#taehyung one shots

[yootaesowlwrites]

Until You’re Shaking - Kim Taehyung

W/C: 2.7K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.

Prompts: “I never knew you were such a dirty girl / boy.” + “I swear to the goddesses i won’t stop until you’re shaking.”

Warnings: Smut, explicit language, somnophilia (consensual), touching while reader is asleep, light nipple touching, clit stimulation, clit sucking, oral (female receiving), light hair pulling, fingering, cum tasting(?), multiple orgasms, nicknames, unprotected sex(reader’s on the pill), slight overstimulation, aftercare.

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

Taehyung lets out a groan as he slowly woke up and stretches slowly, the room was dark from the curtains being drawn, but he could see light coming from it and knew it must have been morning, he turns onto his back and picks up his phone to check the time, quickly seeing it was almost afternoon.

“It’s worth it,” He mutters as he puts his phone back down and turns onto his side to look at you, you had somehow ended up sleeping on your back and the covers had shifted down just below your chest. He lets his eyes roam over your face, taking in how peaceful you look while you were asleep before his eyes slowly begin ascending towards your chest, watching as it slowly rose before falling, he reaches over and presses the back of his fingers against your jaw and slowly glides his hand lower, over your neck and collarbone before moving along your chest and over your breast, he turns his hand over and runs the pad of his fingers over the spot where he knew your nipples were.

He knew your body like he knew the back of his hand by now, he had it memorised by now, and every time he sees you in front of him naked, he falls in love with you all over again and falls even deeper into you when he finds more parts of your body he can kiss and caress. His finger circles around the bud, watching and feeling as it hardens and stands through the shirt, his shirt that you had worn to bed the night before, he takes in a deep breath as he feels something stirring inside him.

“You have just no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters. He could see your breathing was slowly deepening the longer he circled his thumb over your nipple. “You, alone, watching you, thinking of you, turns me on too much and all I want to do is make you feel good,” Your body was slowly reacting to what his finger was doing. “You’re always so beautiful and hot…” His hand slowly travels down, moving underneath the covers before cupping your mound and pushing his fingers against your clit. “Sometimes I wonder how I can hold myself back from devouring you with kisses,” He gently presses his finger against your clit before slowly rubbing it.

He could feel blood rushing towards his cock as it hardens, your chest was rising and falling faster as your breathing became heavier, he adds a finger and gently massages the nub, your hips gently jerk at the feeling and a soft moan soon falls from your lips, your head moves against the pillow as your body was responding to him.

“Let me taste,” He mutters and pulls his fingers away, he moves underneath the covers, carefully pushing your legs apart and settling between them, one hand grips your thigh as he lifts your leg over his shoulder. “Fuck, I can smell you already,” His nose presses against your panties before he licks a stripe along your panties. “Hmm, so good already,” He uses his fingers from his other hand to spread your folds, pushing your panties against your clit before pressing his tongue against your clit.

“Taehyung!” You gasp as you wake up. You lift the covers and find him between your legs, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark with lust. “Fuck,” His tongue swirls over your clit through the fabric again, and you could feel your insides tightening as a slow orgasm was building. His hand grasps your thigh tighter, his fingers digging into the flesh. “I never knew you were such a dirty boy,” You reach down with one hand and grip onto his hair, the covers dropping as you do. You gasp as you feel his lips wrapping around your clit through your panties, and he gently sucks on the nub. “Oh, oh, fu-fuck, Tae…” Your lids flutter as you feel tingles going up your spine. You could feel your panties becoming wetting from not just your juices but his saliva also. “Tae… Oh, my… T-Tae,” His hand caressed your thigh as he held onto it, keeping you from pulling away, not that you were going to.

You could feel his nose brushing against your inner thigh as he turned his head to try and get a better angle of your clit, and fuck, just feeling his hot breath against your skin, especially there, was making your mind spin. You gently tug at his hair and your hips lift slightly, needing more of the feeling he was giving you.

“Mo-more,” You mumble. Your skin felt on fire, and you were starting to sweat from how hot the room was and how it was becoming between your legs. “I need more,” You feel his mouth disappear from your clit and moments later you feel his tongue gliding along your folds before stopping once he reached the crease of your inner thighs.

“I swear to the goddesses, I won’t stop until you’re shaking,” He mutters as he pushes your panties aside. His hot breath hitting your clit causes your back to arch for a few seconds, his nose brushes against your mound before you felt his lips wrap around your clit.

“OH!” You loudly moan, your eyes shut at the sensation that goes through you like lightning. “Oh, my fucking…” You could feel the tip of his tongue pressing against your clit as he sucks on it. “Gosh, Tae-Taehyung…” Your thighs push against the side of his head, and you feel his hand on your thigh sliding higher to grip the crease of your hip. “O-oh,” You feel his fingers slipping against your entrance and press against it, a faint squelch sound reaches your ears. “Oh, fuck,” You were certain it wouldn’t take long for him to uphold his promise about having you shake with pleasure. “Fuck,” His fingers massage against your entrance, threatening to slip in every few times as he pressed down.

“Hmm, hmm,” He hums against your clit, your eyes roll to the back of your head before your lids fall shut in pleasure. The vibrations from the humming were reaching deep inside you and causing the tension to build more and more, and you swear it was close to snapping. “Hmm,” Your toes curl, and you bend one leg to press your heel into his shoulder.

“Tae…” You gasp out. Your upper body turns sideways as you felt your high getting closer and closer. “Oh… my…” His fingers slowly push into you, stretching your walls and stimulating them. “Fucking… Tae,” You probably sounded so desperate for him, but you didn’t care. His fingers curl inside you, and you feel how close they were to pressing into your sweet spot. “Fu- fuck,” You could see specs of dust floating behind your lids, your mind was overflowing with pleasure. His fingers turn inside you and your back arches as your upper body falls flat against the mattress. “TAE!”

“Hmm-mmh,” He hums once more. You almost sit upright at the pleasure that shoots up your spine, his fingers were brushing against your sweet spot, and you could feel your high approaching quickly.

“Oh, my, oh, my…” You chant out. The specs of dust behind your lids quickly turning into stars, and you could feel your entire body starting to tense up. “Oh, fuck… oh, go—OH!” Your head presses hard into the pillow as a sudden bolt of pleasure spreads through you, your mind slips into the clouds as it feels like your body had started to float. “OH, OH, FUCK, TAEHYUNG!” His fingers massage your walls as you release around them, while he continues to suck your clit, easing you through your high. “FUCKING GOSH!” Your other hand reaches up to grip onto the pillows to try and ground yourself. You feel the covers being pushed off your lower half and a sudden rush of cold air blows against your hot sweaty skin. “Fuck, Tae, Tae, Tae,” Your grip on his hair loosens, and you bring your hand to your own hair. “Shit…”

You slowly come down from your high, your breathing was hard, and you could feel your muscles feeling like jelly as they buzzed from the orgasm you had, you knew it wasn’t over, and he would try for another round until you were literally shaking for him. You slowly open your eyes as you felt his lips peppering soft kisses on the crease of your hip, his hand that had gripped onto you now rested only rips after he had ripped the covers off. His eyes were still dark with lust, and his hair was even messier than before.

“How are you feeling?” He mumbles. “And good morning,” You lick your lips, almost wanting to laugh. “How did you sleep?” His fingers were gently tracing over your skin, your walls pulsed, and you quickly felt his other fingers were still inside you and that your leg had been lifted off from him and was layer on the bed now.

“What a good morning,” You breathe out. “I slept okay, I had a dream when I was waking up…” He hums, and you could see a smirk starting to pull at his lips. “But when I woke up, it wasn’t a dream, it was much better than the dream… and it felt good, it felt really good…” He nods and kisses his way towards your belly button before lifting his head once he couldn’t touch your skin anymore and hovers over you.

“It felt good?” He mutters. His hand on your ribs move to press into the mattress to keep himself just above you. “It felt good hearing you moan my name in pleasure,” He dips his head lower. “But you’re not shaking yet, are you?”

“I’m close…” You whisper, staring into his eyes. Your legs twitch as you feel his fingers wiggle inside you, just that slight movement had caused your insides to start tightening again. His face was inches from yours, and you could practically smell yourself on his lips.

“I want to be inside you when you shake,” He whispers before pushing his lips against yours, your eyes shut as you could taste yourself on his lips and reach up to run your fingers through the back of his hair before tangling your fingers in them. His palm presses against your clit, and you feel his fingers begin to move inside you again.

“Hmm,” You moan into his mouth. You lift your leg and wrap it around his waist, pressing your heel into his lower back. “Hmm,” His fingers slip deeper into you and your back arches as you feel them reach your sweet spot. “OHH!” He breaks the kiss just as you let out a loud moan, your walls pulse, and it felt like your clit had gained a heartbeat as he rubbed his palm against the nub. “Tae… Tae…”

“It feels like you’re shaking beneath me already,” He says. His lips press against your jaw, and he kisses down, pausing at your neck to leave several kisses behind on it. “Are you going to be my good girl?” His tone was low, and it was right beside your ear, a shiver runs through you at the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your ear.

“Taaaeeeeee,” You whine. Your high was building faster than your first one, your muscles felt shaky already. “Fucking shit,” You turn your head to the side, giving more space and access to your neck, your other hand wraps underneath his arm, and you place your hand flat against his back before sliding your hand up and grabbing onto the back of his shoulder. “Oh… Ohhh, hmm uhh,” Your toes curl, and you feel your hips lift off the bed, his palm presses harder against your clit as his fingers massage your sweet spot. “FUCKING GO- TAE!” Before you could prepare yourself, your high crashes into you and you come undone.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” He mutters as he leaves another kiss behind on your neck. “Make a big mess for me,” It felt like your entire body was shaking uncontrollably beneath him, and he could feel it, he absolutely loved having you shake from pleasure. “Give me a few seconds,” You let out a whine as you feel him pull his fingers from you, your hands tighten around him when you feel him starting to pull away, only for him to pause.

“Tae, fuck, don’t pull away,” You mutter, completely lost in the pleasure you were feeling. “OH!” You didn’t even feel him push his boxers down, but you sure did feel when his cock pushed past your folds and pushed against your entrance.

“You’re so wet…” He groans before slowly pushing the tip of his cock into you. Your lips part and you take in an inaudible gasp as he slowly fills and stretches your walls. “Oh my fucking fuck,” You could hear grunts and groans from him as your walls practically swallowed him in.

“Tae, fuck, I’m…” Your words get caught off as you gasp, you could already feel another high building, and it would take long before it would crash into you. “Tae… fuck, Tae…” Your walls pulsed around him, and you hear him groan before his head moves between the crook of your neck again.

“You feel so good…” He groans into your neck. “Fuck, how am I supposed to last when you feel like this?” He slowly lifts his hips, and you feel your walls pulsing at the stimulation, your grip on his shoulder was slipping from the sweat, you could feel the shirt you wore sticking to your skin.

“TAAAEEEE,” You whine as another high crash into you, you weren’t sure how much your body could take as he was slowly rocking his hips into yours, easing you through your high while slowly building up to his own. Your mind was filled with the pleasure you were feeling, and your body felt like it hadn’t stopped floating since your second high hit. “Tae… fucking, Tae…” You manage to lift your other leg and also wrap it around his waist, making him groan as he feels the shift around his cock.

“Fuck, you, it, everything… feels so good,” He groans. Your walls felt sensitive, and you could already feel another orgasm building inside you, the heartbeat inside your clit was beating erratically, and fuck, your body felt absolutely on fire, especially the places he was touching you. “Fuck, you’re milking me…”

“F-fuck, Tae…” You gasp. You could feel his hips slowly speeding up, the stimulation to your walls was making your mind spin even more, and the stars behind your lids exploded. “TAE!” You hold onto him, it felt like everything of yours was shaking as your high was approaching with a rate of not, before you knew it, your mind fell blank from the pleasure and for a moment you thought you had blacked out.

“Fuck, fuck, you feel… fuck, taking me so good…” He grunts above you, you feel him grab onto your hand and squeeze it before feeling his hips rut into yours before stopping. “Fuck, oh, fuck yes,” You felt his muscles twitch as he pressed his stomach against yours, and his cum spills into you as he breathes heavily into your ear, your body was buzzing from the pleasure you had been put through, and it felt like you had no energy left at all. “So good, and all mine,” You feel his grip on your hand tighten before you felt his other arm slip underneath you, and pulls you on top of him as he rolls over, keeping his cock inside you. Both of you breathe hard as you take a moment to let everything sink and cool down. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm,” You hum, trying to search for some energy to properly answer him. Because you were alright more than alright. “I… hmm,” He chuckles and gently rubs his hand up and down along your back.

“Did I go overboard?” He asks. “I feel like I did since you can barely answer me,” This time it was you who chuckles, but he could hear how lazy it sounded when you did. “I should make us some tea…”

“It was good,” You whisper. “Maybe a little overboard, but it was you,” He smiles up at you and lifts his head to gently kiss your forehead, you turn your head and quickly make yourself comfortable on top of him, and with his heartbeat right in your ear, it was a perfect lullaby to lull you back to sleep.

[inthelow]

THE LIST — BTS OT7 (introduction).

Pairing: fashion girl f!reader x ot7!bts

Summary: after finding out that some girls have a list of their hookups and how they rank them on different aspects, the boys are eager to know their scores and show you how they can be better than the others.

Genre: literally porn with a plot; a lil fluff but mostly smut and crack

Note/warning: there’s a lot of sexual talk, jokes and scenes so if you don’t like it please get out bc it’s mostly that lol, the porn will start in the first chap this is the intro cuz i love to write shit and silly jokes;; also, it does have a lot of plot twist shit and some delicate themes that i’ll be warning next chapter since i love to write complex female characters so yeah, porn with a lot of plot actually.

Masterlist: introduction, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

“Can you keep scrolling?. This foreshadowing trend is getting boring.”

It was a beautiful Saturday night in Korea, the end of summer was coming and most people were taking advantage of the amazing weather to go out and spent time outside. People would believe one of the biggest bands in the whole world would be enjoying their money and going outside with friends or travelling to other places, maybe even practicing or creating new projects for their careers, Bangtan wasn’t doing any of that. The seven guys were in your apartment watching TikTok videos for the last hour. It was almost midnight and they were still in your home just wasting time.

You had invited them to have dinner with other friends to celebrate Thanksgiving in October, a weird tradition none of your friends in the country celebrate but that you had begged them to do it since it was a cultural tradition for you. Of course, it was easy to convince them with dinner, the group had stayed longer that you had planned as always.

“It’s getting late” you mumbled, stretching your arms tiredly.

“Yeah, you’re right” Jin yawned “. I’m getting hungry again, should we order something?.”

They didn’t know how to take a hint.

“Maybe you should, uhm, como se dice… Calabaza, calabaza, cada uno pa’ su casa. Don’t you think?.”

“Bitch, you’re Canadian not hispanic” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“You’re half Korean, you don’t have a hispanic bone in your body” Taehyung said.

“Read a book.”

“Thought she was American.”

“Oh my god” they were so annoying “. Can you guys go home?. The dinner finished like three hours ago.”

“Home is so far” Ho-seok shook his head “. Can I crash here today?.”

“Hell, no.”

“Mean.”

“Should we watch a movie?. This app is slowly killing my brain” Namjoon said with disapproval.

“What if you guys watch a movie in your own home?.”

“Your TV is bigger” Yoongi muttered.

“Dude, you’re a millionaire, buy a bigger one.”

“I don’t believe in bad investment.”

“I’m gonna slap you.”

“You sofa is comfortable” Jungkook talked, sleepy “. I don’t want to move.”

You sofa was a “L” kinda of furniture. Him and Jin were laying in one and Taehyung and Yoongi in the other part. Namjoon, Hobi, Jimin and you were sitting on the floor, all of you separated in different parts around the furniture, your head touching Jungkook’s knee.

You sighed annoyed before giving up, luckily you didn’t have to work tomorrow so you could stay up longer than usual. The eight of you decided to eat the leftovers of the evening and while Jin went to the kitchen to warm the food, one video caught the attention of everyone in the room. There was a guy in the TV talking how some girls had a list in their notes app about all the boys they had slept with and how they rank them on different aspects, he talked how he wanted to know his ranking and ask a friend who he usually hookup with to know his score. The story wasn’t that hard to understand since it was short and fun but what caught the attention of everyone in the room, mostly the boys, was knowing that some girls do that.

“That’s not true” Jungkook chuckled “. Who would make a list like that?.”

Everyone turned their heads to look at you. Jimin started laughing when you just kept quiet.

“Oh, my god. You have one?.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you kidding me?” the younger seemed to wake up completely, he took a seat next to you immediately “. You have a list, what’s the ranking?.”

“I won’t talk about this with you guys” you laughed at their curiosity.

“Why no?” Taehyung pouted “. I want to know too.”

“Because it’s weird.”

“Why would you have a list if you’re not going to talk about it?” Jimin insisted.

“I said I won’t talk about it with you all, I spill with my girls all the time” you smiled innocently “. Have to share the knowledge.”

“You know how fucked up this would be the other way around?” Yoongi asked.

“Men just hate seeing women in male dominated fields.”

“You’re so dumb” Jimin rolled his eyes “. Just tell me the ranking you have and why I’m the number one.”

“Oh, my god” Namjoon threw him a pillow “. Shut up.”

“Yes, thank you. Can you guys never say shit like that again?.”

“I’m curious!” Taehyung whined “. Why can’t we know?.”

“Why would you wanna know?.”

“Wouldn’t it be fair?” Jin appeared from the kitchen, a plate of food in his hand “. Wouldn’t you like to know if we had a ranking about you?.”

The guys pointed at him and his good argument. You knew he was right.

“Touché” you giggled“. Where is the food?.”

He rolled his eyes “Go grab it from the kitchen.”

Everyone stood up to do grab a plate of food from the kitchen and some Soju bottles you had in your fridge. Soon you were all sitting on the floor doing a little round while eating, you knew they weren’t going to let the subject go. You weren’t uncomfortable talking about your hookups with the boys but it was a little weird to know that you’ve had written about almost every guy in that living room in your notes app where you had ranked them and giving some opinions about how good or bad they were when you fucked them.

“So you’re going to tell us?” the younger smiled cutely, trying to convince you.

“Nope, so shut up.”

“Come on” Taehyung whined again ”. I need to know.”

“You guys don’t have bad ranking, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to know, you were good ” you tried to argue, letting it not be a big thing “. It’s just a comment on how it was, I have bad memory.”

“But it is, I need to know what you wrote about it” he argued back.

“No, you don’t.”

“What about a deal?” Jimin talked, you looked at him confused.

“No.”

“It’s not that” he smiled machiavellian “. You’ve been trying to get into that art project with Jacquemus, right?.”

“First, it’s not an art project, it’s a deal that I’m trying to do to expand my brand” you corrected him “. Second, what about it?.”

“Yeah, that, whatever” he giggled when you looked annoyed “. What if I casually introduce you to Simon and you talk about the business deal with him?.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Well, I have an event with Tiffany & Co’s next week and he casually happens to be in it” Jimin shrouded “. You can come with me as my stylist.”

Oh, he was tempting.

You had been in the fashion industry since you graduated. Getting a job in a fashion magazine where you got to know more about the business and then successfully opening your own clothing brand where you got to sponsor a lot of celebrities around the world, Bangtan being one of them, actually them being one of the first ones to support your little business when you started. Their company had been the first to contact you to use your brand when Taehyung was capture wearing some of your cute sweaters back in 2018. Of course, you were already friends before that, when you guys bonded in some event back in that year and had spent nights sleeping with each other you had become really close friends so it wasn’t a big deal for you that he wanted to take some of your clothes when he found you working one day, of course you didn’t know the big deal it would be after that. You had to thank him a lot when people reached for your brand after that. And the thing was, people didn’t know that you were actually that close, and they didn’t need to, they would say you had slept your way to the top and it wasn’t true, you had slept around before it.

“You swear?.”

“Pinky swear, baby” he showed you his finger for you to grabbed it.

“I better get the invitation tomorrow.”

“It would be the first thing you see in the morning.”

you sighed, surrendering “Just the ranking of you guys.”

“Everything we want to know” he shook his head “. I’m getting you a meeting with the owner of the company you want to buy or whatever.”

“I don’t…” he was good at annoying you “. It’s not a meeting, you’re just introducing me to him.”

“Still enough. Once I introduce you, you’re gonna get the deal. You’re a good shit-talker.”

“I hate you” he smirked “. Three questions each and we don’t talk about this ever again.”

“Our rankings, two questions each and we don’t talk about this again.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

You both intertwined fingers and everyone cheered like it was some of the biggest deals made in history. You rolled your eyes, almost comically before grabbing your phone.

“Okay, what do you guys wanna know?.”

“How many people do you have on your list?” the first one to ask was Namjoon.

“Thirty-nine.”

“Damn.”

“Shut up, if you had a list you probably would have like three thousand.”

“Not true” Yoongi defended himself “. I can count them with my fingers.”

“And you will have to multiply them by ten.”

“She’s right, you’re kinda of a whore” Taehyung nodded “. A silent whore though, I’ve barely know your hookups.”

“Anyway” the rapper changed the subject “. Is it actually a ranking of who was the best?.”

“It’s not” you denied “. I just have the names of the people I have slept with and, you know, I just ranked them for different topics and write some comments” you smiled “. It started because I wanted to sleep with all zodiac signs and then I just keep going to remember how it was.”

“That’s crazy” Jin commented “. What topics?.”

“So only four of us are on the list?” Hobi questioned.

“Five actually” you blushed for the first time in the night.

“Wait, what?” the boy frowned “. I know about Tae, Jimin, Namjoon and Jungkook.”

“Surprise” Yoongi smiled.

“God” you shook your head “. So, yeah, I mean, it happened like six months ago.”

“I mean, everyone knew it was gonna happen eventually” Namjoon nodded.

“Weird you guys never talked about it” Jimin pointed out.

“Not that weird actually, they barely talked about their hookups” Taehyung said “. But everyone knows they’re sluts.”

“Ouch?” you chuckled “. We were kinda drunk, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t answer my question” Jin took your attention.

“Why you wanna know so much?. You are not in the list” Jimin laughed.

“I want to know how bad are you guys.”

“Please, I probably have a ten out of ten score” the dancer said confidently “. Is a ten out of ten score, right?.”

“Yes and It’s not that big of a deal, to be honest” you shrugged “. It’s just how good you were, notes about what was the best and some comments.”

“Can I read it for you?” Hobi said with excitement.

“No, and you just finish your questions so shut it.”

“Okay, I wanna know my ranking and comments” Jungkook said with obviousness.

“Yeah, for everyone” Namjoon said.

“Just read it for us” Jimin nodded.

“You actually want me to read you rankings out loud?” you questioned.

“Duh.”

“Wait, why am I getting nervous?” the younger frowned “. I wasn’t bad, right?.”

“I know I wasn’t bad, we had a lot of sex, you wouldn’t have sex with the same person if-” Tae stopped himself mid sentence “- Why did you give me that look?!. Was I bad?!.”

“Oh, my god” Yoongi rolled his eyes “. Just read it.”

“As you wish.”

“Why are you scrolling that much?” Hobi sat next to you “. Wow, Taehyung you were her number twenty-four.”

“Get away” you pushed the dancer.

“I want to know too” Jin sat behind you to look at your screen “. Oh, wow.”

“Read it!.”

“Okay, okay. It’s very explicit.”

“Even better” everyone complained at Jimin’s comment.

“Is everyone sure…?”

“Yes!.”

You giggled at their impatience before looking at your phone. You couldn’t read that out loud, you fake gagged at the thought of doing it. It was easier when you were drunk and talking with your girls and not sober with seven boys trying to know who was best at fucking you.

“Shit, I can’t, it’s weird” you sighed “. By the way, I need to clarify that there is no person in the list that has a ten out of ten, there is just one guy that has nine point five out of ten and is none of you” everyone booed “. So if you feel that you’re low, believe me you’re not” Ho-seok smiled amused when you gave him your phone “. Okay, you read it.”

“Hurry up!.”

“Taehyung, eight out of ten. Big dick, he fucks really good when he’s mad and is usually very intense in the act. Comments: he’s down to try almost any weird shit, finger play goes crazy.”

Taehyung got up, smiling and bowing to the boys who pretended to throw up at the information.

“You heard it, baby girls. I’m big dick.”

“Shut up.”

“You can call me ‘big dick’ from now on, guys.”

“Let me read the parenthesis” Jin took everyones attention.

“No!, wait…”

“(He seems to always finish first and sometimes doesn’t care if you do).”

Everyone started laughing, Taehyung got all red and you hid your face with your hands, embarrassed

“That was one time because I had to catch a plane!. You told me it was okay…”

“I knew Tae wasn’t a giver” Jimin clicked his tongue “. Should give him a two out of ten.”

“By the way, everyone has a parenthesis” Jin smiled “. And it seems it’s the bad things.”

“Wow, you rated one guy two out of ten” Hobi chuckled “. It says ‘Bad eater, small dick’. Damn, you’re mean.”

“Don’t read that!” you threw him a pillow.

“I wanna know mine!” Namjoon interrupted.

“Let me go by order, Jungkook is number twenty-eight” the dancer talked, the younger look attentively “. Jungkook, seven point five out of ten.”

“Ha!” Tae laughed at him.

“Great sex, one time he made me come thrice in less than one hour, he’s really hot when goes dominant guy. Comments: his stamina is crazy, can fuck for hours, good at being submissive.”

“I want to know the parenthesis!.”

“Three times in less than an hour is crazy” Ho-seok muttered.

“Lacks self respect” Jin giggled.

“What?. What it does even mean?” Jungkook frowned.

“Uhm, you know” you cleared your throat “. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, you’re cute. Is… you know?” you went silent.

“Stop stalling” the younger was confused “. What did you mean by that?.”

“Babe, you have never say no to anything I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“And?.”

“Oh” Yoongi chuckled “, I get it.”

“What it’s wrong with that?” Jungkoon asked.

“Dude, she’s a fucking freaky” Jimin said “. There are things even Tae probably said no to.”

“That’s true” the idol nodded “. And you’re not that freaky, Kook. Lack of self respect.”

“I mean, for me is great but people might take advantage of you” you grimaced.

“Didn’t you do that?” Jimin questioned.

“And why wouldn’t I?.”

The guys laughed and Jungkook sat back thinking about the comment.

“Okay, me next!.”

“Right, you” Hobi read the list “. Number thirty-four, Jimin. Eight out of ten too.”

Knows how to move and how to get you in the mood immediately, weirdly good at quickies. Comments: loves face riding as much as me, after care it’s amazing.

“You listen to it, whores!” Jimin sang excited “. I should have the ten out of ten. What can even be the bad comment?. Too much after care?.”

“Gets to much into it, forgets to keep you in the mood.”

Everyone started to made fun of him.

“So basically, you don’t know how to entertain her. You bored her” Yoongi sighed “. Oh, you’re that bad, uh.”

“It didn’t say that!.”

“Jimin is bad at sex…”

“Shut up, six out of ten.”

“I was seven point five!.”

“Next one is Joon” Hobi read “. Number thirty-five. Oh, wow, after Jimin.”

“Why would you say that?” you shook your head.

“I’m just reading, baby” he chuckled.

Namjoon, seven point five out of ten. Knows how to talk you through it, good dick. Comments: he’s hot. (loves cowgirl but doesn’t know when to change it, got tired of it.)

“That’s it?” the leader whined “. Why that low then?.”

“I mean, it was great” you tried to not put him down “. But we had sex once, it wasn’t that mind blowing… But it was great!.”

“What she’s trying to say is that you’re mid” Jimin smiled.

“Shut up, you bored her to death.”

“My god, can we just finish this?” you complained.

“Let’s give it up for Yoongi” Taehyung clapped “. I’m going to give it a guess and said one out of ten.”

“That’s why his hookups never come back” Jimin added to the joke.

“They only fucked once and Yoongi seems lazy, has to be lower than me” Namjoon said.

“I can’t believe you put me the same score as Namjoon and you guys only fucked once” Jungkook complained.

“Believe me, it’s a good rank. It doesn’t say you’re bad” you defended.

“Yoongi is number thirty-nine” Hoseok read “. Wait, he was your last one?.”

“Damn, was he that bad you had to go celibate?” Jimin joked.

“I’ve been busy and, honestly, I’ve been fucking a lot this last couple of years” you chuckled“. And since it was mostly mid or bad sex, I wanted mind blowing sex before stopping for a while.”

“And you chose Yoongi?.”

“He just happened to be there” you shrugged.

“Ouch?.”

“So now you’re looking to settle down?” Taehyung questioned.

“I don’t know yet but I’ve sworn celibacy, I will wait until a worthy opponent comes along” the guys laughed at your dumb comment but you were serious.

“Yoongi is nine out of ten.”

“What?!.”

Yoongi chuckled, playing with the end of his shirt while the other guys were shocked. You laughed a little and Hobi decided to continue.

Knows how to make you come, he’s hella good with his fingers. Comments: tongue technology theory confirmed, squirted for the second time ever

“Wow, okay, we didn’t need to know that” Hobi made a disgusted face.

“The only bad thing it says is that you could be better in after care” Jin told him.

“Could be better in after care?” Jimin opened his mouth, offended “. That’s the only bad thing?. How- I can’t believe it.”

“You only fucked once and you put him nine out of ten?. Oh, my god, so I was that bad” Namjoon seemed like he was about to do a tantrum.

“I can’t believe it” Jungkook whispered.

“Fucking shit. Okay, and that’s all” you grabbed your phone “. Let’s not speak about this ever again.”

“But…”

“The deal.”

“Ugh” Taehyung pouted.

“Just one last thing” Jungkook grabbed your attention “. Who has the nine point five out of ten?.”

“Why is that important?.”

“I just want to know the comments” he said, he was serious.

“Antoine Lafleche” Hobi said.

“How do you…?”

“The only thing it says was ‘Wow’. Took my attention.”

“Yeah, well, he was” you smiled slightly “. Met him when I travelled to Paris for the exchange of my fashion program” you sighed “. We spend the last week of my course together, it really was ‘wow’. Sadly, we never exchanged numbers or anything.”

Jungkook nodded before standing up “well, I hated the ranking. We should head home now, it’s late.”

“You’re right” Jin stood up too “. By the way, this was really fun.”

“For you, I can’t believe I had an eight out of ten. I can’t believe Yoongi got ranked better than me!” Jimin started complaining.

“Don’t talk about it!” you whined “Shit, just get out.”

Of course you knew they would talk about it, probably even complain and argue how one was better than the other. What you didn’t except was for them to make a bet. That night you went to sleep while the guys arrived to their complex, thinking about that list after the silent road to home was almost to quiet, everyone thinking how many other girls had ranked them as low as you.

“Seven point five” Jungkook snorted when he sat on the couch “. Not even an eight.”

“I feel you.”

“Shut up, you fucked once. We did it many times and she gave me the same score as you?” the younger groaned, annoyed “. This is unbelievable.”

“I can’t believe Yoongi has a nine out of ten. One more point than me!” Jimin complained “. She was probably too drunk and thought it was good.”

“That’s an insane comment” the rapper rolled his eyes “. And not my fault you guys don’t know how to actually be good in bed.”

“Well, at least I have a big dick” Tae shrugged.

“Can you guys shut the hell up” Jin rolled his eyes “. You’re all bad in bed, we get it.”

“Please, you would get a two out of ten” Jungkook said “. When was the last time you got laid, grandpa?.”

Jimin laughed “yeah, you would probably be the lowest.”

“I don’t know, I kinda trust Jin. He seems to have game” Taehyung nodded.

“Stop being weird” Ho-seok chuckled.

“I would get that ten” Jin said with confidence “. You all had comments, I would just get that number and none of that shit reviews.”

“I can’t believe a guy name Antoine got a ‘wow’, the fuck is that supposed to mean?” the younger rolled his eyes.

“That he was that good” Jimin hummed “. I’m gonna get that ten out of ten” he mumbled “. It’s gonna be a ten out of ten and period, no more comments, just that good and speechless.”

“You already have a eight out of ten, give up” Yoongi told him with annoyance.

“So what?, you think I can’t get a better score than you?.”

“I think you just can’t get good in bed” the rapper barked.

“Stop” Namjoon rolled his eyes “. She said she’s on celibacy or whatever, she won’t sleep with you guys.”

“Wanna bet?.”

“Yah!, stop betting shit” Taehyung scolded his friends.

“I’m just saying, I want it to make it more fun” he shrugged.

Jungkook snorted and shook his head “make what more fun?.”

“I mean, I will get that ten out of ten no matter what” he talked like it wasn’t a big deal “. I just thought it would be fun if we all actually had one more chance, you know?. To see who’s actually better.”

“You’re a weird shit, you know that?” Ho-seok crossed his arms.

“And you all are still thinking about it.”

The room went silent, everyone actually thinking about the deal. But it wasn’t just a deal, after that score, the guys were a little hurt, mostly their egos, they knew they were good in bed, they had a lot of people confirming that but to know that they weren’t the best at it was a little but hurt, even more when they were now in the top of the world. They wanted to show you that they could get that perfect score, and if they had to compete with someone for that, who was best that each other?. They were the best of the best, they were going to change that ranking.

“I actually don’t care” Jin laid back on the sofa “. But I’ll get that number ten just for fun.”

“You’re on” Taehyung immediately stood up “. I know her more than you guys, I’ll get that number.”

“You know her more and you still got that eight, sit back down” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Are you really doing this?” Ho-seok shook his head.

“If you are that afraid of getting a bad number, back off” Namjoon made fun of his brother.

“Please” the dancer scoffed “. One night and I’ll get that ten, seven point five.”

“Don’t call me that!.”

“I don’t care about competing with any of you” Jungkook said “. I’ll work hard for that number, and I’ll get it.”

Yoongi snorted “I had one drunken night with her and she gave me a nine, give me ten minutes sober and I’ll get a fucking hundred.”

“Game on, baby!.”

You shouldn’t have shown them the list. Or maybe it was for the best?. Celibacy life wasn’t for you anyway.

this is me revealing as an insane ot7 😔🙏🏼

this is gonna be a flop but i was watching this guy on tiktok talking about this girl that rank him in bed a nine and how he lacked self respect and i was laughing so hard and then i was like waittt this is a good idea for a porn plot and then a bts edit appeared and i was like yea i need to write about it so here we are

this is gonna be like a lot of smut and i’m not that good at it but i wanna try it lmao so just for funzies and giggles u know

anyway next chapter soon hehe, i will also be editing and posting/editing the masterlist soon<33 just was too excited to post this

[vanillakook]

DOPAMINE (PT. 2) ꔫ - JJK

synopsis: jungkook has a question for mingyu’s sister

paring: brothersbestfriend!jk x fem!reader

info & warnings: explicit language, angst, risky rendezvous, forced proximity, tones of corruption, established crush, sexual tension and slow burn, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, dom!jk, pretty short but it’s preparing to transition into a much longer pt 3 🙈

a/n : part 2/3! comment to be added to the taglist for this series! first part here: <3

“do you think i’m stupid?”

jungkook’s irritated voice rang through you. you had officially pissed him off, and for the last time at that. annual vacations with your family to jeju were usually jungkook’s favorite. your parents owned a cozy little house by the beach that you went to a few times a year. he had the privilege of getting away from school and work for a week. just a full week of kicking back by the ocean with some beers and seeing his favorite girl in a way too revealing bikini that mingyu planed on burning when you were back at the house. even jihyo tagged along, this being her first vacation with the kim family, to which your parents were ecstatic, and oh– and he’s here. jaehyun.

jungkook knew he didn’t hate anyone... but it was all too easy for him to hate jaehyun, all because of your maniacal actions on this getaway. having jaehyun win stuffed animals for you, sharing boardwalk treats with him, and clinging by his side had been enough for poor jungkook, who really enjoyed annual vacations to jeju. things escalated from a simple boardwalk treat to rubbing sunscreen down your back, and drying you off with his towel after dunking yourself in the ocean. he was no longer enjoying his annual vacation to jeju.

the worst part about it all? it was his fault. he knew you’d never touch jaehyun, not even with a ten foot pole. yet after the moment you and jungkook shared in his car, you might as well. after he dropped you off at home something changed. jungkook was around less and when you needed a favor he was suddenly busy. it was like nothing had mattered. all of the things you had done together, the things you had said, nothing mattered anymore. he left you in the dark, and you were two strangers with a secret now, nothing more. he had to be the bigger person. if jungkook couldn’t tell you no then he would just have to start acting on it, even if it meant ignoring your existence all together.

if jungkook wasn’t going to fuck you, there was someone who wanted to. and who better than jaehyun, who’s pants form a tent when you do as much as smile at him– and who better to flaunt your power around than jungkook. which bought you here, laid out on your beach towel, sipping on your soju mixed cocktail and reading a novel when jungkook came to you with a scowl on his face and a question ready on his tongue.

“do you think i’m stupid?” he couldn’t hold himself together anymore. you were prancing around in a tight bikini and letting another man touch you. a man that wasn’t him. so he took his chance when your brother, jihyo, and jaehyun joined a volleyball game on the far side of the beach. he finally caught you after you made yourself very unattainable during this trip.

“you’re blocking the sun, too big. move.” you moved your sunglasses up on your face.

“listen, come back to the house with me. i think we should talk–”

“about? about how i was another pussy to you, is that the conversation you want to have?” now he had your attention, because talk? about what?

“get up.”

“no.” you turned a page on your book.

“y/n,” a very frustrated jungkook pinched his nose. “i said get the fuck up.”

“and i said no. the fuck do you think you are? my brother?” you spat back.

“nah, i’m worse.”

now you were being dragged by your arm down the beach, up the boardwalk, and back to the house. you stumbled up the sandy porch with your things in hand, jungkook angrily flinging your arm from his tight grip and trailing behind you. once the door was unlocked and you were being pushed inside, coming into the dimmed living area that had sun sneaking in through the curtains. “okay, i’m here. now what? and make it quick because they’re probably looking for us.”

“i let gyu know i walked you back to change.”

“to change? i– okay sure. my parents will be home soon though.”

“they’re out at dinner. so i’ll ask again, do you think i’m stupid? just picking at me, trying to piss me off.” he had you corned, taking another step back with every word that fell from his lips until your bare back hit the door. “you’re gonna get that lil boy hurt y/n. mingyu’s one thing, but me? tsk tsk.” he sucked his teeth. “he won’t walk intact around me.” his voice dropped a few octaves and you had nowhere to look but his disrespectfully, good looking face.

“who’s fault is that?” you couldn’t help the smirk that came onto you when jungkook indirectly confessed just how bothered he was. “you’re the one that’s gonna get him fucking hurt. now hyunnie has to get whacked by mingyu because you wanna ghost me.” jungkook thought it was comical. your mouth was too big for your body, constantly trying him, picking at him, and now you were folding under his strong gaze. his eyes were darker than what they usually were, holding something more intense.

“hyunnie?” he raised his eyebrows, letting out a loud cackle. jungkook actually laughed out loud. “you’re so full of shit. both of you, probably made for each other even.”

“mhm pretty much.” your eyes rolled dramatically. he was close enough to where you were able to poke at his hard chest, landing your finger four times to match the speed of your words. “such. a. fucking. hypocrite– i can’t take you! god forbid i flirt with jaehyun to pass some time. i forgot you’re the only one that can eat my pussy and dip out as if it never happened.”

he put his hands on his waist, shut his eyes, and took a deep long breath. “i never forgot about us, i didn’t want to just forget, but i had to.”

“two months! two jungkook!” you screamed, waved your fingers in front of him. “that’s how long i’ve waited for you to speak to me, touch me– fuck– something! this right here,” you gestured to the little space around you. “i’d rather have us arguing like this than nothing at all!” it was hard to mask the hurt in your voice, it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by jungkook. yet his own jealousy had been too persistent for him to calm down right now.

“and that’s how you went about it? hopping on mediocre dick to spite me?” his voice, his fucking voice. you hated how it made your bikini bottoms cling to your pussy. “have fun fucking on somebody that can’t make you cum. thought that’s what you wanted though, right baby?“

“get a fucking life, jungkook.” you couldn’t even look at the man. probably because the atmosphere was getting thicker and you could hear his voice dripping with the same condescending tone that got you into this mess.

a maniacal smirk spread across his face. he could do this all day with you, he wanted to do this all day. “jaehyun too? mhmm just gonna ruin that boy’s life. that’s cool, when im telling mingyu about his backstabbing friend i wont tell him how much of a slut his lil sis is. secrets safe with me.”

“but you’re gonna leave out how you had his slutty little sister first?” you stepped forward, closing the gap between you. the two of you couldn’t help your wandering eyes, his eyes taking in your lips and sandy skin, yours being stuck on his mosaic of tattoos and the piercing in his lip that you desperately wanted in between your teeth. it was all a matter of who was going to break first now. “going on and on about how pretty my pussy is, so wet and tight for you wasn’t it kookie?”

“mouth way too big for your body, baby.”

“what? can’t handle it? oh and you are fucking stupid by the way. and you’ll look even stupider when jaehyun is balls deep in this–”

“go upstairs.” his voice was so quiet, yet ringing in your ears like bells. his resolve was the thinnest it’s ever been when it’s come to you. “i can show you what’s stupid, come on.” he titled his head towards the stairs, starting up them while you stayed put, defying him for the last time.

“come and get me then.”

just like that, the composure, the respect, all came crashing down. without warning, jungkook tangled his fist in your hair, wrapping the strands around and around until his hand was full. his grip was rough, making sure to make a statement, not with pain, but control. “on your knees. you woke me up now baby.” before you could do you were being forced. here he had you, making you crawl for him while he pulled you along by your hair. like a fucking mutt. it was a scene so lewd and degrading to where you didn’t even think you could muster up the thought of it.

“jungkook– ouch!”

jungkook stopped your journey mid way. with a fistful of your hair still, he turned his half naked body towards you, ducking down just so the metal of his piercing was grazing your ear. “oh uh uh, where’d she go? what happened to my big, bad pretty girl? what? can’t handle it?” he cooed, spitting your words right back at you as he ignored your whining and continued to walk you up the stairs and into your bedroom. a bedroom he’d known since childhood due to how much he and mingyu terrorized you in it during family vacations. now decades later he was dragging you into the same bedroom, ready to fuck some sense into you. still on your knees, you rested yourself against your door and watched him.

“gonna ruin that cute face, but we’re gonna clean up that attitude.” adrenaline ran through you when you realized just how much bigger he was than you. his broad shoulders, veiny forearms, meaty thighs– it had just occurred to you how screwed you were. jungkook yanked down his swim shorts, damp cloth still clinging to his legs and outlining the muscle. he bit back a laugh when he heard the way you audibly gasped when his cock slapped against his stomach. he was already leaking for you, fuck he’s been leaking since your tits were ready to fall out of that excuse of a bathing suit.

“clean up my attitude?” and still your mouth was moving. “if you can–” jungkook quickly made use of your mouth, taking ahold of your locks again and sank inside of your warmth. deeper, deeper, deeper, until you became a drooling, slobbery, babbling mess who struggled to adjust to his size. he mustered up a groan when he began moving. bottoming out, dragging himself back down your warm tongue, and leaving you just to suck on his tip. he repeated the same motion which felt like a thousand times over. you breathed in sharply when bullied his cock just deep enough into your hole so that your nose tickled his pelvis. tears started to prick your eyes, your face flushed with violent heat, along with muffled cries for him to slow down. your cunt had a mind of its own, only wanting his torture to continue further.

“aht aht. pretty girls don’t talk with their mouths full.” this was who he really was, mocking and plain evil. “that’s how you listen? when you’re full of my cock huh?” no response. now you were being pulled up for air, your once comfortable and full mouth now deserted. he held his thick cock in one hand and your hair in the other. “i asked you a question doll.”

you nodded slowly through stained tears and plump, glistening lips. slow nods transitioned to quick and now he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. his snippy girl finally had no more fight left in her. “i– i listen.” you nodded frantically. “i listen when im full of you.”

“full of me? use all those nasty words you learned.”

“i listen when im full of your cock koo.”

a laugh rumbled through him, now it’s koo and kookie again when he’s making a mess out of you. “well look at that, i fucked this cute hole into obedience.” he pushed himself back down your throat with the goal of watching you slurp up his nut– until you both heard the front door creak open, followed by the familiar footstep pattern of none other than–

your brother.

your face morphed with panic, trying to push back at the same man you weren’t supposed to be giving into. jungkook wasn’t letting you off easy, you were going to finish exactly what you started. he didn’t give a fuck who came in, he wasn’t done with you. so if he had to finish you off with your brother knocking on the other side of your door so be it. “y/n! jungkook! where are you guys?!” mingyu called throughout the quiet house. your names rang from each end that he searched. “guys? you’ve been gone for like an hour!” your fear filled eyes locked with a way too calm jungkook who did nothing but move to lock your door and hit the back of your mouth with his tip again. his tatted finger went up to his lips and now you were wondering if you’d come out of this alive.

both of you.

“gyu!” jungkook called out. you could hear your brothers footsteps get closer until they stopped at your door. your heart thumped against your chest so loudly you felt like he could hear. he tried the door, jiggling the knob. “hey man calm down, i’m naked.”

“naked? in here?” mingyu said with disbelief.

“relax, y/n just let me use her bathroom. you know her room has the best shower,” he sounded completely at ease. way too at ease for someone face fucking his best friends sister. “she isn’t here, changed and went back out to the boardwalk, you probably walked past her.”

mingyu sighed. “fucking figured, all her shit is all over the living room. just dropped it and went back out?” why did the thrill of potentially being caught have you opening your mouth wider, tongue resting against the underside of his shaft while you waited for him to spill into your mouth. “we’re finishing up on the beach though now. also we’re doing snores tonight, so we might have to make a store run. she left her phone downstairs so if you see her just let her know.”

“gotcha, i’ll be– sshit–” jungkook didn’t mean for that to come out as a grunt, but he was so close and you felt so goddamn good. “i’ll be on the lookout for her.” he said just as he spilled down your throat. he kept himself so well put with mingyu on the other side, you’d think he’s snuck around like this before.

“thanks man, and hey, i’m glad you and y/n are talking again. hated this vacation at first.” you heard mingyu strut back down the stairs. you felt like you could breathe once you heard the front door slam shut. jungkook pulled your head up, his cock dropping from your mouth with a pop! he didn’t even have to tell you to swallow. it was already done, and you were already showing him that you swallowed it all like the big girl he knew you were.

“did so well for me doll, s’ pretty and all mine.” he caressed your face with gentleness after using you as if you were nothing to him. you’d never done something like this, so lewd and obscene. now you felt like an addict, aching for your next fix. jungkook’s jaw tensed as he gazed at you, a flicker of guilt breaking through his cocky exterior. “if we’re going to do this, we need some ground rules… are you sure you want this?” he said firmly, though his touch betrayed his reluctance to let you go.

“jungkook,” you sighed softly. “we’re too far gone.”

“i didn’t ask you that. i asked you if you want this.”

you stared at him, the weight of his question settling in your chest. “this is all i’ve ever wanted,” you whispered, the words barely audible but firm. jungkook’s eyes softened for a split second before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“good,” he muttered, pulling you up from your spot in the floor and into his arms. his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, firm and demanding, yet fleeting enough to leave you wanting more. when he pulled back, the cocky glint in his eyes was back in full force. “see how you just saved a man’s life? your little boyfriend gets to live.”

You rolled your eyes. “you’re insufferable, you know that?” you shot back, grabbing a nearby throw pillow and launching it at him. He dodged it effortlessly, laughing as he caught your wrist before you could grab something else.

“had you choking on this insufferable dick though,” he quipped, his hand lingering a moment too long before he finally let go. the moment he did you landed a hard punch on his chest. “now, get dressed, with actual clothes.” as much as he liked looking, you were no longer prancing around like that for as long as jaehyun was here. in fact, jungkook was declaring him banned from any family vacations from here on out.

“i hate you.” you said, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you as you followed him into your bathroom.

later on that night while the boys were helping setting up with your parents, you and jihyo stayed in the kitchen to prepare some smores. you thought you were the only one who knew about your secret rendezvous with jungkook, to which you were about to learn– was completely wrong. as you and jihyo yapped about everything under the sun you learned a lot about her that you’d prefer you didn’t know. yet she knew more about you than you did. “jihyo– okay ew. anymore talk about my brothers private parts and no one’s having smores because my throw up will be covering them.” you cringed for hopefully the last time after she thought it was hilarious to tell you how good mingyu was with his tongue.

“okay fine, you then lil gyu.” she grinned deviously, nudging your side while assembling the smores stack. “someone’s been pinning after you, how’s that going?”

“oh– me and jaehyun? that’s never gonna happen,” you let out a nervous giggle. “he’s nice and all but not my type. gyu also wouldn’t ever let me date his friends. over before it started.”

jihyo’s silence and smile only grew. “i wasn’t talking about jaehyun… in fact, i think you guys are more obvious than you realize.” you froze. before letting panic settle you remembered, it’s just jihyo. however you still looked around the perimeter of the kitchen and living room, even glancing at the sliding patio doors to make sure mingyu was far away from them.

your hands stopped their actions and you breathed in once, a heavy sigh following. “do we make it too obvious?”

“umm with that cold war that you two dragged everyone else into? hell fucking yes!” she turned to you dramatically, growing serious for a moment. “don’t worry, mingyu doesn’t have enough brain cells for it to click for him yet.”

you stared outside, taking in the sight of your parents joking around with jungkook. jaehyun and mingyu were still throwing wood into the pit, ready to chuck one at jungkook for being the one with the most muscle yet not helping. “do you think he’ll be mad at us? at him?” jihyo gave you a small pout at first, but her lips quirked into a smile. you never cared about yourself in this situation. you knew you’d always be mingyu’s sister, his full fledged family.

but would jungkook always be mingyu’s friend?

jihyo walked you over to a stool and sat you down. she took your hands in hers and gave you the best she could. “i think it’ll be… an adjustment. there’s no thought in the back of his head telling him jungkook might have feelings for you. so when he knows, yeah he might be taken aback.” in other words, mingyu was going to have yours and jungkook’s heads on a stick. she tried to sugar coat it as much as she could, but you knew her sweet words for you had a double meaning.

“feelings?” you could laugh out loud. “if you count feelings as leaving me high and dry and then randomly deciding to look at me again when you feel threatened by someone else then yeah, feelings… i guess. we’re still working out the kinks.”

now you had jihyo laughing out loud, slapping her knee even. “you two don’t even have to acknowledge each other. it’s seeping off of you. you really are lil gyu, plain ole stupid.” the two of you giggled like schoolgirls, hitting each other lightly. it felt good to have someone to speak to about this. your friends were heavy liabilities, if they knew then mingyu knew. you couldn’t even speak to your sibling, and you couldn’t even imagine his hurt when he’d find out. suddenly all the cares you never had were coming to the surface, you understand jungkook now. could you… really do this?

your thoughts were interrupted by three rowdy, hungry boys who made their way through the sliding doors and into the kitchen. in just a matter of seconds they had managed to steal half of your prepared smores stacks, which earned them a nice scolding from a very mean jihyo.

as the banter continued between the five of you, it had been distracting you long enough to realize that jaehyun’s repeated attempts at you had finally come to a halt. mingyu must have given him a stern talking to while jungkook was busy dragging you to the house to give you an equally stern face fucking. with a few beers cracked open and everyone working in tandem on the smores, there left a lot of room for usually unnoticed things to start coming to light.

mingyu, who was still lazily holding jihyo’s waist, suddenly straightened as the chatter in the kitchen became background noise. he took another swig of his beer, but his eyes stayed locked on the way jungkook leaned slightly toward you, his shoulder brushing yours as you both laughed softly at something only the two of you could hear.

it wasn’t anything obvious—no stolen glances or shy touches— but just the way jungkook’s body naturally angled toward you, like he couldn’t help it.

mingyu’s grip tightened on the beer bottle, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. he knew jungkook well—better than anyone—and this wasn’t just friendly. realization hadn’t settled just yet, maybe he was just mistaken, reading too much into it.

it was just odd. the way your smile lingered just a bit longer for him than anyone else, it was odd.

masterlist

taglist <3: @jungshaking @junecat18

[7ndipity]

Next Time…

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: He never defined what was between you, always assuming there was next time. But what if next time isn't as certain as he thought?

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Angst, swearing, 

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I switched it up a bit and wrote it as a non-member specific drabble rather than a headcannon, I hope that’s okay. Hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He didn’t know how he ended up in this situation. Okay, that was a fucking lie, he knew exactly how he ended up in this situation, he was just too stupid and stubborn to admit it until now, until it was probably too late.

The two of you had been friends for a while now, long enough for you to trust him with a house key so he could look after your place when you were out of town, and for him to trust you with the passcode to the rehearsal and studio spaces so you could come hang out whenever you were free, which had become increasingly frequent, much to his delight.

You had grown increasingly close, hanging out constantly, always unconsciously hovering in close proximity to each other. Hell, you’d even slept in the same bed on more than one occasion, and there might have been a drunken kiss after a release party(or maybe a full blown makeout in the bathroom while his members were wandering around the party looking for him for an half an hour-), but you had never put a title to what was going on with you, despite growing pressure and teasing comments from his members and your friends.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that something was going on between the two of you, anyone with eyes could see that he was simping hard for you, but whenever one of his friends, or even you on multiple occasions, would ask him any variant of the fateful question “what are we?”, he would try to brush it off or pull some verbal acrobatics to avoid answering directly.

“We’re just friends” “Can’t we just be close without it meaning something?” “Do we need to give a name?” 

He knew it was shitty and unfair to you, he could see the disappointment and frustration in your eyes whenever he gave some vague answer. He didn’t understand why it was so hard for him to just say he was afraid; afraid of committing, afraid of things turning serious and of making plans for the future, of things going wrong and losing you like a faded memory.

He didn’t understand why it was so difficult, all he knew was how the words would stick in his throat, slowly choking him from the inside while you sat together in increasingly weighted silences.

He knew it was cowardly, the way he would find ways to distract you, something, anything else to make you smile and lift the shadow in your eyes and loosen the tension in his chest, but he would always promise himself that there would be next time. Next time he would be brave, say the words he knew you needed to hear, face the feelings that he was so scared to put a name to.

Next time…

Until one day during rehearsals, when one of the guys mentioned someone from the dance team asking you out, and he’s hit with the cold hard slap of reality that next time wasn’t the given he had taken it to be with you.

Which was why he was now sitting outside your place at fuck knows o’clock at night, waiting impatiently for you to come home, ignoring the misty rain that began to fall slowly fall, clinging to his hair and clothes. He stayed pressed against the wall outside your door, bouncing his foot anxiously til his muscles began to ache.

What he was going to say to you exactly, he had no clue, he just knew he had to say something, anything, to get you back, to fix things before it was too late, to let you know-

“What are you doing here?”

He jumped at the sound of your voice, jerking away from his position against the wall, straightening awkwardly as he took in your appearance. Your hair was styled in the way he knew you thought it looked prettiest, outfit a little too dressy to have just been out with friends, expression clear you weren’t exactly enthused by his presence outside your door like a stray cat.

“I, uh…” He stumbled, eyes tracing over your face as he tried to come up with a coherent thought.

You stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet breath, tired of waiting for him, on multiple levels.

“Look, it’s late, I’m just gonna-”

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He blurted out, making you stop, blinking at him in confusion.

“If you’re expecting me to argue, I wouldn’t hold my breath-”

“I’m not expecting anything, I just… I’m sorry, for everything.” He said sincerely, running a tense hand through his damp hair. “I’m sorry for leading you on, I’m sorry for not speaking up for us, I’m sorry for not realizing that we were an “us”... I’m sorry for not telling you how much you mean to me, and how fucking terrified I am of losing you. I’m sorry it took me til now to realize all of this. And I know I’ve been a jackass and I’m probably the last person you want to see right now-”

“I wouldn’t say the last person…” You interjected, causing him to finally stop long enough to meet your gaze again, seeing a faint glimmer of something that gives him hope.

“No?” He asked quietly.

“uh-uh.” You shook your head.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you, the weight of months of unspoken words palpable enough that if he were to reach out, he bet his hand would collide with it like a physical thing.

“Can… can I come in?” He asked softly, knowing he was asking for a lot more than just that, and he really wouldn’t blame you if you said no.

You studied him for a long moment, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth in the way he always scolded you for.

“Mhm…” You finally nodded, turning quietly to unlock the door.

He let out a breath, the tension in his muscles finally easing slightly, the ache in his chest lessening.

It wasn’t a magic fix, it wasn’t instant forgiveness, but it was a start,

It was the promise of another next time…

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er @hanaohreally

[bubblyi3]

Masterlist

a/n & disclaimer: hi! i'm selena. born and raised in aotearoa (nz), the land of the long white cloud. thanks so much for the likes, reblogs, and follows. i truly appreciate the support. i’m always open to feedback and requests, so don’t be shy. let’s be internet friends! feel free to ask me anything :)

— images credit to the original artists/owners.

Min Yoongi

Eventually, Summer -  coming of age, grumpy x sunshine trope. (completed)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Finale

Kim Taehyung

Between Us, Before Us - slice of life, major angst, fluff. (completed)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Finale

Jeon Jungkook

Residuals - childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au. (12 part series — ongoing)

Prologue || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Epilogue

Cigarettes and Clementines - heartbreak, slow-burn, second chance at love. (6 part series — in the works/coming soon) *CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Preview Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Finale

Park Jimin

Through the Veil - detective!jimin, mystery, thriller, romance, angst. (6 parts series — ongoing) *CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Finale

[hobiologist]

sugar you’re so high | kim taehyung

summary: in which taehyung, love drunk and obsessed, finally pops the question.

pairing: taehyung x (f) reader; taehyung x (f) oc

genre: fluff (an overwhelming amount) with a smut scene

rating: mature 18+, mdni

warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, dry humping, coming in pants

word count: 3k

Taehyung immersed himself inside of the bubble filled tub, allowing his restless thoughts and sore muscles to relax for the first time that day.

Truthfully, stress was rare for Taehyung — a usually bold and upbeat man who always had a smile on his face. Of course he was human; he had days where work could be tiresome or life concerns threatened to weigh him down. But not only were his fellow bandmates always there for him — his girlfriend of 2 years stood beside him as well. And he couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You’re quiet, honey.”

His large brown eyes turned to the woman he called his, her frame seated on a folded blanket next to the bathtub at his request. The idea was for him to indulge himself in the bath she had prepared for him after he called from dance practice stating how tired he was.

It was suppose to be some alone time for him to unwind — but 2 minutes in he was practically begging her to join him. She mentioned having just showered but still obliged him by sitting next the tub, running her hands through his hair.

The thing about the rarely-stressed Taehyung was that he would never attempt to hide it. That reigned true for every area of his life. If he was upset, he didn’t mind crying. If he was hungry, he didn’t mind eating until he was full and then some. And he didn’t mind expressing exhaustion when he was.

She appreciated that about him; she marveled at the fact that he didn’t attempt to hide an inch of himself from her. It was one of the first things about him that had captivated her.

Her fingertips continued to massage his scalp lightly, his body subconsciously slipping neck deep into the water as bliss consumed him.

He had a habit of melting under her touch in a way that always made her blush, leaving her a bit prideful of the power that she held over him.

More than anything, she was delighted to see him so at peace.

“I want you to relax and clear your mind. If I talk to you, that requires you thinking. Relax, T.”

At the sound of her sweet voice and the feel of her gentle strokes, Taehyung complied.

His lips pressed warm, soft kisses along the woman’s arm as she continued to stroke his hair.

Somehow the action was reminiscent of the relationship they both shared. It was delicate, passionate and calming, burning with desire, yet soft as cotton. The touches, the kisses, the gazes; they both overflowed with love and admiration for one another, assuring both of a love that would never expire.

It had been two years, after all. Two years of dating and dealing with constant separations due to Taehyung’s obligations as one of the biggest musical artist in the world.

But somehow, the passion hadn’t gone cold.

There was a genuine peace and comfort they felt in the presence of one another. An unbreakable bond that had survived a world tour, random last minute separations for company trips and long distance video calls that were sometimes only a few minutes long.

They had survived it all and they couldn’t have been more grateful.

In the tub Taehyung had fallen asleep about 10 minutes post the woman’s caresses, her taking the opportunity to shampoo his hair for him.

Their love was the definition of selfless.

After a while she pondered on whether she should wake him or not, finding herself thinking about his perfect, sun-kissed skin becoming wrinkled under the weight of water.

The idea made her nose scrunch and a small laugh slip from her lips so much so that she chose to wake him.

On her knees she leaned over the tub and ran her dry thumb over his cheek, staring at the sleeping man with eyes full of love.

Overcome with adoration, she leaned forward, kissing his pouty lips slightly. Eyelashes batting softly against his cheeks he slowly began to awaken. Seeing her flustered face hiding a smile as she looked back at him, he beamed at her, heart overcome with love in its purest form.

He was so appreciative of the way she cared for him.

He smelled the strong scent of shampoo on his hair as he began to rise from the tub, meaning she had washed his hair while he was asleep. As he rinsed himself off with the shower head, he pondered whether or not he would ever get used to the fondness they ignited in one another.

In his heart, he prayed that they’d never stray from the practice of loving one another in the most serene way they knew how.

He allowed the water to drain once he was done, taking the cotton towel she held out for him with ease.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, baby.” He breathed, drying his hair partially with the towel before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. She giggled gently into the kiss as small drops of water fell on her shoulder.

“Thankfully you’ll never have to know.”

In a matter of minutes she was seated on the bathroom counter, Taehyung captured in-between her legs with a face full of shaving cream.

“You always do this better than I can.”

His eyes were heavy with love as she gently dragged the razor across his face, mind full of the woman he planned on spending the rest of his days with.

Helping him shave had become a habit when Taehyung was far too tired, or when he just didn’t quite feel like it. When he shaved himself, the process was quick, simple, efficient; when the razor was in her hands, her gentleness extended the session for nearly 10 minutes longer than he was use to but she never noticed. And he didn’t mind.

“I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”

He cupped her thighs with his large hands as she slowly parted her lips in concentration, not daring to meet his eyes that hadn’t stopped staring at her.

He refused to look anywhere else or even grab his phone as he watched her facial expressions in adoration.

Within 20 minutes Taehyung was freshly shaven and dressed in his favorite silk pajamas, clinging to the king bed as he awaited her arrival from winding down the house for the night.

It wasn’t long before she arrived in the shared bedroom, body clad with an tshirt of Taehyung’s and a cute scarf wrapped around her head.

Though he watched her get into bed nearly every night these days, it had been a while since she had worn one of his shirts. It made his heart beat a little faster, endeared at the sight.

Seeing her in his clothes briefly gave him a thought of what a combination of the both of them might look like.

Maybe his stunning brown eyes, her perfect nose and plump cheeks.

He knew it was something that he wanted — eventually at least. Yet, the steps he had to take to get to that point were…nerve racking to him.

“Taehyung, why aren’t you asleep?”

The use of his full name drew Taehyung completely away from his sleepy daze, his large brown eyes watching her lift the comforter and slide into the bed beside him.

She laid for all of two seconds before his body rolled to her side of the mattress, completely engulfing her in his arms.

“You know I have trouble sleeping when you’re not in bed yet.” His tired voice hummed into her neck, running a tingle through the woman’s body.

“Plus, I never got a chance to thank you for taking care of me tonight. You think I’m letting that go unnoticed?” Taehyung’s warm lips that were pressed against her neck began to lay warm kisses along her collarbone.

“I love you. An unbelievable amount. You’re so good to me.”

He breathed his words as he continued to press kisses along her jawline, feeling the way she exhaled in bliss at his touch.

“You’re my world.”

His fingers slipped under the large tshirt in search of her hips, gently stroking the flesh with his fingertips. Once he made contact she released a quick breath, goosebumps covering her skin.

“I love you too, Taehyung. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?” He smirked as he lifted the shirt higher, pressing kisses to her hips and earning an immediate shudder from the woman above, her eyes closing as his kisses spread across her stomach.

She knew what he was asking for.

She saw it in the way his eyes looked up at her, half lidded and covered in a lust that made her nearly combust at the sight.

He was breathtaking in his own right but he was exceptionally beautiful like this — laid between her legs, honey skin flushed with lust, practically begging to taste her on his tongue.

“Anything baby.”

He hummed in satisfaction, a devious but kind smile on his face and he pressed kisses to her wet clit, earning an immediate whimper from her.

“Moaning already? That was just one little kiss, baby.“

He pressed another kiss, this time to her folds, earning another whimper from above. He smiled as he slowly began to dip his tongue into the folds, warm arousal wet on his tongue immediately.

He moaned at the taste, bringing one of his gentle fingers to her entrance.

There was an art form in the way Taehyung tasted her; it was her favorite thing, watching him devour her so wholly — as if she was his last meal.

He always found himself so focused on her pleasure that he often got carried away; so carried away that he hardly ever noticed the way he would begin to grind his hips back and forth, his dick solid and aching, precum beginning to slip through the front of his silk pajama pants.

It drove her insane, watching him so caught up in her; so drunk off the way she tasted.

By now he was 3 fingers deep, lips sucking gently on her clit as she nearly cried from pleasure.

She wanted to tease him; tell him how filthy he looked fucking himself off the taste of her. But she was cumming around his fingers with a cry of pleasure long before she could, his name leaving her lips as she tugged on his hair.

The slight pull of his strands was all it took before he was pulling away from her wet folds, burying his face into her thigh with a groan as he desperately released himself into his pants. He gripped her thighs to steady himself as he slowly rocked back and forth, riding out his high as she continued to tug lightly on his hair.

Pure ecstasy.

When the next day rolled around, the woman wasn’t awake until half past ten.

Even once she woke, she didn’t allow herself to move too soon, tired body nearly engraved into the comforter after the night before.

She only opened her eyes when she sensed the coolness to her side. The chilly sheets indicated to her that no one had inhabited them for a while.

“Taehyung?”

The woman’s voice, heavy with sleep, was as loud as she could spare, finally lifting her tired body away from her sheets. As her senses began to come-to, the familiar aroma of pancakes began to fill her nose.

She quickly concluded that Taehyung must be cooking.

With a hum of understanding she dragged herself to the bathroom to freshen up before heading downstairs to see her beloved boyfriend.

The man she loved most in the world.

It wasn’t until she had grabbed her toothbrush from its handle and opened the cap that she had noticed the ring on her finger.

In all its glory, the beautiful 4-carat diamond shined, heavy on her hand in a way she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice as soon as she awakened.

With the water still running the woman nearly dropped her toothbrush in the sink, staring at the ring until she felt her mouth grow dry.

She would have never brought anything like it for herself. It was far too expensive and extravagant to be one of the few casual rings she owned. She was positive that Taehyung had never purchased any rings for her; they weren’t her usual jewelry staple and he knew that. Her mind raced as she shook her head in confusion.

Once she got her bearings she turned off the running water and nearly marched down the small set of stairs, heart racing in anticipation and search of answers.

She turned the thin corner to walk into the kitchen, eyes finding a sleepy Taehyung beaming fondly at her. Immediately he peaked his head from behind the bouquet of white roses he held close to his chest.

Her mouth was slightly agape as he handed her the flowers, her hands shaking and palms clammy.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Fondly Taehyung smiled, staring at her shocked expression and trying to gauge her thoughts.

Not trusting her shaking voice, the woman proceeded to simply lift her hand, turning it towards her boyfriend in search of an explanation. Taehyung kissed her forehead as he took her the ring-clad hand into his, smile never leaving his lips.

The way his brown eyes danced around the diamond made the woman’s stomach flip, watching him study it closely as if he had never seen it before.

In all honesty, he was admiring the way it looked on her finger — just right.

“It’s a beautiful, ring, don’t you think? It reminded me so much of you.”

He had envisioned it for the entirety of their relationship — a diamond of his choice being placed on her finger as a small symbol of the life commitment he wanted to make to her.

And after months of talking to Namjoon and Hoseok, who were happily married to their respective wives, he knew he was ready to take the biggest step he could in this life.

He had been beyond nervous.

Taehyung had awaken at 5 in the morning to rehearse his written lines for his proposal. Yet, the more he stared at the ring and the woman he loved that stood before him with cutest look of confusion on her face, the less he remembered his perfectly prepared speech.

With a heart full of love and a mind full of memories, Taehyung quickly got down on a single knee in the middle of the kitchen, holding his girlfriend’s shaking hand in his own.

That was when the tears really began to flow.

The pair began crying as their eyes met, taking a second to embrace this moment; standing in the weight of what it meant.

“Goodness, baby, don’t make me cry yet!”

Taehyung chuckled as he held her hand more tightly, wiping his tears with his free hand. The woman above him gave a small chuckle as she tried her best to stop breaking down, wanting to give him a chance to speak what had been on his heart for far too long.

Tearfully, he stared into her large eyes that awaited him, trying to calm his heart so he could speak from it with sincerity.

“In the two years that I’ve known you, you’ve shown me that love is an action, rather than an emotion. I’ve watch you continuously love me and care for me; embrace the people i love as if they’re your own. You’ve truly shown me what love is and made me feel an unbreakable attachment to you. I’ve fallen in love with your smile, your hugs, your touch; the way you comfort me. The way you never turn your back on me.”

He released a breath but kept his genuine eyes glued to her, watching her put a shaking hand to her mouth as tears continued to fall.

“I knew I loved you when I couldn’t stand to be away from you for too long; when I was on tour and I’d rush to the hotel so I could call you. Ever since I met you I haven’t envisioned a life that doesn’t have you by my side. It’s all I want. You’re flawless, hardworking, determined, lovely, beautiful — serene in all that you do; loving me in spite of my faults and flaws. I want to spend every day I have on this earth with you, being the man of your dreams and loving you with every inch of me — if you’d have me. Will you marry me?”

By now, tears nearly made the woman incoherent. The pure surprise of it all made her tremble, but Taehyung’s actual words were what brought her to her sobbing state.

Taehyung gripped her hand more tightly and kissed it gently, almost as if to playfully remind her that he was waiting for a response.

No matter how obvious she made her answer by her actions, his heart still shook with anticipation.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Taehyung. Yes, yes, yes!” A beaming smile poked through the her cries, tearstained cheeks rising to form a smile that rivaled his own.

Taehyung jumped to his feet hurriedly, immediately cupping the sides of the woman’s face with his large hands as he pressed his lips onto hers.

The kiss was slow and gentle, their lips moving in unison that lingered with a new found hunger. Adrenaline rushed through their veins as they held one another, continuing to share tearful kisses.

As they pulled apart briefly for air, the pair stared at her hand that rested just over his heart.

Their eyes fixated on the diamond ring before meeting one another’s gaze, glossy eyes filled with love and warmth.

This was the start of a new chapter — their first step towards forever.

“You continue to make me the happiest man alive. I can’t wait to call you mine forever.”

[riri01vbbe]

Governor's Secrets - J. JK ft. Jimin

SYNOPSIS: In a world where women are meant to obey, Y/N is forced into marriage with an older, powerful governor. Behind his respectable facade lies abuse, corruption, and dangerous secrets. When she dares to fight back, she risks everything.  GENRE: Feminist Revenge | Social Issues | Dark | Age gap TW: abuse, control, resistance.  WC: 21.4k 💀

Find my stories here

Masterlist Wattpad

(Just a visual representation of 1905) 

⋆⊰━━━⊱⋆

You were the child of a mistress. Your father's illicit affair with your mother marked your very existence as a sin in the eyes of the world. He already had a wife and a son, yet he still chose another woman. Your mother. She died when you were just ten.

Your stepmother never wanted you in her home, but because you carried your father's blood, she was forced to give you a place under her roof. That "place" was nothing more than a corner of the house, a constant reminder that you were unwanted. Her eyes held nothing but disdain, and her son mirrored her hatred.

Your father never cared for women not his wife, not your mother, and certainly not you. To him, a woman's worth began in the kitchen and ended in a man's bed. School? A waste of time. Like your mother, you were never allowed to attend. You were given home schooling, and for a while, you were grateful until the day you turned fourteen. That was when your father decided girls didn't need to learn at all. "You'll marry and serve your husband. That's all you're meant for," he said, his voice void of care. You had no one to stand for you. Your mother had been powerless in life; your stepmother had no spine, no respect, and certainly no love for you.

Your brother had just turned twenty-three, newly engaged to a beautiful woman from a wealthy family. She was educated, more than you would ever be something your father resented at first. But when the dowry offered was immense, he agreed without hesitation.

They had no warmth between them, no tenderness. Your brother was always cold, dismissive, wrapped in his work even when she visited. You watched them and wondered if all men were destined to be like your father distant, unfeeling, and cruel. ------

Your brother's wedding came and went in a haze of gold and forced smiles. His bride, Loona, looked radiant on the outside, yet her eyes carried a distant sadness. Perhaps she missed her family or perhaps she simply couldn't bring herself to love the man she had married. You didn't know, and you dared not ask.

After the wedding, Loona would sometimes seek you out when the two of you were alone at home. Her voice was soft, her company a rare comfort in a house that had never welcomed you. But when your brother noticed, his coldness turned to cruelty. He forbade her from speaking to you again, calling you filth a mistress's child. His words stung, not because they were new, but because they had been spoken your whole life in one form or another.

Still, you and Loona found moments in the shadows, whispering to each other in secret, careful that your brother or stepmother never caught you. But such fragile warmth never lasted long in your world.

One evening, your father summoned you. His expression was unreadable, his tone final. He introduced you to a man, Governor Jeon Jungkook. He was in his thirties; you were just eightteen.

When you protested, saying you weren't ready for marriage, your father's voice cut through you like a blade.

"Girls by eighteen are already married and have children now. Men don't want a mistress's daughter. You should be grateful a man like him wants you."

Grateful. That word burned in your chest. Jungkook was a widower, his first wife long gone.

"You should be glad he has no children," your father added coldly. "Otherwise you'd be burdened with them as well."

You didn't know whether to feel relief or dread. All you knew was that there was no choice. No one in that house had ever been kind to you; no one had ever fought for you. And those who dared come close were always taken away. So you agreed to the marriage not out of love, but because the cage they offered was no worse than the one you were already in.

His aura cold and dominating. It wasn't just that he could be dangerous, it was that he was. You knew, instinctively, that this was a man you should never cross.

He was wealthy, influential, a high-ranking figure in the government. Your father was overjoyed by the match, his pride thinly veiling the greed in his eyes. With a governor as his son-in-law, his business would flourish, his status would rise. Perhaps that was the real reason you had been given to Jungkook another calculated transaction, sealed with your vows.

Now, standing in the grand halls of Jungkook's home, you felt the weight of your new reality. The white wedding dress clung to you, heavy with lace and expectation, but nothing was heavier than the pressure in your chest.

Jungkook's voice broke the silence, deep and firm.

"This will be your room," he said, gesturing toward a lavish chamber.

Your eyes followed his hand, but your mind was elsewhere, on the finality of those words, on the fact that every belonging you'd ever had was already here. You barely had time to take in the towering windows and gold-trimmed furniture before he spoke again, already turning toward the door.

"I have important work to attend to. Rest."

And just like that, he left no lingering touch, no wedding night tradition, not even a backward glance.

The silence that followed was deafening. You sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of your gown pooling around you like chains, and wondered if this was what the rest of your life would feel like beautiful, suffocating, and utterly alone.

You weren't ready for this not the marriage, not the sudden shift in your life, and certainly not him. Everything felt foreign, overwhelming, but perhaps not for Jungkook. No, he seemed entirely unfazed, as though this union were just another transaction.

You could tell by the cold efficiency in his words, by the way his eyes slid past you that women held little value to him. He was attentive and courteous only toward the male officials in the government, the businessmen he worked with, and the rare, well-educated woman who crossed his path with purpose. You, however, barely registered in his world. It was as if you were invisible, a shadow trailing beside him.

It was all too familiar. Your family had treated you the same way like a burden, like a presence to be tolerated, not cherished. And now, Jungkook stood in their place or perhaps he would prove to be worse. You didn't know yet.

As the door closed behind him, you exhaled a long, steady breath. For now, his absence was a relief. You could savor the silence, wrap yourself in it. You had always been your own companion, your own solace tonight would be no different. -----

It had been a week since you married Jeon Jungkook. In that short span, you had learned two things he was cold, and he was rarely home. You understood he was a governor, that his position demanded long hours and endless obligations, but even on the rare occasions he was home, his attention belonged to papers, reports, and meetings not you.

That night, the clock had already drifted deep into darkness when you heard the heavy sound of the front door unlocking. He stepped inside, his tie loosened, his eyes sharp yet glazed the unmistakable scent of liquor clinging to him. Without so much as a greeting, he sank into the armchair and ordered, voice low and firm,

"Take off my shoes. And my jacket."

You obeyed without a word. Normally, one of the maids would tend to him, but they had long since gone home, assuming he wouldn't return tonight. Your hands worked silently, unfastening the buttons of his suit jacket, sliding his shoes away.

Then, without warning, he leaned closer. His breath, hot and laced with alcohol, ghosted against the side of your neck. You froze.

"Undress me," he murmured.

Your head snapped toward him. "What?"

He smirked faintly, not repeating himself, only leaning in until his words curled against your ear. "You heard me. A good wife should please her husband."

The words hit you like ice water. Your mind stuttered, your chest tightened. This was your first time, your first time being asked for something so intimate, so raw. You had once imagined giving yourself to someone you loved, someone who saw you, cared for you. Jungkook did not. He saw only the title you carried.

But you knew better than to refuse. If you denied him, he would tell your father. And your father would rage, call you unfit to be a wife, remind you that you should be grateful for the marriage he arranged.

So you obeyed.

Jungkook was not gentle. There was no tenderness, no care. He took what he wanted, pleasing only himself, leaving you with nothing but a hollow ache and a sharp sting that no one would ever ask about.

Later, he fell asleep beside you, chest rising in steady, indifferent breaths, as if nothing had happened. You lay there, wide-eyed in the dark, your heart twisting painfully.

So this was your life now to please a man who did not see you and to bear his children. To be invisible, forever. -----

Jungkook had gone to yet another meeting, leaving the mansion quiet, lifeless. You moved about the house like a ghost cooking when you felt like it, sometimes cleaning, though there were maids for that. But deep inside, what you longed for was freedom. The outside world called to you.

Yet Jungkook never allowed you to go. His words still echoed in your ears, sharp and final "It's not safe for women. Stay home."

Perhaps he was right. The world was dangerous. But wasn't this just another kind of danger being locked away, caged, suffocating within gilded walls?

The truth was bitter. All Jungkook ever did was use your body. He would take what he wanted and then leave, walking away without a glance, leaving you with nothing but a hollow emptiness that clawed at your chest. You tried not to cry, but the sadness lingered, poisoning your heart.

You stopped expecting more. Men, you told yourself, were all the same. Those novels, those poems, those tales of love and devotion they were nothing but lies. There was no gentleness in reality, no care, no tenderness.

When Jungkook did take you out, it was never for you. It was for him government functions, social galas, parties where men talked business and women were ornaments. At his side, you weren't a person. You were a title. A wife. A pretty accessory who smiled when needed and kept silent otherwise.

Three months of marriage had already left you gasping for air, your soul pressed flat under the weight of loneliness.

Then came the letter.

It was from Loona, your brother's wife. She had risked so much by writing to you. Your stepmother and brother had forbidden her from speaking to you, from showing you even the smallest kindness. Yet still, she did. Perhaps because she, too, felt like an outsider in that house. Perhaps because she saw in you the sister she never had.

You treasured those letters. They were your only comfort.

You wrote of your isolation, of Jungkook's coldness, of the endless nights where you felt unseen. Loona's reply came quickly, her words brimming with warmth and insistence "Beg him. Ask him to take you out. That's what I do. I plead with your brother until he gives in. Try it. Maybe Jungkook will listen."

Her suggestion startled you. Beg? You had never lowered yourself like that before. But as your eyes lingered on her inked words, you wondered.

Would it truly be so wrong to ask? Would it be weakness or survival? -----

You finally gathered the courage to ask Jungkook to take you out. At first, his reply was cold, almost dismissive. "I cannot be with you all the time, so I can't take you out."

For a moment, your heart sank but you refused to give up. You pleaded, your voice trembling yet persistent, afraid he might grow irritated and lock you further inside those walls. But to your surprise, he didn't scold you. He didn't even seem annoyed.

Instead, he agreed.

For the first time in months, a fragile flicker of hope sparked inside you. Perhaps, he would treat you like a wife, like someone worthy of his presence.

But your hope was foolish.

Jungkook didn't take you anywhere for yourself. He brought you along as an afterthought, as an accessory to his work. The destination, an orphanage.

He ran it under his name, a charity for the government, a noble act for society. For him, it was duty, reputation, image. For you, it was suffocating. Sitting there in the carriage, then outside the building, you realized bitterly that it would have been better not to ask at all. Better to have stayed at home, in your prison, than to taste a freedom so hollow.

When you arrived, Jungkook turned to you with that same commanding detachment. "Stay out here," he ordered before disappearing inside.

So you sat. Alone. While he conversed with caretakers and officials, his voice faint but steady behind the walls, you stared at the children running around, the stone steps beneath your feet, the empty sky above.

You couldn't even understand what he was doing in there. His work was always cloaked in complexities that made you feel small, foolish. Perhaps if you had studied more, been educated like the men, you would understand. But society hadn't allowed you that luxury. Your father hadn't allowed it.

And yet, even with the knowledge denied to you, you weren't stupid. You were smart enough to see the truth of your cage. Smart enough to feel the bitter irony of being treated like less than the very orphans he was trying to save.

You were drowning in boredom, sitting outside while Jungkook's voice echoed faintly from within the orphanage walls. At last, unable to bear the silence, you rose for a little walk.

That's when you saw her.

A small girl at the back garden, her laughter carrying on the breeze as she chased butterflies with clumsy steps. She looked so alive, so free that you couldn't help but smile.

She jumped, stretching her little arms toward a flower that danced just out of reach. Without thinking, you stepped closer, plucked it, and held it out to her. Her wide eyes brightened, and she accepted it with both hands.

"Thank you," she mumbled shyly.

Your lips curved, almost forgetting your misery for a moment. You ruffled her soft hair. "What's your name, little one?"

"My name is Duri," she replied, her voice gentle but proud.

"That's a lovely name," you said warmly. She gave you a shy, toothy smile, clutching the flower to her chest.

Not long after, another girl appeared. She was older—around your age, or perhaps a year younger. She hurried over, bowing politely. "I'm sorry if she caused you any trouble," she said quickly.

"Oh no, not at all," you assured her. "I was just helping her reach a flower."

The girl fell silent, her gaze softening as she looked at Duri.

"Are you two sisters?" you asked curiously.

She shook her head. "No. We just met here at the orphanage. But, I do consider her my little sister."

Something tugged at your chest. "I'm Y/n. Jeon Y/n. It's nice to meet you both."

The girl hesitated, then smiled faintly. "I'm Eva. It's n-nice meeting you too," she said, her voice stuttering as though unused to such introductions.

You crouched slightly, turning to Duri. "And how old are you?"

She raised her small hands proudly, showing seven fingers. "I'm seven. And Eva is seventeen she's much bigger than me."

You laughed softly. "That's wonderful. I'm eighteen. Soon to be nineteen."

The three of you walked slowly along the orphanage grounds, talking about little things. For the first time in so long, the air around you felt warm, human. You never got to have this. You were home-schooled, trapped in grand but empty walls, where children of relatives stared at you with disdain. They knew what you were the mistress's child. A stain.

But here, with Eva and Duri, there was no judgment. Only innocent company. For a fleeting moment, you felt what it might be like to belong. -----

After leaving the orphanage, the image of Duri's shy smile and Eva's soft voice lingered in your mind. Their innocence had wrapped around you like a fragile warmth you hadn't felt in years.

Back at home, the silence pressed down on you again. The grand walls seemed colder than ever, swallowing every thought. You paced, restless, until finally you turned to Jungkook.

"Can we, go back?" you asked hesitantly.

He didn't even glance up from his work. "Back where?"

"To the orphanage. I- I want to see them again. Duri and Eva."

His pen stilled, and he looked at you as if you'd said something foolish. "Y/n, I can't be running to orphanages just because you're bored. I have work. Important work."

The dismissal stung, but you didn't give up. You moved closer, tugging gently at his sleeve. "Please. It's so lonely here. I'll stay out of your way, I promise. I just- I just want to meet them. Spend some time there. Please, Jungkook."

He sighed, his jaw tightening as if you were pulling him into a battle he had no interest in fighting. For a moment, you thought he'd refuse again.

But then, with a curt nod, he gave in. "Fine. If it stops you from nagging me, I'll take you. But don't expect me to waste time playing with children. I'm going because you asked. That's all."

You didn't care about his cold words, only that he had agreed. Your heart leapt, relief flooding through you. At last, you'd have a chance to see Duri's bright smile again, to talk with Eva without feeling like a ghost in your own house. For once, it wasn't about Jungkook's world or his endless work. It was about yours. A small, fragile world that made you feel alive.

Most of the time, you would beg Jungkook to take you to the orphanage so you could meet Eva and Duri. At first, he brushed you off, irritation flickering in his eyes. Finally, one evening, his patience snapped.

"Y/n," he muttered sharply, "if you want to see them so badly, then go. Take a carriage, take the driver, I don't care. Just stop pestering me about it."

You froze at his words, but instead of hurt, a quiet joy stirred inside you. He had given permission, even if only to silence you. That was enough.

From then on, visiting the orphanage became your escape. Each time, you brought baskets of cookies and snacks from the mansion, watching Duri's eyes light up as she nibbled happily. Eva would smile softly, almost protective, and for the first time, you felt like you belonged somewhere.

But soon, the visits weren't enough. You wanted to share your world with them, to let them step into the mansion that never felt like a home to you. With hesitant courage, you asked the orphan caretakers if you could take the girls with you. And because you carried Jungkook's name, his power they didn't question a thing.

So you began bringing them secretly. Sometimes only for an afternoon, sometimes for a whole evening, sneaking them into the vast halls where laughter had never lived. The maids saw, the workers noticed, but no one dared speak a word to Jungkook.

Because if he found out, you knew exactly what his reaction would be. His wrath was cold, merciless, and you feared he would never forgive you.

Yet, each time Duri ran through the corridors with her flower crowns, or Eva hummed softly while helping you in the kitchen, you felt alive. It was a dangerous secret, one that could shatter everything but you clung to it, because their presence filled the emptiness Jungkook never could. ----

There was an event that night in the Jeon mansion, hosted at the governor's house. You had no idea what it was for, or why people were celebrating. Jungkook never told you, and you never dared to ask. Silence had become safer than questions.

The maids prepared you carefully, draping you in silk and painting your face with colors that weren't yours. The gown had been chosen by Jungkook himself he had only said, "You need to look good." So you wore it.

When you were finally ready, the maids stepped aside and slipped out of the room. The air shifted as Jungkook entered. His presence always seemed heavier than the silence. He walked toward you slowly, his gaze lingering in a way that made your throat tighten.

"The dress looks good on you," he said, stopping behind you. He turned you toward the mirror, his dark eyes watching you through the reflection, while yours dropped to your lap. Your fingers twisted nervously, searching for comfort in themselves.

"The president will be there tonight," Jungkook's voice dropped lower, brushing against your ear. "And I want my wife to look good." His words sent a chill down your spine. You nodded faintly, not daring to answer.

Then, from a velvet box, he pulled out a necklace. Cold metal brushed your skin as he clasped it around your neck. The diamonds sparkled cruelly under the light too heavy, too suffocating. You stared at it, your chest rising and falling faster with every breath.

"This necklace looks perfect on you," he murmured, a thin smile curving his lips.

But you knew what it meant. It wasn't a gift, it was a chain. To him, you weren't a woman. You were a display. A doll dressed in the finest silks and jewels, something to flaunt under the watchful eyes of society and tonight, you were his masterpiece in a gilded cage.

The ballroom glittered beneath chandeliers, every corner soaked in gold and laughter. Governors, ministers, and wealthy businessmen moved like pieces on a chessboard, their conversations sharp, their eyes hungrier than the feast laid before them. You stood beside Jungkook, your hand resting against the cold fabric of his suit, trying to steady the storm in your chest.

"President Kang will arrive soon," Jungkook murmured, his hand pressing lightly against the small of your back. His touch wasn't affectionate it was guiding, steering you like one of his possessions. "Stay close."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to nod.

Your gaze flickered across the hall, searching. Eva was here. You had slipped her in earlier, giving her one of your own gowns and a set of jewels from your collection. She looked radiant, almost too radiant for a girl from the orphanage. You'd thought it was harmless, a way to pass the endless hours of smiling at strangers while Jungkook was busy charming businessmen and striking deals. He never paid attention to women anyway at least, not in detail. He wouldn't notice.

But now, your stomach knotted. The president. This was no ordinary gathering, no casual evening. This was politics, power, and every mistake carried consequences you couldn't imagine. What if Jungkook noticed her? What if someone questioned her presence? The dress was expensive, the jewels unmistakable. You had handed Eva a disguise that might betray you both.

Your hands trembled against the folds of your gown, and you tried to still them by pressing your fingers together.

Jungkook's deep voice pulled you back. "The president is here."

The room hushed for a moment as President Kang entered, his entourage trailing like shadows. His eyes swept the crowd until Jungkook moved forward with that commanding stride, his arm still keeping you tethered to him. You tried to breathe evenly, to keep your face calm, though your heart thundered in your ears.

"President Park," Jungkook greeted smoothly, bowing his head just enough to show respect without lowering himself. "It's an honor to have you here."

The president gave a polite smile, shaking Jungkook's hand firmly before his gaze shifted toward you. Jungkook's hand pressed against your back again, nudging you forward like a prized possession being presented.

"This is my wife," Jungkook said simply, the pride in his tone sharp, heavy. "Y/n."

You lifted your chin, offering the faintest smile, but your vision blurred with panic. Just beyond the president's shoulder, you saw her. Eva. Standing near the marble pillars, watching wide-eyed at the scene, her borrowed jewels glittering under the lights. She was too close. Too visible.

You prayed silently that no one would notice, that Eva would stay in the shadows. But with every passing second, the weight of Jungkook's hand on your back felt heavier. He hadn't noticed yet. But if he did.

Your lips parted, a breathless whisper lost under the hum of the party. "Please, don't let him see."

When Jungkook excused himself to join the president and a circle of governors, you were left standing alone among jeweled gowns and sharp-eyed strangers. Your lips hurt from the forced smile you'd been wearing, and the heavy necklace around your throat felt like a chain pulling you down. You seized the moment, slipping through the crowd until you finally spotted Eva near one of the tall windows.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered hurriedly as you reached her, your voice thick with guilt. "I had to leave you alone, I couldn't- he never lets me-"

Eva only smiled gently, cutting off your ramble. "It's fine. You're the governor's wife now. It's, understandable." Her eyes softened, a quiet reassurance, as if she'd already expected this.

Relief swelled in your chest, loosening the knot of tension inside you. Together, the two of you retreated toward the refreshment tables, slipping into a pocket of anonymity in the glittering chaos. The music swelled, glasses clinked, and for a few stolen minutes, you almost felt normal. You and Eva laughed softly over sweet wine, nibbling on pastries, sharing fragments of whispers like you used to back at the orphanage.

When the night deepened, you touched her arm, ready to send her off before Jungkook could notice. "You should go now," you murmured, forcing a smile. "Thank you for coming. It means so much that you're here."

Eva nodded, still smiling, and you felt your shoulders ease, until a shadow fell across you both.

"Y/n."

His voice was sharp enough to slice the air in two.

You froze, the wineglass trembling in your hand. Jungkook stood just behind you, his gaze locked on Eva. His expression wasn't anger not yet but curiosity sharpened with suspicion. His eyes dragged down her gown, then lingered on the delicate earrings glinting at her ears. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Who is she?" he asked quietly, though the steel beneath his tone was unmistakable.

Your throat went dry. "She's, she's my friend," you managed, forcing steadiness into your voice though your heart raced.

Jungkook's gaze narrowed. His hand lifted slightly, fingers brushing the air toward Eva's earrings. "Those... look familiar." His eyes cut back to you. "And that dress. Isn't it yours?"

"Who's she? Where does she come from?" he asks.

You couldn't breathe. You tried to hold his stare, tried to come up with something, anything but your silence betrayed you.

Before you could speak, Eva stepped forward with disarming calm, her voice steady. "I came from the orphanage," she said simply.

The word orphan hung heavy in the air, striking like thunder. Around you, the laughter of the hall carried on, oblivious, but here between the three of you the world seemed to stop. Jungkook's eyes darkened as they shifted from Eva back to you and in that moment, you knew: you had made a mistake bringing her here. ----

The last guest had barely left when Jungkook's hand clamped around your wrist like a steel shackle. He didn't say a word, didn't even look at you as he dragged you through the mansion's endless halls. His silence was worse than his rage it was the silence of a storm right before it breaks.

The heavy doors to his room slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the vast chamber. You tried to steady your breath, but the moment you lifted your eyes to meet his, you froze. His stare was merciless, burning with the humiliation you had caused him.

"You dare," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "You dare to bring her here. To dress her in your clothes, wear your jewels. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I was a fool?"

"I- I didn't mean-" you stammered, but your words were cut off as Jungkook pushed you against the wall, his hand pinning both your wrists above your head.

"You don't mean?" His breath was hot against your ear. "You meant to disobey me. You meant to shame me. And now, you will learn."

He yanked you away from the wall and threw you onto the bed. You scrambled back, fear gripping your chest, but Jungkook was already pulling a small key from his pocket. Before you could react, he snapped cold, iron cuffs around your wrists, chaining them to the carved headboard.

"Jungkook!" you cried, panic flooding your voice. You pulled at the cuffs, the metal biting into your skin. "Please, let me go!"

But his expression was stone, unreadable. He leaned down, brushing your hair back with chilling tenderness before gripping your jaw tightly. "No. You need to understand. You will never meet her again. You will never see them again. The orphanage, the friends, the scraps of your old life it's over. From tonight, you belong only to me."

Tears spilled from your eyes, but he didn't soften. His grip tightened, forcing you to hold his gaze.

"You thought you could play games with me? That you could bring your little friend here while I was busy with the president? I don't take disobedience lightly, Y/n."

He straightened, his voice dropping lower, colder. "From now on, you don't step outside this house unless I take you. You don't speak to anyone unless I allow it. And you don't breathe without remembering who owns you."

The words struck you harder than his grip.

Finally, he let go of your jaw and stepped back, watching you struggle against the chains with a satisfaction that chilled you to the bone. "You'll sleep here tonight like this. Maybe then you'll remember what happens when you defy me."

He turned and walked toward the door, pausing only once to glance back. His eyes gleamed in the dim light, cold and resolute. The door shut with a final thud, leaving you trembling in the silence, bound and powerless in the gilded prison he had made for you. -----

The days after the punishment bled into each other, quiet yet suffocating. Jungkook hardly looked at you, and when he did, his gaze was sharp, cold, as if you were nothing more than another piece of furniture in the mansion.

There were no maids anymore. He dismissed them all with a single command, leaving the vast house to you alone. Every morning you woke to endless chores, sweeping the marble halls, polishing the chandeliers, scrubbing the stairs until your knees ached. You cooked, cleaned, and served, your hands raw and blistered, your body weary. Yet no matter how spotless the mansion gleamed, Jungkook's expression never changed. He passed by you as though you didn't exist.

Nights were worse. He came and went without a word, his silence a punishment sharper than chains. You had grown used to watching him at gatherings, commanding every room with his presence, but now, even in the same house, he felt worlds away. You longed for him to speak, even if only in anger. Instead, he left you with the ache of being invisible.

Weeks crawled by before you finally gathered the courage to ask. One night, after leaving his study, you stopped him in the hall. "Jungkook, what about Eva? And Duri?"

He didn't respond. His eyes flicked to you briefly, then past you, as if you were a shadow blocking his path.

You tried again the next morning. "Please, tell me something. I just want to know if they're safe."

Again, silence. He brushed past you without a word, leaving your heart sinking further.

Your begging continued for days. At the dining table, in the corridors, at night when you dared whisper to him yet his indifference was unshakable. Every unanswered plea gnawed at your chest until you felt yourself unraveling.

Finally, one evening, as you followed him into his study, desperate and trembling, he stopped mid-step. His shoulders stiffened. For the first time in weeks, he turned to face you.

"Enough," he said, his tone like ice.

You froze, lips parting to plead again, but his eyes silenced you before the words could escape.

"Eva is gone," Jungkook said flatly. "Adopted by a family. Forget her. Forget both of them. You will not see them again, and you will not speak of them again."

The words struck you like a blade, tearing through the fragile hope you'd been clinging to. Your breath hitched, a sob rising in your throat, but he only looked at you with cold finality.

"Quit asking me," he finished, his voice steady, almost cruel in its calmness. "You have a house to care for. That is your only duty."

Then he turned, leaving you standing alone in the vast, silent room.

Your knees buckled, but you didn't fall. You stood frozen, staring at the door he had walked through, your heart aching with the thought of Eva dressed in borrowed jewelry, her smile fading into memory, and little Duri alone now, waiting in that orphanage without her only friend.

You pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, swallowing your sobs, but the pain only grew heavier. You could only hope that they were safe, even if you would never see them again and in that moment, surrounded by gilded walls that felt more like a cage, you realized just how completely Jungkook had severed you from the only pieces of your past that made you feel alive. -----

The doorbell echoed faintly through the quiet halls of the Jeon mansion. With no maids around, it was you who hurried across the marble floor, your hands still damp from scrubbing dishes. A postman stood outside, handing you a single thick envelope stamped with the insignia of the orphanage.

Your heart skipped. A letter from the orphan. For the first time in weeks, something sparked inside you. Maybe it was from Duri. Maybe a drawing, or just a note written with those clumsy little hands. Smiling faintly, you tore the envelope open in the foyer, fingers trembling with eagerness.

But as your eyes scanned the first lines, the smile faltered. The words didn't sound like Duri. They didn't sound like a child at all.

"...she can't please the man. She wasn't good at pleasuring. He no longer wants her. He said he would give her back. Should we send her somewhere else?"

You blinked at the paper, confusion knotting your brow. What was this? Your lips silently shaped the words again. Please, pleasing a man? Giving her back?

Your chest tightened. The letter slipped slightly in your hands, but you forced yourself to keep reading, eyes darting across every cruel line.

The more you read, the less sense it made. Jungkook had told you Eva was adopted by a family. Adopted. Safe. That was what you believed, what you clung to each night when you thought of her. But these words, they were something else entirely.

Pleasure. Not good enough. Giving her back.

It was only when the phrase repeated in your head over and over that the meaning crashed down on you.

Eva. She wasn't adopted. She was sold. Sent away not to a family, but to a man. A man who had used her, judged her, and discarded her.

Your knees gave way beneath you. You sank onto the cold floor, the letter shaking violently in your grasp. A choked sob broke free, your breath stuttering as you tried to swallow it back.

"No... no, no, no..." you whispered, shaking your head furiously.

It couldn't be true. Jungkook wouldn't lie like that. He wouldn't, he couldn't.

But the words were right there, etched into paper, dripping with a reality so vile it burned your chest. Eva sweet, bright-eyed Eva reduced to nothing more than a body to be used, to be tested, to be thrown away.

Tears blurred your vision as the letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the polished floor. You pressed your palms to your mouth, trying to smother the scream rising in your throat. Your body trembled, heart thundering, a pain so raw tearing through you that it left you breathless.

The mansion, with its chandeliers and golden walls, suddenly felt like a coffin. Silent. Merciless and in that silence, only one thought clawed its way through your despair.

Jungkook lied. He knew. He knew, and he still looked you in the eyes, telling you she was safe. He severed your hope with a lie.

Your hands curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as you wept, broken and furious all at once. Because now you knew the truth. And nothing would ever be the same again.

The letter was still trembling in your hands when the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. You jerked your head up, wiping furiously at your tears, but it was too late.

Jungkook appeared at the end of the hallway, his expression unreadable, gaze instantly dropping to the scattered envelope on the floor. His eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing?" His voice was low, clipped, dangerous.

You clutched the paper to your chest as though it would vanish if he took it. Your lips trembled, but then anger surged, drowning out the fear.

"You lied to me!" The words ripped out of you, raw and shaking. "You said Eva was adopted, that she was safe. And all this time-" You shoved the letter at him, your hands trembling violently. "This is what you gave her to? To a man? To be used?"

His jaw clenched. "Give me that," he ordered, stepping closer.

You stumbled back, pressing the paper tighter against your chest. "No! I read it. Every word. She wasn't adopted. She was sold. Sold like some object!" Your voice cracked as tears streamed down your cheeks. "She's still a minor, Jungkook!"

His nostrils flared, but he didn't answer. He only kept advancing, slow, deliberate.

"Say something!" you screamed, your chest heaving. "Don't stand there like this is nothing. Do you have any idea what you've done? What she must be going through? How could you- how could you..."

"Enough." His voice was sharp, slicing the air, but you didn't stop. You couldn't.

"No! I won't shut up this time!" You pounded a fist against his chest, your tears hot and unrelenting. "You've ruined her. You've ruined all of them. And you lied to me! You looked me in the eyes and told me she was safe! Do you even care, Jungkook? Do you care about anyone but yourself?"

His hands twitched at his sides, his chest rising and falling in harsh breaths. Your words were daggers, each one tearing through the composure he wore like armor.

"Say it!" you shouted, your voice breaking. "Say you destroyed her life! Say you're a monster-"

The crack echoed through the grand hall.

Your head whipped to the side, cheek stinging with the force of his slap. For a moment, silence swallowed everything, the ticking of the clock, the faint rustle of curtains, even your own breath.

Slowly, your wide eyes turned back to him. His chest was heaving, his hand still raised, fingers trembling as though he couldn't believe what he'd done.

But the damage was done.

Your lip quivered, your vision blurred with tears, and you let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. "You hit me, because I spoke the truth."

Jungkook's jaw tightened, guilt flickering in his eyes for just a second before it hardened back into cold fury.

"You don't know what you're saying," he muttered. "You don't understand anything."

Your knees felt weak, your chest aching as though your heart had been torn out, but you still lifted your chin, trembling yet defiant.

"No, I understand perfectly," you whispered. "You'll silence anyone who dares to speak against you. Even me." And with that, you turned away, clutching the letter like your last lifeline, tears spilling as the weight of betrayal pressed down on your chest.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Your cheek still burned from his hand, but the fire in your chest roared hotter than the sting on your skin. You staggered back, clutching the letter like it could shield you, and took one shaky step toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jungkook's voice cracked through the silence, low and venomous.

Your spine stiffened. You turned, eyes blazing with rage and desperation. "I'm going to the police," you hissed, your teeth gritted so hard your jaw ached. "I'll tell them everything. How could you sell someone sell Eva like she's nothing but an object?"

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a dark, humorless smile. Then came a low chuckle that sent a chill down your spine.

"You really think the police will help you?" he asked, each word dripping with mockery. "Darling, they work under me. Every single one of them. They don't give a fuck about you or that girl. To them, you're just my wife. And do you know what that means?"

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to glare at him, refusing to let your fear show.

He started walking toward you, unhurried, each step deliberate, heavy against the marble floor. The space between you shrank, his presence suffocating, his shadow stretching over you until it felt like the air itself bowed to him.

"It means," he continued, voice low, intimate, deadly, "that no matter what you say, no matter where you run, they'll bring you back to me. Because you belong to me, Y/n. And wives who go against their husbands..." His hand reached out, brushing your chin up with the back of his fingers, forcing you to meet his cold, dangerous gaze. "Face consequences."

You slapped his hand away, chest heaving, tears brimming but defiance burning just as fiercely. "I will never forgive you for what you've done."

He smirked, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Forgiveness isn't what I want from you."

Your heart pounded as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear, his words like chains tightening around your throat. "I want obedience."

"I don't care who you are, Jungkook. I don't care how much power you have. I won't stay silent. I'll fight you until my last breath." you say.

You turned sharply, storming toward the door, but you didn't even make it two steps before his hand clamped around your wrist like an iron shackle. He yanked you back with such force you stumbled into his chest. His eyes were no longer mocking they were cold, storming, dangerous.

"Enough," he snarled.

You shoved at him, pounding your fists against his chest, clawing at his arms, desperate to break free. "Let me go! You're a monster!" you screamed, voice cracking with fury.

His grip only tightened. "Stop it before you regret it."

But you didn't. You kicked, scratched, and pushed against him with everything you had, fueled by rage and the image of Eva's fate. And for the first time, you saw something snap in him. His jaw clenched, his face hardened, and before you could scream again, the back of his hand struck across your face, sending you sprawling against the floor.

The taste of blood filled your mouth. Your body trembled, but your heart still burned with defiance. You pushed yourself up, glaring at him through the blur of tears. "You can hit me, lock me, break me but I'll never stop hating you for what you've done."

Jungkook's nostrils flared. In two strides he was towering over you, grabbing your arm and dragging you across the polished floor as you screamed and struggled, your heels scraping uselessly.

"Let me go! Jungkook!"

He didn't answer. His silence was more terrifying than his rage. The sound of your cries echoed through the grand halls of the Jeon mansion as he hauled you upstairs, ignoring your kicks and sobs like they were nothing but noise.

When he reached your bedroom, he shoved you inside with such force you stumbled and nearly fell. The door slammed shut behind you, the click of the lock echoing like a death sentence.

You pounded against the door, fists bruising, throat raw from screaming. "You can't keep me in here! You can't!"

From the other side, his voice came calm, chilling. "I can. And I will. Until you learn, Y/n."

Your sobs broke into silence, the weight of his words pressing down like iron chains. For days that followed, the lock never opened. Meals were slid in without a word, the windows barred, and the only sound that reminded you of the world outside was the heavy footsteps of guards below.

Each night, you whispered Eva's and Duri's names like prayers into the darkness. Each day, Jungkook's shadow loomed in your mind his hand, his voice, his power crushing you slowly and he was waiting. Waiting for the moment you would stop fighting. Waiting for you to finally give up.

-----------------

The room stank of sweat and despair. The curtains had been nailed shut, the air stale, the silence deafening. You had lost count of the days your body weak from starvation, lips cracked, throat raw from screaming long ago. Now you barely had the strength to crawl to the corner where a small cup of water sometimes slid under the door, only to vanish again before you could finish it.

It had been weeks. No sunlight. No voices. No escape.

Your once fiery defiance had turned into fragile whispers in the dark. You had begged for food, for water, for freedom only to be answered with silence, only got food and water once or twice a week to keep you alive. The only company you had were your own thoughts and the gnawing ache of hunger hollowing you from the inside out.

The lock clicked.

Your head jerked weakly toward the door. For the first time in weeks, the handle turned, and the door creaked open. Jungkook stepped in, dressed immaculately, the smell of expensive cologne cutting through the stale air. He looked untouched, pristine, like the suffering you endured was nothing more than a minor inconvenience in his perfect life.

His gaze fell on you.

You were curled against the wall, hair matted, eyes sunken, hands trembling in your lap. But when you lifted your face, those eyes still carried that flicker of resistance, the same defiance he had locked away a month ago.

"Pathetic," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous. His shoes clicked against the marble floor as he walked toward you, every step echoing like a hammer to your chest. He crouched in front of you, tilting his head, studying your fragile state like a predator amused by a cornered prey.

"You've starved yourself. Screamed your throat raw. Cried until you couldn't anymore." His hand reached out, brushing your cheek almost tenderly, though his touch made your skin crawl. "And yet, you still glare at me like you can fight."

You flinched at his touch but refused to look away. Your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "I'll never forgive you for Eva. For Duri. For everything."

A smirk tugged at his lips, though his eyes stayed cold. "Forgiveness?" He chuckled darkly. "I don't need your forgiveness, Y/n. I need your obedience."

You shook your head weakly, tears threatening to spill. "I'll never obey you."

His hand shot out, gripping your jaw harshly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You already are. No matter how much you fight, you have nothing. No parents to protect you. No society that cares. The world looks away when I move my hand. And you know it."

Your body shook as the truth of his words slammed into you. He was right. Every scream you had let out had vanished into silence. No one had come. No one ever would.

The fight inside you wavered.

Jungkook saw it. His smirk widened, his thumb stroking your cracked lower lip as if claiming victory. "That glare won't save you, darling. It won't bring Eva back. It will only bring you more pain."

Your vision blurred, your chest aching as the last shred of hope began to slip away. For weeks, you had clung to your fury, your hatred, your need to fight. But now, all that was left was exhaustion.

Slowly, your trembling hands fell from fists into your lap. Your eyes, once burning, dimmed. You lowered your head in surrender, tears rolling silently down your cheeks.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, satisfied. "There. That's better." He released your jaw and stood, looking down at you as if you were nothing but his possession. "Remember this, Y/n. Fighting me is pointless. In this world, you have only me. No one else."

Your heart cracked as the last flame inside you died, swallowed by the walls of the Jeon mansion and for the first time since it all began, you didn't fight.

--------------------

The next morning, the door unlocked again. You jolted upright, the sound so foreign after weeks of silence that it sent a shiver down your spine. Your body trembled, frail from starvation, but your heart thudded painfully fast in your chest.

The door opened and there he was. Jungkook. Sharp suit, perfect hair, the air of control clinging to him like a second skin. He looked as if nothing had changed in the world, while you had been rotting inside these four walls.

He walked in slowly, his gaze sweeping over your weakened state. "Get up," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel.

You blinked at him, your throat dry, words barely forming. "Why?"

"I have an event tonight." His tone was casual, like he was speaking to a doll he was dressing up. "And you're coming with me."

For a second, you froze. The world outside. People. Crowds. Your mind raced with desperate thoughts maybe someone would notice, maybe you could slip away, maybe this was your chance. Hope, raw and reckless, burned faintly in your chest.

But Jungkook's dark eyes caught yours, as if he could read every thought spilling from your head. His lips curled into a humorless smile. "Don't."

You stiffened.

He stepped closer, crouching down so his face was level with yours, his cologne suffocating in the stale room. "Don't even think about pulling any stunts out there. Don't think about crying for help, running, whispering a word to anyone. Because if you do..." His hand reached out, fingers gripping your chin hard enough to hurt. His voice dropped, low and lethal. "you know what will happen. And this time, you won't be locked away for a month, Y/n. I'll make sure you never see daylight again."

Your breath hitched, your fragile hope trembling. You wanted to spit in his face, to scream, to claw your way out but your body betrayed you. You could barely stand, your limbs weak, your voice cracked.

He released your chin, standing tall, his tone cold and commanding. "Clean yourself up. Dress like the wife of Jeon Jungkook should. Not like this." His eyes lingered on your sunken face and tangled hair. "If you embarrass me, you'll regret it."

Your chest rose and fell unevenly, torn between fear and the desperate thought that maybe the world outside these walls could save you.

----------

The ballroom glittered under golden chandeliers, laughter and chatter filling the air. You stood beside Jungkook, his hand possessively resting at the small of your back. To the crowd, you were the picture-perfect couple his cold smile, your forced one. Inside, your heart hammered, every second ticking away like a countdown.

Your eyes darted around, scanning the guests. Then you froze. At the center of the room, surrounded by officials and business giants, stood President Park. The man everyone respected. The one person you thought might be untouchable, outside Jungkook's poisonous grasp.

For the first time in weeks, something sparked in you hope.

And then fate gave you a chance. Jungkook excused himself, slipping away to greet someone across the room. You swallowed hard, seizing the moment before fear could drag you back down. With shaky steps, you made your way to the president.

"Mr. President," you greeted with a polite bow, your voice soft but trembling.

He turned, smiling warmly. "Mrs. Jeon. An honor."

You leaned closer, desperate. "Please, may I speak to you privately?"

His brows rose slightly, but with a nod, he dismissed the others and guided you to a quieter corner, out of the crowd's sight.

The second you were alone, your mask cracked. Words tumbled from you, raw and frantic. "You need to help me. Jungkook, he's not what you think. He sold a girl from the orphanage he runs. Eva. She was sent to... to a man, like property. I don't even know how many girls he's used like this. Please. Please, I need your help to stop him."

Your eyes stung with tears, your chest heaving as you looked at the one man you believed could save you.

But instead of concern, a low sound escaped him. A chuckle.

You blinked. "W-what...?"

President Park's shoulders shook with laughter, his smile turning sharp, cruel. "Oh, Mrs. Jeon, you really thought you could run to me? That I'd go against him?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. "Jungkook isn't just powerful. He's essential. Do you have any idea how much influence he has? Do you think I'd risk all that for you?"

Your stomach dropped. The walls of the ballroom seemed to close in on you. Betrayal burned through your veins like fire.

And then, you felt it, a shadow looming behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Jungkook.

President Park's eyes flicked past you, meeting his, and his smile widened. "Take care of your wife, Jungkook. If she's this free, she might cause you problems." The president patted Jungkook's shoulder casually, like he hadn't just crushed the last shred of hope you'd clung to, before walking away to rejoin the crowd.

You stood frozen, tears threatening to fall, as Jungkook's hand gripped your arm. His smile was polite for the watching eyes, but his fingers dug into your skin like iron.

"Let's go, darling," he whispered, low enough for only you to hear. "We need to talk about what happens when you disobey me."

Your heart shattered. You'd been caged before, but this time, you knew, you weren't just trapped. You were surrounded.

Jungkook's grip on your arm was merciless, his fingers digging so deep you swore he wanted to bruise you in front of everyone. He leaned close, his voice venom wrapped in honey.

"You really don't learn, do you?" he whispered, twisting your wrist sharply until you gasped, forcing a smile on your face so no one in the glittering ballroom would notice. "If we weren't here, I'd already have you begging on your knees for this mistake."

Tears pricked your eyes, but you bit them back, terrified of giving him the satisfaction.

He didn't drag you home, though. Not yet. He had other business to handle, and you knew his reputation mattered too much to make a scene here. He pushed you down into a chair at the far edge of the hall, his dark gaze pinning you in place.

"Stay here," Jungkook ordered, bending low so his lips brushed your ear. "Don't test me again, Y/n. If you so much as move, if you so much as breathe wrong, I'll make sure Eva disappears forever. You'll never hear her name again."

Your chest tightened. The blood drained from your face. He knew exactly where to strike, your last thread of resistance.

You nodded weakly, your body trembling as his cold smirk curled at the corner of his lips. Satisfied, he left, striding across the room to greet another cluster of men in suits. The noise of the party felt distant now, drowned by the ringing in your ears. Fear wrapped around you, suffocating. You sat frozen in your seat, staring at the polished floor, not daring to move.

Minutes bled together before someone's shadow fell over you.

You lifted your head, expecting Jungkook. But it wasn't him. Park Jimin.

The president's son. His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed, yet his eyes lingered on you with a strange intensity.

You instantly looked away. The thought of another man tied to power, tied to Jungkook's world, made bile rise in your throat. Men like him didn't care about women like you. They never had.

"I heard everything." Your heart skipped. "I can help you." he says.

Slowly, you turned back, frowning as Jimin pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket. He leaned closer, careful not to draw attention, and slipped a folded piece of paper into your hand.

Confused, you glanced down. The paper was plain, only a few words scrawled across it in his handwriting.

You blinked, then stared at him, suspicion sharp in your chest. "Why?" you whispered, barely moving your lips. "You're his son. Why should I believe you?"

Jimin's lips quirked faintly, though his eyes stayed serious. "Because unlike my father, I don't think women's lives are toys to bargain with. Take your time. Think about it. But if you want out meet me here. Alone."

Your hands trembled around the paper. Hope flickered for the first time in so long, but so did dread.

Was this another trap? Another cruel game to break you?

Jimin straightened smoothly, his expression falling back into the calm, polished mask of a politician's heir. Without another word, he walked away, leaving you with the slip of paper clenched in your fist, your heart racing painfully in your chest. You didn't know if you'd just been handed salvation or another kind of cage.

-------------

The door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the grand but suffocating silence of the Jeon estate. Before you could even draw breath, Jungkook's hand cracked across your face. The force sent you sprawling to the cold marble floor of the hall, the sharp sting burning your skin as tears welled in your eyes.

The maids froze where they stood, their hands trembling at their sides. They had seen this before, countless times. But none of them moved. None of them dared. Their eyes slid away, their silence louder than screams. Why would they risk their lives when Jungkook was untouchable?

You clutched the floor, trying to push yourself up, but his shadow loomed over you. His voice was low and vicious, cutting through the still air.

"You really think running to Park will save you?" he hissed. "Do you want the truth, Y/n? That man, the president you begged for help he's the one who gave the orders. He's the one who told me to sell those children. The orphans no one wants. Who would miss them?"

Your breath hitched, the words crashing over you like ice. The cruel gleam in his eyes told you it didn't matter whether it was true or not.

He fisted his hand in your hair, yanking your head back so hard a cry escaped your lips. Pain shot across your scalp, and your nails scraped against the polished floor as he forced you upright.

"Still want to fight me?" Jungkook spat, dragging you down the hall. Your feet stumbled to keep up, your scalp screaming with every step until he shoved you into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you.

You barely had a moment to breathe before his hand clamped around your throat. His grip was merciless, cutting off your air as he pinned you against the wall. You clawed at his wrist, choking, your chest burning as your vision blurred at the edges.

"Do you see where your defiance leads?" he growled, tightening his grip until your knees buckled. "You are nothing without me. Nothing."

Just when you thought you would black out, he released you. You collapsed onto the bed, coughing and gasping, your body shaking violently. But you had no chance to recover. Jungkook was already there, towering above you, his gaze feral.

He hovered over your body, trapping you beneath his weight. His mouth crashed against yours in a brutal, punishing kiss that stole what little breath you had left. His teeth grazed harshly over your lips, then his mouth moved to your throat, biting down until you yelped in pain.

Your hands pushed weakly at his chest, but he caught your wrists with ease, pinning them against the mattress. His smirk was cruel, his eyes dark with possession.

------------

The last thing you remembered was his weight crushing you into the mattress, his hand around your throat, his teeth on your skin. Then darkness swallowed you whole.

When your eyes fluttered open again, the room was dim. The curtains had been drawn, and the chandelier above swayed faintly, as if mocking your weakness. Your head throbbed with a punishing ache, every pulse behind your eyes reminding you of what had just happened. You tried to move, but your body felt heavy, bruised, and battered.

The faint echo of the door slamming earlier told you he had left. He hadn't even finished what he set out to do. Jungkook had looked down at your limp body and scoffed, muttering something cruel before walking out. "Pathetic. I didn't even start yet."

You pushed yourself upright with trembling arms, your throat burning with every breath. His words replayed in your head, the venom dripping from his voice. But it wasn't only Jungkook's cruelty haunting you it was what he had revealed.

The president.

The man you had begged for help. The one who smiled in the spotlight as if he was the protector of the people. Jungkook said it was him who ordered the children to be sold. The orphans no one would claim, discarded like broken toys.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, bile rising in your throat. If it was true, then you had run straight into the arms of the man behind it all. How do you seek help from the very monster who feeds the fire?

But then your gaze drifted to the nightstand.

A folded slip of paper lay there, the one Jimin had slipped into your hand when Jungkook wasn't looking. The words were etched into your memory: "Meet me. I can help."

You clenched it tightly now, staring at the address scribbled in his hurried handwriting. Jimin, the president's son. The blood that tied him to the man Jungkook claimed was at the center of all this corruption. Every instinct screamed not to trust him. He was still his son. How could he not be like him?

Yet, when Jimin had looked at you earlier, there had been something different in his eyes. Not the cold, dismissive gaze of a man who saw women as nothing. Not the mocking smirk that Jungkook carried when he cornered you. There had been a flicker of sincerity, almost desperation.

Your thoughts tangled in knots. Could he really mean what he said? Could he actually help? Or was this another trap, another cruel game that would end with you even more broken than you already were?

You dragged your knees to your chest, your breath shaking. No man could be trusted. Not after everything you'd endured. Not after Jungkook. Not after the president. Every path you chose seemed to lead you deeper into a cage.

And yet, the paper burned in your palm, whispering of a possibility. A dangerous possibility, but one you couldn't ignore.

You had no allies. No escape, no power. But Jimin, something in you wanted to believe that he was different. Even if your gut screamed not to.

You leaned back against the wall, staring at the paper as if it were your only lifeline. What if this is my last chance?

-----------------

Weeks had crawled by like a slow, endless nightmare. Every bruise, every slap, every cruel word from Jungkook had weighed on you until your spirit felt crushed into dust. You had learned the only way to survive was obedience. Lowering your gaze, bowing your head, moving when commanded.

And it worked. He grew careless. Believing you had been tamed, he allowed you small freedoms. Always under guard, always with watchful eyes nearby, but still outside.

That was how you planned it. That was how you found your chance.

When Sunday came, you whispered that you wished to go to church. You wanted to pray, to repent. His lips curled into a cruel smirk, mocking your sudden show of piety, but he waved his hand for the men. "Take her. Don't let her stray."

The carriage wheels rattled along cobblestone streets. You sat rigid, the heavy velvet of your dress weighing down your lap, Jungkook's guard beside you with a hand resting near the hilt of his sword. At last, the church came into view an old stone building with tall windows and a narrow spire pointing into the gray sky.

Inside, the air was cool and still. Beeswax candles flickered in iron holders, their dim glow spilling across the worn pews. You knelt, hands clasped, head bowed. You whispered a prayer, not to heaven but to Jimin. That his words on the folded paper had not been lies.

But the church was silent. Empty, save for a few bowed heads of strangers you did not know.

When you finally rose to leave, disappointment dragged at your steps. Perhaps you had been foolish to believe in him. Perhaps there would never be a way out.

You descended the steps slowly, Jungkook's guard shadowing you close. The street was quiet, save for the sound of a passing horse-drawn cart. Then, sudden movement.

Men burst from the alleyway, their coats long and dark, faces shadowed by their hats. Steel flashed as blades were drawn. Jungkook's guard reacted instantly, pulling his own weapon, the sound of metal striking metal ringing through the air. The fight was brutal. A cry tore through the street as one of Jungkook's men fell, blood spreading across the cobbles. Another clutched his side and collapsed beside him.

Your breath caught. Fear froze your limbs as chaos raged before you.

Then, rough fingers closed around your wrist. You spun, startled, only for a strong arm to pull you flush against a chest. You tried to scream, but a gloved hand pressed tightly over your mouth. The sharp scent of leather and something bitter filled your nose.

You thrashed, kicking, clawing, your muffled cries lost in the clash of steel and shouts of men. But your body weakened. A heavy fog pressed down on your thoughts, blurring the world at the edges.

The last thing you saw before your knees gave way was the church doors still open, candlelight spilling weakly into the night.

---------

The news struck Jungkook like a blade to the chest.

His men stumbled into the grand hall, bloodied and trembling, their heads bowed low as they delivered the words he never expected to hear. "She the Lady has been taken."

The glass of brandy slipped from his hand and shattered across the marble, the dark liquid bleeding into the cracks. For a moment, silence. Then the fury rose violent, uncontainable. He slammed his fist against the mahogany table, sending papers scattering to the floor.

"Who dares?" His voice roared through the hall, echoing like thunder. The maids froze in place, eyes lowered, bodies stiff. None dared to breathe too loud. His fury was legendary, and now it burned brighter than ever. He raked his fingers through his hair, wild-eyed, pacing the length of the room. "Find her. Tear this city apart if you must. I want her back before the sun sets,"

The mansion trembled under his rage.

----

On the other side of the city, you stirred.

The first thing you noticed was the smell not polished oak and perfumed halls like Jungkook's home, but wood smoke, damp cloth, and earth. The second was the surface beneath you. Rough wool blankets scratched your skin, nothing like the silk sheets you were used to.

You blinked against the heavy dizziness clouding your vision. The ceiling above you was low, wooden beams darkened by age. A small oil lamp flickered in the corner, casting shadows that crept across the walls. The space was narrow, plain, suffocating in its simplicity.

Then it struck you.

You weren't in Jungkook's mansion. You weren't anywhere near safety. You had been taken.

Panic flared in your chest. You tried to sit up too quickly, the room spinning as you clutched the edge of the bed for balance. Your heart pounded against your ribs.

The door creaked open.

You flinched, pulling the blanket closer to your body as a figure stepped inside. His face was lit by the glow of the oil lamp. Jimin.

He paused, as though gauging whether you would scream. Then he sighed, lowering his gaze for a moment before meeting your eyes. His voice was soft, but there was a weight to it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, almost like a confession. "This is not how I wanted us to meet."

You stared, your pulse racing, your throat tight with a thousand questions you couldn't form.

"I know what Jungkook is," he continued, stepping closer, careful with each move as though approaching a wild bird ready to flee. "If I had tried to reach you in his watch, you would never have been allowed near me. He would've locked you away tighter than before." His jaw clenched, his hands curling at his sides. "So I had no choice but to take you."

The words hung in the air, heavy, unbelievable.

You pressed your back against the wooden headboard, your voice hoarse as you whispered, "You kidnapped me."

Jimin flinched at the word but did not deny it. Instead, he lowered himself into the chair by the bedside, his eyes steady on yours. "Yes. Because it's the only way I could protect you from him."

The oil lamp flickered, shadows dancing across his face. You could not tell if he was savior or captor, only that your world had shifted and Jungkook's wrath would not stay silent for long.

Jimin sat across from you, his posture composed yet weary, the kind of weariness that belonged to men who carried knowledge too heavy for their years.

He folded his hands together on his knee, his gaze steady. "Do you know what has been happening, quietly, behind the walls of those factories and grand houses?" His voice was low, almost reverent, like a priest confessing sins not his own. "Boys no older than fifteen, girls barely into womanhood... sold. Sold as though their blood and breath were nothing but coin."

Your breath hitched. His eyes flicked to you, sharp and solemn.

"They are taken to factories where their hands bleed against steel machines until they collapse from exhaustion. And worse still... to the brothels. Rich men, officials, aristocrats they choose them like livestock. They use them until the soul leaves their eyes." His tone hardened, teeth clenched around the words. "This has been happening for years, under my father's government. Under his rule. And Jungkook, too" He paused, hatred flashing in his gaze. "He profits from it."

You swallowed, the sickness rising in your chest almost unbearable. The image of young girls and boys, robbed of freedom, flickered before your eyes.

Jimin leaned forward, his voice urgent. "I need your help. I cannot fight this war alone. You have been in his house, closer to him than any of us could ever dream. Tell me..." His breath faltered, but he pushed on, "Do you have proof? Anything that ties him to these crimes?"

Your hands trembled in your lap. For a moment you hesitated, but then you gave the smallest nod. His eyes widened.

"A letter," you whispered. "I kept it with me always. Jungkook never asked for it back, nor did he know where it was hidden."

Jimin's body stilled. "You brought it?"

"Yes," you answered, your voice shaking with a strange mixture of pride and dread. "I hid it, here."

Your fingers went to your bodice, to the hidden place beneath the stiff corset where you had tucked the folded parchment against your skin. Without thinking, with only the desperation of the moment guiding you, you reached inside and drew it out, the paper warm from your body.

But then you froze.

The rustle of movement reminded you, there was another man in the room. He sat in the shadows near the door, a silent guard, his presence so still that you had nearly forgotten him. His eyes, you realized, were on you.

Heat rushed to your face as the weight of your action sank in. Your breath caught, and you lowered your gaze, clutching the letter tightly to your chest as though it could shield you from the humiliation.

Jimin, too, had averted his eyes the instant he realized. He turned his face away, his jaw tight, as though even to glimpse your shame would be dishonorable. His voice, when it came, was careful, formal. "You need not, trouble yourself further. Please, just hand it to me."

You lowered your trembling hand and extended the letter toward him. He accepted it with both hands, as if it were a sacred relic, his fingers brushing against the fragile parchment. For a moment he simply stared at it, as though holding the weight of every lost child, every stolen life, every secret hidden in his father's empire.

And you sat back against the hard wooden headboard, heart still racing, face still burning, realizing how deeply you had already stepped into a war far darker than your own captivity.

Jimin stepped toward the desk, his movements slow, almost reverent. He pulled out the wooden box, his fingers hesitating only for a moment before sifting through the scattered papers and aged letters. When his hand closed around the one he'd been searching for, he held it tightly, his thumb tracing the crease like he was trying to smooth out not just the parchment but the memories buried within it. A sharp breath cut through the silence. Then, with a voice low and deliberate, he finally spoke.

"This date," he murmured, pointing to the ink-stained corner. "Here March 17th, 1902. Everything written by her hand everything she collected it will be of great use."

You blinked, confusion stirring. "She?"

Jimin's eyes lifted to you, clouded with something between grief and rage. "The one who wrote this. Mina."

The name meant nothing to you. Your brows knit together. "Mina? Who was she?"

For a moment he did not answer, his jaw tightening as though he debated whether the truth should fall on your ears. But then he sighed, weary. "She was his wife. Before you."

Your blood ran cold. "His wife?"

"Yes." Jimin's tone was clipped, heavy. "She was from the Kim family. A union of power and wealth. At first, Jungkook charmed her, as he charms everyone. But Mina was not blind." He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a grave whisper. "When she discovered what he was doing selling boys and girls, profiting from their suffering she fought back. She began gathering documents, letters, names of officials who dealt with him. She prepared to take it before the court."

Your hand instinctively pressed to your mouth, horror washing through you.

Jimin's expression darkened further, his grip on the letter tightening until the edges crumpled slightly. "But the case never reached the judge's hand. Because she was silenced. Killed."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Killed?" The word barely left your lips.

His eyes found yours, unwavering, merciless in their truth. "Yes. By him. By Jungkook. Her own husband."

The room seemed to tilt around you. For a moment you forgot how to breathe. The walls pressed close, the air felt thick, suffocating. You thought of Jungkook's touch, his words, the way he'd looked at you with something that mimicked affection—and beneath it all, there lurked this truth.

"He killed her?" Your voice broke, thin and trembling.

Jimin's eyes softened, though his words were steel. "Mina trusted him once, as you do now. And she paid with her life."

You sat back against the wooden frame of the bed, your body weak, mind spinning. Every memory with Jungkook clawed at you, suddenly painted with a new, terrifying color. The man who bound you to him, who whispered of loyalty and obedience was the same man who had murdered the woman before you.

Jimin folded the letter with care, his voice resolute as he slid it into his coat. "Her fight did not die with her. Mina's evidence lives on. And now, with your help, it can end what she began."

But you barely heard him. Your ears rang with one thought only. Jungkook killed his wife.

-------

You sat in stunned silence, your hands trembling in your lap. Jimin's words still lingered in the room, heavy as lead. Jungkook had killed before. His own wife. The thought gnawed at you until you felt your stomach twist.

Jimin rose from the chair and crossed the small wooden room, his boots creaking against the old floorboards. He set the folded letter on the table beside a lantern, then turned back to you. His voice softened, though it carried the firmness of someone who had thought long about this.

"You don't have to return to him," he said quietly. "Not now. Not ever, if you choose."

Your head lifted, eyes wide. "What?"

"You could stay here." He gestured faintly around the modest house. The walls were plain, the furniture worn but sturdy. A pot sat over a small hearth, faint embers still glowing beneath it. "It isn't grand like Jungkook's halls, but it is safe. No one knows of this place. You'll have food, warmth, a roof. Everything you need."

You swallowed, staring at him, unsure if you should believe such a promise.

Jimin's gaze softened further, almost pleading. "Here, you are not his wife. You are not bound to his leash. You are only yourself. And no one will dare drag you away."

Your breath caught, the thought so foreign you could hardly imagine it. No Jungkook watching your every step, no iron grip on your arm, no threats whispered in the dark. Just space. Quiet. A place to breathe.

"I'll visit you tomorrow," Jimin continued, adjusting his coat. "We will talk more then. You need rest. After all you've endured, you should not make decisions with a weary mind."

You sat there, torn between terror and fragile hope. The flicker of the lantern cast shadows across his face as he opened the door, letting in a draft of cool night air. Before stepping out, he gave you one last look steady, earnest.

"You are safe here," he repeated. "Safer than you've ever been."

And then the door shut, leaving you alone in the small, unfamiliar house. The silence was thick, but unlike Jungkook's silence, it did not strangle you. Still, your heart thundered, torn between the prison you'd fled and the uncertain refuge you'd stumbled into.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

That first night in the small house was restless. You lay on the coarse wool blanket, staring up at the wooden beams above. The quiet was deafening. No heavy footsteps echoing down long marble corridors, no locks sliding into place. For the first time in years you weren't under Jungkook's roof. Yet the weight of his shadow pressed into your chest, suffocating your sleep. Every creak of the house made you jolt awake, convinced his men had tracked you here.

When morning came, pale light spilled through the small window, dust dancing in the beams. You sat at the table, cradling a chipped cup of tea, trying to calm the storm in your chest. Hours later, the door opened, and Jimin stepped inside. His coat was damp from the rain, his expression worn but focused.

"I didn't mean to alarm you," he said, closing the door carefully. "But I have news."

Your stomach tightened. "What kind of news?"

He set a stack of notes and folded papers on the table, his fingers lingering on them. His eyes met yours, steady and grave. "Eva. I've been searching since you gave me the letter. I visited the orphan to know about Eva . She's alive."

You nearly dropped the cup in your hands. "Alive?"

Jimin nodded, though his jaw clenched. "But she is not where she should be. She's been forced into one of the brothels, one of the very houses funded by my father's men. The same houses Jungkook supplies with the girls they buy and sell like cattle."

Your breath caught. The thought of Eva sweet, frightened Eva trapped in such a place sent a chill through you. "No..." you whispered, covering your mouth with trembling hands.

Jimin leaned closer, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves might betray him. "I have a plan. We cannot simply storm the place; it's too well-guarded, too many eyes watching. But if I can secure the help of the workers inside, the ones who despise what's happening but fear for their lives, then we can create a distraction. Enough for us to slip Eva out before anyone realizes."

Your heart pounded. It sounded impossible, dangerous yet in Jimin's voice, there was steel. He had thought it through.

"You risk too much," you said softly. "If your father knew, if Jungkook knew-"

"They already know what I am," Jimin cut in, a bitter smile flickering on his lips. "A traitor in their eyes. Nothing I do will change that. But Eva deserves freedom, and you deserve to see her safe. That is reason enough."

You stared at him, words caught in your throat. After years of being bound in silence and fear, the idea that someone was willing to fight for you, for Eva, left you unmoored.

Jimin reached for the lantern, lighting it with steady hands. Shadows stretched across the walls as the flame flickered to life. "Rest tonight," he said. "Tomorrow, I'll bring more details. Each step must be measured, or we'll lose everything. But believe me" His gaze locked with yours, unwavering. "We will not leave her there."

As he left, the door creaking shut behind him, you sat frozen at the table. The words rang in your head like a promise carved into stone. For the first time since your world had crumbled, a fragile ember of hope glowed within you.

-------

The hour was late when Jimin spoke of his plan. The oil lamp between you sputtered faintly, throwing long shadows upon the narrow walls of the cottage. His manner was grave, his eyes set as though he had already walked through the dangers he now asked you to face.

"There is no other course," he said, his voice low, the cadence deliberate. "Should I send men, they will be cut down at the threshold. Should I appear myself, I would be known at once. Yet you, you may enter as one unseen. A shadow amidst shadows."

Your breath stilled. "You mean for me to go there?"

He inclined his head solemnly. "One of my men will deliver you. He shall speak for you, tell them you are newly taken into trade. They will not question it. Once within, you may search freely. If Eva is to be found, it will be by your hand."

You faltered, your thoughts turning to the place you had only heard of in whispers, the red lantern house where girls were bought and lost. To step inside was to step into degradation itself. Yet when Eva's name returned to you, when you remembered her youth and the despair in her eyes, you knew hesitation could not be allowed.

"If it is the only way," you murmured, "then I shall go."

Jimin regarded you a long moment. For once his composure softened, and his voice bore something akin to tenderness. "If by dawn you do not return, my man will raise alarm. Until then, you must fend for yourself. Pray, take courage."

The following night, you walked the narrow streets under his escort. The rain had left the stones slick, and the air smelled of coal smoke and damp earth. At length you came upon the house. Red lanterns swayed at its eaves, casting their lurid glow upon the cobbles. From within issued the sound of music thin and mocking and the brittle laughter of men.

At the door, Jimin's man gripped your arm roughly, playing his part. "I bring you fresh stock," he said to the guard, his voice coarse, his manner uncaring. "Fit for a fair price."

The guard's eyes swept over you with a cruel disinterest. He gave a short laugh, then swung the door open. You were thrust inside; the door clanged shut like a prison gate.

The air was close, thick with smoke and cheap perfume. In the flickering lamplight you saw women painted and weary, their laughter ringing hollow as they leaned against the laps of men in velvet coats. The walls bore stains of time and neglect; the floor creaked beneath every step.

They herded you to a narrow chamber, its walls bare, its floor strewn with straw. Here they kept the new arrivals, like livestock penned before the market. Dread pressed upon your chest, for you had seen no sign of Eva, only the faces of strangers, each more broken than the last.

Presently the door opened, and a woman slipped inside. Her hair was matted, her gown torn at the hem, and her face bore the exhaustion of many hard nights. She studied you with eyes dull from sorrow, yet not without a glimmer of something keen and knowing.

For a moment she said nothing. Then, in a voice hushed and coarse from disuse, she whispered, "You are not as the others. You do not belong to this place."

Your heart leapt, but you dared not reveal yourself too quickly. "And if I do not?" you asked softly.

Her mouth curves into something that is neither a smile nor a sneer. "Then you must be here for the one they keep hidden. The girl they do not allow in the hall." She steps closer. "She waits in chains. If you mean to find her, you cannot linger."

Before you can speak, the sound of footsteps rattles the floorboards. The woman's eyes flick toward the door, then she presses a finger to her lips.

The door bursts open, two men swaggering inside, their gaze falling instantly on you. One grins, reaching for your wrist. "A fresh flower," he drawls. "Best taste her before the master claims her."

Your body stiffens with panic. You're cornered.

But the woman steps between you and them, her voice suddenly laced with iron. "She is not for you. She is promised to a high bidder. Touch her and you'll answer for it."

The men scoff, shoving at her shoulder. "And what are you to command us, wench?"

She does not flinch. "Try me. And when they find your corpses in the gutter, no one will mourn."

The menace in her tone unsettles even them. After a tense moment, they curse and retreat, slamming the door behind them.

You exhale a shaky breath, your heart hammering. She turns to you swiftly. "Come. Now. Before they gather their courage to return."

You follow her down twisting corridors, past velvet curtains and drunken laughter, the air growing heavier with each step. At last she leads you down a crooked stair, stopping before a locked wooden door. From her gown, she produces a small iron key.

"Do not ask how I came by this," she mutters. "Only know that the one you seek is here."

The lock clicks open, and when the door creaks aside, you see her Eva. Her wrists are bruised, her face pale, her eyes widening in disbelief the moment she sees you.

"Y/n..." Her voice is hoarse, but the sound of it nearly breaks you. "Is it truly you?"

You rush forward, gathering her trembling body into your arms. Relief burns in your throat, though fear gnaws at your chest.

Behind you, the woman lingers in shadow. Her eyes gleam faintly in the lamplight. "Take her. My part is done."

You turn, clutching Eva tight. "Why? Why would you help us?"

She tilts her head. "Because the man you trust asked it of me. Jimin. He sent me to guide you."

Before you can question her, she fades back into the darkness, leaving you with Eva in your arms and the echo of footsteps returning above.

------------

You clutch Eva's hand tightly, her frail body trembling against you as if she's afraid the moment she lets go, she'll vanish back into the shadows. The halls are louder now, footsteps echoing, voices rising. They know.

You remember Jimin's words. The third floor. Reach the farthest corner, and you will find the hidden way out.

You turn sharply to the woman, your voice low, urgent. "The third floor. Can you take us there?"

Her eyes glint in the half-light. "A perilous path, but it can be done. Stay close, and do not falter."

You move quickly, weaving through narrow corridors, past rooms heavy with laughter and muffled sobs. The wooden stairs groan as you climb, your heart slamming against your ribs. Halfway up, a shout breaks behind you.

"There! Stop them!"

Men surge forward, their boots pounding the floorboards.

"Run!" you hiss, dragging Eva higher. The woman leads the way, skirts gathered in her fists, her pace impossibly swift for someone who has lived in chains. The men grow closer, their rough laughter echoing as they chase, their hands reaching.

The door rattles harder, splinters cracking beneath fists that demand to break through. The woman crosses the room swiftly, dragging a trunk away from the wall. Behind it, a small window barely large enough to slip through. A rope dangles, knotted and frayed, tied to the iron grate above.

"This is the way," she whispers. "Quickly, before they come."

You push Eva forward. Her hands shake as she grips the rope, but her determination outweighs her fear. You press your palm against her back. "Go, Eva. I'll be right behind you."

But Eva jerks her hand from yours, her chest heaving. "No," she says, her voice cracking with pain. "I cannot leave. Not when so many others remain here. If I go, what of them? Who will care for them?"

You turn on her, shaking your head fiercely. "Eva, listen to me. If you die here, no one will be saved. You must come with me. You must live, so we can set the others free. Jimin will help. But only if you escape first."

Tears stream down her face, her lips trembling. "What if it is too late for them?"

You grip her shoulders, your voice sharp with desperation. "Then it is not too late for you. And if you come with me, I swear I will not rest until the others are freed. But you must trust me now."

She nods, swinging her body out of the window. The rope creaks under her weight, her legs kicking against the wall as she lowers herself inch by inch. You watch until her small frame disappears into the shadows below.

Turning back, you face the woman. Her hair falls in tangled strands, her eyes dark yet calm, as though she has already accepted her place here. You swallow hard. "I will come back for the others. I promise you that."

For the first time, her lips curve into a faint smile, tired but genuine. She nods slowly. "Then go, before your promise is stolen."

You climb out, gripping the rope tightly. The coarse fibers bite into your palms as you descend, your breath caught between your teeth. The shouts grow louder behind you the men have broken through. The rope sways as you lower yourself swiftly, your feet hitting the ground with a thud.

Eva is only a few meters away, crouched low, waiting. Together, you sprint across the courtyard, your skirts gathering dust, your heart pounding against your ribs. Ahead looms the wall tall, jagged, cruelly high.

"We cannot climb this," Eva whispers, despair heavy in her voice.

"Yes, we can," you insist. Kneeling, you lace your fingers together, offering her a foothold. "Step here. I'll lift you."

She hesitates, then places her foot in your hands. With all your strength, you hoist her upward. She scrambles, fingers clutching the edge of the wall until finally, with a desperate push, she swings herself over.

You jump, reaching for the wall, your fingers barely scraping the stone. You try again, nails clawing against its rough surface. That's when you hear it the guttural shout behind you.

"There! Catch her!"

Boots slam against the dirt, men pouring into the courtyard. Torches flare, shadows stretching toward you. You glance up. Eva is on the other side now, looking down at you with wide, terrified eyes.

"Run!" you scream, your voice breaking as you make another attempt to climb. But the pounding of footsteps grows closer, their heat pressing against your back.

You run. The courtyard feels endless, every step weighed down by fear and dust clinging to your skirts. Your lungs burn, each breath rasping in your throat. Behind you, the men's shouts grow louder, boots pounding against the earth.

The wall is too far now. Eva is gone, free, but your legs buckle. You stumble over a loose stone, the ground rushing up to meet you. You hit the dirt hard, palms scraping raw. Pain shoots up your knees, and before you can gather your breath, shadows loom over you.

You lift your head. A ring of boots surrounds you, torches flaring above. Their sneers cut sharper than their knives, voices dripping with hunger.

"Got you now."

"Thought you could escape, eh?"

Your heart slams against your chest as one steps forward, reaching down, his fingers ready to clutch your arm.

Then, another sound cuts through the air. A voice. Deep, commanding.

"Enough."

The men freeze. Their boots shuffle uneasily. Slowly, you tilt your head upward.

A hand appears in front of you, strong and certain. You hesitate, then glance up at the face above it. The sight nearly rips the breath from your lungs.

"J-Jungkook...?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

He stands there, tall against the flickering light, his black coat brushing the dirt as though even the dust dares not touch him. His eyes sharp, dark, unyielding lock onto yours. For a moment, you see fury in them, and something else beneath it, something that makes your stomach twist.

"Get up," he says simply.

Almost in a daze, you place your hand in his. His grip is unyielding, pulling you to your feet as though you weigh nothing.

The men shift, confused, glancing between one another. One dares to step forward, his voice uncertain. "Sir, this woman-"

"She is mine."

Jungkook's words cut like steel. His tone leaves no room for doubt, no room for breath. It is not a declaration, it is a decree.

The men back away at once, their faces paling, their heads bowing. Not a single one questions him. They scatter, leaving the torches swaying in their absence, leaving you standing at his side with the world collapsing into silence.

You stare at him, your heart thundering so violently it hurts. The disbelief in your chest wars with the dread in your veins. You had never expected this not here, not now. Not him.

---------

The night air is damp as Jungkook's carriage rattles through the cobblestone streets. You sit pressed against the far corner of the seat, your hands folded tightly in your lap, fingers aching from how hard you clutch them. The silence inside is suffocating, broken only by the groan of the wheels and the soft clop of hooves outside.

Across from you, Jungkook leans back in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the cushion as though he were returning from a pleasant evening not from dragging you away from a den of filth and danger. His gaze never leaves you. It weighs on your skin heavier than the velvet of your dress, sharper than any blade.

"You have a great deal to explain," he says finally, his voice low, unhurried.

You turn your face away, staring at the window where the gas lamps blur into streaks of yellow. Your lips press into a thin line. If you speak, your heart might betray you.

The carriage jolts over a stone. He doesn't repeat himself, but his silence is louder than words. You can feel his patience thinning, coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

At last, his eyes narrow. "How did you find yourself in such a place? A brothel. Do you expect me to believe it was by chance?"

You swallow hard. Your throat burns, but the words refuse to come. To tell him the truth would mean revealing too much. To lie would be worse, he would see through you at once. So you sit in silence, your lashes lowered.

And then, unable to bear his interrogation, you speak. "What about you?" Your voice trembles, but you force the question. "What were you doing there, Jungkook?"

For the first time, his expression shifts. His lips curve not into a smile, but into something colder, a shadow of amusement that chills your blood.

"Do not," he says, leaning forward slightly, "turn questions upon me."

The words slice through the carriage, final and immovable. His eyes gleam in the lantern light, a warning wrapped in calm.

"You will answer mine. And only mine."

The rest of the ride is swallowed in silence again. The kind that suffocates, heavy enough to press against your chest. Neither of you speak until the carriage pulls to a halt before the grand iron gates of the Jeon estate. You breathe in, steadying yourself. You know the questioning has only begun.

"Now," he says at last, his tone smooth but threaded with steel. "You will tell me who it was."

Your brows furrow. "Who... what do you mean?"

"The one who kidnapped you." He steps closer. "Who dared to take you, and place you in that filth? Tell me."

The room feels smaller with each word. Your lips part, but no sound comes. You stare at the fire instead, watching it flicker weakly as though it, too, were struggling to survive.

Jungkook studies you for a long moment. When your silence stretches on, his jaw tightens, and he exhales slowly through his nose.

"I see," he murmurs, his voice dipping low, almost thoughtful. "You will not speak. That means only one thing, whoever did this is not a stranger. You know."

Your heart lurches, but you remain silent. If you deny, he will not believe. If you admit, you endanger too much.

His eyes narrow, and he tilts his head slightly, as though piecing together a puzzle in his mind. "Then it must be one of mine." His voice hardens. "An enemy. A rival who wished to provoke me by taking you. That brothel was not a coincidence. No... it was deliberate."

You grip your skirt tighter, your nails biting into the fabric. He mistakes your silence for agreement, or perhaps for fear, but either way he continues.

"Do you not see, Y/n? They wished me to suffer. To imagine you in that place. To imagine what could have been done to you." His voice drops, sharp as a blade, and he leans close enough that you feel the chill of his breath. "They will regret it."

He straightens, his coat rustling softly as he moves back a step. His expression is unreadable now, but his eyes burn with quiet rage.

"You may refuse to tell me," he says, tone clipped, "but I will find them myself. And when I do no wall, no law, no prayer will protect them."

The words hang heavy in the room. You keep your silence, even as your chest tightens. Better he believes it the work of his rivals, than uncover the truth you guard so closely.

You sit in silence, his words still echoing like the toll of a distant bell. His rage is simmering, his thoughts fixed on enemies you never named, while you remain the silent architect of a truth he does not know.

But within you, a strange calm takes root. Eva is safe now. You can almost see her face, pale and frightened, pressed into Jimin's care as he leads her far away from the stench and cruelty of that house. That image steadies you, eases the weight pressing down on your ribs. One life pulled from hell, one victory wrestled from the dark.

And yet, across from you stands the man who ruined so many others. The man who believes himself untouchable, whose voice commands, whose power bends the city. He thinks you are fragile, that your silence means submission, that his control remains unshaken.

If only he knew.

You lower your gaze, hiding the flicker in your eyes. Outwardly, you are the picture of obedience: still, bowed, delicate. But inside, your heart whispers different vows. You want to watch the mighty Jeon Jungkook stumble. You want to see the mask of control shatter, to see him stripped of the certainty that clings to every word he speaks.

He circles you like a shadow, his boots tapping against the polished floor. "Do not think this is over," he says, tone sharp. "I will not rest until I know who dared touch what is mine."

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop the smile that threatens. Let him rage. Let him hunt ghosts. Every step he takes toward vengeance will drag him closer to the pit you long to see him fall into. Tonight, you remain silent. Tomorrow, the game will continue.

--------

The heavy knock on the great oak doors echoes through the halls like a gunshot. You startle, nearly spilling the tea in your hands. Servants rush, their faces pale, whispering among themselves as the pounding grows louder, insistent, demanding.

At last the butler opens the door. A gust of cold air sweeps in, carrying with it the sight of uniformed men police officers, their brass buttons gleaming under the gray light of dawn. At their front stands the captain, his leather gloves tucked beneath one arm, a folded paper in his hand.

"We are here on official duty," the captain announces, his voice cutting through the quiet of the household. "We have a warrant for the arrest of Mr. Jeon Jungkook."

You feel the breath leave your chest. The words seem to hang suspended in the air. The servants exchange terrified glances.

The butler stiffens. "On what grounds do you dare-?"

The captain snaps open the paper, his eyes cold. "On grounds of illicit trade. Smuggling narcotics, bribery of officials, unlawful dealings in foreign substances. The evidence has been reviewed and sanctioned by the magistrate's office. Signed under the authority of the Kim's"

Gasps ripple through the room.

At that moment Jungkook appears at the top of the stairs, his dark coat hanging loosely from his shoulders. His face betrays no surprise, only a cool, measured stare. He descends slowly, each step echoing against the marble, until he stands before them like a man greeting guests rather than accusers.

"You dare bring such noise into my home at this hour," he says, voice smooth as steel.

"Jeon Jungkook," the captain replies, unflinching, "you are under arrest. You will come with us at once."

One of the officers steps forward with chains, but Jungkook lifts a hand, halting him. His eyes, black and sharp, flick to you for the briefest moment. There is no fear in them, only the faintest trace of something dangerous something you cannot name.

Then he offers his wrists. "Do not soil my carpets with your boots," he murmurs, almost mockingly, "I'll walk myself."

The officers bind him. The iron clasps shut with a metallic click that seems to shudder through the entire house.

You stand frozen, your heart a storm. The great Jeon Jungkook led away in chains, his empire shaken. And though silence drapes the room, inside you burns a quiet, fierce pride.

Jungkook does not bow his head. He walks with the same effortless grace as ever, shoulders straight, his jaw set in defiance. Even bound, he seems untouchable, like a man who believes he will never truly fall. For a fleeting second, his gaze cuts to you again, heavy and unreadable. The weight of it presses against your chest, but you do not look away.

The officers guide him toward the door. The captain's voice is crisp as he orders, "Bring him to the magistrate. The charges will be heard this evening."

The household is silent except for the echo of their departure.

As the doors slam shut, you let out the breath you had been holding. Relief sweeps through you in waves, though you dare not show it on your face. Not yet. Instead, you lift your chin, eyes tracing the now-empty stairwell, the place where Jungkook had stood moments ago with that untouchable confidence.

Inside, however, a smile curls small, secret, dangerous. Eva is safe, Jimin is moving his pieces, and now Jungkook, the man who believed no chain could ever hold him, is led away under the eyes of his own household.

You school your features into calm as the servants whisper in confusion, fear trembling in their voices. But beneath your stillness, pride blooms hot and fierce. For the first time, you feel the edge of triumph.

The great Jeon empire has begun to crack, and you, quietly, are glad to watch it fall.

-----

The iron gates groaned as they opened, the clang echoing through the damp corridors. The air inside the prison was thick with the stench of mildew and rust, the dim lantern light throwing long, sharp shadows against the walls. Jungkook sat on a narrow wooden bench, wrists bound in iron, the scrape of metal against his skin leaving faint red marks. He did not flinch. His gaze was steady, calm, almost bored.

The guards straightened suddenly when footsteps approached. Not the slow, shuffling tread of a jailer, but a measured, authoritative stride. The air shifted; even the silence seemed to stand taller. Then he appeared President Park, his presence as commanding as a storm. His black overcoat was spotless despite the filth around him, his eyes sharp, carrying the weight of command and ambition.

"Leave us," he ordered the guards. His voice was low but firm, brooking no question. With hurried bows, they withdrew, leaving only the echo of their retreat behind.

The President stepped closer to the bars, his hands clasped behind his back as he studied Jungkook. For a long moment, he said nothing, and the silence felt heavier than chains. Finally, he spoke, his tone a sharp blade wrapped in velvet.

"You've grown careless, Jungkook." His gaze did not soften, not even when Jungkook raised his chin, meeting him without fear. "Do you have any notion of what you've done? At a time when the elections draw near, when every eye is fixed upon me, you allow yourself to be dragged here, accused of smuggling, of drugs and contraband? Do you understand the disgrace this brings upon my name?"

Jungkook's lips curled faintly, a smirk flickering like the ghost of defiance. "The Kims move quicker than I anticipated. But disgrace?" His voice was low, calm. "No chains nor rumors have the power to weaken you. Not truly."

President Park's eyes narrowed. For a fleeting second, there was the faintest glimmer of pride at Jungkook's composure, but it was smothered quickly by sternness. "That arrogance is what landed you here." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You will remain in this place for a few weeks. Do not resist, do not speak, and do not act. The election must pass without blemish. When it is over, I will send the best lawyer to sweep this matter aside."

"And until then?" Jungkook asked, tilting his head, his voice laced with disdain. "I am to rot in a cage like some petty criminal?"

"You are to endure," the President snapped, his tone sharpened like steel. "For the sake of what we have built. For the sake of power itself." He leaned closer, his eyes burning with the weight of unyielding ambition. "Do not mistake silence for weakness. Sometimes, retreat is the most dangerous weapon."

Jungkook's smirk lingered, though his eyes darkened. He leaned back against the cold stone wall, stretching his legs as though the iron bars were nothing more than an inconvenience. "As you wish."

The President's stare lingered a moment longer before he turned sharply, his coat sweeping against the filthy floor as he left. The heavy door closed behind him with a resonant thud, leaving Jungkook once again in silence.

But this time, his silence was not defeat. His mind was already moving, sharper than the chains that bound him.

-----

Jimin sat with his head in his hands, the lamplight flickering across the deep lines of worry etched on his face. The moment he had heard of your abduction, something inside him had nearly broken. Every plan, every carefully measured step he had taken against the Jeons had almost crumbled under the thought of losing you. But when word reached him that Jungkook himself had taken you back, a strange relief had washed over him.

It was bitter, twisted relief, yet undeniable.

"The devil you know," he muttered to himself, exhaling shakily. "Better him than the others." He hated Jungkook, despised the way the man possessed you as though you were no more than his shadow. But at least with Jungkook, there was a form of safety, however cruel. With those men at the brothel, it would have been ruin.

Across the room, Eva sat silently, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She had been quiet ever since the news reached them, her eyes hollow with fear.

Jimin finally looked up, his tone steady but urgent. "Eva, you need to go to the court. File the case. Speak the truth of what's been done to you and to Y/n. We cannot let this continue. If the world knows, if the law knows, those people will not stand untouchable."

Eva's lips trembled. She shook her head quickly, tears welling. "I... I can't. Jimin, you don't understand. They'll find me. They'll destroy me. What if they take Duri? What if they hurt her?" Her voice cracked at Duri's name, the weight of fear shackling her words.

Jimin moved closer, his voice low, almost pleading. "Eva, listen to me. I know you're terrified. But silence only feeds their power. Every day you stay quiet, the Jeons tighten their grip, and men like them win. You said once that you wanted a better life for Duri. This is the moment. If you do nothing, she grows up in the same chains that bound you."

Her hands shook violently, pressing against her skirts as if to anchor herself. "But... if I speak, what if it costs me everything? What if I lose her for good?"

For a long time, Jimin said nothing. His eyes softened, his usual sharp determination fading into quiet sorrow. "You've already lost too much, Eva. But fighting might give her a future."

The room fell into silence, broken only by the faint crackle of the oil lamp. Eva's breath came uneven, her gaze distant as memories of Duri flooded her mind her little hands, her laughter, the way she calls her name with so much innocence. The ache in her chest was unbearable.

Days passed before she spoke of it again. Then weeks. Jimin never pressed, but his eyes always carried the same question.

Finally, one evening, Eva entered the room with a new kind of fire in her gaze. Fear still clung to her, but beneath it burned something stronger resolve.

"I'll do it," she said softly, almost to herself at first. Then louder, with conviction. "For Duri. If I don't fight, I'll never see her again. She deserves a good future and I deserve to be heard."

Jimin exhaled, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. He bowed his head slightly, almost as if honoring her courage. "Then we'll prepare. Carefully, but firmly. You won't stand alone."

For the first time in a long while, Eva felt her hands still. She was still afraid? how could she not be? But for Duri and the other children in the orphan, she would walk into fire if she had to.

--------

The courtroom was packed, every seat filled, the press huddled in the back with cameras poised like predators. The Jeon name alone was enough to drag attention, and with the election hanging in the balance, whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire.

Jungkook sat tall beside his lawyer, the arrogance in his posture impossible to miss. He wore his suit like armor, his jaw set, his dark eyes sharp. To the public, he looked unbothered, even bored. After all, he had one of the best lawyers in the country on his side.

The trial began with the charges illegal trade, drug distribution, trafficking. The lawyer defended with practiced ease, turning documents and names around with smooth explanations, dismissing evidence as coincidental, redirecting blame to lesser employees. Every word was calculated, every rebuttal precise.

Jungkook leaned back, smirking faintly. They can't touch me.

Then, the doors at the back opened. A murmur ran through the courtroom as a slim girl walked in, her hands clenched tightly in front of her. Her clothes were simple, her face pale, her eyes swollen from sleepless nights, but her chin was lifted in fragile defiance.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed. He knew that face. The memory came back swiftly an event at his house. His lips curled in disdain. She should be in some dark corner, earning her keep in the only way she knows. What the hell is she doing here?

The prosecutor's voice rang out: "Your Honor, I would like to call Eva Kim to the stand."

Jungkook's smirk faltered.

Eva walked forward, every step heavy. She thought of Duri's small face, of the other children in the orphanage, of the ones who had disappeared without a trace. Her knees wanted to buckle, her heart pounded so loud she could barely hear herself think but she held on. For them.

The prosecutor guided her gently. "Eva, can you tell the court what you witnessed?"

Eva swallowed, glancing briefly at Jungkook. His eyes bore into her, cold and venomous, but she tore her gaze away. "I was... seventeen when they first tried to take me." Her voice trembled, but she forced it out. "I lived in an orphanage. Children there... they were promised work, adoption, a future. But instead, they were sold. Some to factories. Some to brothels. Some never came back at all."

Gasps broke out in the crowd. The judge raised a hand to silence them.

Eva's fingers twisted together as she spoke. "I saw the men who came. They had lists, names. Jungkook Jeon's name was always on those papers. They worked for him. He ordered it." Her voice cracked, but she pushed on. "He profited from selling children like me."

Jungkook's lawyer rose sharply. "Objection! This is hearsay, an emotional manipulation-"

But the prosecutor already placed documents on the desk. Contracts. Shipments. Payments linked directly to Jeon's companies, coded in neat lines of corruption. "This is no hearsay. Her testimony aligns with documented evidence. These children weren't lost. They were sold."

The room erupted again.

Jungkook shifted forward, his confidence finally breaking. His lawyer whispered furiously, flipping through files, but the tide had already turned.

Eva's voice steadied as she looked toward the judge. "I'm not here just for myself. I'm here for my sister, Duri. She's seven. If I stay silent, she'll be next. And for the others children who never got to come back. Someone has to speak for them."

Silence fell, thick and heavy. Even the press didn't dare to move.

The judge leaned back, eyes grave. After deliberation, the verdict rang out:

"Jungkook Jeon, you are hereby convicted of illegal trafficking of minors, exploitation, and involvement in organized criminal activities, including drug distribution and overseas trade. You are sentenced to prison, where you will remain under federal custody. No bail will be granted."

The gavel struck.

Jungkook's world shattered. His name, his reputation, his empire all torn apart by the trembling words of a girl. His fists clenched, rage burning through him, but the guards were already at his side, pulling him to his feet, locking the cuffs around his wrists.

Eva lowered her gaze, her body trembling, tears finally falling. But when she thought of Duri safe, waiting for her she knew she had done the right thing and Y/n, sitting silently in the back of the courtroom, felt the smallest flicker of satisfaction bloom in her chest.

------

The scandal that had begun within the dark walls of the court did not end there. No, like a storm spilling over the edges of a fragile cup, it poured into every street, every household, every whispered gathering of men and women. Word of Jungkook Jeon's conviction traveled faster than trains upon their iron tracks, faster than telegrams dispatched from city to city. It spread upon lips, carried in papers hot from the press, spoken of in hushed tones beneath gas lamps and shouted in public squares until the air itself seemed filled with nothing but his name.

For months, the nation lived in a fever of revelation. The Jeon empire, once untouchable, lay in ruin. Merchants who had once bowed to the family's wealth now spat upon their name. Gentlemen who had dined with them only seasons ago now denied ever knowing them. And above it all, the figure of Jungkook sat behind iron bars, his empire reduced to dust, his promises to ashes.

When election season arrived, the weight of corruption bore heavily upon the old order. President Park, once a man who stood in high halls, his voice thundering like a general's, was now seen by the people as nothing but a traitor cloaked in fine garments. The scandal had not spared him. Documents revealed his hand dipped into the same illicit pool of profit, his silence purchased with coin and favor. The opposition seized upon it with vigor.

Pamphlets flew like leaves in autumn, decrying the old guard as wolves fattened upon the blood of orphans. Newspapers ran thick with ink, the bold print screaming corruption, greed, betrayal. In taverns and tea houses, in markets and on porches, the people muttered of children stolen, of factories fed with their fragile bones, of a president who had feasted while his nation starved.

Thus, when the day of reckoning came, the verdict of the nation was as swift as the judgment of the court. President Park was cast aside, his name cursed in both the alleys of the poor and the parlors of the rich. The ballot boxes bore no mercy. He lost not with dignity, but with disgrace.

In his stead rose Kim Namjoon, a man whose speeches rang with the promise of reform, of cleansing the rot that had seeped into the bones of governance. The people, weary yet hungry for change, lifted him as though he were the tide that might wash away years of deceit. And so he ascended, not merely as a leader, but as the living symbol of the people's fury and their fragile hope.

As for Mr. Park, his fall was not unlike Jungkook's once a lion, now a chained beast. He, too, was brought before the law, stripped of titles, wealth, and influence. No longer the man of power he had been, he paid daily for his sins, not only in the cell to which he was confined, but in the memory of the people who would never forgive.

And so the chapter closed: the mighty brought low, the corrupt devoured by their own greed, and the nation turning its face to a new dawn. Yet, as history has ever shown, even in the glow of renewal, the shadows of men's ambition never truly vanish.

----- The prison smelled of rust and damp stone, the air heavy with resignation. Guards led you down the echoing corridor until the clang of a metal door signaled the visiting room. You sat across from Jungkook, the man who had once been your husband, your captor, your gilded cage. A year had passed since he was dragged away in handcuffs, yet his eyes still burned with the same arrogance that had once made you tremble.

He leaned forward, the chain at his wrists rattling. "You must be happy seeing me here," he said, his voice dripping with venom, though his lips curled in something close to a smile.

You met his gaze without flinching. "I am. It's for the dirty things you've done. You're finally paying for every wound, every scar you left behind. Karma doesn't forget, Jungkook."

You pulled a thin stack of papers from your bag, setting them on the table between you. The echo of the paper against the metal was louder than you expected. "I want a divorce. You just need to sign these and I'm free."

His eyes flickered down to the papers, then back to you. His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding. "You are nothing without me, Y/n. You have no education. No man will marry a divorced woman. All those luxuries you enjoyed they were mine. Given to you by me. And they're gone now."

You leaned back, unfazed. "I don't need your luxury, and I don't need you. I don't need a man especially not a man who spits on women, who laughs at their pain, who calls it power. That's not strength, Jungkook, that's weakness."

He slammed his hand down, making the chains clink harshly. "Don't you dare talk down to me!"

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your words to cut deeper. "If your parents were here, they would be disappointed by you."

That struck him like a blade. His nostrils flared, his lips curled into a snarl. "You don't get to talk about my parents. You don't know them."

"You know yourself better than anyone else Jungkook and you know that you are wrong" You never got to meet his parents, but you did heard they were good people and they were no more in this world.

You chuckled softly, rising from your seat, gathering the papers. "Sign them, or I'll have no choice but to charge you for the abuse as well. You and I both know the court won't show mercy again."

For a moment, silence stretched, the tension hanging like a storm about to break. But you didn't wait for his reply. You turned and walked away, the clatter of the guard's keys behind you the only sound. Jungkook's glare burned at your back, but it no longer mattered.

Stepping out of the prison gates, the cold air hit you, but it felt refreshing, almost like a baptism. And there he was. Jimin stood waiting, his hands in the pockets of his coat, his expression softening when his eyes met yours.

The moment you saw him, a weight lifted from your chest. Unlike Jungkook, unlike your family who once treated you as though you were bound to duty, Jimin looked at you as though you were free. As though you were worthy just as you were.

You walked to him, your steps steady, your head high. For the first time in years, you weren't leaving someone behind you were walking toward someone who respected you. And in Jimin's quiet smile, in the gentle way he reached for your hand without pressing, you found what Jungkook could never give.

Peace.

--------

The orphanage looked nothing like the crumbling building you had once visited years ago. Its broken windows had been replaced with clear glass that let in soft sunlight, and the courtyard was no longer filled with weeds but with children's laughter. Bright paint covered the walls, murals of trees, books, and smiling faces. What had once been a forgotten corner of the city now thrived with hope.

You stood at the entrance, taking it all in. Duri and Eva two of the girls you remembered vividly ran past you, Duri clutching a wooden toy plane, Eva calling after her with a smile. Your heart warmed. It had been months since Kim Namjoon became president, months since the shadow of corruption and fear began to lift, and here was proof that change was possible.

As you walked deeper into the orphanage, you traced the transformations with your eyes:

A library where broken chairs once sat, now filled with shelves of books. A garden where the children learned to grow their own vegetables. Teachers who actually smiled as they guided the little ones.

You felt proud, though you had played only a small part.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a familiar voice said from behind.

You turned, surprised to see Namjoon standing there not in his usual formal attire, but in a simple shirt with rolled-up sleeves, his presence calm yet commanding. For a moment, you were almost caught off guard. This was the president, yet he looked more like a man who belonged in this very place, standing among children and sunlight.

"President Kim," you greeted, bowing slightly out of habit.

He smiled, shaking his head. "Just Namjoon, here."

You hesitated before speaking. "I should thank you, for everything. For exposing them, for giving people like these children a chance. Without you, none of this would've been possible."

But instead of accepting your gratitude, Namjoon looked at you with something deeper in his eyes. "No. It's me who should thank you. You helped me."

You frowned, confused. "Helped you? I don't understand."

Namjoon's gaze drifted to the children playing in the courtyard, his expression softening. "Jungkook's late wife was my cousin sister." His voice grew quieter, more weighted with memory. "She believed in freedom. In dignity for women. In giving people, especially children a chance to live in a fair state. But Jungkook, he silenced her, crushed her, and I lost her to his cruelty."

Your breath caught. You had never known.

He turned back to you, his voice steady, though pain flickered beneath his composure. "When I saw you stand against him, when I saw you refuse to be broken by him, I saw her in you. Her strength. Her fight. I couldn't save her, but I could fight for the dream she left behind. That's why I exposed them all. Not just for justice, but to make sure her dream lived on."

Silence stretched between you as you absorbed his words. The truth hit you with both sorrow and understanding. All this time, Namjoon hadn't just been fighting for political power he had been fighting for something deeply personal.

You finally found your voice. "Then, all of this," you gestured at the orphanage, at the changes across the state, "it's her dream."

Namjoon nodded. "And now, it's ours. Yours, mine, every person who believes that people deserve better. That children like Duri and Eva deserve futures not stained by greed and corruption."

Your chest tightened with an unfamiliar mixture of grief and pride. You looked around once more, the sound of children's laughter ringing like a promise in the air. And for the first time in a long time, you believed in that promise too.

------ "You're nothing but a curse," your father spits, his voice echoing in the drawing room like venom. "A disgrace to this family. No wonder you ended up with a man like him. That's what cursed women deserve."

You stand there, still, as if his words cannot pierce you anymore. Once upon a time, they would have shattered you. Once upon a time, you would have begged him to see you, to love you. But now? You only chuckle. The sound isn't amused—it's bitter, cold, almost sharp enough to cut through his rage.

"A curse?" you repeat softly. "Funny. Because it was you who married me off to him. It was you who put me in that house, who handed me over to a man like Jungkook. And now, after everything, you call me a disgrace?" You tilt your head, your lips curling into something that looks more like pity than anger. "I think you're only angry because your business is falling apart. Because Jungkook isn't there to fund your greed anymore."

Your father's face burns red, his fists clenched, but you no longer care. His fury doesn't shake you. Not now. Not anymore.

Because behind you, you can feel Jimin's quiet presence his steady breath, his hand brushing yours, reminding you that you're not alone. He has always been there. When you had nothing, when even your own blood turned against you, Jimin was the one who stood firm. He never looked at you like a curse. He never called you broken. He saw you as a woman who survived, who deserved love, who deserved respect.

As you walk away from your father's collapsing empire of lies, you know you are no longer his disgrace. You are something he will never be free.

And then there was his mother. For years, she too had been chained by a toxic husband, a man whose cruelty suffocated her until Jimin finally exposed him and tore the mask away. The man rots in prison now, powerless, while she breathes freely for the first time in decades. You see it in her eyes every time she looks at Jimin the pride, the gratitude, the relief of finally having a son who fought not only for her but for an entire state.

"I'm proud of you," she told you once, her hand warm on yours, her smile soft. "You're stronger. You stood against them all. Just like I'm proud of my son." Those words carried you further than your father's curses ever could. They stitched up the wounds that his voice left behind.

-----

The air outside felt different now lighter, calmer, as if the storms of the past had finally blown away. The world wasn't perfect, not yet, but for the first time you could breathe without the weight of shame pressing down on your chest.

Jimin walked beside you, his hand warm and steady in yours. He had this way of grounding you, of reminding you with every small touch that you weren't alone anymore. He didn't need grand speeches his love showed in the quiet way he looked at you, in the way he always slowed his steps to match yours, in the way he listened when no one else ever had.

"I was thinking..." you said softly, almost hesitantly. "Maybe I should study. Start again. I barely made it through anything before, and-"

Before you could finish, Jimin stopped walking. He turned to face you, his dark eyes shining with a tenderness that melted every wall you had left. He cupped your cheek gently, brushing his thumb against your skin.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low but certain, "it doesn't matter how old you are. You're barely twenty. You have your whole life ahead of you. It's never too late to learn, to grow, to do what you couldn't before. I'll be with you through all of it."

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside you the part of you that had been told you were worthless, cursed, a disgrace. Tears prickled in your eyes, but this time they weren't born of pain. They were soft, cleansing, like rain after a long drought.

"Do you really think I can?" you whispered.

Jimin smiled, that boyish, hopeful smile that always made your heart ache in the best way. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead to yours. "I don't just think so. I know it. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met. And I'll remind you every single day until you believe it too."

A laugh slipped from your lips light, real. For the first time in years, you could imagine a future not filled with chains but with choices. And in that future, Jimin was there.

When his lips met yours, it wasn't rushed or desperate. It was gentle, patient, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise. A promise of new beginnings, of love without conditions, of respect without doubt.

Pulling back slightly, he whispered against your lips, "We'll build something together. A life that's truly ours."

And as you walked hand in hand toward that unseen tomorrow, the world didn't seem so frightening anymore. With him by your side, and your own strength finally awakening, you knew one thing with absolute certainty you were no longer cursed. You were free. And this time, you were loved the way you always deserved.

END

Read! I’m creating a taglist for the BTS Dark One-Shots. If you’re interested, feel free to comment below, and I’ll add you to the list. You’ll be tagged in every chapter of this series.

[kpopkurves]

BTS React To You Calling Him ‘Husband’

———————-

RM (Namjoon) — The Flustered but Smooth Friend

You’re filming a “Book Recommendations” vlog and casually say,

“So, I’m here with my husband, Namjoon, to help me pick some books.”

Namjoon blinks, looks at you sideways like, “Husband?!” and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Since when did I get promoted from friend to husband? Should I be worried or honored?”

You smirk, “Depends… do you wanna be worried or honored?”

He laughs but runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered.

“Guess I’ll take honored… but you better be careful throwing that word around. People might start believing it… and maybe I wouldn’t mind if they did.”

The way he glances at you over his glasses? Yeah, you’re both blushing by the end of the video.

———————-

Jin — The Dramatic Flirt with a Hint of Realness

Filming a “Cooking Challenge,” you say,

“Today, my husband Jin is gonna teach me how to cook something edible.”

Jin gasps, holding a spoon to his chest like he’s been shot.

“Husband?! You’ve been keeping secrets from me? Shouldn’t I be the first to know?!”

You laugh, “Well, you’re finding out now, so congrats?”

He grins and leans in close: “If I’m your husband, then I’m expecting wifey privileges. Like… first taste of whatever you make. And maybe a kiss as a reward if it’s good?”

You blink, laughing nervously, but Jin just smiles like he’s dead serious.

“What? Friends can joke… right?” he teases, but there’s a look in his eyes like he wants to know if you actually mean it.

—————————

Suga (Yoongi) — Chill but Secretly Flustered

Recording a late-night “Lo-fi Vibes” playlist video and you say,

“Hanging out with my husband Yoongi tonight.”

Yoongi side-eyes you, unimpressed but smirking: “Husband? Really? That what we’re doing now?”

You smirk back, “What? Don’t like the sound of it?”

He shrugs, “Didn’t say that. Just caught me off guard.”

He leans back in his chair, glancing at you from under his lashes.

“If I’m your husband, you’re gonna have to start treating me better. Like, where’s my coffee? Where’s my cuddles?”

You snort, “You want cuddles now?”

“If I’m husband status, yeah. That’s the rule, right?” he says with a half-smile and now it’s awkward and cute because neither of you knows if you’re still joking.

———————

J-Hope (Hobi) — Loud, Flirty, and Lowkey Testing the Waters

Filming a “Dance Challenge” when you say,

“Here with my husband, Hobi. Let’s see if he can keep up with me.”

He FREEZES, wide-eyed. “Husband?! YAH! Since when?!”

You laugh, “I mean… you wanna be?”

He laughs loud but you see that moment of “wait, what if?” cross his face.

“If I’m your husband, you’re definitely in trouble because I’m winning every argument including this dance battle.”

Then he steps closer, smirking: “But you know… I could get used to you calling me that.”

And suddenly, you’re blushing too much to keep dancing properly.

——————-

Jimin — Sweet Flirt, but Playfully Teasing You

Recording a “Couple Yoga Challenge” (as friends, of course), you say,

“I brought my husband Jimin to help me out today.”

Jimin’s whole face lights up, giggling,

“Ohhhh, husband? I didn’t know we skipped the whole dating part. Bold of you!”

You grin, “Well, I figured we’re close enough.”

He leans in way too close, smirking: “Yeah? You wanna make it official or just for the video?”

You pause, speechless, and he laughs again,

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you think about it. But now that you’ve said it, don’t be surprised if I start calling you wifey.”

The rest of the video, he keeps calling you “wife” just to make you blush.

——————

V (Taehyung) — Playful but Lowkey Serious

Doing a “Fashion Haul” video, you say,

“So, I’m here with my husband, Taehyung, to rate these outfits.”

Taehyung tilts his head, smiling like he’s plotting something:

“Husband? Hmm… I didn’t know we were telling people our secret.”

You laugh, “Secret? Since when?”

He steps closer, pretending to whisper but making sure the mic catches it: “Since I decided I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.”

You stare at him, shocked, and he grins: “Kidding. Or not. Depends on you.”

Cue you both laughing but secretly thinking about it way too hard.

—————

Jungkook — Shy Bunny Who Flirts Back

Filming a “Gamer Night” vlog and you casually say,

“Playing with my husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook IMMEDIATELY chokes on his drink.

“H-Husband?!” He hides his face in his hoodie, laughing hard.

“When did that happen?!”

You smirk, “Right now. You objecting?”

He peeks out from his hoodie, smiling shyly: “No… I mean… depends. Are you serious?”

You’re caught off guard now. “I mean… I could be.”

He bites his lip, glancing at you: “Say it again. I wanna hear it one more time.”

When you say it again, he just grins to himself and shakes his head, “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

—————

[kooktrash]

the art of obsession | kim taehyung

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ 17.4K words

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.

The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.

Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.

With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.

You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.

As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren’t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.

He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.

“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.

“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”

At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”

“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”

Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”

You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.

You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.

All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.

Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.

At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.

In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.

Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.

The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.

You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.

The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.

There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.

“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”

The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”

You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”

“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.

“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”

Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.

What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?

These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.

You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.

You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.

You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.

He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.

The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.

Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.

You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.

The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.

He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.

At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.

“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.

“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.

Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”

His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.

“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.

“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”

Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.

It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.

Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.

It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.

“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”

He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“

“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”

“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.

Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”

“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”

“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”

“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.

As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.

Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.

He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.

“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”

You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”

Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”

The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.

“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”

His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“

“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”

Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.

Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.

He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.

With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.

Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.

They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.

Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.

That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.

“My name is—“

“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”

You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”

“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”

He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”

You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”

He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.

“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”

You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”

It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.

When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.

You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.

“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”

“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”

His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”

“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”

“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.

“Are we ready to order?”

Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”

Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.

Why do you ignore me so much?

You’re always too busy painting to notice me?

Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.

It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.

The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.

“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”

“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”

“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”

“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”

“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”

You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.

Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.

A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.

“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.

“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”

He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.

In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”

You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”

He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”

By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.

“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.

“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.

“But what is it that you believe it to be?”

The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.

You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.

There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”

“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.

“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.

“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.

“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.

“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”

“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”

Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”

“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”

Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”

A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”

You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”

“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.

How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?

You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”

Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”

His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”

The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.

“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”

Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”

“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”

That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”

A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.

Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”

You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.

“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”

“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”

Taehyung���s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”

The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.

You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.

He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.

The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.

Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.

A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.

You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.

His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.

With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.

You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”

He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.

He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.

His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.

"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.

When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.

“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.

There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.

Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.

There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.

Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.

A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.

“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.

As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.

Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.

Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.

“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”

“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.

Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.

“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.

Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.

Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”

“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.

“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.

“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”

He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.

Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.

“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”

You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”

“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.

For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”

“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”

“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”

It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.

“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”

The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.

You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.

It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.

There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.

His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”

Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”

Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”

Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”

“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”

There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.

It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.

The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.

Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.

You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.

Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.

You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”

You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.

Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”

He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”

“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”

“Can I watch?”

Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.

By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.

It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.

Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.

Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.

You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.

Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.

“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.

You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”

Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”

Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”

“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”

“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”

“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”

“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.

“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”

Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.

Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.

There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.

After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”

“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”

You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.

There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.

He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”

“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”

All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.

It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard

“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.

A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”

It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.

It was you.

You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.

Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.

“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.

“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].

“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.

“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”

Kim Namjoon.

Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.

“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.

Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.

Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”

Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”

Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.

You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”

“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”

“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”

“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”

His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”

“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”

A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”

You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.

Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”

“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.

“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.

“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.

There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.

“Namjoon.”

He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?

“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”

The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”

“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”

Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”

Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”

He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”

“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?

Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.

“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”

“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”

Namjoon didn’t get it.

So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?

Was it not that you might love each other?

Was it just that you two understood each other?

He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.

It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?

Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?

How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?

::.

okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[yootaesowlwrites]

Blush - Kim Taehyung

A/N: @taeandpuppies thank you for 4 years of friendship and I hope there's plenty more.

W/C: 1.1K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog or a pfp. Minors DNI or get blocked!

Prompts: “Is that a blush I see?”

Warnings: Fluff, hint of suggestiveness, humour.

Age Warning: No age warning applies to this.

You weren’t completely sure how it had started, you just knew you were doing something in the laundry room before the playful antics had started between you and Taehyung, laughter filled the house as you travelled through the kitchen and ended up in the living room, he moves around the coffee table only for his foot to get caught on the blanket that was spread on the floor from the previous night when you had a movie night with several blankets and pillows.

“Oh, shit,” He loudly says, you quickly reach for his hand to attempt to stop his fall, it is like time had slowed down as he slowly turns, so his back would take the fall first while he pulls you along with him. “Oomf!” He hits the floor with a thud while you have managed to slow down your moment, he looks up at you before tugging on your arm and pulling you down onto him, you land on his lap and press his hand back onto the ground as if you’re pinning him down.

“Hey,” You say. You move your hips higher to find a more comfortable position, and you watch as he stiffens for a moment, you look down and see you have managed to move yourself just above his crotch, a smile grows on your lips, and you lift your head to look at him and find his cheeks reddening along with his ears. “Is that a blush I see?” You move your free hand to his cheek and poke your finger against it. “It is, how cute,” He moves his hands to the hem of your shirt and slips them underneath before placing them onto your hips, his hands felt warm against your skin, and it felt so welcoming to you, his thumbs slowly began moving in circles against your hips.

“Can you blame me?” He asks. “It’s you, I can’t help but blush,” His hands slide higher before he presses them against your middle back, making you lean forward and down onto him, he lifts his head, and you close your eyes as you wait for his lips to make contact with yours, his breath fans against your lips which makes you hold your breath in anticipation, for a moment it felt like time had stopped and everything around you had simply vanished, you could feel the warmth of his lips close to touching yours, and you could feel the tension building between you and him.

“Bark!” The loud bark causes you both to pull back from each other abruptly. You both turn your head towards the direction it came from and find Yeontan standing there wagging his tail in excitement at finding you both on the floor, which was his territory and just seeing you both at his level had him over the moon, you begin to laugh as you lower your head against Taehyung’s chest.

“Tan, no, no, that wasn’t the right time to do that,” He says. “Absolutely not the right time,” You laugh harder as he pouts at Yeontan for interrupting him. You push yourself into a sitting position before climbing off him and sitting against the couch as you laugh. “See, you blew it for me completely now,” He sits upright and pats the top of his knee, calling for Yeontan. “Are you against love?”

“I think he is,” You say between laughter. “He just made that loud and clear,” Yeontan makes his way towards Taehyung and jumps onto his lap. “Unless he is the one receiving it,” He picked Yeontan up and brought him closer to his face, a playful glare was on his face.

“How dare you, Tannie…” He says, only for Yeontan to lick at his face, causing his frown to instantly fade away. “Hey, hey, I am supposed to be mad at you,” You couldn’t help but laugh more at the interaction between them.

“He’s not against love, he’s against not being on the receiving end of it,” You say and move your hand to the top of Yeontan’s head and scratch the top of his head. “He deserves all the love also,” You push against the couch before standing. “While you two are enjoying your time together, I’ll go put the laundry away.”

“No, no, stay,” He quickly says. “Just for a few minutes and then we can both go do it,” He puts Yeontan down onto his lap and reaches for your hand. “I’m not just here to rest, I’m here to help you around the place too,” He squeezes your hand as he looks up at you, a slight pout on his lips. “We’re a team,” You softly sigh and nod your head before taking a step towards the couch, not letting go of his hand, you sit down as close as you can to him without causing any strain on his arm. “Let me just…” He moves closer to the couch, trying not to disturb Yeontan who was still on his lap, only for him to jump off his lap. “Hey!” Taehyung lets out a defeated sigh and shakes his head. “After all this… getting you to stay here, and now he goes…” You can’t help but laugh.

“He wanted you to choose just him,” You laugh. He shakes his head and moves onto his knees and shifts closer to you, he places his free hand on top of your knee and your laughing slowly dies down, but a smile remains on your lips.

“He can’t expect me to make such choices,” He says with a giant smile on his lips. “He could have gotten cuddles from both of us,” He leans in closer, closing the distance a little more between you both. “But now… now I’ll just do this instead,” He completely closes the distance between you both by kissing you, your eyes shut as you take in the feeling of his lips against yours and how they taste, he slowly pushes you to lean against the couch and follows you.

“Hmm,” You hum into the kiss, not wanting to break the kiss, but also not wanting to forget about the laundry that needed to be finished. He pulls back from the kiss, but quickly plants his lips against your jaw. “Tae… Tae.”

“Hmm?” He hums as he continues to plant kiss after kiss against your skin. You didn’t want to end the moment, but then again, if you finished everything that had to be finished you could continue without interruption.

“The laundry… we need to finish it,” You say. He lowers his head to the crook of your neck and lets out a long sigh. “And then we can keep going, no interruption,” He pulls his head away from your neck, and you can see a bigger pout on his lips.

“You’re right, you’re right, if Tannie doesn’t decide to interrupt us either,” He says which makes you both chuckle, the chances of being interrupted by Yeontan were never zero.

[inthelow]

GET HIM BACK! — jeon jungkook. (synopsis)

pairing: f!producer/writer reader x idol!jungkook

summary: after a hard breakup with who you thought would be the one, the only thing in your mind was a sad playlist of Taylor Swift songs and red wine. But, what happens when your neighbour- who is done of hearing you cry at 2 am every day - puts the idea in your head of getting your ex back? but with a good and sweet revenge… of course everything will be easier if you didn’t have any feelings for your ex and if your neighbour wasn’t a superstar idol who doesn’t have a problem at pretending to be your boyfriend to piss off that ex - who also happens to be his ex best friend -. What a mess, right?

genre: fake relationship trope, kinda growing up/coming of age, womanhood thing, female rage (a LOT of female rage), funny but cringe in the same way, a lot of drama - in a comedy way but also very shitty things - a lot of bad jokes and some angst (lot of thoughts about not being “good enough” and mental health issues), some sexual thing (yeah, makeout, kissing, sex, etc) and ofc bad language (impossible-to-count curse words).

masterlist: (synopsis), (one), (two), (three), (interlude 1), (interlude 2), (four), (five), (six). (epilogue)

* the masterlist is already done but would be uploaded after the fifth chapter since I don’t wanna give spoilers.

* first fic / one shot whatever you girlies call it yayy omg im so excited <33;;; please be gentle with me luv u

… At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want… Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right… I, I could feel the mascara run, You told me that you met someone…

Jung-kook put a pillow over his ear, growling with annoyance, he moved under his sheets like a baby about to do a tantrum and screamed with irritation. He couldn’t spend another night hearing your voice as loud as those stupid speakers you had, which by the way, he was curious how much did they cost you because the quality and volume they had were really good… but that wasn’t the issue so it could wait. He knew he liked Taylor Swift’s music, of course he did, she had a great voice and her lyrics - even if he didn’t understand most of them for his level of english- were good. But after spending almost two weeks hearing you sing her entire discography, especially her albums “Evermore” and “Red”, on the other side of his wall, he was starting to hate the voice of that woman. He couldn’t believe someone could listen to the same song like 20 times a day, specially a really fucking depressing one. He considered himself a really chill person, he didn’t have a problem with loud music at night because he actually does the same thing sometimes, singing karaoke at 3am on live is one of his favourite activities to do with his fans. However, there was a difference on doing that once a week to every fucking day… especially when he had to wake up in five hours to catch a flight.

Now he has a problem with you.

There were three things - actually a lot more he would like to admit - that Jungkook knew about you. First, you were incredibly annoying at midnight. Second, you were definitely having a hard time. And last but not least, you worked as a producer in HYBE which made it somehow easier to talk to you without having a scandal. So, with these three things in mind, he jumped out of bed and walked to your apartment. He knew he had to show a little of empathy to whatever you were going through but he was also going to be very serious about the problem he had with your volume. Sleepy and not thinking too much about what he was about to do, he knocked on your door for five minutes, his annoyance growing at you not being able to listen to the sound of his knocking because the music was too loud. This was getting out of hand. Jungkook let out a sigh of relief when the volume of the music decreased and the door finally opened. He tried not to show surprise when he got a good look of you. You were… well, a disaster. You wore an oversized shirt that almost covered your basketball shorts, your hair was all down, showing your messy curls and the makeup you had of the day was all ruined, the mascara was all over your cheeks and your eyes were puffy and red. Even looking like shit, you showed him a kind smile, hiding the bottle of red wine behind your back.

“Hi!, is everything okay?.”

Okay so this was the thing, Jung-kook knew who you were and he was pretty sure you knew who he was.

He met you probably three years ago, when Yoongi started to work on his third album and introduced you to the group as a new producer of the company. You never worked with them as a group though, he knew that you had worked on Taehyung’s album and that you helped Namjoon and Hoseok on their solos, he also knew you weren’t new in the business even if you were young. You worked in a lot of hits of different companies before HYBE recruited you and then you start to produce for the junior groups like LESSERAFIM and TxT. He also knew you weren’t totally owned by his company since you also worked in a lot of different productions out of HYBE and with a lot of western artist. He was familiar with you even if you actually never talked that much before. That’s why, he didn’t have a problem to have you as a neighbour, because when Yoongi recommended him this building and told him some producers and people that worked at the company lived around, it was better than going to other residential where he didn’t knew who he would have to deal with.

“Do you think you can keep it down?” he gave you a fake friendly smile. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He expected a nod and an apology however, your smile dropped and your eyes rolled with annoyance. Your fake kind facade disappearing immediately. He froze in place, frowning at your real personality “I always have to hear your karaoke shit at 3am, what’s the difference?.”

“Huh, wow” the singer cleared his throat “. Okay first, I don’t sing anymore at night…”

“Yeah, ‘cause you received a complaint.”

“Yes, but… how do you know…?” he gasped and opened his eyes with surprise “It was you?. Why would you…”

“No, it wasn’t me but Mrs. Yang had a good reason to do that complaint” you drank a little of your wine and crossed your arms.

“I hope she does one for you too, this is unfair” Jungkook pointed at you “You are also making me hate Taylor Swift.”

Your grimace became a pout, realizing you were being inconsiderate with the singer “okay, I’m sorry. I will try to keep the volume down.”

“Thank you” he sighed “have a goodnight…”

“ Yeah, okay, you too… oh wait!” you stopped him in the hallway “. Do you have a pot? I’m trying to make ramen.”

Jung-kook frowned, not believing what you just told him “you don’t have a pot?.”

You looked at him like he asked your deepest secret of all times before clearing your throat. “ Yeah, so funny story” you laughed dryly “. I got dumped and now I have to live here again and my ex has almost all my things.” your fake smile dropped again. “Actually is not funny, is sad and pathetic… I don’t even have a bed right now and I’m sleeping on my couch like a fucking rat. I haven’t eaten a homemade meal for three weeks so I’m getting fat and I look so ugly now that…”

“Jesus Christ” the idol started to panic when you sobbed very loudly.

“I’m okay!… I’m okay, yeah I’m okay, don’t worry, I’m totally fine. I’m so fine… it’s crazy, yeah ” you nodded, trying - and failing - to not sob “. So you have a pod I can borrow?.”

Jung-kook looked at you sitting on his kitchen’s table and eating his ramen with a little confusion inside of him. He didn’t know how he ended up inviting you over and cooking ramen for you at 5am but there he was, sitting in front of you and watching you eat as the sun started to show up. He knew he would hate your guts later for not being able to sleep but he also knew he would feel guilty for not helping you when you were screaming for someone to hear you out. So yeah, he didn’t mind hearing you cry for thirty minutes while he cooked. He also didn’t mind that after your ugly cry you checked all his apartment like you were his closest friend. You were in a vulnerable state and he didn’t have the guts or the strength to tell you to not be nosey and mind your business, at least not in that moment. It was weird because he didn’t actually knew you as a personal friend but you acted like he did, like you knew each other for a long time and it wasn’t weird that you just cried in his kitchen for twenty minutes before looking at his collection of underwear around his living room.

“This is the best ramen I’ve ever had. ” you nod and talked with your mouth full of noodles. He snorted, tired. “By the way, do you have a Calvin Klein sponsorship or something? You have a lot of underwear by them.”

“You grabbed my underwear!?.”

“Hey, wow, I didn’t grab it. Your dirty clothes is all over your couch.”

“It’s not dirty. Also, you’re nosy.”

“I’m not, you let me in.”

“Not for you to grab my underwear…”

you sighed, annoyed “I didn’t!”.

he laughed. “Okay, okay, whatever, just finish your soup already.”

“Are you kicking me out already?.”

“Yes.”

“Rude” you pouted, “thought we were becoming friends.”

“I went to your apartment for you to keep it down and you started to cry. Yes, we’re best friends now” he said sarcastically.

You looked at him in silence and for a moment he thought that maybe you didn’t get his joke and his fake rudeness. He opened his mouth to explain himself but you spoke again.

“I mean, I cried in front of you and you made me ramen. We should be married by now.”

Okay, funny. You are funny, you could keep a joke, even in that fucked up state you were at the moment. He liked it.

“Do you even know my name?” he raised an eyebrow, jokingly.

You scoffed, “Do I need to?”.

“I think that’s the first thing we need to have a healthy marriage.”

“That’s overrated.”

He snorted “yeah, I guess I can just call you ‘dude’.”

You frowned, “I’m your wife, dude”.

He pretended to think of another nickname “Wifey?”

“Ew.”

“Bro?”

“Try again.”

“Baby princess?”

you tried not to laugh, “I kinda like that one.”

“Pookie bear?.”

“Yes?”

he laughed “I hate that one.”

“To be honest, I preferred the baby princess.”

“Then you can call me baby Pookie bear”

You giggled in a funny way, almost like a little kid “that’s so ugly, Jungkook.”

He smiled “Oh, you know my name.”

You looked at him in disbelief before rolling your eyes “who doesn’t?.”

“Wait, are you a crazy fan?” you were about to throw him a napkin but he stopped you “I’m kidding, y/n.”

“Oh, you know me?.”

“Shut up. You’re my wife, I have to”

You knew him, you knew you’ve never talked to him before… at least not much, maybe a greeting or a casual combo but you don’t remember having a real conversation with him. Not that you needed before, you worked in different things even if it was in the same building. You also knew he was a pop idol who you have to be careful with, not because he could do something to you but because everything could become a scandal and you didn’t feel like hiding your life or your career. You didn’t know how Jungkook felt about his private life and the things he did or share about it but, in that moment, it wasn’t something that bothered any of you since it would probably be the first and last time you would talk that much.

Right?.

“You wanna talk about that?”

The question the singer asked made you look at him. Jung-kook was ready to back off and change the subject if he noticed you were uncomfortable… he snorted when you sat down and sighed dramatically, like you were about to tell the most devastating story of all times. Of course you wouldn’t take it like a serious matter. He knew now, your coping mechanism was not taking shit seriously. It wasn’t a big deal but it wasn’t healthy either.

“Are you ready for the most heartbreaking story of all times?”

“Break my heart” he accepted.

Oh, boy.

He had to listen half an hour of you talking about this guy who treated you like shit. He hate it, a lot. And he almost interrupted you like twenty times to asked if you actually liked to be treated like shit or you were just stupid, but he stopped himself every time. The thing is, he could tell you are smart, and he knew you could do much better than your ex. You were pretty, talented and funny, and you didn’t seemed like a bad person or a toxic one… so why the fuck were you stuck in that guy?. He understood that you had history with him and, being honest, he knew not everything was bad for the way you talked about your ex, it was obvious you still had strong feelings about him and that if you had the opportunity you would probably go back to him in a second but he could also see that you knew the way you broke up and the last months of your relationship were pretty shitty. He understood that you were beginning to realize of that fact when you stopped in mid-sentence, frowning at the realization.

“Oh my god” you looked shocked by your own story. “Oh, my god” you stood up and walked around like a puppy following his tail “Oh, my… fucking piece of shit…”

Jungkook didn’t know what to say, you were clearly having an epiphany “you good?”. Oh, he needed to get better at comforting people.

“Of course not!” you grabbed your head with disbelief and anger “That motherfucker treated me like shit and dumped me on my birthday… and I’m sad?. What the fuck?!”.

“I mean, it’s valid that you’re sad…”

“And he stayed with my fucking bed, my TV and all my things!”

“So, uhm, do you want a tea or something?…”

“I can’t believe I was trying to get back with that bastard. Fucking christ, I mean yeah, he is Hangul and all but he’s not even that great or hot. I mean… fuck, yeah, he is actually very hot, but why the fuck would I think…?”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Jungkook stood up, shutting you up “. You just said Hangul? Like the soloist k-pop singer Hangul?. You dated him?”

You froze in your place, looking at him with doubt “hum, I don’t think I am legally allowed to confirm or deny that question”.

Jungkook knew it was that moment. He finally had an opportunity.

He laughed without a single drop of amusement “are you fucking kidding me?.”

“I don’t know what is happening right now.”

“You’re crying for that motherfucker?.” he shook his head “. How does he keep getting away with shit?.”

You frowned in confusion, you weren’t surprised that he knew your ex, you knew they were friend for a time and after all, both - Jungkook and him - were globally famous but it was a little confusing why he seemed so angry about the guy.

“Did he dumped you too or something?” you half joked, trying to ease the tension.

“No, but he fucked my girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

That was straightforward.

“Yeah.”

Honestly, you didn’t know what to say. You knew Hangul wasn’t a saint, of course you knew, that didn’t erase the fact that he did a lot of stupid shit. Like break your heart and fucked Jungkook’s girlfriend. Still, you didn’t know if the idol who was standing next to you needed confort or if he was just upset at the memory of that shitty situation. However, your mind took the worst of that fact and the bad thoughts won the round.

“Wait, when did that happen?”

He looked at you for a couple of seconds, his blank expression changing just for a second “One year ago.”

No fucking way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jungkook frowned “fuck, were you two dating at the time?”

“We were fucking that’s for sure” you screamed with anger “. That fucking piece of shit! he told me he was clean and wasn’t fucking anyone else, we…! Ugh! fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jungkook watched you walking around his kitchen, screaming in disbelief, angry and hurt “… And I wanted to get back with him! this is so embarrassing…”

The singer raised his eyebrows, knowing that was the perfect time for his idea. You stopped walking and screaming when the next words he said make you looked at him with confusion.

“Maybe you should!… you should get him back.”

The smile Jungkook was growing made you realize that he meant something different. And looking at his mischievous gaze you understood he didn’t knew who he was talking to. When you had an idea in your head and your feelings were hurt, god knows what you are capable of doing. And in that moment, with a bruised ego and a broken heart, you knew Jungkook could help you achieve the best revenge of all times. So you took a couple of seconds before taking the decision to ruin your ex-boyfriend’s life. You were fucking angry, and you were not a saint either. You were actually a crazy fucking bitch. Oh, he had no idea.

“Yes, I’m gonna get him back.”

It was time for a little revenge.

a little introduction (synopsis) before the long story yayyy, the lore behind this little introduction is insane btw get ready, this is for the girlies who love ‘better than revenge’, sad ballad songs and female rage, iykyk. hope you like it!!! uploading the first chapter soon!!! you don’t know shit about what’s coming

anyway stream guts by miss olivia rodrigo and get a bad bitch playlist cuz my baby is about to play the game of revenge on another level bc i fucking love female rage and i mean a REAL female rage, lets fucking get it girlies

[rpwprpwprpwprw]

Hi boo, can you give us more DILF recs? Doesn't matter which member.

hey baby! sure <3

I added dilf and some where the member is a father (I hope you don't mind). I must have read other fanfics with Taehyung but I can't remember them off the top of my head so for now this is it 💕

Feel free to send me your favorites 🥹

🌟 namjoon

https://www.tumblr.com/gimmethatagustd/784438640509091840/gang-shit-knj

https://www.tumblr.com/author-ssi/761361196045713408/pairing-kim-namjoon-x-reader-genre-smut

https://www.tumblr.com/1kook/638065148222898176/kim-namjoon-x-f-reader-summary-you-love 🌟🌟

🌟 jungkook

https://www.tumblr.com/muniimyg/757142831083241473/%F0%90%99%9A-bbydaddy-series-%F0%90%99%9A-kimiverse-msgs

https://www.tumblr.com/ahgasegotarmy116/746688689359503360/lemme-take-care-of-you-jeon-jungkook-one-shot

https://www.tumblr.com/kooggukk/773319309271433216/%F0%96%A6%B9-%F0%93%88%92-beyond-the-job-jjk-daddy-jungkook

https://www.tumblr.com/rpwprpwprpwprw/778867349858238464/i-dont-know-where-to-begin-with-the-most-certain 🌟

https://www.tumblr.com/ahundredtimesover/650982105480904704/inevitable-series-masterlist-jjk

https://www.tumblr.com/rpwprpwprpwprw/778096934904791040/god-hes-so-hot-and-even-more-hotter-being-a

https://www.tumblr.com/sparklingchim/669049618516115456/long-way-home-masterlist-jjk

https://www.tumblr.com/euno11a/774913757310812160/baby-girl

https://www.tumblr.com/rpwprpwprpwprw/781596035521839104/venusiangguk-dilf-jk-series-masterlist - not finished

https://www.tumblr.com/kookooluvr/782176156508209152/our-little-life-moments-in-your-little-life-with

https://www.tumblr.com/rpwprpwprpwprw/789744362617716736/theres-something-about-dilfjungkook-girl-dad-i

🌟 taehyung

https://www.tumblr.com/rpwprpwprpwprw/788343454242635776/marshmallows-and-report-cards-m

[mylovejimimi]

When three is a party, and you're the piñata | TH&JK ONE SHOT

— PAIRING: boyfriend!taehyung x fem!reader x bf'sbestfriend!jungkook — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: teasing, dirty talk, a threesome (duh), vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m receiving/giving), mild ass play, pussy slapping (but like two or so), ass slapping (like three times), LOTS of fluids, LOTS of spit (not apologizing lmao), breast playing, kinda dom!tae and dom!kook, a tiny tiny twinge of mxm, a lil angsty at some point but fluffy at the end, reader is bamboozled lol — SUMMARY: Jungkook disliked you, that's for sure. Then, why is he insinuating he wants to fuck you? And why did your boyfriend simply invited him to your bed to do so (or, better said, do you)? — WORDS: 8k (oopsy) Maybe I went a little overboard with this one lol but i added some plot!!! It came out a lot tamer than I thought tho and I changed some bits but I hope you like it anon!! I enjoyed writing the wild smut lmao Anyways please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ever since you met the boys, their own friendship dynamics were as clear as the shots of vodka Jimin made you gulp down on weekends. Sometimes, Jin and Yoongi would go for a drink and complain about their ages and the youngest and things like that; in that same way, Jin would drag Jimin to a wine testing, or Yoongi would be cooped up with Namjoon in the studio, or Hoseok would help the two eldest with choreographies, or the maknaes would go shopping with Hoseok and so on. It was obvious to you that they had a very strong bond and had some kind of symbiotic relationship. But out of all of them, the two youngest seemed to be the more symbiotic of all.

When Hoseok introduced you to the group, you all clicked just as fast as you had clicked with Hoseok before (which was why he thought you should meet his friends). Soon enough, you were one of them, all eight of you inseparable – until Taehyung confessed his feelings for you, and you kind of been crushing hard on him the whole time. So, there began the first relationship in a big group of single men, and so, things had to shift a little to accommodate a couple. You were relieved, though, because the boys had taken it very well and were all happy and rooting for the both of you – well, almost all of them.

You never felt any animosity between you and Jungkook, though you always felt he didn’t like you as much as the rest. He was rather indifferent to you, in your humble opinion. Oh, but once you started dating Taehyung, his bestest friend in life? Just then you understood what real animosity was like: whenever you were around the boys, Jungkook would either talk to you curtly and unfriendly or not acknowledge your presence at all; other times he would just glare at you, making you feel self-conscious, even that one time in summer when you put on a new sundress and everybody complimented you and you felt pretty for once; and he even went as far as excusing himself to escape to the bathroom whenever you sat down next to him. Of course, you attributed this one-sided rivalry to that fantastic decision to fall in love with his best friend and taking him away from him, but you always made sure to never talk to Taehyung about the way Jungkook seemed to hate you, to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

But then one night...

“Y/N” Jimin sang, in his drunken state of being. “Can you be a dear and bring more beer?”

“Why me? You just told Jungkook to do it.” Just as tipsy, your reply sounded whiner than you wanted, but you met Jimin’s gaze with a frown. Then, you looked at Jungkook, completely inhibited when you said: “He told you to do it.”

“I don’t want to. Got a problem with it?” You gaped at the maknae’s answer, but you would not let yourself be ran over by this big brat of a boy.

“Yes, I have a problem with it. Move your fucking ass or I will move it.” The other boys shouted a collective ‘ohhhh’ at the exchange. Okay, maybe you were going a little bit too far with your attitude but you had lost count of how many drinks you downed and that was enough to excuse your attitude. “Get the fucking beers.”

“Come here and make me” he spitted, holding your stare from across the room. And just to provoke you further, he sat comfortably against the sofa, spreading his legs and tilting his chin to you. You felt some kind of way because in any other person, it would be a suggestive invitation. He even put his hand on his crotch! But it was Jungkook, so you didn’t think much of it.

“Oh, you better be sure I will.” However, before you could get up to do God knows what, Yoongi stepped in.

“I will go, you brats” he sighed, getting up from his seat. Your eyes didn’t left Jungkook’s though, and neither did his, even arching his brow to you. You scoffed and looked at your boyfriend beside you.

“Well, thank you Jungkook and Y/N for that interesting exchange. But I wanted to propose a little game to keep up the good spirits” Jimin smiled brightly and devilish directly at you. Your heart dropped a little. Park Jimin usually had the power of making you expose yourself, just because you were hot-headed and argumentative. “Do you all remember that game we played once, where we had to tease each other until one caved in? I mean, now we have a girl, it should be more entertaining.” Oh no. Your boyfriend squeezed your sides.

“I won’t play” you said, crossing your arms. “TaeTae?” But your lover ignored you in favor of smiling at Jimin.

“Why not? Are you afraid, Y/N? Afraid I might steal your man?” Jimin taunted you. He looked at Jungkook, before looking at you again. “Or are you afraid of being teased by Jungkookie?”

“What?!” You were genuinely startled at his insinuation. Another chorus of ‘ohhh’ filled the room. What was going on with these guys? “I’m not. I will play your stupid game.”

“Then, why don’t you sit beside our maknae and start the round?” And Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat. Why was he so pressing about Jungkook? Was it because you snapped back at him earlier? Because of your general distance towards him? Jimin was sadist enough to laugh at his friends struggling; it could be anything.

You got up to sit near Jungkook, not close enough to be in his personal space, though you were expecting him to glare at you as always. But he didn’t. In fact, he looked at you briefly and gave you a small smile. Was he taunting you too?

“Y/N” Jungkook began, starry eyes shiny with drunken glow on yours, equally shiny and glowing. He moved one of your locks behind your shoulder. “Do you still enjoy getting it from behind like you said once?” The question came in a low, low tone, accompanied by a sleazy smile. He started strong but you didn’t budge.

“I do. Wanna try it? Want me to peg you?” You smiled, tilting your head sweetly. Once more, your public reacted in chorus.

“If I get to put something between those two, then yes.” And he ogled at your breast, causing your nipples to harden just a twinge.

“But could you? Won’t you wet your pants just by talking to a woman?” His eyes darkened and you felt the physical need to bit your lip.

“Leave it to me and the only wet things here would be my tongue and you.” A smirk and a wink but with a completely serious tone – like it was an invitation and a promise. The guys went crazy, laughing and shouting things you didn’t get. If you didn’t know better, your alcohol-induced reasoning would tell you that Jungkook was kinda flirting with you. Why was your boyfriend just laughing about it?

“You sure about that? You always look like you don’t know what is a pussy. Want me to show you one and give you a blowie out of pity?” He scoffed, now getting agitated. You tried to ignore how he flexed his muscles and when he tensed his jaw – but it was near impossible to ignore the way he rearranged his bulge mindlessly.

“I do know, baby.” In his growling voice, the pet name sounded almost menacing… and very exhilarating. Deep down you, you wanted to keep hearing him calling you all sorts of names. “And I’m not your boyfriend. A ‘blowie’ is not enough for what I have here.”

“Yah! Don’t bring me into your dumb beach off” your boyfriend complained with a pout. Running out of ideas, you drank the half glass of whiskey that Yoongi left on the coffee table, expecting to get creative once the alcohol got on your bloodstream. You saw Jungkook mirror you with his beer.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you continued. “I’m actually looking at your boner right now and it is very underwhelming.” Jimin cackled at that, the rest of them giggled. Jungkook had the tip of his ears red.

“Let me shut your mouth with it and see if it is that underwhelming,” and he put his big hand on your knee, squeezing. “babygirl.”

You inhaled deeply, because his hand was not only on you. No no, Jungkook played dirty and started stroking your thigh up and down subtlety. Was it bad? Yes, absolutely, because you felt a tingling between your legs and a confusing desire to be touched. But bad enough to accept defeat? Absolutely no. Instead of caving in, you changed strategies: you smiled your seductive smile, and placed your hand softly on his biceps.

“Is it as big as your arms, Jungkookie? You promise to make me choke on it?” His hand on you faltered. Everybody was silent for some reason. “You promise to make me swallow my words while I swallow it?” Those even weren’t the biggest weapons in your arsenal, and yet it had the effect you wanted: Jungkook stood up and almost ran to the bathroom.

“You think he went to jack off?” Hoseok asked Jin, who nodded.

“Yah!” you yelled at them. “Jimin, your game is shit.” You were in serious need of a drink that wasn’t alcohol-based, so you stood up and went to the kitchen, catching a ‘but it was real fun to me’ from Jimin in your way out.

“Looks like you and Jungkookie are having fun together, uh?” your boyfriend said casually, coming behind you. You scoffed.

“If you can call that fun,” you grunted, taking a sip from a random water bottle you found on the counter. You needed anything that could calm you down. “Whatever, at least he seems to be loosing up. I don’t know, he’s a dumbass but I rather have him talking bullshit than to be shy and silent around me.” Taehyung smirked and looked at you intently, as if he was internally laughing at you because of something you don’t know. And you know your boyfriend. He was definitely laughing internally at you because of something you don’t know. You frowned. “What is it?”

“What is what?” Taehyung replied, smirk intact, while getting close enough to you to put every inch of his front against yours and his hands on your waist. Suddenly, the air shifted, and new tensions began arising between your two bodies. Despite being in someone else’s home, you would be lying if you denied how your boyfriend was turning you on.

“Why are you laughing at my expense?” He did laugh at that, eclipsing your clarity for a moment with that beautiful laughter that you adored since the first time.

“I just love your innocence.” His hands ascended under your shirt from their place on your waist to the underside of your boobs, nearly cupping them, making your breath hitch. You were way too conscious of being in Hoseok’s kitchen, looking at the door while Taehyung touched you almost indecently, but his eyes never strayed from your face. “Look what you did, baby: you made me hard at my friends’ gathering with that silly game and your silly, bratty mouth.” And he thrusted a little, so you would feel his fattened and restrained member on you.

As soon as you opened your mouth to cuss at him for his antics, your boyfriend wasted not even a second to put his mouth and yours, dizzying you with a kiss that you doubted was appropriate to experience in someone else’s kitchen. His mouth was way too enthusiastic, his touch all over your body, and you knew it was not leading to a normal quickie. No, he was properly devouring you whole; sucking at your lips, tongue trying to go deeper inside your cavity, hands moving all the way down to knead your ass. You tried wondering what had him so worked up but your mind couldn’t focus on nothing but his tongue in your mouth, deliciously licking everywhere inside – and you had no choice but to reciprocate with the same intensity. You couldn’t judge your boyfriend, because you were just as worked up yourself. Playing with Jungkook was fun at first but then it became serious. And so did the situation in your panties: the moment he put his strong hand on your knee? You felt yourself getting slightly wet, whole core warming… which you knew was completely fucked up. Shame woke you up when Tae’s fingertips went under your skirt and made contact with your inner thigh.

“Taehyung!” you whisper-shouted once you separated from his face, but his hands stayed firmly on your body. “It’s rude to be doing this here.”

“But, baby…” he whined and moved a calculated inch so you could feel his very rigid bulge on your upper thigh. No, as much as you wanted it, it was not right to do it at your friend’s place. You still had some dignity.

“No, seriously, what if someone walks in and sees us like this?” And of course, the universe wanted its turn to laugh at you, because in that exact moment your words were commands. Jungkook entered the kitchen looking at his phone, immediately lifting his head at your words, watching you in all your glorious just-made-out-hotly, lipstick-stained face, boyfriend’s hands under your clothes. He was paralyzed, you were paralyzed, and Taehyung snorted. Not knowing what to do, you just blurted an “I’ll go to the bathroom”, and flew the scene.

…

On the way back home, once the alcohol’s effects wore out, you couldn’t stop thinking about everything that transpired between you and Jungkook. It was mostly playful, none of it insinuating — not even the touch on your knee. And here you were, twisting it for some sort of unconscious reason. Did you like Jungkook? Did you not love Taehyung anymore? How could you be so disgusting? It was undeniable how your body reacted to the maknae, getting weak with nothing more than a simple touch. What kind of girlfriend that made you? The cheating, slutty one for sure. You felt like crying, guilt eating you up fast.

 “You had been very quiet since the thing in the kitchen, love.” Tae mentioned when you left your shoes at his apartment door. You turned around to look at him absently, and he smiled tenderly to you, caressing your face. “Everything alright? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay, baby, it was not that serious. I’m fine.” You lied. Unable to bear the loving look in your boyfriend’s eyes, you turned on your heels and headed towards his room, ready to hide underneath the covers forever. You were so bad at pretending.

The guilt and growing sadness were bad enough that you skipped your skincare, taking your make up off with a wet towel and going to bed on a shirt that was laying around and panties, instead of your precious silk pajama that matched Taehyung’s. By the time your lover got under the covers, you were on your side at the verge of crying, not wanting to see his face or else you would break down right there.

“My angel,” Tae started whispering on your ear. “I don’t know what’s wrong but just know that you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” You have to tell him, your conscience kept urging you. You had to tell him. It was so wrong and you knew it would break his heart, but all the love you had for him was enough motivation to tell the truth.

You shifted and faced him, your whole heart shrinking at the pure love that was on his face. All that love for you. And you ruined it.

As much as you wanted, no words left your mouth, but it was not needed because Taehyung kissed you, slowly, lovingly. It would be the last time, so you decided to enjoy it. You would miss the way he was nipping at your lower lip, probing it with the tip of his tongue for you to give him access. You would miss the way his hands always go directly to massage your breasts, his favorite habit since that one time you told him they were sensitive. You would miss the way he couldn’t resist you, hating to waste time with too much teasing, being the most efficient and desperate lover you had.

In no time, he threw the covers to the edge of the bed, caging you with his thighs between his warm body and the mattress. His mouth left yours to kiss a wet trail towards your neck, nipping and lapping from the spot under your ear to the point where your neck and shoulder met. You whined, because your neck was pretty sensitive too, and it only served to spur him on. He decided that near the base of your neck was a good place for hickies, so he sucked enthusiastically, kitten-licking the tender marks. While his mouth worked on your upper body, his always wandering hand caressed all its way to your panties, took them off in one movement and shamelessly pressed two fingers in your center. You hadn’t realized until that very moment that you were drenched.

“Shit, baby, what has you this wet already?” Taehyung exhaled in a deep, deep voice. Oh no. The spike in your hormones dropped suddenly and your whole body grew cold and rigid. You remembered and the emotions buried you like an avalanche. A sob escaped you, followed by tears and more sobs. “Love, love, wait, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

“I- I can’t tell you. You will hate me…” you mumbled. Taehyung never stopped fondling your folds thru the panties.

“I could never hate you, baby. Not even if you leave me, not even if you fuck my best friend.” You looked at him like a deer in headlights, tensing from head to toe. He picked up the change in your energy and, honestly, deep down, he was enjoying the situation a little, tremendously excited for the surprise he had for you. Despite your reaction, he slowly stroked your folds, soaking his hold hand in your wetness. “Babe? Something to tell me? Maybe that Jungkookie made you wet tonight?” It was not possible to open more your eyes and yet, you did. Your heart was about to explode, scared shitless for being caught.

“N-no, no…” you mumbled, suddenly losing your capacity for communicating. So many things you wanted to say, apologies in every language, and the only thing you could do was to let out tiny tears at the corners of your eyes. To spice things up, Taehyung took the liberty of putting one finger on your clit, drawing circles. You inhaled sharply, electricity running thru every nerve in your body.

“Angel, don’t lie to me. I saw the whole thing. He was after you as he had always been, but our little Jungkookie can’t keep jerking off to the memory of you in a sundress forever, don’t you think?” You gaped at him, partially for his mastered skills on your pussy, partially for all the information he was dropping on you. After you? Always been? The sundress episode?! Your boyfriend gave you The Look: that look that promised to give you something so wicked but oh so fucking good, that you will be on the clouds for days.

He simply smiled at you, as sweet as ever. You sensed something big was about to happen.

“Babe, do you think you could handle both of us? Or is my baby too weak to take two cocks at the same time?” Blank. Nothing. Not even a fleeting, coherent thought crossed your mind. Of all things that could have come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, the most unexpected of them did. You had to ask to yourself in all seriousness if you weren’t hallucinating. Would your boyfriend Kim Taehyung really be up for a threesome? Yes, it was in character with him. With a friend of his? Well, he was a person that relied a lot on trust, so it would obviously be someone he trusted much like a friend. But with Jungkook? You never considered it.

You were too slow to reply to your boyfriend, it seemed, because he took his wet hand off your pussy and slapped you lightly on the thigh. It surprised you but sure took you out of all trance.

“I asked you something, doll. Are you too dumb to reply yes or no?” Oh. Oh. He was getting on that mood, one kink at the time. Generally, his domineering and demeaning attitude were enticing enough to get you going. That night was not exception. You gulped, your heart racing like never before. “Would you want Jungkook to join us or not?” His words were stern but he was the love of your life, you could read him better than anyone on earth, and in his eyes you saw the tenderness and love he always had for you. He wasn’t pressuring you, that was for sure. So, you found the confidence to confess your sins, and to agree to sin even more.

“Yes, Taehyung” you whispered because, how right was admitting out loud that you also wanted Jungkook? Though you couldn’t understand why he was looking for an answer so earnestly. His eyes darkened in no time; an enigmatic smile graced his beautiful face. Why did it feel like you just sold your soul to the devil?

He pressed a desperate kiss on your lips, condensing all the excitement and lust that involved the prospect of a threesome. Holy shit, you thought. He wanted a threesome this bad?

“Baby,” he said, kissing one last time “you just made two men happy, and am sure you are about to give us one hell of a night.” You smiled at him, happy that he was that overjoyed – until you let his words sink.

“About to…?” You frowned and, as always, he just smiled.

“Jungkookie!” your boyfriend yelled loudly; loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.

By instinct only, you looked at the door: lo and behold, the Jeon Jungkook opened it slowly, with his big Bambi eyes looking at the floor and his lower lip between his teeth. Your heart dropped to the first floor of the building. What was happening?

“Yah, Jungkook, did you come to fuck my floor or to fuck my girlfriend?” Your eyes were on your boyfriend on an instant, red all over your face. “Look how pretty she looks, all dumb and lost. And she is so wet already that both of us could slip in right now and she would just take it.” His words weren’t that dirty and yet, your body responded to his voice almost on command. Before Taehyung, you weren’t very fond of dirty talk, but the man made it his mission to find the right combination of words, the right timbre of his voice, that would work on you. And he was always successful on whatever he set his mind on.

You saw Jungkook taking a seat on the loveseat Taehyung kept on his room, diagonal to the bed to have the best view. His eyes were anywhere until they arrived on you, a fire burning on you as soon as you saw the arousal written on his face. Never in your life had you felt so much energy contained in a room, thick and suffocating: the heat of three young people that wanted nothing more than to jump at each other’s bones. You bite your lip, because desperation was overpowering your reason. You needed something, everything, whatever they could give you. You looked at your boyfriend, the only one that knew how to proceed, he looked back.

“Doll, I have to warn you. It’s been so long since Jungkookie wetted his dick that he probably will be like a dog in heat once he gets a taste of your pussy, so brace yourself and whenever you want to stop, we stop, all clear?” You nodded. “Good, all of us will use the color system so we’re all on the same page, do you understand me?” The question was directed at Jungkook, who nodded eagerly. Tae was silent for a moment, clearly thinking, and then he doubled the bet. “Jungkookie, get that seat closer to the bed. Closer. Yeah, right by our side.” And now you had your boyfriend’s best friend right by your side, as if he was about to examinate your body being fucked and needed to pay close attention to details. Well, yeah, that’s what was going to happen.

It was it. Everything was ready and set to start. For some reason, desperation evaporated instantly and nervousness took over your body, hands growing cold and heart jumping like crazy. You had never had someone watching you have sex, much less in a threesome. What if you did something awkward? What if you make him uncomfortable in some way? What if you can’t balance out right and end up giving more attention to Jungkook than your boyfriend? You would prefer to take your eyeballs out and eat them than to make your loverboy believe that you don’t want him. However, just as you read him expertly, so he does you, catching your worries as soon as they appear.

“Babe, you don’t need to worry about anything. This is for you more than for any of us. Just let yourself be, we will do the rest, okay?” You nodded, and the deal was sealed. Tae smiled once more before diving for a deep, wet kiss. It was so dizzyingly good, the expertise he had on kissing. His tongue entered your mouth again for a short time, before making the same path it did before, this time towards your breasts.

“Don’t- don’t take her shirt off” Jungkook stuttered gravelly, out of nowhere. Taehyung smirked at him. You frowned slightly.

“Why? Because you want to see me fuck my girlfriend while she’s wearing your shirt? You’re a pervert, man.” Your heart skipped a beat. Shirt? You went to sleep almost naked in Jungkook’s shirt? Your wide eyes questioned your boyfriend. “Baby, I had never worn that shirt in my life, Jungkookie left it here when he stayed over last week.” Stopping you from overthinking any more, he resumed where he left.

Taehyung had a specific routine for your boobs. Just like in that moment, he would suck lightly here and there, alternating between the two mounds. Then, he would lick one of them to the nipple, blowing air on it and giving you goosebumps, just to hear you whimpering. Finally, he would take the nipple inside his mouth for real; savoring it, licking it with his broad, hot tongue, moistening your chest with the saliva he let drip from time to time. And after he makes sure one of your breasts was as soaked as your panties, he goes for the other one and gives it the same treatment. It was messy and dirty and you both loved it.

This time, as your boyfriend finished one side and went to the other, you made the (lucky) mistake of looking at Jungkook. Damn, if he wasn’t a sight. Legs spread, hands on his inner thighs, and oh, his face. His face was enough to induce anybody into an early cum. He looked shaken already, with lips pink and parted enough to catch a glimpse of the saliva gathering there, clearly wanting to be in the place of your boyfriend; and his dark, lustful eyes were fixated solely on your chest, about to jump on you and feast on your body, nose exhaling shakily. It was the second man in your life that looked at you with such unbridled desire, the first one still entertained on your chest. The maknae must have felt you staring at him because his dark gaze shifted and now fixed on yours.

When did this man turned from the indifferent, jealous guy to this hot, hungry-for-you man? You didn’t know if it was your imagination but it was as if his eyes expressed every thing he wanted to do to you. I want to rip your clothes, you felt he thought, I wanna lick and suck and mark with my spit every inch of your body; I wanna open your legs and bury my head there, drink every drop of your sweet juices, make you come only with my tongue inside you, suck and lick your clit until you pass out but keep cumming; I wanna fuck all your holes, make you cry my name, choke you on my cock while I fuck your mouth so hard and my cum leaks from every hole in your body. Taehyung lifted his hear from your boob.

“Fuck dude, you been watching hentai again? That’s some hardcore shit and you recited it like a love poem. Even I got wet.” Oh, so you weren’t imagining it. Jungkook grew red like the ripest of tomatoes but his stare didn’t waver: his words were all for you to hear. You were… flattered, maybe? Definitely turned on, visualizing already all those things he mentioned. And Tae, the omnipresent-omnipotent boyfriend, noticed. “Babe, no. You won’t be an easy slut yet, not when the owner of this cunt is present.” And his mouth went down south, directly to latch on said pussy, slurping noisily at your drenched folds.

The moan you let out was loud and it didn’t stop, because your boyfriend suctioned just as loud, getting the tip of his tongue on your entrance to tease you. Your pussy tickled intensely, and you got a grip of Taehyung’s locks, pulling, which made him moan too. It was all too good. You could already taste the beginning of a climax…

And you don’t know when it happened but you suddenly felt something hot, fat, and hard on your unoccupied hand. You tensed and opened your eyes just to find Jungkook with his big, glorious cock out in the open, guiding your hand up and down on it. Your eyes connected again for a moment, before he licked his lower lip and threw his head back, moaning too. You could recognize when a guy put on a show for you, and it was exactly that what the man did, with his straining neck and tensed abs – that just now realized were visible, thanks to his open shirt. All this stimulation on you and yet it didn’t feel enough, so you couldn’t help but whine at the two men.

Both of them looked at you at the same time, Tae zeroing on your sloppy handjob with surprise. He now looked at his friend and adjusted his bulge in his pants while he said:

“So, the golden maknae wants to compete? With me? The unbeaten slayer of this pussy? Let’s fucking go.” Oh no, Taehyung was in a playful mood – That only could mean you were going to have a long, long night. Not a breath passed and your boyfriend had a finger up your entrance already and his thumb working on your clit. That angle always got him to that particular nerve on your clit that made you see stars, and what more advantage in their little competition that having you writhing and moaning non-stop. Your body was no longer yours. You accepted this fate happily.

Your eyes were closed when you felt a different shape on your left hand – the one that was on Jungkook. You looked at him just in time to see him take your wrist and pulling your hand away from his balls, getting your palm near his face so he could spit on it, and then taking it back to fondle his testicles. Your breath caught in your throat and warmth spread all over your chest. It was the new hottest thing you have seen in your life. Jungkook only smiled proudly at you.

Taehyung, who was also watching the spit show, scoffed and dived between your legs. His tongue accompanied his finger inside you, going out to lap at your clit here and there. One long finger became two, then three and all of them scissored, opening you up more and more until you could take those fingers and his thick tongue easily. One particular lick made you flex all your muscles, your left hand closing tight on Jungkook’s cock. You groaned, he sucked in a breath, your boyfriend slurped noisily again.

“Angel,” Taehyung began, sitting on his hunches. You felt more wetness dripping as you ogled at him in all his pussy-eating glory. Face soaked, hair disheveled, eyes in ectasis. He even licked his lips, collecting the juices you left on him. “do you think you could take more?” You nodded in a heartbeat. “Okay, so go suck Jungkookie’s cock while I get your pussy ready, alright?” This time, he didn’t spare you even one second to think before maneuvering you on your hands and knees, the maknae sitting on your bed and your head hanging over his red tip. Your boyfriend caressed your asscheeks from behind, getting a mewl from you and slapping you hard right away. “Get to work, slut.” Following his words, he licked a long strip from your clit to your wrinkled asshole.

But you still didn’t get to work on Jungkook, so your boyfriend gripped your hair from behind and pushed your head down, making you engulf the meaty length in front of you in one go. You choked, of course, gurgling and trying to swallow with a closed-up throat. The grip on his member made Jungkook moan and put his hand on your head, to keep you in place. You relaxed a little, allowing a smoother slide of him in your mouth, now taking control and hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue swirled around the whole diameter of his beefy cock, which was bigger and heavier than you initially thought, and then suctioned hard. The tip of your tongue teased his slit and the sides of his head, salivating more and more the longer you had him in your mouth. You guessed the maknae liked your blowjob technique because he seemed uncapable of stopping whining and writhing.

“Jungkookie” your boyfriend sing-sang suddenly. The maknae was barely able to maintain his eyes on him. “Tell me how is my baby doing. Do you like it? She sucks cocks like a champ.” It was difficult with his member buried to the hilt in your face but you still made an attempt to look up at the man. His eyes found yours and you felt more precum dribble inside your mouth. “But you seem too shy still. Why don’t you try living up your fantasies and fuck her mouth? I promise, she was born to take cocks.” You could feel Taehyung’s hands spreading open your buttcheeks, and then his tongue flitting over your puckered hole. Your breath caught in you and you had to let go of the dick to moan loud and long.

“You, uh – you focus on me, Y/N” Jungkook stumbled upon his own words, but didn’t waste time in taking your head with his two hands and pushing you down onto him again, which you gladly accepted. He tried snapping his hips up slightly, making you moan and send vibrations on his cock. That’s all he needed to fuck up into your mouth again, making you gag, eyes watering. “Yeah, fuck” he breathed out while speeding up his hips. Cock pushing your jaw wide open, you mewled as much as you could, enjoying the rough treatment and encouraging the man to give you more. “Shit, hyung, her mouth is amazing.”

“I told you, and wait until you taste her pussy” your boyfriend replied, voice low and raspy and touching your pussy in that same manner. With no warning, Taehyung’s cock prods a few times at your entrance before he thrusts in, pushing all air out of you. It was intense, your insides pulsing with the girth and length of your boyfriend’s member, and then the cock in your mouth throbbed too. “Talk to her, JK, she loves it.” He grabbed you by your hair again, yanking you up until you were face to face with his best friend. “Especially if you tell her what a filthy slut she is, and all the bad things you are going to do to her.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook started, looking directing into your soul. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna drink it and say thank you, ok?” He sounded so serious that chills covered your whole body, and his command was so hot but he gave you no time to dwell on it because he shoved his cock in you.

“Bravo!” Taehyung celebrated with a rough snap of his hips into you. You gobbled the cock as much as he allowed you, which wasn’t much with the speed and harshness of his thrusts into your face. “Aww, doll, we found a good use for you as our cumdump, isn’t that lovely? Jk, make the honors of creampieing her mouth.” And he fucks up into you hard, making you move forward and choke on Jungkook. The stretch burns deliciously and you can’t help but moan, throat tight and vibrating on the cock you were sucking.

Jungkook cums at that, releasing ropes and ropes on your mouth while still fucking into it. The movements difficulted your swallowing, so most of it leaked from the corners of your lips. He whined at the sounds of you gargling. And in the heat of the moment, the maknae said:

“Yeah, fuck, slobber it all up, slut. You love being filled with cum until it spills, don’t you? That’s all what whores like you are for, anyways.” In an instant, your boyfriend, who kept fucking you frantically from behind, yanks you up with a hand around your neck until your back arched against his chest. From that angle, his cock reached new places inside you, making you scream and spill the remnants of Jungkook’s cum you didn’t get to swallow. Tae got close enough to your ear to suck at your lobe. It all was so overwhelming, you had to close your eyes.

“Come on, baby. Are you going to be an ungrateful bitch or are you going to thank JK for cleansing your disgusting mouth?” He took your jaw and moved it so you were facing down.

You opened your eyes to catch a glimpse of Jungkook moving towards you, but your brain couldn’t process anything until you felt his mouth on your clit. With every thrust, Taehyung grinded you over his best friend outstretched tongue, who moaned eagerly. Seeing you forgot what he just said, your boyfriend gave you a particularly harsh thrust, which made your whole pussy smash on the broad expanse of the tongue working on you. You screamed.

“Say thank you, you fucking whore. Are you that stupid that a little fuck breaks you?” You whimpered.

“Thank you, Jungkook” you said shakily, and that devil of a man smiled up devilish at you, before nibbling and sucking at your clit. And you came, squirting like a faucet right on the maknae’s face and neck.

“Holy fuck!” Jungkook exclaimed, lower part of his face drenched and dripping from the chin. His pupils were blown out, looking bigger and more menacing than ever before.

Your body lost all strength, becoming jelly in Taehyung’s arms, who didn’t stop assaulting your pussy. You tried squeezing your walls to bring him closer to climax, but the man had way too much endurance.

Instead of slowing down or getting sloppy, Tae descended on his ass, taking you with him to the bed head and accommodating you on his lap. While his cock was still into you, he moved you around like a rag doll so he could fold you in half, his hands coming under your thighs and lifting them, knees hooked on his forearms easily. He’s got you spread wide open, showing Jungkook how his cock went in and out of your dripping cunt. You wanted to whine and complain about overstimulation, but the reality was that the friction of Tae’s long and thick cock was so delectable that you felt a second release nearing already.

Jungkook’s eyes stared brazenly the place where you and Taehyung were connected, entranced by the easy slide in and out in your moistened pussy. Carefully, he put his hand on your used folds, stroking reverently the flesh all around where his best friend’s member was, and then his thumb went to your clit. You exhaled his name. He, in return, slapped your pussy.

“What a filthy bitch, moaning other man’s name while your boyfriend is fucking you” he reprimanded you, fingers still on your wetness. He shifted forward a little to be aligned with your pussy so he could spit on it, watching his saliva running down and disappearing between your folds and Tae’s cock. You moaned again. This time, it was Taehyung who reprimanded you with a harsh slap on your ass.

“Is playing with your pussy all it takes for you to let anybody use you? Stupid slut, offering your loose cunt to Jungkookie, dirtied and sloppy with your own juices. You’re too filthy, baby, we will have to cleanse you.” Then, your boyfriend unhooked your leg from his arm, and went to hold your jaw, turning you to face him, and dived in as if to kiss you – but before descending on you, he put pressure to make you open your mouth and just then let a dribble of saliva drop into your awaiting tongue. “Don’t swallow” he commanded, before offering your open cavity to Jungkook to do the same as him. The other man spitted with force, and got close enough to suck your lower lip into his mouth while Tae controlled you still. Your pussy throbbed and tightened on your boyfriend.

But they didn’t stop there. As your boyfriend went down on your neck and sucked and lapped sloppily, Jungkook went to your chest, dribbling more and more of his spit on your breasts, before capturing your nipples and nibbling them. You were so lost in the mess they were making of you that you almost miss the sensation of something tapping at the hole that was already filled.

You look down and can perfectly see the way Jungkook’s tip was pushing between your folds and Taehyung’s dick, like waiting for an invitation in. Even in the heat of the moment, you realized that maybe it was too much to fit the two of them inside you, looking at the girth of their cocks, and you panicked.

“It won’t be like that, don’t worry” your boyfriend, who sensed right away your worry, whispered in your ear. You relaxed, trusting him with your life.

Next thing you knew was that he lifted you from his cock, just to take your hand and make you guide Jungkook inside you. Your insides couldn’t stop throbbing; he was a little shorter than Tae but his girth, god damn, it barely could fit inside, even with your pussy as loose as your boyfriend’s own beefy cock made you. It took you a moment but as soon as he started thrusting, you moaned uncontrollably. Now you understood their plan: they took turns fucking into you, thrusting up a couple times before taking their cocks out and letting the other fuck your hole. You were really getting used by them as a mere hole to share, which was incredibly turning on.

All of you were reaching your peaks, movements growing erratic and wild. At some point, Jungkook took his cock out of you and started thrusting into his own hand, precum still falling over your mound. Taehyung was almost there, and so were you, both of you needing one last little thing to tip you over the edge.

“Jungkook.” The richness of your lover’s voice made you tremble. You didn’t realize you had your eyes close, but once you open them, you find Jungkook scooting over, his lips getting closer and closer to yours. Just when you thought he was about to kiss you, he goes past you, and you get to watch the single hottest image you had ever seen: Jungkook went in and kissed Taehyung. And at that same time, Jungkook’s tip nudged its way inside you, besides Tae’s cock.

You came like never before, so hard that all your lights went out.

…

You open your eyes once you hear whispering around you. First, you realize you’re on your bed, underneath the fluffy covers you love. Then, you realize you’re sandwiched between two strong, warm bodies (which makes you feel kinda giddy inside). You focus your gaze on the face in front of you. It’s your boyfriend, smiling as always.

“Hi, love” he says sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? Like you came back from heaven after being killer by a sixteen-wheeled truck running over you. Your body ached all over from exerting so much energy trying to keep up with your boyfriend, but it brought you so much pleasure that you still felt the vanishing ripples of your orgasm swirling in your insides.

“I’m okay” you simply responded. From behind you, you felt a warm body molding to yours, his arms hugging your hips lightly and his face nuzzling into your hair.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook sweetly asked in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps.

“It was all for you, love. Jungkookie sure put you in the spot at Hobi’s place, he had to make it better somehow.” You looked at your boyfriend and then at the other man over your shoulder. Before saying anything, you lay on your back, so you could watch and talk to both of them at the same time.

“I liked it, but I don’t know how to feel about it. What if I said no? Would you have just stood in front of our door, listening to us have sex?”

“No,” Jungkook answered instantly. “I was in the hallway; you can’t hear much from there. If Taehyung didn’t call for me after some time, I would just go home.”

“So you don’t hate me anymore?”

“Hate you?” both men exclaimed simultaneously. Was it that surprising? It’s all you felt from Jungkook since always. Taehyung laughed joyously.

“Baby, I think I never told you in what circumstances I started dating you.” You arched an eyebrow to your boyfriend. He smirked. “Jungkookie and I had to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who asked you out first.” They WHAT? “I won and Jungkookie had to eat my shit. But you’re too damn hot for your own good, dear, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you – because I can’t neither.” The explanation should have cleared up any doubts you had but if anything, it birthed more questions. All these times you thought Jungkook hated you were just him concealing his desires poorly?

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. I tried my best to be distant so you wouldn’t get mistaken and think I wanted to steal you from Tae. I like you but would never try to break you two apart.” You saw pure sincerity in his doe eyes. Though you were incredibly confused, you decided to believe his words, because you knew he was a good guy after all. And he loved his friends more than anything, that was for sure. Unexpectedly, his hand came up to caress the side of your face tenderly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” You wanted to say no, for your boyfriend’s sake; but he was the one that took your hand in his and squeezed it supportively, murmuring a ‘do it’ under his breath.

You got close to Jungkook, who couldn’t waste even a second more and crashed his soft lips on yours. He kissed you urgently, like a man that had been thirsty for so long and just now had a drop of refreshing water. He savored your lips, your taste, and sucked your lip sensually. Soon enough, his tongue entered your mouth, and fire burned in your lower half. Your body still ached but the open-mouth kisses that your boyfriend left on your neck got you ready for more in no time.

“Now let us make love to you, dear” Taehyung exhaled against your skin, while Jungkook got his hand under your panties and his lips on your collarbone. “Let us show you how much we adore you.”

How could you say no to that?

[bubblyi3]

Between Us, Before Us | KTH

“she wasn’t just his best friend. she was the version of me he didn’t have to answer to.”

pairing: taehung x female reader

genre: slice of life, angst, fluff

word count: 1.6k

content warning: angst, mild smut, trauma, cheating themes, unplanned pregnancy, heartbreak, toxic relationship, time jump here and there, trauma bond

summary: between the past and future lies the aching space of now. with taehyung, you've journeyed through love, heartbreak, and growth. once strangers, then lovers, now something more complicated, your connection is shaped by time, mistakes, and second chances. this is the story of who you were when you first fell for him, who you became through the pain, and who you might still become if you dare to hope again. in the space between healing and longing, one thing remains: him.

author's note: after a long time contemplating if i should get back into my writing era. i've been missing it so this is for anyone who has felt alone. hope you guys enjoy!

© disclaimer: please do not copy, translate or reproduce any part of this work without my permission. thank you!

playlist:

supercut - lorde

hit me where the heart is - mega simone

the cut that always bleeds - conan gray

undressed - sombr

*fiction rooted in real emotions and experiences.

PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || FINALE

The lights of the city shimmered in the distance, casting a warm glow across the darkening sky. You stood there, watching the world move on as you took a deep breath, your hand gently holding Nora's. So much had changed, some of it painful, some of it liberating. But as you looked at her daughter, whose smile was soft and innocent, you realised that the most important part of this journey wasn’t the pain or the broken pieces, it was the healing, the growth, and the hope that came after.

You had lived a life shaped by other people’s expectations, by the idea of what you thought love was supposed to be. The hard lessons taught you that love was never about sacrifice or losing oneself for someone else. True love was about standing strong in one’s truth, finding peace within, and building a future that felt whole.

Looking at Nora, you knew that you had made the right choice. You've let go of the past, and with it, the belief that love could be anything less than real and fulfilling. The journey wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect. But it was yours.

This was the beginning of a new chapter, one where you would be the author of your own story.

You were seventeen when Kim Taehyung first stepped into your world. Not through fate, or fireworks, or some cliché hallway run-in. It started with a school project.

You were in your final year of high school, buried in the chaos of final year exams, when your Media Studies class was assigned the task of creating a short film. Your project partner, Nari, was everything you weren’t, she was bold, chatty, and always two steps ahead of deadlines. She already had an aesthetic in mind, a vibe for the film, and most importantly, someone in mind to play your lead.

“Kim Taehyung” she said, without hesitation. “He’s perfect. Everyone loves him, and he’s got the kind of energy that’ll pop on camera.”

Of course you knew who he was. Everyone did. Taehyung floated through school like a beam of light. Funny, charming, always surrounded by friends. He wasn’t the brooding mystery type. He was loud, loveable, and always in the middle of something. Teachers liked him. Guys relied on him. Girls either had a crush on him or a story about him.

You were quieter. Observant. Focused on school and your tiny circle of friends who preferred long lunch breaks under the trees over parties. You existed in the same building, the same hallways, maybe even the same assemblies, but that was it. You had zero connection to him. No shared friend groups, no classes together. You knew of each other, the way everyone does in high school where lives brush shoulders but rarely collide. He was orbiting in a totally different world, until Nari pulled him into yours.

“He already said yes,” she announced casually, like she hadn’t just flipped the script of your entire semester. “He’s keen. I told him you’d be directing.”

That Friday after school, he showed up. Sweatshirt slung over one shoulder, long socks pulled up just below his knees, a lazy grin on his face. He carried a confidence that didn’t feel like arrogance, just ease. He greeted the room like he’d been there before, even though he hadn’t.

“You must be Y/N,” he said.

“Excited to be bossed around by you.” He added.

You smiled back, pretending to be unfazed. “Only if you take direction well.”

And just like that, he was in. Not just in the project, but in your world. He brought energy to the room, made everyone laugh during takes, and took his role seriously in a way you hadn’t expected. He lingered after the others left. Made jokes only you would catch. Asked about your weekend, your favorite films, your goals after graduation. Things that felt too small to mean anything and yet, they did.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he said one afternoon as the group packed up the equipment. “Not many people are.”

And maybe that’s how it started. Not with fireworks or some dramatic scene, but with quiet moments. With glances that lasted a little too long and conversations that stretched past the final bell.

At seventeen, you don’t always know when something important is beginning.

But looking back now, that film project was the start of everything. Not just a story you captured on camera, but one that would replay in your life again and again, long after the credits rolled. And while you thought you were the director of that film, life would prove otherwise.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon when Taehyung asks you out, but it isn’t just any ordinary day. You’re hanging out with one of your best friends, Nari, and her boyfriend at the time. You roam around town, spending the afternoon taking in the sights. You spend the afternoon by the Han River, the peaceful flow of the water and the city skyline giving you a sense of calm, the breeze lightly tousling your hair. You’ve always been a little afraid of heights, but today, it doesn’t matter. You’re more focused on the company than the view.

Taehyung is there, too. It’s been a few weeks since you finished the school project. Since then, you and Taehyung have spent more time together, texting, hanging out, and talking late into the night. But today feels different. There’s an unspoken tension between you two, something that buzzes in the air like static electricity. The kind of tension you don’t know how to name, but you feel it deep in your gut.

You’d wander through the city, checking out little shops, grabbing coffee, and just being you.

But when you find a bench outside one of the parks, everything seems to quiet down. It’s just the two of you. Taehyung has been acting strange all afternoon. Fidgety, lost in his own thoughts, like there’s something he’s waiting to say but can’t quite figure out how.

You have your suspicions. Is he going to talk about something serious? Is he having family issues, or is it something to do with his friends? You can’t help yourself, you have to ask.

Is it about family or friends?” you ask casually, trying to avoid the nerves building up in your chest.

Taehyung pauses, glancing down at the ground, his lips pressed tight as if he’s debating whether or not to say what’s on his mind. For a second, you think he might change the subject, but then he looks up, his eyes locking with yours.

“Y/N…” he begins, his voice wavering slightly. “No. It’s about you.”

You blink, your heart suddenly hammering in your chest.

“About me?” you ask, trying to sound calm, but you can feel the heat rushing to your face. This is it. The moment you’ve been expecting, but not prepared for.

He lets out a breath, as if he’s gathering the courage to say the words that have been stuck in his throat. You can see the internal struggle on his face, and you want to reach out, to tell him that whatever he’s about to say, it will be okay. Not going to lie, but you’re getting impatient by the second.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says again, his voice soft but steady. “I… I really like you. And I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I think you’re incredible, and I don’t want to mess this up, but I want to ask you something… Will you be my girlfriend?”

His words hang in the air for a long, breathless moment.

You’re caught off guard. Completely and utterly surprised. You knew that something had been building between you two, but you never expected him to be this direct. This honest with you. And the truth is, you don’t know what to say. Part of you wants to jump up and down, excited that he feels the same way. But another part of you, the one that’s spent years living by the rules, hesitates. Your parents would never approve of you being in a relationship before finishing school. They’ve always drilled into you the importance of education before everything else. The idea of having a boyfriend, especially one like Taehyung, with his outgoing personality and the way everyone seems to love him, feels so… complicated.

He’s watching you intently, waiting for your response.

You take a deep breath. The weight of everything. The fear, the excitement, the uncertainty settles in your chest. It feels like a big step, something you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for, but you can’t deny how you feel when you’re around him. How easy it is to be yourself.

“I like you too… and yes,” you finally whisper, the words surprising you as much as they do him.

Taehyung’s face lights up immediately, his eyes wide in disbelief, like he hadn’t expected you to like him back. You laugh nervously, feeling a wave of relief and uncertainty wash over you at the same time.

“Really?” he asks, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You nod, your heart racing. “Yeah.”

Without saying another word, Taehyung grabs your hand, and you both head for the nearest pizza place. The smell of cheese and freshly baked dough fills the air as you sit down, but all you can focus on is the fact that you’ve just agreed to be with Taehyung. Here you are, holding his hand across the table, sharing a pizza and smiling like it’s the most normal thing in the world. But deep down, you know this is anything but normal. This is a new beginning.

And as you glance at Taehyung, you can’t help but wonder what the next chapter of your story will bring.

[kooksbunnnn]

HOLD MY HAND- 1

Series masterlist

Pairing: Taehyung× fem!reader

Warnings for the chapter: slightly suggestive, fluff, kissing, making out, 18+

Summary: You and Taehyung exploring and experiencing the newer side to yourselves while getting to know each other more intimately and deeply in your new relationship.

Authors note: EEEEEEEEE! NEW SERIES! ENJOY EVERYONE! and dw guys, the word count might increase in the upcoming updates! _______________________________________

"...you good?"

Taehyung shakes his head as he tries to focus on your voice again. He clears his throat and hums. "Yea-yeah- I'm good." Rolling your eyes with a small smile on your face, you continue blabbing about your day to him.

Sighing taehyung tried to listen to you, to your ranting, he tries, trust him, he does, but the way your lips glow under the light makes his mind wander. Wander to places he can't put words to because it's too early for him to dive into all that in your relationship.

Fuck he missed kissing you the whole day.

As you sit on his lap and excitedly tell him about how your friend used to braid her boyfriend's hair, you flick the hair that falls from his forehead, and he almost shivers at the touch. He smiles as you trace his features, letting the warmth of your fingers seep in his skin.

His eyes zoned into the deliciousness that your lips were. He wanted to kiss you so bad. He could kiss you again and again, and he won't ever get tired. He could make out with you all day and never miss social interactions with others, not like it matters to him when he has you in his arms.

"Baby.." he mutters, and you pause animatedly while telling something.

"Hm?"

"..can I kiss you? You can continue after that.." he whispers huskily while he leans in before you could respond to his question. His hands reach up to cup your face as one rests on your lower back to support you in his lap.

As his lips touched yours, he groaned, feeling the gloss smudge in between your lips, he licks your lips and smiled at the cherry flavor. Your giggle makes his grip on your back tighten as his hand from your face reaches into your hair.

Kissing you hungrily, he leans forward, making you grip his shoulders as you feel your body bend backward. Feeling your grip, he pulls you closer to him as if it was even possible. "I wont drop- ah- drop you.." he pants against your lips, and you breathlessly nod.

"I know.." You mumble into his lips, with lidded eyes, and as he pulls you back into him, kissing you again, he chuckles with a smirk on his face, "fuck what're you doing to me.." He whispers to himself more than he does to you as he feels his control slip through his fingers.

The moment you giggle at his whisper, he switches his rational side of his brain for a few minutes and tugs onto your hair, knowing that his hands in your hair melts you like putty in his hands. You gasp, giving him better access to your mouth and your toes curl at the wet kisses he gives, licking and nipping and sucking just the way he knows you like and he loves.

You groan, feeling his tongue bully his way into your mouth, and he chuckles when you try to dominate his tongue with yours. He smacks your ass at your sad way of trying to take charge. Your eyes widen at his action. Heat creeps up your neck as you've never experienced this side of him before.

"Not today, baby. Try some other day.." he says, chuckling a throaty chuckle and your cheeks heat up with embaressment at how you liked the burn you feel on your ass cheek. He coos at your blush making you squirm in his hold.

You both used to talk about all this, but the experience, while sitting on his lap, was totally something else. Mindfucking would be an understatement.

"Ohh... you liked that? My dirty little girlfriend, huh?" He says, caressing the side he spanked, and you whine trying to hide your head into his neck, but he doesn't let you, pulling on your hair in the way that makes your eyes roll back.

He smacks the same spot and squeezes your ass cheek with a rough chuckle. You groan, feeling yourself get wetter with every second. "Tae.." You whine as you feel your ears get warm.

"No hiding, baby." he says so gently and nips at your jaw it mames your head spin, his voice makes a shiver run up your spine, and you shut your eyes as you feel yourself getting hotter by the second. Smiling when he sees the swollen lips open, breathing heavily, chest heaving as he nastily licks a stripe up your neck.

Pulling you back in, he kisses you so good and sloppy that has you mewling on his lap. He feels your gloss smudging all over his lips, creating a sticky mess. He loves that. The way he can make your poised self turn into a messy little piece of art makes him so hard.

"Babe- babe- air -" You try to speak in the middle of his kisses. He just laughs, that deep laugh that makes your toes curl.

"Sorry.." he says, pulling back and fixing your hair gently, rubbing his thumb on your spit covered, kiss-bitten, swollen, and glossy lips. "Continue. How was your day, doll?" He whispers, and you chuckle breathlessly at how this man could say all that with such a straight face while being so hard under you. You dont even remember your last conversation, this newer side of your relationship, and Taehyung making you giddy.

Fuck, you missed kissing him the whole day. ♡________________________________________♡

Chapter 2

HELLO EVERYONE! So, I have started a new series based on short and tiny stories of Taehyung and fem!Reader where we would know the fluffy, angsty, and spicy parts of both of these cuties' new relationship. Give them lots of love and let me know if you want me to write some scenerios, requests are always welcome🩷 I am finally trying to write with a concentrated mind so I hope I dont disappoint you and also finish my other WIPs. Thank you for all your love, I love my readers sm, they give me so much motivation, and I cant thankyou all enough. I love you all. See you in the next update!

-Sam♡

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend. 

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung. 

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are. 

For the fun day as you’ve called it. 

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling. 

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his. 

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh. 

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun. 

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids. 

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars. 

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all. 

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you. 

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between. 

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at. 

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually. 

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl. 

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again. 

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again. 

In autumn, too. 

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there. 

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together. 

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties. 

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country. 

The reason behind this fun day. 

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him. 

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.” 

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet. 

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before. 

It is a step forward. 

It’s something that tells you: go ahead. 

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again. 

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo. 

“Jimin will meet us at the park.” 

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out. 

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own. 

Your smile falls. 

Jazz bar it is. 

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick. 

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision. 

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that. 

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing. 

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave. 

Right. 

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing. 

That color is a legacy. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror. 

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb. 

Magical realism in full effect. 

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so. 

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune. 

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken. 

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend. 

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him. 

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink. 

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands. 

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.” 

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all. 

Strange. 

You shake off the thought. 

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.” 

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it. 

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.” 

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.” 

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning. 

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department. 

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.  

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder. 

You blink. “Nothing.” 

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves. 

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you. 

A strange feeling seizes you. 

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily. 

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed. 

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment. 

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime. 

The pretentious kind, but in a good way. 

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away. 

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything. 

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips. 

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.” 

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand. 

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection. 

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor. 

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing. 

Still and unbreathing. 

Frozen. 

You halt your movements. 

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong. 

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat. 

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.” 

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.” 

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing. 

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you. 

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?” 

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again. 

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer. 

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one. 

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile. 

No Taehyung behind Jimin. 

No Taehyung behind you. 

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks. 

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question. 

“Did you see him at the park, too?” 

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth. 

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.” 

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant. 

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all. 

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization. 

“What has happened to you?” 

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t. 

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn. 

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t. 

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn. 

It’s you who’s frozen this time. 

Still and unbreathing. 

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip. 

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.” 

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?” 

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly. 

“Three months.” 

A beat of silence. 

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors. 

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness. 

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.” 

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours. 

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart. 

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you. 

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained. 

Jimin, your best friend, too. 

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?” 

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly. 

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.” 

And he does. 

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that. 

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips. 

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago. 

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | read part two