embarrassment?"

"Oh, but this is not embarrassing—"

"Not for you, Dad. Certainly not for you. This is not— I— Forget it." The parents knew what their daughter meant. She couldn't help but grow so timid around topics like this, especially if the adults in the room were giggling and silently teasing her about it.

After her parents came her grandparents.

Daphne fixed her bed, had a shower, and got dressed to head to Cleo's for another round only-God-knows-what-number of teasing.

Her outfit was nothing extravagant. She simply had to revise a bit with Cleo, so grey sweatpants and the wool sweater were the ideal choice to keep herself warm.

Moments later, as she walked past her grandparents' front door, she regretted her fashion choices. Even the chilly weather of December felt threatened by how quickly Daphne stopped feeling cold.

The big door creaked open, revealing two excited elderly people. "Daphne?" They called, and the girl immediately wished a strong gust of wind came from nowhere and blew her away.

Readying herself for the teasing, she approached them.

"Yes?"

If her mother was meant to tame her dad, her grandparents were meant to fuel each other. "Are you two dating now?" Grandpa went straight to the point, while Granny simply smiled, just as eager to hear the answer.

With a very shy smile and her eyes refusing to look at them, she replied almost with a sigh. "Yes, we're—" They started jumping around, happily rejoicing, while Daphne slowly murmured the rest of her reply. They didn't need to hear her say they were officially a couple. They'd already come to the conclusion on their own.

The girl didn't know what to do, spending a couple of moments watching them celebrating, so she tried excusing herself. They didn't hear her or bother when she eventually walked away, constantly glancing at them.

As she approached Cleo's gate, their voices still echoed through the dry winter air.

—Now playing: Sucker by Jonas Brothers ✫

Monday was just the beginning of the dances.

On the bus, Taehyung still sat in the front with Adrielle, but it was irrelevant. The two lovebirds had phones of their own, and even if they didn't, their eyes were more than enough to communicate with each other.

Cleo wouldn't stop glancing at them, giggling within herself, while Adrielle believed the harder she revised on her iPad, the better it would be for her. You guessed it.

If the students in their school had made bets, those hoping Daphne and Taehyung would end up dating would've won.

Regardless of the hang-out spot they chose during recess, the two now radiated an energy and great comfort that screamed volumes at any passerby. Now, they didn't need any excuse to hug each other and remain in the embrace for longer than expected.

On Tuesday, during a short break between classes, Daphne decided to rush out and head to the bathroom, meeting Avyanna on her way there.

Luckily for her, the girl was headed to class because the mischievous wink she gave Daphne was a threatening promise of intense teasing.

Once she'd made it to the bathroom, Daphne walked into a stall, closing the door and sighing. For a moment, she seemed exhausted but right after, she was smiling, fighting against the urge to scream in excitement and probably scare the shit out of any girl in the other stalls.

The study sessions at the library were just slightly different now that they were a couple. That restraint they struggled to respect before was nowhere to be found, discarded like a piece of trash.

If they spent three hours there, at least an hour and forty-five minutes were spent teasing each other. Push and pull.

Daphne would drape her legs on his, and he would tickle the back of her knee just to get a reaction from her. The next second, they'd fooled themselves into believing they'd got serious. They'd lock in, but as soon as either rested their head on the table, the other would mirror them, gradually closing the distance until they kissed.

They'd giggle and return to focus only after sharing a couple more kisses because why not?

Wednesday was probably worse in Daphne's terms.

After spending the afternoon 'studying' at the library, the two walked together to the gym to watch the practice matches, a tradition by now.

They just didn't know that Jimin, Avyanna, and Adrielle were waiting for them outside the gym.

"Here they come!""The newlyweds!"

Knowing Jimin and Avyanna, the hails and compliments didn't stop there. Adrielle simply laughed, playing into a character she'd mastered for years. Although she wouldn't dare say anything to join her friends' crazy train.

There was nothing her brain could muster to complement the couple.

So... first was Cleo, then her parents, her grandparents, Cleo again, Nick and James, Jimin, Jungkook, Avyanna. Someone's missing, right?

"You've been dating for a week and haven't told me? All this while?" Dayanne feigned literal heartbreak, clutching her chest as if Daphne had single-handedly stabbed her with a dagger. The younger one couldn't help but laugh.

She lay prone in her bed, moving her feet in the air. Since her bedroom door was open, her dogs roamed around, going in and out and occasionally getting onto the bed.

"Dayanne, you know I can call you only on Saturdays." She tried excusing herself. "The last time we called, I was preparing for the date."

"And you thought I wouldn't have appreciated an update about it?"

Daphne rolled on her back, keeping the phone hovering over her face. "I did post a few pictures here and there—"

"And you know that sometimes I go on without checking my social media because of school. You do it too, girl."

"If I have to be honest, lately, I've been doing it less—"

"Yes, because you had to stalk your boyfriend's profile." Daphne chuckled, her cheeks warming up at the choice of words.

Yet another reminder. Another reality check.

Dayanne noticed it, the silence, the diverting glance. She could also see the subtle smile her sister tried to conceal.

"I can't wait to see the boy who has got my sister like this!"

All attempts at not burning up flew out of the window as Dayanne's words burst through the door and into the room, unwelcome.

It was true. Eventually, Taehyung would get to know her family. Her mother saw him on Saturday before the date. Granny knows well enough to know exactly what to cook to have him come around often—but we all know why he'd come over.

Her dad and granddad were yet to fully meet him, but, out of all, Dayanne was the only one who knew nothing about him—just a picture Daphne once showed her. That was it.

"Okay, let's stop talking about me. What about you?"

—Now playing: Cool With You by Her's ✫

Taehyung's experience after the date was similar, but he handled it differently, not being as shy as Daphne around topics such as his feelings.

When he parked the car before his garage on Saturday night, the neighbourhood was silent. Dogs barked in the distance, and a soft breeze blew through the space, stirring the few leaves left on the trees.

As he locked his car, the beeping sound disrupted this silence, along with his rather long sigh, which conveyed his disappointment.

With a hand in his pocket and a rather droopy head, he turned around to walk to his front door but froze midstep when he caught the curious eyes of Nana and his mom, watching him through the window.

He smiled and chuckled within himself.

Just a few steps onto the pathway to the house, the door swung open, revealing his excited family.

"So? How did it go?" His mom spoke for both.

He didn't speak for a while, feeling their eyes follow his every movement. He reached the door and walked in. The women wouldn't leave, transfixed on him and waiting for an answer.

He still didn't utter a word, took off his jacket and shoes to pet his dog. For a moment, Nana and his mom felt something was wrong. Until he turned around with a big smile on his face.

"It went amazing," he finally said, and the women hollered together, clapping their hands and sharing his joy.

"He said 'amazing'.""I told you that they're a match made in heaven. Butterflies and flowers go hand in hand."

Their compliments seemed to have no end as they linked arms with him, heading to the living room. "You have to tell us everything—"

Taehyung threw his head back and complained, a smile still on his face. "But Mom, you know I'm really into all that gossipping stuff."

He told them as much as he could without blushing too hard. You guessed it. He obviously omitted the Ferris Wheel ride—he just hinted at it—and the details of what transpired after the photobooth.

"We took pictures together... We walked to the train station... We waited for the train..." His words sort of went like that.

When finally they freed him from the shackles of their deep curiosity, Taehyung went to his bedroom, quickly hitting the shower before going to bed.

He couldn't deny that he was a little sad to wash off the red lip tint stains on his lips and cheeks. They were meant to be tattoos. Regardless, he mentally took a picture of himself before the shower, feeling his insides tingle.

Just as before, he emitted a disappointed sigh, this time, as he dropped onto his bed. The date eventually came to an end, rightfully so. Life was all about beginnings and ends, but it didn't mean one couldn't create a long chain of them.

The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual thanks to his sometimes-annoying dog. At first, he was slightly annoyed, but when his mind fully left Dreamland, he was reminded of his relationship status. Easy.

So he reached for his phone and sent Daphne a good-morning selfie. Not surprisingly, he soon received a reply and chuckled. It was never too early for Daphne, was it?

Self-discipline is a key element in a good student's habits. It keeps them grounded and helps them build consistency. Taehyung had that. Daphne too. And yet, as they tried to study Sunday afternoon, they just couldn't fully focus.

Unlike the girl, who had Cleo as a constant reminder, almost like a string stopping her balloon-like mind from flying away into space, Taehyung was alone in his bedroom, reading two sentences and daydreaming a full life story.

He'd furiously rub his face, groan and softly slap his cheeks. It didn't work. Then he'd stop and look for a video essay on the topic he was studying. Still no results. In fact, the audio from it turned into the soundtrack to his fantasies. So he tried looking for already-made notes online and found some really good ones, but it was to no avail because he couldn't focus long enough to read a full page.

Only thanks to Adrielle did he get some work done. He, too, needed a human alarm to wake him up from his dreams, so he FaceTimed his friend, who was glad to help him study.

—Now playing: All I Wanted by Paramore ✫

Tutoring was Adrielle's niche. Talking about what she knew was the only way to conceal her shy nature because she didn't have to focus on social cues.

She, as well, was studying in her bedroom when her phone rang and Taehyung's picture popped onto the screen. It's easy to guess that she didn't question it and immediately answered. He barely hesitated, going straight to the point.

Her heart screamed, but her face didn't twitch. She nodded. She answered. She matched his pace, quickly accepting and asking him what subject he had to study. He even offered to help her in return. She accepted not because she really needed it, but because it was an excuse for him to stay online with her longer.

Now, one might wonder why she'd be so desperate for attention all of a sudden. The two have known each other since birth, given the friendship between their parents, and, with time, their friendship turned into brotherhood, gaining the dynamics siblings have.

But this wasn't a shared fact. It was only according to Taehyung.

She'd had feelings for him for a long time, but never the guts to step up, fading in the background to watch him go on with his life, unaware of her emotions.

Whenever he found someone new, it opened a can of poisonous worms for her, the trigger to her now chronic disease—a state of deep discomfort and hurt.

The previous night, she saw his Instagram repost and the thread of pictures about his date, including the ones from the photobooth, the last blow to make her crumble.

The photo in his story came with no caption. It didn't need one. It was taken by Daphne. The two were hugging, her head leaned against his chest, and, unless one wanted to be delusional and not believe that it was a straight giveaway, they already seemed like a couple.

Adrielle couldn't truly describe how she felt when she recognised the restaurant from his post. They'd visited it together once. She discovered it thanks to him and Jimin. As she watched herself around that day, she envisioned the type of memories one could encapsulate in an artistic sanctuary like that.

Now, a place once colourful had dimmed into shades of black and white. All its features, the tables, the chairs, the paintings, flowers, and portraits, seemed to melt under the scorching burn of Adrielle's pain.

He'd been there with her.

Four frames from the photobooth, among them was the wrecking ball to her heart. The impact which caused the greatest damage.

She could tell Daphne was on his lap, given her slightly elevated position. Her hands cupped Taehyung's face and dragged him in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocated as he smiled into it. A kiss, too casual to be their first. The kind that comes after certainty. The kind Adrielle had dreamed of, but never dared to try.

She'd lost a battle she never openly fought.

She didn't know what troubled her the most. The fact that Daphne was in his lap, the kiss, her hands on him, or the joyful expression he had.

The other pictures caused more destruction, although on a lower scale.

They were smiling. Glee and happiness etched on their faces in each other's company. The Taehyung Adrielle knew was nowhere to be found. Someone who seemed always serious now beamed, doing peace signs and funny faces with her, Daphne.

Maybe she had to blame it on her social awkwardness because Taehyung could be goofy when he wanted, especially with Jimin and Jungkook, but the girl refused to place herself as the problem.

She'd known Taehyung for as long as she could remember. Her parents were friends with his, even now that they were divorced. But he was different. Time seemed irrelevant to him.

When his family went through problems, he refused to open up to anyone, not Jungkook, not Avyanna, not Jimin, not her, again, despite their years of friendship. She obviously didn't force it out of him. She couldn't. What sort of friend would she be?

But she couldn't overlook the hazy pain she felt. She thought they were close enough for him to easily open up. At first, she tried blaming herself, but soon enough she realised she wasn't the problem, especially considering he said nothing to no one.

Now, she feared Daphne would become that person to him, the shelter, the home he needed. And Daphne couldn't. She was an intruder, the problem, and Taehyung couldn't trust a problem. But was she truly the problem? Or was Adrielle misplacing her dislike?

It was funny how she always managed to find a problem in anyone but herself.

That's how humans are coded anyway. They have to preserve themselves. The enemy comes from the outside, and, just as the white cells kill foreign beings, so do humans. The problem is never from the inside, or is it always so?

She scrolled back up to the photobooth picture.

Daphne's hand was on his cheeks. His smile looked different. Not polite, not performative—unburdened. Like someone had finally reached the part of him Adrielle could never find.

Her stomach twisted.

She turned off her phone, face down, and lay back on her bed. The ceiling stared at her blankly, and she stared back. She could feel the tears pressing behind her eyes, but they didn't fall.

That was the thing about Adrielle.

She didn't cry when it hurt. She froze.

Initially, she didn't want to talk about his new relationship despite how strange it might come off to him. She didn't want to utter a word. Not a compliment. Not a comment. But she couldn't.

She couldn't let him see the truth. He'd drown in the depths of her feelings, and she wouldn't be at peace if anything happened to him and their friendship. It would even drag her into a panic because she had an image to maintain.

But then the foreign being attacked.

Taehyung leaned closer to his phone, visibly checking his notifications and smiling. Adrielle didn't know who he could be texting or what could have amused him. He momentarily disabled the camera and returned after supposedly replying.

As already mentioned, the possibilities could be many—messages couldn't be the only notifications he received—but Adrielle's wrecked heart and mind refused to analyse it further, labelling Daphne as the culprit.

Just like it had felt for two and a half years when Willow was around, on Monday morning, Adrielle's mind was reluctant to exit the house. The thought of staying on the bus for almost an hour next to someone who, despite their efforts, would still unwillingly make her feel like a shadow, made her stomach uncomfortably spin.

She felt like the unmoving centre in a dynamic world. Everyone changed around her without a thought.

In reality, Taehyung's attitude toward her never changed, and she was well aware of that. But her feelings had simmered in her soul for so long that even a glance in Daphne's way made her feel like Taehyung had cursed the day they became friends.

For this reason, Adrielle tried to avoid the new couple as best as she could, scared she'd act out on her very old but omnipresent feelings.

—Now playing: Everything I Want by Beabadoobee✫

Daphne had been sort of tortured by her family and friends. Taehyung's turn came on Wednesday.

It began with the exaggerated compliments he and Daphne received as they walked to the school gymnasium, but he'd see the full extent of it once at Jimin's place.

The boys had a sleepover on the occasion of Jungkook's basketball game. The boy wanted to organise a sort of afterparty and saw it fit to discuss with his friends. Furthermore, the sleepover was also a way to cage Taehyung and retrieve some information about his date.

The two friend groups merged into one on the bus as they went home. Cleo chatted with Nick, James, and Jungkook. Asher took a nap in a corner. Adrielle was dragged into a gossip session she truly didn't want to be part of, and, at last, Taehyung and Daphne were in their usual spots at the back of the bus.

The position slightly isolated them from their mates, allowing them to revel in the beauty of each other's company, especially considering the new circumstances. Their bags were left on a seat beside them, removing any physical obstacle between them, and, for a while, Daphne's legs rested above his as they played video games together.

Her back was to the window, and her knees were warm under the touch of his hand. He'd caress her one moment and return his hand to the phone when the match started, leaving her feeling nostalgic for his physical attention.

His brief moments of distraction were her chance to observe him, internally smiling. His hair had grown longer since the first time she had laid eyes on him. It made her wish that one day he'd let her play with it, style it into braids or buns, or he'd hold it back in a man bun. As of now, the soft strands fell from his head, caressing his cheeks and framing his face.

His leather jacket was left open, revealing a green-themed striped sweater. For bottoms, he wore oversized brown pants, and his big boots, which she'd deduced were his go-to in cold seasons.

When his hands weren't on her legs, they'd hold the phone or comb through his soft hair. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, his wrists with the usual friendship bracelets and a digital wristwatch. As she watched him, she wondered how good she'd feel if she got him a bracelet or a necklace—anything really—and he wore it.

The music playing from her phone recalled her attention, signalling the beginning of the match, and finally, she placed an end to her moment of deep admiration. She couldn't help but be thankful because the urge to cup his face and drag him in for a kiss grew stronger the more her eyes lingered on him.

As he'd anticipated on Saturday, on Monday morning, Adrielle announced the winter prom night and the snowball fight on the school's community blog. Daphne couldn't deny and say she didn't feel slight pride when the post didn't come as news. Personally, she interpreted it as one of the many layers of trust in her growing relationship with Taehyung.

—Now playing: Infrunami by Steve Lacy ✫

It surprised her how quickly she changed as soon as they named their relationship. Maybe it stemmed from her habitual anxiety, but the label grounded her, cleared her insecurities. It was an anchor, the proof that she wasn't living in a world of delusion, and those little moments shared with him, which felt ecstatic, meant something to him, too.

It was also her 'go-ahead', the gunshot, the whistle blow that told her she was free to go, to let her feelings run wild and surface. It meant she didn't have to overthink her actions or be watchful not to send the wrong messages.

After being exposed to the cold weather of the season, the warmth provided in the bus felt as comforting as a thick blanket on a chilling winter night. What made it even harder for Taehyung was Daphne's presence and willingness to hold him.

They soon grew fed up with playing video games, especially after losing too many matches in a row. He claimed the algorithm was setting them up, and they had to click off. She slipped her phone in the pocket of her bag and he in the one of his jacket.

As she placed the phone in, she brought out the earphones. One look at them as she untangled them, Taehyung smiled, pleased with her silent suggestion. Taking the extreme end, he connected it to his phone, claiming it was his turn, and they'd have to listen to his playlists.

She didn't object, focusing on untangling the final parts before they could plug them in, one for each. Finally, she leaned back against the window, and Taehyung saw it as an opportunity to lay in her arms, his back meeting her chest. She welcomed him—always would. Kicking the bags away in the next seat, Taehyung made space to accommodate his legs and fully indulge in the growing comfort.

He abandoned himself to the warmth despite how scary it was. It was a thought that bothered him whenever it resurfaced in his mind. Yes, he liked Daphne—a whole lot, actually, considering that she'd walked into his life shortly after he'd broken up with one of his best friends and long-term girlfriend at the time.

It had been a shock to him, especially because he found no problems in the relationship. But it was running smoothly, only apparently, because there were little bumps along the way—bumps and not full-length walls. Out of all, he never thought distance would be the tipping point, the final step before he'd fall off the cliff.

He liked dedication in a relationship and, yes, maybe he was stupid for having such an opinion, but he believed his view was shared by many. Who wouldn't want to dedicate themselves to a serious relationship? Who wouldn't like that to be reciprocated?

No one. At least in their right state of mind.

This dedication meant that physical obstacles were never to be a problem. The only thing that can end a relationship lies in the feelings of the couple, he believed. Again, physical obstacles were never to be a problem.

Only after hearing Willow's words did Taehyung realise that maybe his conception of love and a romantic relationship wasn't as universal as he'd thought.

She had to move away to a distant city because of her father's job, and that was enough for her to quickly call off the relationship.

It stunned Taehyung, especially considering the years of friendship between them before the eventual romantic relationship.

Regardless, thanks to his friends, and most especially Daphne, he didn't lose hope in love, despite how scary it was to see that, after all he'd done, it would never be enough.

He just needed to learn that people are different.

He enjoyed the physical contact with Daphne, the proximity, the feeling of her chest heaving as she breathed, her signature scent, the soft texture of her hair as it grazed his cheek, and her arms wrapped around his neck—his favourite scarf now.

The moment made him realise that cuddling would soon become his new addiction. Again, it was scary, he couldn't deny it.

—Now playing: Show Me How by Men I Trust ✫

Satisfied with his song choice, he turned his device off and fully leaned into her touch, the soft caresses on his hand, and the delicate pecks that ghosted his cheeks. He closed his eyes, not because the song was hitting right. He just needed to isolate himself for a split second as if looking for confirmation: he indeed felt those emotions thanks to Daphne.

Unfortunately, their fun was cut short.

Jungkook left his group, making way for himself by softly moving Cleo aside, and approached them, holding the seats around him to keep his balance.

Oh, if he knew the heat such a delicate touch triggered in the girl.

"I am so, so sorry," he began theatrically, darting left and right with the movement of the bus and resting his elbows on the seats, "To interrupt your honeymoon, but what I'm about to say is beyond me."

Taehyung peeked an eye open, refusing to fully withdraw from his state of deep comfort. Daphne, whose chin was perched on his head, simply moved her gaze to Jungkook, arms still around Taehyung's neck.

"Jimin, your husband, and I have a sleepover to enjoy tonight at the blondie's house, and—" he reached over to snatch Taehyung away "—we'll be getting off in a few moments, so please..." Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle under his breath when none of them complained about how he called Taehyung.

"A sleepover?" His friend was confused, Daphne knew nothing, and Jungkook couldn't take the situation seriously. "What sleepover?—"

"Jeez, were you already falling asleep? I'm the one who just finished training, and here I am. Tae, get your ass up and let's go. We've planned this shit last week." That was when it hit him.

If Adrielle could read minds, she'd feel content. She'd get up from her seat, screaming "I told you, I told you!" because, as he got off his girlfriend and leaned over to grab his belongings, he acknowledged the huge distraction she'd been to him. And it hadn't been a week since they started dating.

Best believe he wasn't complaining, though.

Reluctantly, he got up, and Jungkook left, feeling that he had accomplished his mission.

He turned back and looked at her, picturing the comfortable position they were in just moments ago. It made him want to throw a tantrum like a toddler.

"Well, see you tomorrow then," Taehyung muttered reluctantly as she took her legs off the seat. He threw his head back and dropped down to sit. "The thing is," he began, returning to Daphne, "I had forgotten amidst the date and school, and look at when it decided to show up."

The girl laughed, shaking her head as she replaced the earphones in her bag. "They're your friends—"

"Yeah, but I'm the type of person who doesn't play about their rest time." He groaned harder and leaned his head on her shoulder.

All she could reply with was a titter. It was a very subtle manifestation of the circus of emotions happening in her.

Trying to look at him without moving too abruptly, she caressed his cheek, while his hand slipped from her knee to her inner thigh.

"As soon as Jimin opens his front door, I'll dive into the first soft surface around me and sleep," he said, leaning closer until his face was hidden in the crook of her neck, drugging his senses with her scent.

The rhythm of his breathing and the proximity made her insides heat, and she retreated, laughing at the tickling feeling. "Come on, they'll get off soon."

Finally, he agreed and held the seat before him to get up, moving like an old and rusty man. "Yeah, you're right."

The season caused the view out the evening to be darker, and because of the fun games of light, from inside the bus, outside was pitch black.

"See you tomorrow then," he said, head against the pole.

Daphne smiled, bringing a leg against her chest. "Me likey."

He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his life, and maybe she truly was. "Me likey you," he let his heart speak in his spite and didn't regret it.

Unconsciously, Daphne brought the other leg against her chest, trying to hide her pink cheeks behind her knees. Her insides felt fuzzy, and her body was overheating.

She didn't utter another word, and he took it as his cue to lean in and, guiding her by her chin, leave a delicate kiss on her lips.

"Y'know what? I'll text you later. Maybe even FaceTime you. You never know. Be ready." She softly laughed and promised to keep herself ready.

With the loud calls of his friends, he scurried away just in time.

Her smile didn't fade, and this time, she didn't shy back from moving closer to the glass and finally seeing what was outside. He too didn't hold back from turning around to wave at her.

She waved back and laughed when Jungkook threw his head back and groaned, pulling Taehyung away like an owner dragging their stubborn dog home.

Later on, he'd regret this because he'd try to escape their teasing, but Jimin and Jungkook would pull back in by his legs, leaving him trying to use his hands as an anchor and save himself.

—Now playing: idfc by blackbear✫

Hadn't it been for the joy and the lack of communication between her and the blonde-headed girl in the front, as the bus took off, and Daphne's attention returned inside the vehicle, her eyes would've met Adrielle's and probably seen the hatred behind them, the dark feelings veiled under the disguise her blue irises naturally gave her.

But again, the two girls weren't that close. With Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook momentarily out of the way, the next people up were her close friends, Avyanna and then Adrielle.

Hadn't it been for this, Daphne would've seen beyond the angelic appearance of the girl, especially on Saturday, as they rode the bus to the school gymnasium.

—Now playing: 505 by Arctic Monkeys ✫

Remember when they talked about players during their date? Guess who the number one player of all time is?

Jeon Jungkook.

Saturday was his day, and he'd behave according to the common meaning of a player, a basketball player.

"So, I don't believe in defeat or jinxing. We'll win on Saturday and, after our victory, Jimin will gladly offer his restaurant for celebrations." The three boys were gathered in Jimin's bedroom. Taehyung was sprawled prone on the bed, the blonde-haired boy lay his head on the latter's back, while Jungkook was shirtless in the desk chair.

"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. What are you saying?" Jimin raised his hand to stop him. "The whole basketball team at my restaurant?"

"Including Nathan and some old friends— No Willow this time." Taehyung frowned, turning his head on the pillow to face the talker.

"What do you mean by 'No Willow this time'? Has Willow been around?" Jimin was thankful his position prevented him from seeing Taehyung's face. Jungkook wasn't as lucky.

"You've invited her here before?" Taehyung continued, hating how silent the room had become. Feeling his blood boil in his veins, he pushed himself off the bed and sat up. Jimin didn't mention any complaints and sat up with him. His mouth still wouldn't utter a word.

"You've invited her here before," Taehyung concluded, reading it on Jungkook's face and in his silence.

He looked at him like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and just like a child would, he tried to excuse himself. "It was only, I swear, only once, at the Halloween party. The one Nathan's friend hosted—"

"This 'Nathan's friend' knows Willow—" Taehyung cocked his brow.

"Nathan does—" Jungkook quickly replied, pursing his lips.

"Don't twist this shit. I bet you or Avyanna invited her. Why the fuck would you do that after what she's done?"

Jungkook's eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It's not like she killed someone. She just left you—"

"Jungkook, what the fuck? Why you sounding like that? You know what really went down. You know how she is." Jimin tried intervening.

"Apparently, I don't. I simply invited a friend I have not heard from in a long time. My bad, I wanted to socialise."

"Oh, so if you didn't 'socialise' with her, you'll drop dead on the floor, right? Oh, my God. What would Jungkook do without Willow?" Taehyung mockingly chanted.

"Gosh, remember that before being your girlfriend, she was our best friend. We've known her for ages—"

"It's exactly why the break up hurt harder, dumbass. Gosh, I thought you were intellectually challenged only in school. Didn't know it was extended even to your daily life." Jimin rebutted, facepalming and dropping onto the bed in surrender.

Jungkook refused to see sense in their argument, shaking his head and scoffing in disbelief. "I didn't invite her for you—"

"No shit Sherlock. For your good, you obviously didn't, but, maybe—just maybe—it might sound absurd, but since I am also your friend and she hurt me, maybe—just maybe..." Taehyung trailed off, his tone sarcastic but serious nonetheless.

"Y'all, let's put an end to this fight. This sleepover's goal is to plan Saturday's afters. Can we not—"

"I'm shocked we're even arguing on something like this." Taehyung continued, getting off the bed. He was blinded by disappointment. "I thought it was obvious." He froze in his step and turned around.

"How would you feel if we invited one of your many casual hook-ups just because I vibed with them?" He was hurt; he couldn't deny or hide it, so his tone easily turned mocking, rich with sarcasm and irony.

Jungkook held his head, elbow on his knee, as he tried blocking his friend's words out of his head. "Tae, you know it's not the same thing," he sighed.

"How is it not? No, tell me. How is not, Kook?" Jungkook sighed again, leaving his question without an answer. Jimin was still sitting on the bed, eyes bouncing between his friends whenever they spoke. His silence didn't mean he'd remain a bystander. He just needed the right moment to butt in. He wanted his contribution to send the drills in their heads spinning, have them stop and think.

"You better stop playing games and never let the thought of inviting her cross your mind, especially now." Jungkook didn't utter a word, raising his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry, bro." He apologised. "I didn't know she'd hurt you that much." Taehyung didn't reply, narrowing his eyes at him. He really didn't want to believe his ears.

"Bro, they've dated for more than two years. Obviously, breaking up over something like that was meaningless. It would hurt anyone. It basically means the relationship was never truly strong." Jungkook nodded as he listened to Jimin.

"Regardless, you'll be doing us both a favour by not inviting her—"

"Why this Willow hate all of a sudden?" Taehyung snapped his head towards him and, again, his hands were up in surrender. "Obviously, you have a very plausible excuse." Jungkook felt small under the burning glare of his friend's eyes.

Taehyung ignored his words and proceeded out of the room, leaving his friends. Wasn't it obvious why anyone would want to avoid meeting their exes, especially within the same year they broke up?

"Why do you dislike Willow?" Jungkook continued, referring his question to Jimin now that they were alone. He'd managed to make his friends develop trust issues towards their own ears.

"I never truly liked her. She always seemed fake." Jimin explained. The tone of his voice showed he believed it was a popular opinion. "I'm not the only one who doesn't like her. Elle doesn't as well—"

"Well, that's because she always had a thing for Tae."

Jimin scoffed. "Why do you say that?"

"Bro, it's obvious as fuck. Watch her hate Daphne now. You'll remember me. Besides, Daphne will be integrated into this group. We all like her, so why not? Listen to me, just sit back and watch."

Jimin waved his hands dismissively. "You can't tell me shit about that. You can't see how fake Willow is, but you can tell Adrielle has a crush on Tae. Adrielle? I've got to be honest with you: hadn't it been for us, I don't know how easily it would be for her to make friends, let alone date someone."

"Min?" Jungkook called warningly, "Having a crush on someone and actually dating are two completely different things—"

"Yeah, whatever you say." Jimin clicked his tongue multiple times, unconvinced. "It's straight up impossible. Not even Avyanna has a crush on you, and y'all have hooked up multiple times. Trust me, you're misreading Elle."

Jungkook wouldn't change his mind, shaking his head and firm in his beliefs. "Just sit and watch."

"Shut up and go apologise to Tae." Jungkook hummed, bouncing off the chair to leave the room and look for his hurt friend.

—Now playing: 505 by Arctic Monkeys ✫

Despite how it began, the sleepover ended well. They made peace, and the thought of how quickly Willow dismissed their former relationship faded away.

When he laid eyes on Daphne the following morning, he realised he'd never let anyone make him walk down the lane of the past. He had to focus on the present, on her.

"Saturday, after the match, we'll have dinner at Jimin's restaurant with the whole basketball team." He told her moments before the first recess in school.

They followed their routine of leaving class just moments before the bell with the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom. This allowed them to have their food served right when the bell rang, and, while other students ran down the stairs to the bar, they peacefully returned upstairs to their usual hangout spot.

Taehyung leaned against the windowsill with his snack in one hand while the other circled Daphne's waist as she rested her back against his chest.

"Nice!" She pushed her head back to look at him without turning around. He smiled and pecked her cheek. "Cleo's invited as well?" She asked before taking a bite from her sandwich.

"Obviously. Jungkook's in the team, and he's obsessed with her despite how hard he tries to deny it."

He was right. There was no way Jungkook would organise a celebration, and the thought of inviting Cleo wouldn't surface in his mind.

How else would the girl be torn between Nick and him if he had never done something to her?

He was the player of all time for a reason at the end of the day. And she was his favourite game.

It bothered her like nothing else ever did because she knew it, but awareness wasn't strong enough to spur her to act against it. Instead, it left her looking at the world around her with envy. She was envious of the peace.

Her biggest source of envy—although innocent—was Daphne's new relationship. Cleo looked at the couple and hated how much she was missing out on. What was Jungkook doing?

Saturday afternoon, Daphne waved at her parents as she left the house. Halfway out, Cleo caught up to her, and they walked together to the bus stop.

Because of how cold the temperatures were, it felt like the bus came late. Regardless, all the discomfort and slight discontent faded away as the warm environment in the vehicle eased the passengers' nerves.

Unlike on their way to school, Adrielle and Taehyung were at the back of the bus. Taehyung was in his usual seat, while Adrielle sat on his left, leaving Daphne's self-assigned spot by the window empty for her to occupy. Cleo didn't hesitate to take a seat next to the blonde girl.

Knowing what boiled in the girl's mind, the curly-headed girl's choice of sitting next to her was beyond nice. It was a lifesaver.

But Adrielle had the skills to be physically present while completely mentally absent, despite interacting with Cleo. Her ears couldn't help but try to catch details about what went on beside her.

She could hear Daphne's voice. The girl greeted him, voice tiny as she said, "Hey, Tae." He didn't hesitate and leaned closer, supposedly for a kiss, but seeing his back retreating was enough for Adrielle.

She heard his voice but couldn't decipher what he said, since he refused to back away from Daphne, preferring to drown in her touch.

The words to describe the intensity of Adrielle's discomfort had not been created yet. She constantly felt in dire need of fresh air. She wanted to scream at someone to open a window, not because she felt too hot, despite being close to the bus engine.

"Wanna play Brawl Stars?" Cleo asked.

—Now playing: Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens ✫

Daphne had no reason to visit her school at weekends, so she had nothing to compare it to when seeing the number of students boarding the bus. She could only tell that not every single teenager at her school decided to watch the basketball match.

The bus stopped at the terminal and slightly jiggled as its engine was turned off. Gradually, every passenger, including them, got off. All of them were students.

Chit-chat, laughter, and giggles quickly filled the air, an obvious giveaway of the young components of the gathering heading to the school gymnasium.

"Is Anna already here?" Adrielle's question was objectively innocent. What ill intent could it hide?

Here's the breakdown.

After getting off the bus, because of their position when they were on board, Cleo and Adrielle led the way, leaving Daphne and Taehyung trailing behind.

She hated that. She hated giving them the chance to be alone. She hated that, despite the chaos outside, she could hear them behind her, laughing and giggling with each other. And, as she turned around to look at Taehyung for an answer, she hated seeing their arms hooked. Daphne fully leaned into his touch, holding his arm like it was dear to her life.

"Kook, said he'd be driving her and their siblings here, so I believe so. There's no way he isn't here yet." Adrielle nodded, satisfied with the interruption. She already knew the answer to her question because she recognised Jungkook's car in the parking lot.

The gates to the school were wide open, and the pathway leading to the wide double doors was littered with bystanders. Some were parents, others were students or friends.

The gymnasium had a different appearance that day. It was full, noisy, and drowned in the echoing yells of the growing audience. The basketball players were nowhere to be found, most likely in the changing rooms. The only presence referring to them was their coach and that of the opposing team, belonging to a school from a neighbouring town.

The group of four walked up to the doors and entered the building, feeling the cold temperatures from the outside merge in an odd dance with the heat inside. By the time they made it to the bleachers, the chill was left way behind.

"Oh, here they are finally. Tae, Elle!" A tiny voice called for them from the top rows. Daphne searched and found the caller when Taehyung waved back.

It belonged to a girl. She looked like a middle-schooler or a 9th-grader. Her hair was short, full, and cut into tousled layers. She did very little to style them, using a few pins to keep stubborn strands out of her face. Small golden hoops dangled from her ears. They matched the small necklace peeking out of her bright sweater.

As they approached her, Daphne realised she had company. A boy around her age sat next to her. He wore grey jeans, which were slightly oversized and ripped at the knees. He wore a matching sweater with graphic drawings on it. His hairstyle was similar to Jimin's, but he wasn't blonde, preferring to maintain his hair black.

They both played video games on their phones—Brawl Stars, to be exact.

"Hey, guys!" Had anyone known the hard feelings she caged within herself, Adrielle's softness in her voice was scary. The young girl from before briefly moved her gaze up to greet her before returning to her phone.

"She's Avyanna's little sister, Diana, and he's Jungkook's little brother, Jaeun." It almost surprised Daphne. All of a sudden, out of the blue, Adrielle spoke to her. She initiated the conversation by introducing the young ones to her. She couldn't say it was odd, instead, she was glad the girl finally talked to her.

"Oh, thank you," she replied, smiling back. Adrielle's cheeks briefly swelled before she scooted away, sitting next to Jaeun. Cleo sat down next to Diana, and beside her were Daphne and Taehyung.

"Oh, my God. You really do charm people. I'm surprised she freely talked to you right now. She seemed pretty distant on the bus." Cleo leaned over to whisper.

Daphne couldn't say anything about it. She barely knew the girl and couldn't simply judge her by her looks. She was a bibliophile. She knew books went way beyond what their covers conveyed. So she shrugged. "I don't know. She seems a bit reserved, and you being a very talkative person might have made her feel a bit..."

Cleo scrunched her brows, pursing her lips in thought. "Hmm, maybe you're right. Sometimes I forget that I can get very overwhelming. Ooh, you're slowly showing me your charms." She chirped, gaining an eye roll from her friend.

"What charms are you even talking about?" Daphne jolted on the spot at the loud sound of the gym doors slamming close. Within moments, the loud chaos drowned out with the dimming lights, and, unconsciously, she reached for Taehyung's hand.

Anticipation settled within her, but Jimin's entrance slightly distracted her. "Sorry, I'm late." The boy whispered his greeting as he bent over before sitting down.

"I heard the doors closing and started getting worried."

Taehyung's reply faded in the background when a drum started playing and a spotlight located a trio of cheerleaders starting their little routine. They wore green skirts with a singular white strip at the bottom. Their tops were just as green and glittered under the bright light. Hair styled in ponytails and buns, they rhythmically shook their pom poms with the beat.

The drummer slowed down, and a second spotlight appeared, showing another trio of cheerleaders. This time, they wore a different uniform composed of blue and red. Their routine began, and the beat sped up.

Leaning over to her right, Daphne whispered in Taehyung's ears, asking which trio belonged to which school. The first one was from the neighbouring town. The blue and red uniforms were theirs.

The two spotlights disappeared and, in an instant, the lights returned, showing even more cheerleaders. Band music started playing, and the crowd cheered. The two schools merged into one to create a big routine. The centre of the neighbouring town's team was a red-haired girl. She was slightly petite but very elastic, an acrobat even. The centre of their own team was Avyanna.

She was easy to spot. Her black hair flowed in the air, matching her movements and spinning with her during the cartwheels and all the acrobatic exercises Daphne could only admire from afar. She wore a bright smile throughout the whole routine.

When it came to an end, the two schools separated, going into their preferred poses. Avyanna was held up from the leg by some guys in the cheerleading team. Her arms were spread out, and her other leg was bent upwards. The audience cheered again, and clapping filled the air.

"Wow, I didn't know she'd successfully built the cheerleading team. That was quick because they're so coordinated." The loud noise around them forced Daphne to turn up the volume and yell in order to be heard, despite Taehyung being right next to her.

He leaned closer, voice still loud nonetheless. "This team is the same as last year. By becoming the captain, she controls the routines. She did a great job because they truly are coordinated this year."

Their conversation quickly came to an end when the band started playing again. The drums rolled, and the trumpets followed a suspenseful flow until finally the basketball players ran out of the changing rooms.

Matching her friends, and honestly, every student of the school, Daphne got up to clap and cheer. Taehyung, beside her, threw his fist in the air, loudly exclaiming, but certainly not louder than the young ones beside Cleo. Diana and Jaeun seemed to be in a screaming competition against everybody. And truly, it was the reason why Jungkook could easily spot his friends.

But, unlike the previous years, Cleo wasn't sitting in the front rows anymore. She was always the first person he noticed, the only one he'd lock eyes with. Regardless, when he found his friend, like a magnetic pull, his eyes immediately located her before he could even start thinking about her whereabouts.

Try guessing why Jungkook doesn't believe in defeat and jinxing. Well, the brief eye contact he'd have with Cleo felt like a wish of good luck to him, his lucky charm.

And oddly so, he never lost these types of matches.

—Now playing: Jealous by Labirith ✫

Glee was etched on every spot of his face as he slung his arm around Cleo's shoulders, guiding her, the team, and his friends out of the gymnasium to El Grillo's Cuisine for dinner and celebrations.

The pack of teenagers was diverse. In height, weight, looks, personalities, fashion choices, and feelings. Some were ecstatic, others' joy was more tamed, while others let darker emotions obscure the bright ones.

Nick was the first, unable to tear his eyes off Jungkook and Cleo. Right back at him was James, who struggled to appear unbothered, and lastly, there was Adrielle, and it's obvious she wasn't jealous of the basketball player friend and the volleyball player holding onto his waist.

She focused on the scene before her. The long, large, and inconsistent line of teenagers was led by Jungkook and Cleo. Behind them was the team, Taehyung and Daphne, Adrielle walking alongside Jimin, Avyanna and Nathan, and, lastly, closing the line were Nathan's friends.

As previously mentioned, Adrielle was very good at dozing off, seeming present but mentally in the clouds. But this wasn't because she had problems maintaining her attention for too long. Absolutely.

Before her, Daphne and Taehyung shared a cigarette. Their arms weren't linked as usual, but whenever they were free, their hands would look for each other, and their fingers would intertwine.

Adrielle's progressively sick mind believed Taehyung had been smoking too much ever since he met Daphne. She wanted to find some concrete reasons why the girl could be a problem for him.

Didn't she know that behind the thrill of smoking the same cigarette, she was harming him? Didn't she know it was dangerous? Didn't Daphne know this, or was she plainly focused on the romantic aspect of it, if there was any?

All these questions replayed in Adrielle's mind like a broken record in a progressively distorted sound. Had she been a robot, all this overthinking would have caused a short circuit.

—Now playing: Highway to Hell by AC/DC ✫

For a difference, that evening the adult relative they met wasn't Jimin's mom but his dad, Junseok. The man was a walking contradiction; he looked strict, but his facial features were soft and kind. His voice was raspy, but it had a friendly tone to it. His attire was formal, but his words and attitude were likeable.

Being it Saturday, naturally, the restaurant was busy and very close to being packed. Thanks to their connection to the owner's son, the teenagers were led to a deep corner of the building, wide enough to contain them and hidden enough to keep their noise away from the other customers.

It made Daphne realise this most likely wasn't the first time they'd all collectively come here. After the dinner, she'd completely understand why such a step was necessary.

Jungkook, Nick, and James in the same room could produce so much noise that its effect could be comparable to that of the potential Third World War.

They made the jokes and they laughed at them, leaving Daphne torn between laughing because of their words or their peculiar ways of laughing.

Finished with their food, they gathered the plates into a pile and the silverware on a wide napkin to help the cleaners. Then, following Jimin's steps, they went upstairs where there was a small private hall they could stay in for the evening.

The isolation served their advantage because the adults were far away, busy handling greater business and leaving the teenagers alone. It took Jungkook only a few seconds before he spun on his heels and offered to make cocktails for everyone. Jimin didn't object, not even the slightest, and joined to help his friend.

Again, encapsulating so many teenagers, the room welcomed a very wide variety of people—and emotions.

Daphne and Taehyung were unsure of what drink to take, so they'd grab a handful and taste each other's, making the exploration process easier for both.

Best believe a pair of blue orbs was searing whole in their bodies from afar. At the end of the day, they were the couple's biggest fans.

Even moments later, when the chaos had shut down a bit, they spotted Daphne sitting on Taehyung's lap and next to Jaeun and Diana.

"Wow, Tae, you have a girlfriend." Diana chirped, looking at them. All Daphne could do was smile.

"Sorry, what's your name?" Jaeun turned his phone off to engage in the conversation.

"Daphne."

He nodded, turned to look at Diana, and she nodded as well. They both pursed their lips.

"Nice name.""Nice hair.""You're very pretty.""Really pretty.""How old are you?"

Not even her deep self-care routine was this detailed. They showered her with questions and compliments, and she tried her best to keep up.

For a split second, Daphne saw her friendship with Cleo in their interactions. Jaeun resembled her, while Diana was identical to Cleo's personality-wise.

Jaeun seemed more silent and very poised next to the ecstatic girl beside him. Her eyes seemed to glow, shimmering to reflect the brightness of her personality. Her voice was just as gleeful, and her tone was light.

She'd discarded the bright sweater from before and remained in a simple T-shirt, while Jaeun didn't remove anything. For once, they weren't on their phones playing.

"You're prettier than Willow." He let escape, flinching when Diana slapped his thigh and reprimanded him. "What?"

"You don't talk about the exes in front of the current partner. Where do you come from?" she yelled in whispering tones. Jaeun's face was louder than any apology. He looked at Daphne with pleading eyes, and the girl couldn't help but laugh. Taehyung, as well.

"Oh, don't worry. And thank you for the compliment." Diana's bright smile returned, and Jaeun was back to normal. "How old are you?"

"We're both fourteen years old." The girl was their spokesperson. "Do you know Avyanna and Jungkook?"

Daphne nodded. Thanks to Adrielle, she could already predict what the young one wanted to say. "I'm Avyanna's little sister, and he's Jungkook's little brother."

"Oh, that's how you know Taehyung." They both nodded, and Jaeun even specified that he was like a brother to them. Daphne didn't know this friend group was this wide.

"Do you play Brawl Stars?" Diana changed the topic.

Daphne silently chuckled. It amused her how recurring this name was. It was the game Taehyung introduced to her to distract her from school a bit. It's the same Avyanna and Jungkook constantly played, and now that she thought about it, it wasn't surprising their siblings also knew about it.

What really made her curious was how she'd never met them until that day.

"Yeah, she does. I taught her." Taehyung answered for her. As if to magnify his presence, he slid his hand up and down her waist, appearing innocent to the young ones' eyes; the only hand they could see simply rested on her knee. They didn't know she was boiling inside.

Diana high-fived him, complimenting him for spreading the 'good news'. "Daphie, let's play." The girl blinked, cheeks swelling in a soft smile at the new nickname. She didn't utter a word, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her phone. Taehyung did the same, already predicting Diana's next words.

Within seconds, they all had the devices in their hands, waiting for the game to fully open.

"Oh, my God. I didn't know you played Brawl Stars." Jungkook's voice resounded from behind the couple. Thankfully, they hadn't started the match yet, so Diana was free to get up and rush over to the boy for a hug.

"Hey, Koo. Daphie plays Brawl Stars too. Would you want to play with us? We can play in the 5v5 mode."

Every time she heard the nickname, Daphne would have to fight against the urge to scrunch her nose at the cuteness.

Jungkook took note of it as well, softly chuckling when he heard the new name. He didn't verbally agree, preferring to simply slip his phone from his jeans pocket.

Diana got up from her seat, eagerly gesturing for Jungkook to sit. He obliged, sitting perfectly for her to sit in his lap. Jaeun automatically dropped his legs on his free one. Silently, they colonised him, and he didn't complain.

Daphne was caught off-guard for a split second, but soon realised the two had grown up under the leadership of Taehyung and his friends. They were the little siblings of all.

Adrielle included. Yet as she watched them, she felt like a protective mother, scared of exposing her kids to dangerous strangers.

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