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jinnfires · 5 years ago

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To Want To Be Loved II

Summary: years of suffering weigh on your chest like a dead body. You can't move it no matter how you try. No one would love a corpse, but even the dead deserve to want to be loved.

Part 1

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Sujin sat beside you till late into the evening, the idea of going to class being long since discarded.

You weren't fast. You couldn't narrate your life like some story. It was anything but a story, it was real. A story could be manipulated. You could be a princess. You could be happy. You could have a loving family and prince in shining armor that loved you and shielded you from all the problems in the world.

This wasn't a story. It wasn't a nightmare. You woke up from bad dreams. There was an end. There wasn't an end to yours.

You started out with the night before, working your way to the day it all started. You became vague when you talked about the meetings with your father. There was something about saying things out loud that made them all the more real. It was almost like you were outside your body, hearing all the terrible things that happened, pitying yourself. It was self desperation as much as it was self deprecation.

Sujin didn't ask any questions. She let you speak. She heard you.

But you didn't finish your story. She didn't force you to.

"You're staying at my house. It's just my brother and I. I won't tell anyone anything but I can't let you go back to that house."

You didn't particularly feel like going anyways, after what happened with Namjoon. Then your memory started to move. You hadn't told Sujin what you had said to Yoongi, what Jimin had heard you say. You couldn't take her offer with that on your conscience.

"The reason Namjoon got mad at me -"

You couldn't continue. The look in Sujin's eyes as she stared at you. The sympathy and love, would it go away? Like it had with Sarah, would it disappear? Would she leave you like Namjoon? Was she here to stay?

You should get it out of the way now. You didn't know what Sujin would say, but it was better she leave you now than in a world she becomes too important to let go. That would ruin you.

"I made vulgar comments about Yoongi, and may have made comments about him fucking you."

You shut your eyes, holding yourself in your arms, trying to reciprocate the warmth.

"Yoongi already told me."

You looked up. Sujin had a pained look in her eye as she turned toward you. She had been given the run down of the situation. Of how terrible your day was between seeing your father, being left by Sarah, trying to help only to mess up and be ripped on by Yoongi, then to have your brother cut you out of his life, along with everything you've been dealing with. Sujin couldn't fix you by yelling at you, too many people have tried already. But she could help you by being there for you, which you've never let anyone do. She wouldn't turn her back on you.

"I'm not okay with the things you said to Yoongi. His relationship with his parents, his fear of following his passion, his fear of disappointment. It is still pain to him. People in pain have a tendency to hurt others, be it Yoongi with you, or you with Yoongi. The way your brother and his friends perceive you is what you've led them to believe. You can't push them away and still expect them to be there for you, but opening up isn't something someone can do overnight. I am in no way blaming you for anything. I just want you to understand that none of them are terrible people. They are compassionate and understanding. You shouldn't try to get the trust and comfort from people like Sarah, or from shopping, but rather the people who might actually give a damn if you let them."

You turned away from her, understanding her words. But that wasn't the only reason you kept everything from them. Namjoon idolized his father and his mother. If he were to ever find out what kind of man his father really was, if he were to find out that his mother cheated on his father and had you, you would really lose him then. Your father had spent six years drilling this into your head to the point you actually believed Namjoon would hate you, maybe even treat you like your father. He made you believe it was all your fault, that you didn't deserve help or happiness, you were already happy.

"You're already happy, see?" Your father pulled your head up by your hair, the reflection of your cum stained lips, dead teary eyes, and destroyed appearance met your broken gaze. He'd rap a hand around your neck and begin to choke you while you slid your hand up and down his cock, if you went too fast, he would squeeze harder, if you went too slow, he would squeeze tighter. He'd make you watch yourself in the mirror, screaming words into your ear. You were twelve.

"Y/n?" Sujin snapped you out of your thoughts.

She had driven you to her place. The large white manor looked so bright, even in the night. It made you almost feel like you were being taken to a mental asylum. Your grip tightened on the edge of the seatbelt.

A figure stood outside at the front door, the pathway lights illuminating the white marble base he stood on. Jimin had his hands tucked into his pocket, watching the car as it came to a stop.

You felt nervous. You hadn't spoken to him or anyone, other than Sujin, about your mental breakdown. The feelings roared in you as you realized you didn't want Jimin to see you like this, so messed up, so broken.

You pulled your large black hood over your head, covering your matted frizzed curls and eyes. Sujin watched as you applied a thin coat of red lipstick, but she didn't say anything. You already knew what she was thinking. Pathetic. That's what you thought every single time you attempted to patch up pieces of yourself.

She let you finish, opening the door to your side moments after you set the concealer down. For once in your life, you didn't want to see Jimin or even be near him, but Sujin's arm slipped into yours. She leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Act drunk."

You turned to look at her, confused, but she just squeezed your palm. You decided to go along with it for now and ask questions later. You could probably already piece some of the story his sister made up together. ‘Y/n is drunk, again. I couldn’t just leave her. She’s just a minor.’ The whole spiel. Wonders how they thought you were safer inside your own home than outside of it.

The moment the heel of your boot touched the ground, you began to wobble and bob your head drunkenly. A few obscene shouts and rude shoves towards Sujin as she dragged you up the stairs seemed appropriate, but it was enjoyable to see her struggle so hard with your small frame. You thought with her extra height she would have the muscle to back it up. She didn’t, which must suck for her, but she was the one who fabricated a drunk-y/n episode out of thin air. Too bad she didn’t know how good of an actor you were. No one did.

Jimin stood at the top of the tall white steps near the entrance of the house, his hands in his pockets as he quietly watched his sister struggle up the last few set of steps in her muddied butterfly Jordans. His hair was slightly tussled, almost like he had just gotten out of bed. Park Jimin sleeps early? What a good boy. You honestly found that adorable. He had on a shirt, which looked too pristine and untouched to seem like he had slept in it. Your eyes peeked at his joggers, wondering if he only slept shirtless.

“Hey Daddy, want to see how a drunk girl gives a blow job?” You lazily slurred out, loosing your balance near the last step of the entrance right in front of him. He didn’t catch you like you expected. Sujin, however, seemed to grab you right in time to save you a small fall just to your knees.

“Seems like I’m already in the perfect position.” You giggled at the amusing circumstances. You had been offering Jimin a very promising blow job for the last year and a half. He hadn’t seemed to take you up on it. You had originally done it to seal up your slut portfolio to... cover up some tracks over something Sujin had seemed to catch on your uniform Sophomore year. She didn’t know your father liked to mark his things. It might seem crazy, but you seemed to fall more in love each time he refused you. It made it feel like you weren’t disgusting enough to be taken advantage of. Also, if he had accepted, you honestly wouldn’t have known how to give him one when your experiences had been while you were mostly passed out. A few sleeping pills and vodka shots usually got your through the rougher patches when he was more demanding.

Sujin helped you up, ushering you through the large double doors. Your eyes never left his, even if he wasn’t looking at you. Even if he didn’t think you were worthy of his gaze. He wasn’t wrong, but it still hurt. But in some fantasy world, where you were just a normal teenage girl who was friend’s with his sister, would he have looked at you differently? Could he have loved you?

“Jimin, I can’t carry her up all those steps.” Sujin looked at her brother with pleading eyes. Jimin’s stoic expression was stagnant. He was always so austere, but there was this inexplicable easiness and aura around him that made him the magnet he was to you. He was full of soft hidden smiles and playfulness which you only got peaks of. Sujin seemed to have it her whole life.

Some sort of stalemate was reached through their staring contest, one which resulted in Jimin looking you square in the eye. His warm brown chocolate orbs were like balls of sunshine and fire on the darkest says of December. His gaze was intense enough to make your forget how to breathe. Why was he looking at you? Sujin gestured towards the stair then back at her brother. It took you a moment to figure out that Jimin, was in fact, asking you for permission to carry you up the stairs. Butterflies in your stomach turned into a frenzy of bees, stinging and buzzing your insides. Jimin was asking you for permission before touching you. No one has very asked for permission. This was treading on dangerous grounds. He has just ejected your heart from the passenger seat of a chopper. Your heart was going to burst on impact. Was this why women swooned? Because you could see yourself swooning all the way down the entrance steps.

Your heart thudded in anticipation as he walked himself towards you. If you had been drunk, this would have instantly sobered you up. The few seconds it took him to walk to your side stretched out for hours in your head. It seemed like ages when he was beside you, yet it seemed so instant, like you had not even the slightest idea of how to process this. His left hand grazed the back of your jacket, his touch sending jolts of electricity down your spine. His right hand grasped the back of your knees, the feeling of weightlessness hitting you moments later like a roar in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but instinctively lay your head against his hard chest, childish high pitched giggles uncharacteristically leaving your lips. You really did seem drunk then.

You could hear his heart beat by your ear. The calming vibration was anything but stagnant. It was calming and even though it wasn’t, it felt familiar. Like you had heard this sound in your past lifetime, and your many lifetimes before that. You weren’t spiritual, but at this moment, you knew it was fate that he would be yours. Something just told you that. How could you deny cosmic signs? This was love. Pure love. The kind that didn’t corrupt you as it took charge of every rational thought in your every fiber. It was the kind of love that made you want to live. This feeling of hope, of change. He made you feel loved without loving you, just from his touch alone, he could make years and years of pain and anguish disappear like clouds after a stormy day. You were glad their house had many sets of stairs, because you hadn’t even realized when you had reached the top. You were already asleep, curled up into his chest like a babe.

You woke early. You hadn’t shared a bed with anyone before, but seeing Sujin huddled at the edge of the bed with layers of protective pillows gave you an idea of how you loved causing misery, even while asleep. It was barely seven in the morning, but you had a good feeling Sujin wouldn’t be up for awhile. Was Jimin up? You found yourself walking down the stairs, the creaking would give you away to anyone who was down, but you didn’t mind announcing your entrance. It felt weird to be in a house you hadn’t been in since you were a little child, especially walking around the place at 6:42 in the morning like it was your own, but you had been through too much to care about manners. Yet, you did feel yourself caring about how Jimin would feel.

There was warmth in these walls. There was love. Stories of the boy you had come to admire and praise, blatant in the surroundings. The neat arrangement, the strict cool toned pallette, the coaster underneath the tilting coffee cups. It was as precise and neat as Jimin was, strict and unforgiving, yet full of change. Strange artworks of macaroni and crayon littered the walls, out of place in the grand scheme of things. They were his sister's drawings. You wondered as the artistic ability had grown more scarce that she had grown up and stopped with the amount of care she put into the details, but the vividness of the brother's hold behind her waist was majestically accented. Small discrepancies in the theme were warm invites into his private world he left privy to his own thoughts, and here you were, jarred shut inside a man's heart.

You entered what looked like the living room, clouded gloomy skies filling all the open windows in the large area. You almost barely caught the small tuft of black hair sticking out from around the corner. It wasn’t actually Jimin, but it may have been. It was a large photo of him beside his sister from a year back. There were many like it across a long wall, a series of black and dark burgundy frames alligned like stepping stools across the wall in an ornate fashion. You walked along the walls, watching the small boy grow up into a toddler, a new baby at his side that he held lovingly to his chest with all the gentleness and care lost in the hands of a wild young boy. Sujin was always in the forefront of every photo, her hand in Jimin's touch in some reassuring way that told you they had been close their entire life, even till the most recent frame of a handsome young man with the beautiful young woman. Their pinkies interlaced under their pockets. You could feel the ghost of envy possess your body, but just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. You felt embarrassed at the thought of despising someone just because they weren't as broken as you. Jimin was so happy in all the photos. His smiles were still calm and gentle, but as a child, he seemed more... Delicate... Fragile... You didn't want those smiles to leave the faces of the two people that had changed you. They inspired you. These were the people that gave you a cause to live for. Tell a slave to break the chains, then away from life they turn. But breathe cause into their bodies, and watch them flourish like a marigold on its branch.

“I called Namjoon.” You snatched your fingertips back from a photo of toddler Jimin in a cow print pajama. A furious blush had pushed past the tanned skin of your cheeks, eyes darting to the new presence in the hallway. You hadn't been doing anything wrong, but it still felt like you had. Like you had overstepped in someway.

Jimin stood at the head of the hallway. The thicks of his hair was neatly gelled backwards, a stray hair curled against his forehead. It was like the neat walls juxtaposed with the silly paintings of peppa the pig. It was a thing about Jimin. He had always treated his faults with respect, displaying them and holding them close to his heart. It was what made him so beautiful. The small stray hair, the paintings, his quiet graceful lisp in his accent, the strength in his truth that he shares with every person regardless if he owes it or not.

He was dressed neatly for the Saturday. A pair of black jeans and a button down linen flannel that almost blended into his pale skin. He had been regarding you silently, his eyes focused on yours, ignoring the wild mess of your curls, the redness of your skin, and the mess of your clothes. He was level with you. You didn't deserve it. But you wanted it. You wanted to deserve it. You wanted to stand by his side with confidence, with love and affection that you earned. The beating of your heart pulled the thoughts off your pilot seat, flying your lips into a panic as you began to crash.

“What would it take for me to have a date with you?” Honesty was a grave thing. Everyone's honest till they're caught in a lie. You had always lied to avoid being caught in the truth. You've spent your life running. Your feet have grown tired from the years of evading the truth. Your lips had grown tired from days ghosting your heart. This was your breaking point. But it was up to you how you would fall. You could fall back into yourself and suffocate for another decade, or you could take a leap of faith. To want to be loved is not a sinful wish, but it was terrifying to bare open to a man who could wash his hands of you like a hand through his raven tresses.

Trust goes both ways.

Jimin knew that better than anyone. His own thoughts parted from their blockade that kept his jaw screwed in place when it came to matters of you and your interests. Despite what you or anyone may had thought of his exterior and sharpened eyes, Jimin was a simple man. If you are honest with him, he is honest with you. If you cross him, he lays his sword down and ends you with his own hands. He was mercy just as much as he was wrath. He was quiet, a wave testing the shores of a beach of glass, pulling shards into his tide.

“Relations take seconds to make, moments to break, and years to repair.” That is all he tells you. He doesn't search your eyes to verify your understanding. He lets you search for the answer. If you truly wanted it, you will find it.

The seas he parted was the step he had taken, it was your journey to walk your way to him. They would not hold forever. Just as his eyes could easily stray from yours, the chance could easily slip from the grasp of your palms. Like a child holding onto sand. They do not understand what to do, only that they are running out of time.

You wait to gauge his gaze, afraid of what you might find. Afraid that the trust he had given you would run out. For once, your lips are sealed shut and you eyes trail in the murk. You are quiet. You are quiet because there is nothing to say, everything goes unsaid. Hope. Trust. Acceptance. You let them fill the empty words that hang in the air, trusting them more than you trust the path your tongue carved you.

He is gone when you next look to him. He leaves you in the hallway of his past, opening the door to the hallway of his future. You find it poetic in the way you found everything about Jimin poetic. He was an enigma of a boy, he was an enigma of a man. There was nothing that confused you more than him. There was no game. It would have been easier to lie and bluff your way to the winning hand. It was another way entirely to put one foot in front of the other with your soul balancing you like a balloon on a tightrope. It was a hard bet: trust the rope you walk in, trust the feet that walk it, and trust the balloon to guide you like a lamp in the night.

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The brown door of Hoseok's parents coffee shop had been smaller in the fury of your rage. But like all truth, there were small lies hidden between them. The red oak was more brown than Hoseok's parents had made it out to be. They had carved the place with their own two hands, ignoring the millions they could have spent to hire a proper architect who could tell the difference between red birch and birch painted red.

It was surprisingly closed this Saturday. The working hours had seemed to shift according to Hoseok's moods. It was why he was the only one who manned the shop the days it opened. Rival shops reveled in prevalent customers till the day the handsome sons of rich elites wander a shop with their wealth and dicks in the same pocket. Men and women would flock in an instant. So much, in fact, this had been the first coffee shop which had instated week-in-advance reservations. It had actually been your idea. It was always tiring trying to scare the women that eyed Jimin. It was the same logic of, 'if I can't have him, no one can.'

But Jimin was not something you could have. Jimin was something you earned. He chose the people he let into his life, even his sister to some extent. He had always been in control of the power he gave people to hurt him. You could not steal that from his grip. His hold was one of the tighest there ever were. You thought you could trick him to give in, but the lies only ever made you give up.

"How long do you plan to stand outside? I can't have people thinking I make my customers wait, now can I?"

Hoseok is behind you. You recognize his voice instantly with the untimely rasps of his chapped vocal chords. The winter cold always did made him sound like an old man. There is no hesitation when you turn to catch his eye. The over dramatic makeup clung to your face like an ugly second skin, even Hoseok cringed at how the lining of your eyes made him freeze in his spot like a damsel in distress.

The flirtatious warmth in his rasps left his lips chapped and blue. He knows when he has been cornered by a shark. Normally, you would swim around him and bare your sharp canines within the slyest of smirks, playing with his mind as you read him like an open book.

But when you watch him now, the questions are deflected back at you as you feel the shadow of your former self circle around you.

When had he started looking at you like that? Like you were a monster. It hadn't always been like this between you both. When you were just a little girl, he had carried you around on his back like you were his own kin. He had placated your angry cries when you had fallen down. He had hugged you when you reached your hands out for his larger one. He had lifted you up on his small back when your tiny legs had grown tired.

Realization comes like a slap to the face when the truth settled around your neck like a tightening noose. It hadn't been him who had changed. He was the same warm boy who had held your cold palms when Namjoon wasn't there. It had been you who had pulled your hand out of his grasp and ran away into the storm. It had been you who dragged him through the ice behind you. It had been you who had created the fear in his eyes.

"Relations take seconds to make, moments to break, and a lifetime to repair."

Jimin's words echo in the back of your head as you find the truth in his words. You had earned Hoseok with an innocent smile, lost him in an ignorant battle, and now you must fight a war to win him back. To win them all back.

"I - Hoseok." You start out. The words can't seem to fester into something comprehensible. There's too much you have said, there's too much you haven't. There's too many things you've done, there's too many things you haven't. The list for forgiveness is long. You do not know where to start.

So you let him pass you. You watch him unlock the shop, avoiding your eyes, even after you slip in after him like an invasive predator. He himself does not know what to make of you. There is a bow in your head which he can't help but mistake as evasiveness rather than humility. It's hard to read you when you make it so simple to ignore.

He bouts along the barista bar, wiping down the clean glass counter tops. He whistles a tune to himself so he can focus at the task at hand. He's nervous, more than he'll give away, but you see it in his song. It's a tune familiar to you. Maybe if Hoseok was in the right mind, and the rasp of his throat had given way to the heater, he would have remembered that this was a tune you had taught him. You join him when he restarts the melody.

The towel that he circles and wipes slows down in pace along with the song. You mirror him, the upbeat tone turning calm and tiring in the new rhythm. You don't know who meets the other's gaze first. All you know is when his brown eyes bask in your dark grey irises, the melody slows down even more. It is therapeutic in a way. Hoseok is reminded of the you in the past that held his hand and spit into his face as you tried to whistle for the first time. He sees you again now, a little spit still on your lips. It's when his thoughts tumble down a lane of things about you that haven't changed. He thinks about things that have.

You only think about the way your heart warms in the cold room, remembering what it felt like not to be the only one in it.

The song does not stop.

The melody begins again.

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A month has passed. It was the first month that reminded you how long thirty days actually was.

You caught Jimin's gaze everyday, as a student catches a timer on his test. There is confirmation in the way he holds your eyes a second longer as the days pass that feed small bouts of confidence into you.

There is a fear in you as you begin mending the bond between your friends and yourself. It is not as much the fear you feel in losing them than the fear you hold for yourself, the fear of knowing how easily you fall to pride.

Namjoon holds you close in his arms again. But it still feels like you are held at arm's length. It will always feel like this no matter how much you squeeze him to your chest. It is a relationship built on a lie, and you know it. You are selfish and hold this lie to your heart, even as you let everything go.

Jungkook and Taehyung regard you in a similar wariness because they are young. They only remember what you have and haven't done as long as it stays consistent of the image you paint in front of them. You can't paint them a false image, even though it would be easier to earn them at your side. It's in the fact that you know they won't call your bluff that shows you are the one who holds the power with them, do you use it to manipulate to take what you want the easy way, or do you strip pieces of your armor off that hold you like a second skin and watch their faces judge the real you. It is a slow process indeed. But they now know your favorite drink isn't black coffee, but a chocolate milkshake. You know Jungkook likes Banana milk, and that Taehyung only pretends to like it. You know that Taehyung loves art and that Jungkook cannot hide how he feels about the naked statues in his sly smirks, and you know how Taehyung clenches his teeth at the immaturity but laughs with the younger anyway.

They aren't immature, you come to realize. They only act that way because they trust each other and the people around them with their most childish and weaker self. That is wisdom. That is the beauty of their relationship. It's a double edged sword they display so brightly, like it's the most beautiful act of their friendship.

Jin is as easy on the eyes as he is easy on your heart. He is forgiveness if forgiveness ever had a name. but there is no trust. He understands you when you let him, but he does not give you an inch of him. He holds himself closer to his heart than anyone else. It is because he is old. It is because he is the eldest sibling. It is because he knows you can't rely and depend on something that cannot grow by itself. You view it as his reluctance in your acceptance until you realize it is a kind favor. The trust of an elder comes with the burden of his problems. It is a weight he wants to keep of your shoulders until you can carry your own. He is perceptive to know you're struggling to keep your head above water. It is selfless. But you do not know him. You hope one day you can.

Yoongi and you are quiet around each other. You have very little to say. He has very little to say. His pride is tall as yours is a mountain, vulnerability is not becoming of either of you. But there is calmness around him, even if you dislike it. He does not expect answers. He does not expect progress. He only sits in silence. Quiet. It takes you long to see past your ego to notice in him the qualities you admired in Sujin. That day you lay yourself blank in front of her, she was calm and quiet like Yoongi. She listened. She didn't ask. She didn't expect. She was just there. You will never admit it to him, but out of the people you had asked for forgiveness, he was the quickest to hand it to you, even more than he himself would prefer to admit. Yoongi craves forgiveness, he understands the importance of it, of change. He lost the chance from his parents, so only he knows the worth. Only he knows the pain. Only he knows the struggle. You see that in him. You respect him.

The people around you begin to become real. The more real they become, the harder you begin to think about the words leaving your mouth. You don't want to hurt them, you realize. These people are beautiful. They let you into their lives. They feel like you. They understand like you. And as you understand them, they begin to understand you.

They see that you want to change. That something has been weighing you down and that you're hurt, more than they will ever know. They see it your defensiveness, they see it in the way you drown in any intimacy, they see it in your grasp to stay alive and to push forward. And as you begin to get closer, you wonder when they will expect answers and you wonder when you will respect their questions.

Jimin is the hardest to understand out of everyone. You don't touch him, respecting his space like he had respected yours. Your teasing comments take a hike now and then, but there's only so much about your sly humour that you can mitigate. Words just leave your mouth when you're with him. They seem confident, but the straggles that mangle your lips into smirks and quips are just as hesitant as anything else about you. The difference you find is in the way he treats you. The way he doesn't inch away from your presence. The way he nods at you whenever you enter the room. You know much about him, about his mannerisms, he himself can see you predicting the small things about him that most people never notice. There is time in you to realize that the man you love has not changed, even as the idea of him slowly slipped into a reality.

He doesn't love you. Jimin doesn't love easily. But he can feel himself wanting to watch you, wanting to see you, wanting to know what lies behind your eyes, and with a hesitant glance to your lips, what lies there as well.

You grasp his shoulder as school gives out on a Friday. Your chest heaves up and down, not even trying to hide the fact that you ran after him. He doesn't mean to when he shrugs your hand away, but it's only natural to him when it is a hand he doesn't recognize. He wouldn't say that he held walls around himself, but rather, he held walls around you. You weren't nobody anymore. But you weren't somebody yet.

Jimin understood love in a way very few people did. He understood it as the power to hurt someone as well as giving them the power to hurt you. Jimin is a wary man, cautious in his nature as the older sibling. He knows to be protective about this aspect of him because he knows how vulnerable it is. When he loves someone, the world becomes black or white, sometimes even pink or blue. He was a filter, whatever color the people he loved wanted manifested in him. It was the power to change his entire world irrevocably. He would be a fool in love. His friends were allowed access, his sister was allowed more, but the position he felt you wanted to fill wasn't just to hold his heart in your palm, but to completely own it.

He wouldn't give that to anyone. He owned his heart. He wanted to stay in control. But if anyone could ever take it, he knew it wouldn't be you. He doesn't love you. He doesn't think he ever will.

But when he sees you now, beautiful and breathless in front of him with an eager clasp on his shoulder. He can't help but want to hear the words that leave your mouth.

"Let's do something, the two of us." You ask, shameless in your advances. There was no guarantee Jimin would say yes, but this had been the tenth time you had asked him in the past week alone.

And the fact that he was willing to consider saying yes wavered him. He was confident you held no stride with him.

But it had only been a month.

Tag list: @babyboytae1 @theyoongieverse @annoyinglyhopefulcarrot @mickmoon @valiantalienlampsalad

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jinnfires · 5 years ago

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The Empire Hidden In The Ashes

Summary: A fun short built in the world of a space opera. Inspired by Star Wars, but more off a fantasy science fiction book series I've been reading which is absolutely phenomenal. If you like this energy, I'll let you know about the book series (trilogy) in the comments because it's honestly worth it.

“What have you done?”

Namjoon longingly looked to the horizon. The bright Orange danced with Red, blood and mercury, like the very buildings that were built from the land. His eyes shut as he breathed in the smell of freedom and liberty. This was the land he wanted to build. This was his revolution. This was his empire. Whatever the costs maybe.

“You shouldn't be asking me that, Jungkook. What have you done?” Namjoon turned to gaze into the eyes of his old friend. He wanted to share this view with him, but he had become old enough to choose for himself. He chose wrong. And like an adult, he must bleed from his own consequences.

“You monster!” Jungkook spit at Namjoon’s feet. The guard behind him dragged him to his knees. Jungkook grunted as his hands fought against the metal cuffs.

Namjoon gazed down at the younger, the pain in his heart overshadowed by the greater sense of purpose. He was something greater than his own self. He was no longer man. He was hope. He was change.

“If I was so wrong in my ways, why is it you that is on his knees?”

“The Iron Fist you rule with will come down on you, my only mistake was thinking you were wise enough to see it.” Jungkook wrestled his hands that were pinned behind his back, the need to exorcise this demon of disillusionment from the great man that inspired him drove his bloodied wrists. Jungkook trusted him. Jungkook joined his rebellion because he believed it would be something better, because he believed in Namjoon.

“You’re making a mistake Namjoon!”

Namjoon looked away from the younger, raising his left hand in a fist. The national symbol of execution. The same one the guard used to execute Namjoon’s father. It seemed different on his hand.

Jungkook’s warm doe eyes widened in fear. His nose curled in anger and fury, steam blazing through his lips as his heart rated doubled. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t fucking be serious. After all these years he waisted at his friend’s back. Jungkook looked up to him as a father. He thought he was better than his own.

He was wrong.

He had been wrong this entire time. Namjoon was going to destroy the galaxy, billions of lives exterminated day by day, Jungkook saw all the blue prints. His death was just going to be the beginning. The fury in Jungkook began to stir. So did the despair.

“We wanted to be free. We didn’t want to be slaves anymore. We wanted to be the start of a new age. You didn’t want this. This is mass genocide! This is extinction!”

Namjoon laughed, his voice like cool waves of ice radiation blasts before they combusted. He ran a hand through his wild strawberry blond locks, the edges tinged with dried blood. Jin’s blood. “Can’t you see? The world can’t change. They can’t change. There is only freedom in death. True transcendence cannot be born from a world filled with precedent. Only from ash, we will rise.”

“Then if you truly believe in that, execute me yourself. I want you to watch me die. I want you to remember the price for this Freedom you claim is the answer. I want you to remember it everyday. Only true is a man that carries his own burdens.”

Namjoon regarded the younger. Not as Jungkook was. But as Jungkook is. The man who stared death in the eyes. Just as his father had the day Namjoon had slit his throat. With Jungkook’s death, he would have purged the entire Jeon bloodline. Every living reminder of the woman he once loved. Free. A part of him hesitated to reach for the Plasma blade. His will was stronger.

The blade materialized out of thin air, the thin green plasma film whirring softly. A silent death.

“One last thing. You might want to rethink floor to ceiling windows in your private quarters.”

Namjoon’s eyes shot open in surprise as he spun around, a mere second before the ship crashed into the back of the glass screen.

In the confusion, Jungkook spun over his ankles, sending a flying back kick into the guards gut while head butting the one adjacent to him. His feet were light as he maneuvered around the rest like a boat steering in the wind, his hands still pinned to his back in the electromagnetic friction cuffs.

Namjoon rolled to his feet, forcing the ringing in his ears to dissipate as he scrambled for the plasma blade. His eyes locked on the opening ship door as Jungkook slipped through. Taehyung’s brown eyes caught his in that very millisecond.

Namjoon didn’t move as he stared into the eyes of the man that had been the first to betray him. His death, Namjoon questioned. He wasn’t ready to let the man escape his sentence. He didn’t deserve his eternal peace. He held his hand level at the open sun rise, calling the guards back as the ship pulled away from the building.

He would let them watch. The world he would burn and the world he would create. Then he would burn Taehyung’s body on his own funeral pyre. He would scream till the final moment. Till the last moment. Namjoon was the Messiah. Their death was as eminent as his rise.

“Release a warrant.” Namjoon asked the final man in the room with him. His advisor was confused as he placed his blade back in its plasma sheath.

“A warrant for the rebellion group? As far as the public knows, they are on your side.”

Namjoon twisted the blade in his hand, feeling the lightness at the center of its gravity. “A warrant for the Empire’s rebellion turned rogue, blame the monarch loyalists for buying them off and tasking them with acts of terrorism. Charge them for the death of an entire legion of soldiers and the Empire’s trusted advisor.”

“I - what -?”

The sound of a whirring blade sent the advisor’s head falling to the floor, the eyes empty as they stared at the beautiful evening sky.

“Second thoughts, I’ll do it myself.” Namjoon adjusted his warrior’s helm, turning out of the building door with his eyes fixated on the disappearing star craft in the night’s sky.

“Welcome to my Empire.”

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jinnfires · 5 years ago

Text

To Want To Be Loved

Summary: You wanted to be loved by a person who loves like no other, you wanted to be loved by Park Jimin. You didn't know if you deserved love. Suffering behind a mask for six years, you keep your lips shut and your words void of any feeling. To want to be loved is a desire that everyone feels, even the worst of the people, like you.

Just a quick work, don't expect too much. Edit: this is after I finished writing it. It's very Angsty, TRIGGER WARNING mentions of suicide and sexual abuse. I ran out of space so I will write my second part right now so it will be published in an hour. Lemme know what you think! (Not much romance till next part)

"Can you at least tell me why?"

"If it will get you stop pursuing this idea, sure: You're my best friend's younger sister."

"- adopted, but continue."

Jimin frowned at your statement, some of his own thoughts battling on his tongue.

"You're immature. You don't know how to respect people, much less your own brother. And frankly, disrespectful, entitled girls aren't my type."

"So there's nothing wrong with my appearance?" A snug smile coiled at your lips.

Anybody could get a different personality, but your natural looks were one in a million. Foreign features from god knows where, probably your real parents. Dark kinky and curly hair, hazel almond shaped eyes, tan olive skin, and the perfect body. How couldn't Jimin want you?

"You really know nothing, do you? I don't even know why I'm wasting my time on a lost cause, that's your brother's job."

"It could be yours, if you want it Daddy." You sucked on your finger, swirling the wetness around your tongue with the most seductive expression you could manage.

Jimin's eyebrows furrowed. How could Namjoon ever live with a little monster like yourself. You hadn't changed at all since you were a little kid. You were the same girl who constantly sabotaged her brother despite him only ever loving her, the same girl who slapped her brother on his own birthday because he got a car before her, which he later gave to you because of how hurt he was. You were the same girl who yelled at her parents and family when things didn't work out. You were the same girl that bullied his younger sister. He simply couldn't fathom how you turned out so terrible, despite having all the love in the world from your parents and brother.

"I hope to never speak to you again. I'll be amicable, for Namjoon's sake. Please don't bring this up again." Jimin looked away from you, as if this conversation had never happened, and he returned to the sea of students in the hallway.

Alone, you grimaced bitterly to yourself. Remembering all his words, each one like a knife to the chest. You finally found a way that you could be happy, by being at Jimin's side. You spent your entire life watching him fix people, broken people, he was loyal and loving, and never let anything disturb him while always being honest to a fault. You've been in love with him since you first met him, ten years ago, at your sixth birthday party.

It was one of those memories from your childhood that you couldn't remember vividly, but the undescribable feeling you felt followed you throughout your entire life.

He was happiness. You craved it. You craved everything that he had and gave. You didn't know how much longer you could keep going without completely falling apart.

The small buzzing of your phone in the back pocket of your skirt uniform broke you out of your trail of self pity. An ominous feeling washed over you as you reached for the black cover, fear pulsating throughout your body.

It was a message.

Dad: How's my sweet little girl?

•·················•·················•

"Y/n skipped again." Namjoon ran a frustrated thumb over his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose in stressed frustration.

"There's nothing you can do about it, it's her life." Yoongi butt in, nonchalantly. He was never shy about his dismissals of you. He normally didn't care to give two flying fucks to a brat like you, unless it threw Namjoon's mood off. Sometimes he wished the fucking ingrate would disappear.

"Yoongi, she's my sister. I'm her older brother... Her big bro. She's just a little kid -"

"She's 16, not a fucking baby." Yoongi bit down, slightly more harsher than his usual austere responses.

"And I'm 20, an adult. It's my job to care for her. She's a year younger than Kook."

"When Kook was her age - actually, Kook at five years old has more conscience than that - than your sister would ever have!" Yoongi snapped, eyes glaring.

Namjoon's eyes darkened at Yoongi's words, feeling his own slew of emotion breaking through the dam of his thoughts. He let the wave of anger pass through him, shutting his eyes and breathing calmly. It was no lie how his friends felt about his sister, even Hoseok and Jimin disliked her.

But Namjoon didn't care. He remembered all the nights he begged his parents for a little sister, for a family member that would make him feel less alone. He remembered holding her hand for the first time, his beautiful baby sister, and promising to protect her from everything the world had. He knew his sister. He also noticed when she began to change, around the age of eleven or so.

It was the summer when he left with his best friends to pursue his dreams at a training program. He had grown selfish and left his little sister because of his dreams. Whatever happened that summer changed her. Deep down, he knew it was his fault.

Everytime Yoongi, him, and Hoseok snuck out on the weekends for underground rap battles, he could never shake the feeling of guilt. He loved his sister more than he had ever loved anyone, including his parents. He understood there would come a day when someone else would enter his life, but he couldn't even begin to fathom leaving his sister again, seeing her current state. He needs to take responsibility.

His friends saw it as him wasting his life, his time, his energy. He saw it as fixing something that he had ruined beyond comparison.

"I need to know she's okay. If she's alright." Namjoon could feel himself on the verge of tears and madness as he sunk his head into his palms.

"It's my fault."

Jin immediately plopped at Namjoon's side, putting a hand over his shoulder to comfort him. He was the oldest of the group as well as the oldest of four siblings, he understood where Namjoon was coming from, even despite his own dislikes toward you. But Jin was aware of a few times where you had done redeemable things, just the slightest. Everytime he thought you were changing, you would go ahead and do something a thousand times worse. It was almost as if you wanted him to hate you.

"Your parents care about her just as much as you do. You can't shoulder this burden all by yourself, you can't parent her. It's simply not your place. What you can do is teach her how to deal with the consequences of her actions, to teach her responsibility, diligence, hardwork. I understand we go to a rich school and each come from wealthy backgrounds -"

"- wealthy? My dad is the CEO of Golden Closet Film production." Jungkook barged in with his smug smirk.

"Well my dad owns the top plastic surgery clinic in the world, but you don't see me bragging about it." Taehyung muttered.

"Having a fake face is not something to brag about."

"I thought we established that my face was real!" Taehyung pushed back.

"Can you guys please shut up." Jin sternly yelled, which he didn't do often. The younger two quieted, returning to whatever task they had in hand.

"You need to teach her hard work, so maybe having her earn some of her rights or privileges or an accountability system would work with her. So because of her actions today, you can lower her credit card limit. Or you can give the maids a day off and have her put in some elbow grease."

Namjoon thought about it. He didn't think you were spoiled. You maxed out your credit cards on useless expensive things, but he never once saw you wear anything but your school uniform and a large coat you had. Your grades were consistently good, but you did skip a lot. A part of him felt that there was something more to it than this, but maybe he was just wishing there was more.

Maybe he should do something.

"We need to go to our hideout at Hope's parents coffee shop. They're closed tonight to fly out to Morocco, which means we can hangout and plan Jimin's little sister's suprise 17th Birthday without her finding out." Jungkook grinned, clearly excited to finally be included in the planning this time now that his hyung's know he won't mess up again.

"What are we waiting for?"

Namjoon looked at the credit card statements on his phone, biting his lip as he swiped the limit in place.

•·················•·················•

You sat in your car, parked on a random street in an empty parking lot. You stole some peas from the fridge on your way out, the regular ice pack you used last time laying somewhere around your room.

Your leggings were pulled down to your ankles as you pressed the packs under you thighs till below your bottom. The back of your throat was bruised, a sore throat easily on its way. The mouthwash and Ice pack weren't going to cut it this time. You needed to bury whatever it was you were feeling in a glass of empty desire. You always did do your best and most extravagant shop runs after days like this.

You started the car, roughly pulling the leggings back up underneath your skirt. You had done this too many times to be careful about the pain, it would hurt no matter what.

The Versace shop was the closest one to you. You didn't mind it being your first stop. You pulled your mirror out of your purse, making sure to cake extra concealer around your eyes, slightly swollen lips, and red lines around your neck. Adding on an extra coat of red lipstick, you felt ready to shop for hours.

You marched into the store, your regular attendant, Sarah, already flocking to your side. The next few hours were a blur of sparkling diamonds, gold, and expensive shoes. A lot of expensive shoes. You tried them on, one after the other, your attendant hollering and clapping his hands. At times like this, it often felt nice to come here. Sarah was like a friend to you. She always made you feel pretty about yourself.

She knew you liked things shiny and sparkling, like a dragon, the most over the top items caught your attention. You were there till late in the night, laughing and joking with Sarah. You were even willing to maybe open up about a few of your struggles, wondering if she would really listen.

"Do you want to get some dinner after this?" You shyly asked, as you stood at the register with her.

She swiped your credit card, giving you a small smile as she packed up all your orders. "This late?"

You almost felt bad, seeing how much work she put into helping you all day, and how much she worked to pack everything. You wanted to take her out.

Sarah frowned as she looked at the screen, a look changing the warmth in her eyes. "It seems your card has been temporarily frozen. You have also lost your gold status."

Your eyes widened in suprise. Your card was working just fine the other day. Maybe there was a problem at the bank, or?

"It was frozen by someone named Kim Namjoon at 2 PM today."

Anger wasn't instantaneous. It was something that was slowly built up. You felt yourself become anxious first, your voice slightly higher and frantic as you deciphered through the multitude of emotions coursing through you.

"Surely this is just a simple problem, I can get it fixed. You can just save my order."

"You want me to unpack all your items and save them in a storage unit when you're not even a gold status member?" All the warmth from her eyes were replaced with something ice cold and venomous.

"I spent my day, a whole day's worth of commission on a child who's being cut off? How are you going to reimburse my time?"

You faltered slightly. What happened to Sarah? This wasn't the sweet and kind girl you wanted to be friends with. She was completely gone. Along with your money. All the happiness that had filled you up disappeared instantly as the anxiousness turned into despair and pity.

"I only conversed with you to buy more things, but seeing that you won't be buying anything, I'm going to ask you to leave."

You took a few steps back, wondering and wandering through all the events that just happened. You turned on your heel, your strut turning into a frantic run as you felt tears of shock and pain run down your face.

You slammed your car door behind you. The feeling of hundreds of people watching you sent waves of panic down your back as you began to floor-it through teary eyes, earning a few honks and yells as you sped onto the highway. You slowed your pace.

The panic, regret, shock, and anxiety was pulling you to another panic attack. You let your thoughts drift over to Namjoon, your defense mechanisms converting all your overwhelming emotions into pure rage.

Namjoon had messed with your credit cards. He had taken away the last thing you used to keep yourself sane. He had the friends, he had Jimin, he had loving parents who - you choked back another sob, trying not to revert back into that headspace.

Your constant thoughts about Namjoon pushed you on track towards Hoseok's family's coffee shop, knowing they would be there as they always were.

If the roads weren't as empty as they were, you would have definitely gotten into a crash.

You slowly let yourself calm down to a simmering and controlled rage and annoyance over the course of the twenty minute drive.

You parked just outside the front, the closed blinds of the large townhouse with light peaking out of it signaling that they were definitely there.

Why were they still there this late into the night?

A part of you wondered if they were planning something for your adoption day in a month. You definitely knew they weren't, but Namjoon surely would have - not after what you did your last adoption day. You remembered telling Namjoon to never throw you another party like this again.

It was last year on your supposed 16th birthday. You had shown up distraught at your house, scared for your life having done something to better fix it. Funny how fixing it endangered it.

You remembered opening the door and having many heads, including your brother and his friends, pop out from behind your couch and table.

Your scream wasn't one of suprise, it was horror. But all screams sounded the same. You had immediately turned the party upside down, wanting everyone outside of your house. Your dad was going to be flying in soon, you needed everyone gone. Fear and adrenaline moved you. You remembered taking Namjoon's hand made cake and throwing it on the floor. You slapped and kicked and did anything tearing down the decorations, kicking the presents, anything to get everyone out of your house. You screamed on the top of your lungs till you were empty and alone on the floor of your house.

Your hand reached for the ruined cake on the floor, remembering how beautiful it looked. How hard Namjoon must have worked on it. You grabbed a handful of the floor, shoving some into your mouth as you cried in despair and agony.

Your anger was gone. Now, was only fear and sadness, depression and solidarity.

Maybe, maybe you could try and fix yourself? Maybe you could get away?

Cold flashes past through you as you remembered your sixteenth birthday again.

You had been working small secret jobs, such as doing homework for kids at school, unbeknownst to anyone. Nobody knew it was you. You tried to do any small job you could manage without anyone finding out, paid only in cash to avoid a money trail. You were going to buy a ticket. A plane ticket out of here, far away from this country. Maybe find your real parents or re start your life.

But you couldn't bring yourself to leave, thinking about Namjoon, and your mother. They really cared about you, but you couldn't tell them anything without hurting or endangering them, remembering the threats you were told like a menorized scripture.

Your father had texted you moments after, telling he knew about the tickets and that he was flying in.

That was when you started panicking.

It was also the night you found out the reason why your father had done what he had done, and why he had started all those years ago. It was when he found out that you weren't adopted.

You called him Father, and maybe a time ago, he was. But the things he had...

You squeezed your eyes shut, reaching in deeper to pull out whatever sane bit of yourself that you had left.

You reached for the concealer again.

•·················•·················•

You throw the door open in the dramatic way you always preferred. As you expected, the members were drawled out across the place with paint and pen marks on their face. It looked like they had been in the middle of creative process. Perfect time to intervene.

"Dear brother, did you mess with my cards?" There was a small tone of warning in your words, but you tried playing it out as your usual narcissistic playful self.

"Go away Y/n, we're busy." Taehyung groaned out.

"Busy doing what?" You plopped onto the couch across Jimin, giving him a wink. He was bent over a large piece of cardstock, a paintbrush over his ear, slightly grazing his sharp cheek bone. He looked absolutely lovely. You wondered what it would feel like to be held in his arms. If he could really make everything go away. You've seen the way he loves, and you couldn't imagine wanting anything but that.

You remembered sitting at the train station to the airport, wondering about how even if you left, there was no guarantee you would ever meet anyone as loving and responsible as Jimin. It was just something you knew. You knew a life by his side just might fix you. Could he really be yours?

"We're working on Jimin's sister's birthday surprise." Jungkook carefully drawled out, scared of the incoming jealous outburst. He wrapped a hand around his small part of the large sign he was working on, covering it protectively in case.

"Can I join?" Everyone in the room froze, including yourself.

"Y-You want to help?" Hoseok stuttered out.

You nodded, getting up and scooting next to Jimin. The smell of orange citrus, vanilla, and cinnamon filled your nose. He even smelled like happiness. He turned to give you a questionable look, slightly leaning back. His eyes on you felt just as amazing, filling you up with warmth. Imagine how it would feel if his eyes were filled with love.

The moment didn't last as he returned to his work, ignoring you. You had a small smile nonetheless.

"If you're serious, can you grab those paint buckets over there?" Taehyung smirked, knowing how funny it would be to see you doing manual labor.

"Whatever." You grumbled, annoyed. The cans looked heavy, but if it kept Jimin's attention on you, going for it wouldn't hurt.

You reached down to grab the cans. They didn't look more than twenty pounds, which you could handle. A few eyes watched you, suspiciously. Everyone had their eyes on you, well, except Jimin.

You picked the cans up, thinking all was good. A sudden surge of pain up the back of your knees till your thighs took you off garden as you felt the sore muscle collapse from underneath you.

Somehow, to your amazing bad luck, the paint hadn't touched you, but had instead splattered out over the large intricately crafted banner on the table.

You could barely pay attention as a migraine fell over you, the soreness of your muscles getting worse at the second. You felt light headed. You could barely register the sounds of Yoongi screaming at you.

"I can't believe you ruined the banner. Of course you did. I knew it was too good that you tried to help decorate my girlfriend's banner, but you're just so jealous that you can't even think. Was bullying her not enough? Hmm?"

The anger which you had suppressed met your ongoing fatigue and burning sensation created a monster that snapped into character just as you used a surge of adrenaline to pull you to your feet despite the stabbing pain.

"You asshole. You fucking asshole. No wonder you need to sneak out at night to rap, your parents wouldn't care to love a disappointment. Or maybe they already realize you're a piece of shit? Didn't your good old daddy smack that of your face when you told him you wanted to be a fool? Does fucking a high schooler make you feel better about your fucking terrible life? Your mom should have gotten the abortion."

A hand slammed into the table, the loud ring crackling throughout the room. You were immediately thrown off your guard as you turned to find a poker faced Namjoon, eyebrows slightly furrowed in anger.

"Don't talk to my friends like that."

You scoffed. Hadn't he just heard how Yoongi talked to you.

"He was the one who started yelling at me!" You added, still angry.

"You were the one who ruined the banner."

Your eyes widened, resurging the fire you had in you earlier as you turned to face your brother. "You're filled with shit, aren't you. You just wade around like a fucking firefly, making everything so much more worse. You're the worst brother to ever exist. Makes a lot of sense because you aren't even my real fucking brother. You never take my side, I barely have any expectations when I'm the one doing everything!"

"No expectations?" Namjoon's voice was dangerously quiet. You swallowed at the sound of his voice, biting back your next paragraph of insults.

"Never taking your side? I always take your side. I try my level best to be the perfect brother you need. I've done everything I can. You abuse me with your words and hands left and right and I stay quietly by your side like a dog, and you stand there with the guts to see I'm not even your real brother! And to go after my friends? They have no obligation to be by your side, but they stay because of me. All the times I've had them help out, for your birthday, for your parties, to help you. I can't believe I asked them to help a brat who can't even say the word thank you. I've let guilt hold me by your side for so long, but clearly you are old enough to do whatever you want and speak however you want, so-"

Namjoon snatched his phone off the counter, his fingers tapping into the screen with rage.

"I unfroze your account. I'm done trying to help you. Two years from now, you're not going to be anyone's problem. This is the last thing I'm going to do as your brother."

You were frozen in your spot. You had been stuck in your place many times today, but this was the last straw. This was the end. You didn't realize you had tears streaming down your cheeks, until you noticed everyone's eyes on you.

For the first time in their life, they had seen you cry, including your own brother. The expression he saw on your face wasn't something he had ever seen. It was the first crack in your mask. But it wasn't enough.

You turned on your foot, walking out of the coffee house, back into the night.

•·················•·················•

You took whatever pesky cash you had to grab a motel. It wasn't expensive enough for your father to be alerted. He must've already flown out a few hours ago, so you were safe.

You sat on the old bed, the flickering light above your head catching you into a trance as you were spaced out.

It was a relapse.

You were newly ten years old. Your mother was running the headquarters of their company in America, so she wasn't home for months on end. Namjoon was out for summer that year, which meant is was just you and dad.

You were excited to spend the whole day with him. He said he was going to take you out for ice cream and a movie because it was your birthday. He was even going to get you the fairy wand you had always wanted. You were going to use it to grant your mother, father, and brother eternal happiness.

You remembered waking up early that day and making your way down the stairs. Your dad might have forgotten to wake you up, so you remembered to set an alarm. He wasn't anywhere in his room so you took the stairs down. You heard soft muttering in the office, almost like yelling. You tip toed around the door, wondering what was going on.

"I can't believe Yuri lied to me. She said she was adopted. I can't confront her now, she owns the majority of the company. It's fucking ransom!" He slammed his fist into the table, you flinched. "Are you saying that whore cheated on me on some foreign trip to the states and came back with a bastard!"

You froze, confused at everything that was happening. Your dad was becoming scarier on the phone.

You pressed into the door in your shock, sending the door flying open with you on the floor.

"Daddy?"

Your dad stopped, immediately ending the phone call. The look in his eyes changed as he watched you. You felt scared and afraid, for the first time.

"Daddy?"

He stalked towards you, bending down right in front of you. He smiled warmly before his other hand snapped up to grab your jaw.

"You like calling me Daddy so much, let me give you a reason to."

His hand wrapped around your throat as you screamed in fear and desperation. He smacked you across the jaw over and over till your crying couldn't be heard.

"That must have loosened you up. Ready for some birthday ice cream babygirl?"

Your father thrusted something into your mouth. You tried to bite down, but he only punched you in the face. He rammed into you again, the edge of your throat screaming in pain as you sobbed. You didn't know what was happening.

Your father kept thrusting into your mouth, your head hitting the wall with every move. You grew limp as you lost vision. He kept ramming into your mouth over and over again. Again. Again. Again.

"Swallow." You listened.

And he repeated it. He repeated it for the next four hours. He did it everyday, smacking and spanking you, making you hold his member and let him fuck your mouth. Namjoon and your mom were gone for three months.

It never stopped.

He would grab your breast, or use a whip against your ass or clit, but he never ripped your virginity away from you, knowing how easily he would be discovered. At least not until this year. Everytime you go back to meet him, you keep your fingers crossed that it doesn't go farther. He almost went farther if your mother hadn't been flying in for your birthday.

You needed to get out of here.

You needed to be free.

You stared at the wall, unmoving.

•·················•·················•

Your morning classes went the same as they usually did. You had at least expected to wake up to any missed calls from Namjoon, but there were none.

You looked at your empty call log as you sat on the roof of the building, looking off into the sky.

It didn't seem like Namjoon was going to miss you anyway. Your father wouldn't give a fuck, which was precisely why jumping off seemed very inviting. Jimin loving you didn't seem like a possibility, seeing he either ignores you or thinks the worst of you. Your mother... Your real mother... She wasn't even here to care.

With every thought, you inched closer and closer to the edge. You were in a trance, barely realizing how close you were. You could see the ground below. Cement. Would four stories be enough to kill you?

You reached out for your final step, your final step off the building.

A pair of hands yanked at your shoulder, throwing you backwards on the ground with a painful thud.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Your blurry vision recovred from the impact to see a short girl with blonde hair, Park Sujin. Also known as Jimin's younger sister. Her eyes were wide with horror. It looked almost like she was concerned, her wide eyes and puffed cheeks making her look like a bloated fish.

You started to laugh.

"Is something wrong with you!? You try to kill yourself and now you laugh!? Is everything working up there."

"I'm not sure." Your laughing ceased as you realized what you had tried to do. There was some amount of shock, but at this point, you were to broken to decipher anything.

"Your brother wouldn't date me, so I tried to jump." It wasn't the truth, but part of it. You waited for her to call you a pathetic manipulative little witch and leave you be.

But the days are just full of surprises.

"You didn't seem like you were faking it, which is why I need you to sit up and talk to me."

Almost instinctively, you went for your usual response whenever anyone wasted their time on you. "Why do you care?"

"Because we were really good friends when you were young. And you look pathetic."

You sat up against one of the walls of the roof, lazily grinning. "You look pathetic."

"Shut up."

"Shut up." You repeated in a more annoying voice.

"Stop copying - nevermind." Sujin sighed and sat across you.

"I know why you started bullying me and blackmailing me. You did it to keep me from finding about you doing shady jobs around the school for petty money. Also, to get my brother's attention. You should've bullied him instead, have you not watched Boys Over Flowers? Wrong tactics."

Your eyes widened slightly at her insightfulness. Had one of the students ratted you out? Fuck. If she knew, surely that idiot might've-

"I bribed Woojang to keep his mouth shut. You didn't seem like you wanted it coming out. What I don't understand is why someone as rich as you needed money - in cash. My thoughts were because you needed something that you didn't want Namjoon or your parents finding out about - like a plane ticket."

You didn't give away your pokerface. You stayed silent, wondering what she was getting at.

"I followed you. That evening. It was the day Woojang came clean to me. I followed you to the airport. I saw you rip the tickets and leave. You tore up your birthday party after that. I remember, I was there."

"So you just want to throw that in my face again? Saving me for this? How noble of you." You responded, bitterly, masking the fear and anxiety in her words.

"You walk with a very slight limp. It wasn't noticeable until now, when you were off your guard. Which is why, Y/n, I need you to take of your leggings."

"Wow, how perverted of you. If you want to get into my pants, just ask."

"Y/n, if you don't listen to me, I'm going to go downstairs right now and tell Namjoon everything. If it is what I suspect it is, and you'll know if I know, if you don't show me right now, I'm going to make Woojang confess everything."

You heart was slamming into your chest. Your back was literally pressed against a wall. But you were smarter about this. You could show her what she wanted then get her to shut her mouth. You could say they're hickies... But, she had just seen you trying to... but it was your word against hers, you could play it off as manipulative.

"Y/n, please, please. I'm trying to help you. I'm not going to tell Namjoon or anyone, you just need to talk to me."

No one has ever tried to help you like this. You've never given anyone the chance to.

"Why do you care?" You hissed out, almost automatically.

Sujin bit her lip, finally having enough. You half expected her to give up, throw you off the roof herself, or run downstairs and tell Namjoon, but unexpectedly, she wrapped her hands around you.

You immediately tried to pull back, but Sujin pulled you closer into her arms. Her arms were thin, but warm. You could feel her calming heartbeat against you. There was only warmth. You've never been embraced like this, so sincerely, with all the comfort and care in the world. You sobbed into her chest. Her sincerity piercing the last of you layer. In shock of all the pain striking you like a whip. You whaled at the top of your lungs, remembering everything, every feeling, all the pain. It all came pouring out at once. Sujin pulled you closer into her, your pain touching her, shedding a few tears from her own eyes. You stayed like that for a few moments, maybe a few minutes, or maybe a few hours. Who knew how long? But the moment you pulled apart from Sujin's hold, which you never wanted to do in the first place, she looked at you with her warm eyes.

"Please let me help you."

Part II

116 notes · View notes

jinnfires · 5 years ago

Text

Love Again

Summary: You couldn't believe there was anything left in your chest anymore. You've spent too many nights alone. You thought you were made of stone. But goddamn, in a single shared gaze, he got you in love again. ®❗®️

LISTEN TO THE SONG TRUST ME

•·················•·················•

The passing days were like trickles of water past a car window on the highway. You didn't know where you were driving. Sometimes you weren't sure if your hands were ever on the steering wheel.

It had been two years since you buried everything you ever loved.

Emptiness greeted you everyday in the mirror. The dips of your bed were heavy with bodies, sweat, and heat. Another man every week. You never saw their faces. You pushed yourself away from anything real.

Your eyes wisped over the old trunk you stuffed at the edge of your closet. You could barely see the edges of the veg tan olive finish, the patina catching the light, holding the last glimmer of your eyes.

You wondered if you could ever will yourself to open the trunk. After two years, you would think you would be over his memory. His scent. His touch.

Bitterness filled you the first few months. You had it in you to throw the box into the gutter from whence it came. You did. But there you were, two am, fishing through the muck and dirt in the rain, barely by the very next day. He had that affect on you. Even when he wasn't by your side, he was still able to drive you crazy.

You'd cry yourself to sleep everytime you tried to rid yourself of the burden. Finding yourself in a mess, late hours into the night, covered in filth and tears.

Why did he leave you?

What happened?

Where did everything go?

Why were you the only one left in disarray?

Enough childish attempts woke you up to how counterproductive you were being.

So you left it in the depths of your closet. You never feared for it. Instead, you left yourself to fear of it. The random men and women throughout the night only pulled your eyes away enough to breathe, but in the morning when the bed was cold and your pockets were empty, the trunk would still sit there.

It was Friday night. You were zipped up in the same little black dress, the one with the memory of the hands of hundreds. Along with his. It was his last present to you, to wear to senior prom with him. His hands on your waist throughout the night, his soft kisses in the moonlit sky, his promises to marry you and make you his.

You found your way to his bed that night. He made love to you in a way that drove your pulse through the ceiling. Soaring and levitating. You gave him everything. You felt in a way of raw emotion, pure love, that you had never felt before. If you had known the price for a love so chaste, you often wonder if you would ever make the same decisions.

You told yourself one story. The trunk that sat in your closet like a patient demon, hoarding over your very sanity, told another story.

You leaned over your dresser, puckering your red lips in the mirror. Your long silk waves were pinned into messy waves down your back, the dark black merging with your dress. Your brown eyes were the same as they stared into the reflection. That woman was you. You were no longer a little kid, a young teenager who could go around with hell slipping through the cracks.

You wondered whose bed it was going to be tonight.

An old Chairman that bought you a drink, the bartender that poured your drink, the female dancer that swung around the pole of the club with her eyes on your curves, the one boyfriend that sleeps around, the chaebol playboy that grabs your drunk waist. As long as it meant you weren't alone.

You took a quick look around your apartment as you laced up your wedges. It was an improvement to the minimalistic lower middle-class life you lived. The modeling gig payed fathomly decent. It got you into exclusive clubs and employed you with all the means to be self-destructive.

Alcohol, sex, money. What would it be in a few more years? Drugs? Prostitution? Dead in a ditch?

You emptied your thoughts, severing them to your apartment and the blood sucking trunk with a sharp slam of your apartment door.

The club was in the upper scale of New York, some rich and fancy place with all the important rich people, heirs, CEOs, stars. If they were as good at fucking as they were at buying you liquid Harvard tuition in bitter Remy and Cognac, then you weren't expecting a simple night. Two men on you didn't sound like a bad idea. One from behind and one from the front.

You wondered what part of the room your dress would end up.

You wondered what part of the room you would end up.

Sometimes you were surprised at the amount of bodies that would end up in your bed by the night, but not suprised when you were the only one left in it by the morning. There was only so much you could do with oral and in some rare cases, anal. Sometimes one or the other, sometimes both.

Like the trunk, you had your own episodes when you tried kissing another pair of lips or getting intimate with another body. You told yourself it was the fear of pregnancy and STDs.

You didn't think much past that.

The surroundings buzzed past the lights and honking up Queens. The occasional nightly streaker would rub his dick past your cab every now and then, but your eyes never left the bright screen of your phone.

"Mam, it says we need verification to -."

"Tell them I'm with the Dior modeling agency, my code is Remazteca47."

•·················•·················•

"Souletica wouldn't buy those prices."

"Then consider our business at an end." Taehyung reached for his blazer, throwing the end over his shoulder as he rose from his seat. As usual, his assistant reached out to exchange his reading glasses to his regular aviator frames.

"You're making a mistake." Eidilin leaned back into her chair, eyeing the man from his head to toe. He was tall, with a good amount of muscle on him. She was expecting someone more different. Kim Consolidated was one of the largest corporations to run Asia's top fashion brands. The tales of the intimidating hard head that manned the new steering wheel was rumoured to be a genius. It was hard to believe he had only been doing this for two years, at such a young age. Pretty boy heirs that took over big companies had the tendency to run everything into the ground.

"Asia is the biggest market for fashion brands, such as Gucci and Supreme. The upscale wealth and standard of the foreign market has consistently sold out products that continue to fail in the states. I don't need this deal, Yves and Prada are already contracted to me. No mistakes are being made on my side of the bargain." Taehyung ran a hand through his chestnut blond locks, tossing the gelled long strands over his forehead to curl against his ears and cheek bones, a few lone curls elegantly hanging on his forehead.

Eidilin was impressed. Taehyung had an ethos to him that instantly drew her to him. Biting her lips, she reached for the pen at her side and feigned drawing it over the contract, only to rest it behind her ear.

"We could consider continuing this conversation a few floors beneath the restaurant, there's a club where I feel like we could make more productive conversations."

"I believe signing the deal is the only product to this conversation. The pen would do you better instead of wasting both of our time. Call my assistant for an appointment if you've decided to sign the paper. Good day."

Taehyung was at the door by the end of the sentence. He didn't spare another look before he shut the door to their private parlor.

Gazes flocked toward him as he briskly walked out of the plaza.

"Would you want to swing by the club downstairs to grab some neats?" Jungkook suggested as Taehyung's hands reached for the ground floor button.

"I don't club."

"And you don't fuck. What a saint. It's a more refined club, and you'll need to make some public appearances."

"I know what my company needs and doesn't need, Kook."

"Well, despite being best friends since we were in diapers, it doesn't seem you have a grasp over what your friend kook needs and doesn't need." Jungkook slipped past Taehyung to press the 13th floor, shoving his boss to the side with his broad shoulders.

Jungkook could hear Taehyung's soft sigh. That's when he knew this argument was already over. Taehyung seemed to be a push over at his will, which he only utilized for both him and his friend's benefit, of course.

As the Americans put it, He needed to get his boss laid.

He's a hundred and one percent sure Taehyung hadn't touched another woman since... Jungkook bit his lip. At times like this, he remembered his friend from high school, the only person who made the quiet Taehyung turn into the goofy, lovable man, he was then. But it was also at times like this, he would resent you for ruining the man im front of him. All for what, a few hundred K?

Watching his best friend lose his parents and the one he loved all in the same day brought a bitter taste to his mouth, especially when he knew deep down, that Taehyung could never hate you.

The moderate base vibrated throughout the elevator. The doors must have opened at the dance floor, which mean they probably would have to look for the bar, much to his Boss' discontent.

Surely, the doors slid open to reveal a slew of dancing bodies. Jungkook could feel Taehyung tense up in the unfamiliar environment. He never liked the night life. He watched his older brother and father run themselves down this path, destroying their lives and the lives of those around them.

"See anything that you like?" Jungkook asked, as they both used the VIP path to the bar upstairs of the dancefloor.

"I'm not looking to divest into someone else's bed. I sleep well alone."

"I was talking about the alcohol, but it's great you're keeping your eyes out for a good fuck."

Taehyung ignored the younger's snarky remark, seating himself at the bar stool farthest from the crowd. Almost everyone was on the lower floor, luckily with only a few others at the non crowded bar.

"Canada dry for the sissy, I'll take a dirty martini, the price doesn't matter because I want to be drunk enough not to care."

"You don't seem to care either ways." Taehyung leaned an elbow on the counter, running a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. His hands reached to loosen his tie.

"I'm not the same characterless play boy I was back in highschool. I'd like to think I'm slightly more refined. See, I drink with a pinkie off the glass."

"Then you just end up spilling on your suit, the uptight life isn't the one for you." The edge of Taehyung's lips turned upwards in a half grin.

"Hardly." Jungkook gave his famous wide tooth grin at the elder. It seemed nice to see Taehyung in a more relaxed state. He didn't have to be a stick up his ass 24/7, he already did as much as he could without any notion of normalcy.

"I'm going to take my Martini to the dance floor. Maybe a corridor for some quick head. Coming?"

Taehyung shook his head, rotating the contents of his glass in front of his eyes nonchalantly. "Be fast or you're fired."

"Your wish will be my command." Jungkook grinned and pulled through the crowd, eyes on the lookout for a girl that he would consider Taehyung's type.

He wasn't sure about what Taehyung was physically attracted to, but it can't be that hard. Boobs and Ass are the universal rules. Just find someone objectively hot.

A shape caught his gaze out of the corner of his eye. It was an amazingly attractive girl, the ones that you could tell were extravagant just from a gaze behind.

"Hello sweety." Jungkook slipped, triumphantly.

He tailed after the little black dress. The wide hips, long jet black hair, ass, waist. The way other people were looking at her confirmed his suspicion.

He was close to going up to her until he witnessed the woman reach out for a man's neck, pressing her body against his as they danced.

Now, the trashy girl was definitely his type. But he had a feeling Taehyung liked them... More modest.

His eyes spotted a blonde to his left. He should hurry if he wants to get any head.

•·················•·················•

You pulled the man's body to a dark corridor. He wasn't any taller than you, but he definitely knew how to work his kisses down your neck.

He tried to go in for the lips, but each time he went for it, you rolled your hips against his.

The man smirked, pushing a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden feeling. You wrapped one leg across his waist, grinding into him vigorously. Your back arched off the wall with each roll of your body.

Dry humping wasn't head, but for now, it will do.

"Mmm, Taehyung..." His name leaving your lips as you got closer to your high. You froze. The music covered your voice. Nobody could hear you. But you heard you.

The man pressed into you one last time, reaching his high. Thrown off, you released a fake moan, making it seem like you came with him. You had tears in your eyes.

You felt embrassed, ashamed, disgusted. Why were you thinking about him today of all days. Fuck. You pushed past the guy, shirking his hands of you as you pushed into the crowd to disappear.

You needed a drink.

You wiped your tears as you pushed into the open. Your vision was slightly blurred. You could barely focus on anything while fighting off your on-coming panic attack. You thought you were done with these episodes. You thought you were free. Free from all these lies. The emptiness was creeping back in.

The loud music, the thousands of voices, the headache ramming into your temples. Your breath wavered as you ordered your drink, you could barely remember anything past muttering a small request for the drink with the highest alcohol concentration. You needed to be bat shit drunk. Right now.

You placed your head in your hands, plugging your ears. You started counting from a hundred backwards, keeping the tears from flowing down your eyes.

100

97...

"Here's a Hapsburg."

You immediately snatched the drink off the counter, pouring the liquid down your throat. There was no burning sensation, no instant buzz, no urge to throw up. Your drink tasted like sparkling water.

•·················•·················•

Taehyung was debating whether or not he would actually fire his dongsaeng. That would be the sixth time he fired him. He'd end up hiring him again anyways. Why draw up all the paperwork?

Because Jungkook hated the paperwork.

"Give me your strongest shot." Taehyung heard a voice struggle out a few seats from him. A girl stumbled into the seat, burying her face into her heads like she was about to throw up.

Taehyung was about to turn away when his eyes caught the dress of the girl. The pattern at the waist, the hook placement, the small K tie at the hips. He must be mistaken. But he couldn't.

"Whatever you have that can get me bat-shit drunk." He heard the girl mumble out. Her head was ducked between her elbows like she was muffling her ears.

Now that Taehyung was actually listening, he noticed how their voices sounded... Exactly the same.

The first few months apart, Taehyung mistook many girls as his Y/n. Everyone looked like her from afar. He saw her face everywhere. Even at his father's funeral, staring down at his father's corpse, Taehyung couldn't help but see Y/n's face which scared him out of his mind.

It had been two years. He couldn't be relapsing into his old habits.

Taehyung reached for his coat, turning to walk away, but he couldn't bring his feat to move. Something told him, his Insanity, his obsession, his greed, everything he buried all the years ago.

He lost the struggle. He knew the moment he felt his feet walking towards the woman.

"Here's a Hapsburg." Taehyung took another step, slipping his glass in front of the drink. The vodka was obviously spiked with some drug. The way the bartender was eyeing her, he couldn't trust it.

Taehyung swallowed as the girl pulled her face out of her hands, throwing her head back to down the Canada dry.

Taehyung almost lost his footing when he saw her face. It was, it was exactly as he remembered.

His mind was playing tricks. He knew it.

But the way her mascara was smudged at the edges, the trails of tears down her cheek, the rough scar at her temple. He had never seen her, he had never seen her like this... Like him.

Taehyung rested his hand at the glass on Y/n's side, boring his eyes into her face, studying every inch till their eyes met.

•·················•·················•

You turned your gaze to catch a pair of distant brown irises. The bartender must have slipped in something for you to be this detached from reality.

You wanted to laugh. What cruel game is god playing with you now? The trunk, the memories, the episodes, today, and now this?

You chuckled bitterly. If this is what you needed to do to get over him, to get over this hallucination, you were going to have to make different decisions.

You eyed the stranger's lips.

You needed to get over him right now. If you didn't deal with whatever mental revelation this was, you were sure you were going to go crazy.

You were off the stool in seconds. You reached out for the man's tie, pulling his lips against yours. You could feel his shock just as much as you could feel your own.

His lips tasted exactly like Taehyung. You didn't think past the hallucination, all the pain and feeling pouring back into you through just the contact of his lips. You moved your lips, throwing your arms around his neck, feeling hungry and unsatisfied.

Taehyung responded moments later, getting lost in your lips in just seconds. Each taste of your red lips on his flipped his insides in a way that nothing has.

This being real or unreal was something you both couldn't care enough to think about.

Your bodies guided towards the back entrance of the club, behind the corner of a hallway which gave you just enough privacy to hear the sound of your lips on each other's.

The feeling of being whole again pulled you bodies together like magnets.

Your hands disappeared into his hair, digging into the slightly longer blonde locks. His strands were soft underneath your finger tips.

Taehyung wrapped his left arm around your waist, holding you close like you were going to runaway or disappear at any moment. His right hand glided up your back to cub the back of your neck.

"Get off him." Jungkook's growl shocked Taehyung and yourself out of the small trance that trapped you in the capsules of the past.

You both pulled apart, eyes wide.

"What do you want? More money? Wasn't the modeling job not enough?"

You were too shocked to understand any words that left Jungkook's lips. You couldn't believe the person in front of you was the same man who left you to rot.

"Modeling job?" Taehyung was pulled out of his shock at the sudden revelation.

"You knew where she was?"

"I set her up with the job. I guess she depletes the salary so fast, she needs to get into bed with a new money bag every week. She was over you, I -"

"You lied to me."

Taehyung was in front of you. His hair was actually blond now. He looked older, taller, different. He was dressed in an Italian knit suit that hugged his new frame.

He almost looked like his father.

That's when it hit you. Taehyung left you to take over his father's company, marry whatever shit whore his dad had lined out for him.

He - Taehyung was in front of you. He was in front of you, talking to Jungkook. All the anger, pain, fear, shame. Everything came crashing out at the same time. You couldn't get a single word out. You couldn't get a single breath out. You weren't breathing.

You begin to hyperventilate, trying to get your lungs to work again, but the weight of everything was holding you down. It was like you forgot how to breath.

You turned, dashing away as far as you can. Down the corridor was a ladies room. Bile started to rise up the back of your throat as you dashed into a stall.

You emptied your inside over the toilet bowl. Hot tears streaming down your face as you couldn't breath, yet still throwing up. The stress and shock of everything had your body shaking as you threw up another load.

A quick gasp left your lips, which brought the smallest amount of air into your lungs. You wiped you lips with a tissue, crying more vigorously, almost sobbing as you tried to keep your breath steady.

Two years of suffering all came down at once.

You hated him.

You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs.

Slap yourself.

Go back in time and stop yourself from ever meeting him.

To go back in time to stop yourself from taking the Dior contract.

To go back in time to stop yourself from coming here. From kissing Taehyung.

To stop yourself from falling in love again.

For falling in love with the one who broke your heart.

You got me in love again.

•·················•·················•

TBC

Whadya think?

Please comment underneath if you would like a P2, because if it's trash, lemme know rn.

I'll have Put In Work p2 up by tomorrow.

Dua Lipa's album slaps btw, check out all her songs. She makes really good shit. Her song levitating reminds me of the vibe of Dynamite. I'm going to pick another song from the album to write a Jungkook and Jimin imagine.

126 notes · View notes

jinnfires · 5 years ago

Text

Taehyung Imagine

Put In Work

Summary: You haven't exactly been shy in your advances against the most beautiful man you've ever had the pleasure in seeing, but when you're finally brought down from your naive high of being in love, you realize to get the man of your dreams, you need to put in work.

───※ ·❆· ※───

He was older. Mature. He knew what he wanted. His words were far and few between, but every time he spoke, you couldn't help but listen. He had that affect on you, a person who loved speaking for the sake of speaking and never gave more than two shits to whatever another person was saying, but with him, you spoke quieter with more purpose, afraid of missing something he said.

Falling in love with Taehyung was meant to be. He was everything you weren't, pure opposites, yet with aligning values.

The first thing you loved about him was his face, naturally, since it was the first thing you saw your Freshmen year in highschool. He was a nursing student at that time, your father's nurse specifically. You had started flirting immediately with your juvenile searched-up pick up lines.

The second thing you loved about him was about how hard he worked. He knew how to prioritize with a purpose at the age of nineteen. You saw how quickly he advanced through the ranks at his own parent's practice, refusing hand-outs while earning everything himself.

The third thing you loved about him was his personality, his mature and beautiful manner in the way he dealt with you. He was one of the few people that really listened to you, who was there for you when your father passed away, who understood your fear of crying in front of another person. He noticed how you hid layers of pain between mindless craziness and antics with your fast and crazy words, trying to keep everyone around you happy instead of yourself. He knew your words were worth listening to, and you noticed when your birthday past by and he got you a personally crafted frame for your last photo with your dad that you casually mentioned once months ago when you were delusional in tears over the phone with him. Even though he worked all the time, he made it clear that family came first no matter what, and you even noticed how he put you first many times.

He drove up to your school to sign your detention slips when you were acting out in class after your father passed away, missing his own meetings and appointments.

He visited your orchestra and dance performances at school and even taught you how to drive like your father would have if he was still alive. Taehyung was the only one who was really there for you. Your mother traveled and worked to pay the bills, barely having time to give you a call. Your friends left you after your father passed away, they didn't stay by you during your phases like Taehyung did.

Taehyung took your shit. But he didn't take you destroying your life, stepping in during your most self-destructive moments and yelling at you with a calm fury. You even slapped him and told him to get lost, that he wasn't your dad. Any sensible person would have left. Taehyung didn't.

How couldn't you be so deeply in love with the man?

But he only saw you as a little child. You even feared he saw you as his own daughter. You didn't see him that way. You saw him as family, but as the kind of person who you would spend the rest of your life beside. It wasn't just juvenile love. You knew you needed this man in your life. He brought the best out in you, his personality fit with yours like a puzzle piece. Your dynamics were too perfect to ignore. You weren't delusional when you felt that you belonged with each other.

But only you saw that.

Today, you became an official adult. Your senior year exams were over. You already got into college, in London near Taehyung's second practice that he was planning on transferring over to for the next two years. Taehyung didn't know, just like how he didn't know how serious you were with your feelings for him.

But you were going to show him. You were going to put in work.

You watched your reflection. You usually messy thick curls which Taehyung used to call "dog fur" was defined in pinned tumbles down your back in spirals. Your lips were tinted a slight red, mascara and eyeliner making your dark grey eyes stand out even better. Your eyebrows were a deep black that matched your raven hair, which looked beautiful against your olive tan skin. The tight satin red dress that hugged your womanly curves was hidden behind a long dark coat, matching maroon heels that elongated your stunning legs with a panty hose and garter chain hidden under.

You looked nothing like that little kid that followed Taehyung around like a lost puppy. You were going to show him that today.

Despite your calm and seductive appearance hidden behind the trench coat, you were freaking out on the inside. You were going to fucking seduce Taehyung! You weren't expecting to go all the way, but you still had your entire body waxed and bathed a thousand times.

It's okay, you'll figure it out when you get there. You've watched enough movies to see how women seduced men.

Sex shouldn't be that hard, right? How does sex work again?

You've never even masturbated before.

Fuck, could you really figure this all out by yourself?

Snap out of it! You can do this! You look absolutely stunning. You're a D cup with grade A ass, you'll be fine!

But what if he thinks your fat? What if you break him?

Taehyung was quite lean and skinny, but sometimes you caught some hidden muscle from under his old nursing scrubs that barely reached his forearms. You caught a slight peak at him when he was changing and caught a slight image of his lean abs. His thighs were quite muscular too.

Your waist and arms were skinny enough from months of exercising preparing for this, but you still felt slightly conscious.

You're eyes caught an old champagne bottle hidden far in the cupboard. You've never drank before, and technically you're not allowed to drink till 21, but you needed the confidence boost. You uncorked the top, the stench of the vile liquid causing you to gag. Pinching your nose, you downed a mouthful.

The concoction burnt the back of your throat, but you didn't feel the anxiety go away, just the sudden urge to throw up, which should be a miracle because you avoided eating all day so you wouldn't throw up - or bloat - or have bad breath. You took another swing without waiting, but something caused you to spit some of it out. The buzz began to hit you.

You set the bottle down, feeling your inhibitions begin to fade as the minutes ticked by. Alcohol seemed to have slowed time down because by the time you made it outside Taehyung's house, it was a good deal past midnight. The uber behind you kept trying to pass comments at you, trying to get into your pants, but thankfully you weren't that faded that your survival instincts didn't forget to mention you had "a husband in the military" and that "he was expecting you at home".

Feeling slightly more sober from the ride here, you took another swig of the bottle that hid you hid under the sleeve of your coat. You waited a minute outside his door before you rung the bell - the obnoxious way you always rung his door bell to let him know it was you.

You gave yourself a quick glance at your reflection in one of his windows. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you looked stunning. Your makeup was natural, making your tan skin look golden even in the dark of night. Your large innocent eyes looked more feline-like and seductive and your large heart-shaped plump lips were the perfect shade of red. You pulled the collar of the coat back, the edges of your collar bones pushing through.

Quickly hiding the bottle behind a bush, you returned to the front door just as you heard the door click open.

You were met with the sight of a messy-haired Taehyung, his chestnut brown hair looking like someone ran a hand through it obsessively. That was going to be your place someday. He had on a pair of dress pants and slightly unbuttoned dress shirt with a loosened tie that barely hung around his neck. He must have fell asleep at his desk again.

His glasses looked crooked on his face like he just shoved it on in a rush, but the sight of him like that made your stomach swirl with a different kind of feeling - or that was the alcohol slowly burning your stomach into oblivion.

Taehyung's eyes looked confused at first before they narrowed in, taking in your appearance.

"Y/n?"

You didn't wait for him to say anything and pushed past him into his house. Maybe it was the way he was dressed, or the alcohol, or the adrenaline coursing through your veins, or your years of being absolutely in love with the man in front of you, but you weren't going to give up or chicken out.

"Shut the door." You commanded.

Your voice didn't sound childish or carefree like it usually did. You sounded authoritative, as if you were growling at him.

Taehyung complied, still absolutely sleepy and confused. Seeing you at his door steps at 1 AM, that too dressed the way you were, Taehyung didn't know whether to be concerned or shocked.

But it was your eighteenth birthday.

He thought he would finish all his work tonight so he could spend all day with you, but this was a surprise. There was something about you that looked different. Or seemed different.

Taehyung charted his list of questions as he followed you up the stairs. Where were you going?

You stomped up the stairs, still in your heels. Normally Taehyung would scold you for wearing your shoes inside, but that just goes to show how out of it he was.

Your heart pounded in you chest as you neared his bedroom. You swallowed before turning the handle into his private chambers.

"Y/n?" Taehyung called after you, but that only forced you to walk in farther.

The bed was a large Kings. The Large room was everything you expected from Taehyung. Neat and clean, posh and expensive, but not excessive. The bed looked barely touched. The fire place was thankfully running, the smell of fresh oak filling the room. You loved this scent. No wonder Taehyung always smelled like cinnamon and pine.

You turned to catch Taehyung at the doorway, running a frustrated hand through his fluffy hair.

"What are you doing Y/n? Why are you wearing makeup? Why are you in heels? Where were you? Who were you with?" For the first time, you heard Taehyung say more in a minute then you've ever heard before. He must have truly been concerned. But you didn't want his concern. You came here for something else.

"Do you remember the first time we met, four winters ago, around this time of the year?" You asked, being uncharacteristically serious and quiet.

"I remember..." Taehyung seemed to have calm down as the memory slipped into his mind. He remembered how small you were, how vibrant and childish your brace-filled smile was. You were just an innocent child that had to watch her father slowly die all while sporting a large smile on her face.

Remembering you then and looking at you now, Taehyung felt slightly different. You didn't look like that little kid anymore. Something was different. It was off. Taehyung didn't say anything and let you get to the point, letting his serious stoic and quiet persona slip back into place.

As expected, you never let your question hang for more than a minute. You answered it yourself.

"I asked you if you would be mine..." You remember flirting with Taehyung and troubling him everyday to get a date with him. He finally bought you ice cream, patronising the little kid you were, but to you, that was your first date.

You asked Taehyung to marry you. Suprisingly, instead of ignoring you, Taehyung gave you an answer with a small smile.

"You told me to grow up well first, and I did... Because you were with me at every cross roads. I'm the fine woman I am today because of you, which is why I come to you as I am now and ask you again. Be mine Tae."

You turned to look at him. His austere expression was the same. You could feel the dismissal in his eyes as he looked at you the same way he did all those years ago, like you were a little child.

You bit your lip, feeling anger and frustration fill you.

Your lips opened again, words leaving in a rush of fury.

"I'm serious damnit! I love you - I'm fucking in love with you! I'm absolutely crazy in love. You need to take me seriously!"

Taehyung was still quiet. The crackling of wood filled the quiet between you.

The gaze in Taehyung's eyes shifted into something else, something more intense and intimidating. He started to walk towards you, calmly stalking towards you like a panther. The thrumming of your heart began to pound out of your chest as he got closer to you.

You instinctively took a few steps back until your back was pressed flat against the wall. Taehyung didn't stop. He inched closer and closer till his face hovered over yours. His serious eyes burned into yours as his intense eye contact forced your gaze to meet his. The scent of him filled your nose like a drug, making your stomach swirl again. He leaned in closer, lips barely touching your left lobe.

He quietly whispered into your ear, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive part of your neck.

"Prove it then."

You froze.

All the alcohol in your system vanished at that very second as you instantly sobered up.

What the fuck are you supposed to do?

Taehyung sensed your hesitation, breaking out in a small well hidden smile before his face morphed back to his candid stone cold expression. He backed away, the closeness of his warmth leaving yours.

"You're still a child. You can sleep here, I'm going to finish my work."

No. No. No.

This was going all wrong.

Panic filled you as he walked towards the door. The world was moving into slow motion. You couldn't possibly be chickening out right now.

The sound of the door opening put all your life decisions on hold as you spurred into action. You dashed up behind him and slammed the door shut in front of him. The adrenaline didn't let you waste anytime as you flipped Taehyung around, pressing his back into the door as you caged him in between your arms.

"I'll prove it."

Your hand reached for his tie, pulling him closer to your face. The sudden action caused Taehyung's eyes to widen in suprise.

"I love you more than my own life, and I'm going to prove it to you." You stared deeply into his brown eyes with oceans of love that you reserved only for him. You knew then that you weren't going to regret anything. You would never regret anything as long as Taehyung was by your side. You were willing to give him all of you, starting with your lips.

You inched in slowly, pressing your red lips against his warms soft pink lips. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end at the foreign sensation. You hadn't kissed anyone before. You thought you would know what to do, but you only had your lips pressed against his.

It was just a peck goddamn it!

"Kiss me you idiot! I don't know how to kiss!" You whisper yelled into his ear.

Taehyung looked more amused than shocked. You marched in here calling yourself a woman but barely knew how to kiss. It was so typically you.

"I don't kiss girls, especially when they're drunk."

You were biting your lips again, frustration pulling you into a rampage.

You were going to wing it, just like that time you climbed into the driver's seat when Taehyung was giving you a lesson. You almost crashed, but the key thing to remember is that you didn't crash.

You tried to remember how your friend explained kissing to you a few months ago. You weren't really close to her to be having this conversation, but you had heard she was one of the most experienced girls at your school. It was kind of embarrassing because she was a year below you, but you took her advice nonetheless.

You wrapped your arms around Taehyung's neck and pulled his lips back into yours, this time with more force. You parted your lips to capture his bottom lip, slightly tugging on it before angling your head to suck his upper lip. Taehyung's eyes went wide as you caught his lips between your teeth, suprised at your initiative.

He tried to pull away but you pulled him closer into you, pressing him farther against the wall as you kissed him deeper. Taehyung held your shoulders and gently pushed you off him, catching his breath in between gasps.

"What are you doing?" He said slightly louder and more sternly.

"I'm trying to have sex with you."

Taehyung's eyes went wide at your bluntness. "You're trying to have sex with me? What is wrong with you?"

You felt your heart slightly crack at his words. You knew rejection was a reality, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much.

Taehyung must have saw the pain in your eyes because his gaze softened.

"Y/n... I can't give you what you want... I'm moving to London, for two years."

"I know." You quickly interrupted him. "I got into Cambridge."

Taehyung's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting you to know, or to... Try and leave with him... He felt his heart soften at how much you really did love him.

Taehyung loved you too... But... He wasn't sure if it was the way you wanted. He still saw you as the little kid that trailed him at the hospital ward.

He couldn't lead you on... But, the feeling of your lips against his had something stirring in his heart. He felt something different, something he wasn't supposed to. He himself didn't know how he felt about you, he couldn't let you go on any farther.

"Y/n, I don't know if I can love you like that."

"I'm not asking you to love me, I'm asking you to put in work. You've been there for me through my toughest moments. You've helped me become the woman I am now. I know I can't make you love me, but... I believe in this. I believe in us. Please give me a chance, please. If you still don't want me, I'll - I'll get lost..."

Taehyung grazed the side of your cheek. "I don't want you out of my life. You're very important to me Y/n, which is why I can't let you do this. I can't let you get hurt."

"If it isn't you Tae, it's going to be someone else. I'd rather be with someone I trust, someone I feel safe with, someone who I know will never let me suffer and will always be there for me, even if I slap you and scream at you."

Taehyung brought a hand to tuck a stray curl behind your ear.

"You don't know what you're asking from me."

That's it. You've had it. You chewed the inside of you cheek, feeling your flaring temper push you into a dangerous mood.

"Shut up Mr. Kim and get on the bed." You pulled his collar and pushed him onto the mattress, the sudden movement throwing him off balance and onto the comforter.

You stared into his shocked eyes and shrugged off the coat, revealing yourself in your tight red dress.

Taehyung felt his eyes instinctively drag down your body, realizing you were serious about wanting to have sex with him.

"If you stop me, I'm just going to find another guy to have me tonight."

You tossed your curls messily over your shoulder as you crawled onto the bed, on top of Taehyung's body. You didn't let your eyes leave his even once, the years of pent up frustration charging your body like a battery.

Taehyung watched you crawl across his body, his breath hitching with your deep eye contact. He needed to stop this. Stop you. But he froze in his spot.

You placed a cold hand against his warm cheek as you inched into his lips again, touching them lightly with yours.

"Kiss me you asshole," you whispered over his lips.

You hungrily presses your lips against his soft pink strawberry lined lips, repeating your earlier actions. You sat on his torso, pushing your body against his, pressing your breasts flush against his chest.

Taehyung reluctantly returned the exchange, warily pressing his own lips into yours, keeping his hands at his sides.

He took one step, so you took two steps. Your hands reached up to grab his fluffy locks, running your hands through his scalp while softly tugging at the strands.

You both gently pulled apart, panting. The sight of the stoic Taehyung under you with flushed cheeks, panting, was an image you would never forget. It made you bolder, seeing how you made him feel.

"Put your hands on me, please." You begged.

Taehyung's resolve melted like it always did whenever you asked anything of him. He was torn between giving you what you wanted and preserving your happiness. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if you regretted it, if he, in any way, hurt you. He wouldn't be able to take it. You meant more to him than that.

You were more to him than a lover. He himself didn't know what he felt for you, but all he knew was that it ran deep enough that a single tear or tantrum of yours threw him off for the rest of the day and night. He knew he couldn't rest until you were well and happy.

He found you beautiful. Your strength, your smile, your happiness, everything about you had him walking in circles - circles around you. He revolved around you.

But was it the way you wanted?

Taehyung gazed deeply into your grey eyes. The innocent naivety was the same despite your new appearance. You still looked at him with all the love and adoration in the world, just like you had all those years ago.

He let his hands slide over the small of your waist, his fingers barely skimming the fabric of your dress.

You stared warmly into his eyes, letting your hands wander from his brown locks down the side of his jaw, dragging your nails over the skin of his neck. You pulled the tie of his neck, letting the collar of his shirt pop open enough to catch a glimpse of the smooth bare skin of his collar bones.

You placed your lips on the underside of his chin, kissing down his adam's apple. You let your hands grab his shoulders to steady yourself as you lowered your body on his. Taehyung grabbed your waist with more certainty has breathing hitched at your feathered kisses.

He could barely think with your lips on him.

Your lips sucked and nipped at his skin, the feeling making Taehyung's resolve weaken as he felt his grip tighten around you. If your touch was as infectious as you, he knew he was going to have to pry you off him before you went anymore farther.

"Y/n, stop."

Hearing his words brought you to your senses. How could he only think about getting away from you? Were you that repulsive?

You pulled yourself off of him to sit up on the farthest side of the bed, your back turned to him. You hugged your arms, a sudden chill grasping your body into it's embrace.

"Do you dislike it that much?"

Each second that passed tore down every bit of confidence you had left. You felt your eyes grow heavy with tears.

"I - no, Y/n. I just don't know how I feel about you. I don't want you to regret it."

"That's for me to decide. I'm not a little kid anymore."

Taehyung heard your voice crack, the pain in it instantly making him regret everything. He shouldn't have let this go on for as long as it did. He should have turned you down from the beginning.

"Y/n. All I know is that you're an important person in my life. Your happiness means everything to me. I consider you closer than most of my family. You're the only person I trust with the truth, which is why I'm going to tell you that I don't see you as anything but you, Y/n." His words were slow and rhythmic, like honey and whistling humming birds.

"Does my touch mean anything to you?" You asked, your voice losing its small waver from earlier.

...

"It means so much that I can't let you waste it on me."

"That's my decision."

"It's mine too."

You turned to catch Taehyung's eyes again. A dark look in your eye. He had his austere expression again. You could never tell what he was thinking. But for the first time, you knew he couldn't tell what you were thinking either.

You reached down to your ankles and unbuckled the heels. It didn't take long before you crawled back onto him, a different and darker resolve in your eyes. You sat yourself dangerously low on him, exactly on his pelvic bone. You dragged your hands up the buttons of his shirt, slowly taking them apart as you got higher on his body.

Taehyung grabbed your wrists as you got to his third button, a warning in his eyes.

You pulled yourself up by his ear, whispering in the most gutteral voice you could muster.

"If you don't fuck me, I'll find someone who can." Almost instinctively, to show him you were serious, you rolled your hips against his. The sudden contact of your clothed body against his own had Taehyung's breath catch in his throat. Each touch you were giving him was luring him farther and farther away from his sanity. He was becoming addicted to the feeling of you on him, and he couldn't allow himself to lose himself in your touch again.

"Y/n-"

You slammed your lips against his, grinding against him again. The dress rid up your thighs that straddled his hips against the mattress.

His lips gasped at the contact, allowing you access to his mouth. You pushed your tongue passed his, remembering how your friend taught you to tie a string with your tongue. You did the same thing to his lips.

Taehyung kissed back instinctively, the sensation over powering him as you pressed your breasts into his barely clad chest. Taehyung gripped your hips to stop you, but you only pushed down on him farther, rolling your hips into his again.

A small sound left your lips. You moaned into Taehyung's mouth at the feeling of something pressing against your woman hood.

Taehyung turned his head to the side, flipping your bodies over swiftly on the mattress.

"It's late, you should go to bed. We'll talk in the morning." Taehyung got off the bed, lips swollen hair a mess.

"Please, Y/n."

You looked daringly into Taehyung's eyes, deciding another approach. You were desperate. You were desperate for him to touch you. All inhibitions were thrown out the window as you dragged your hands down your body like you saw in the videos.

You let your hands slide down the valley of your breasts, arching your body upwards, pressing your chest into the air. You cupped your breasts over the fabric of the dress and squeezed the large mound that didn't even fit your palm. You moaned Taehyung's name, staring into his eyes and you touched yourself.

Taehyung's eyes widened at the sight of you under him, touching yourself and moaning his name. He felt part of his sanity snap. All rationality went away as you stared into his eyes, the need and adoration in your gaze.

"Fuck."

You got up on your elbows, heat pooling in your stomach as you noticed his eyes glaze over. Taehyung's cuss was a growl which sent your head spinning. You wrapped your legs around Taehyung and twisted him back on the bed. He was sitting up this time, with you in his lap.

"Kiss me till I see stars."

Taehyung was lost. All he could see was your lips. All he could feel was your body against his. All he could see was you. You opened a Pandora's box that was never meant to be opened.

Taehyung stared into your eyes, all the reasons he loved you morphing into a singular will. He loved you. He wanted to touch you. But he didn't want to rush anything.

He pressed his lips into yours, gently leading the kiss with a hand on your lower back. The dress barely covered your bottom after riding up high enough. You sat against his jeans, feeling something firm pressing against your lower lips under your pantyhose.

Your pressed yourself against him, riding against his arousal under his pants. Taehyung pulled away from your lips instantly, but you weren't ready to let go.

"Please, let me just have this, only this."

"Y/n-"

"Please Tae. Please."

Taehyung looked into your eyes, looking for any regret or fear. He saw no second thoughts. He was having his own, but knowing you, you wouldn't leave till you got what you wanted.

You reached for his hands, placing his long veiny fingers on the flesh of your upper thighs. Taehyung hooked his thumbs under the garter, using the leverage to pull you closer into his body.

Lips were back on each other in no time.

You rolled your hips against Taehyung's, moaning into each other's mouths. Taehyung used the Garter to better control your movement. You pressed your breasts against his, the slight bounce pushing against his chest.

Something started to pool in your stomach, like a heavy knot of tension.

Your pooled your lips off his, opening your eyes to catch his own.

"I want you to watch me. Only me." Taehyung complied, staring into your eyes as you ground against his erection. You both quietly moaned each other names as you sped up to release the tension.

Taehyung reached down to grab the base of your ass to pull you closer into him as he joined in on the rhythm.

Taehyung started to guide your hips so that you were bouncing up and down on him. You got faster and faster as both your breasts rolled against his chest, getting closer to the edge of the cliff.

Looking into Taehyung's warm brown eyes was like a drug. The way he watched your chest bounce through your red satin dress as your eyes rolled backwards . Everything about the view was perfect.

Watching him intently gazing into your eyes, panting and breathing through seductive moans.

You were sure that the way Taehyung looked at you was the way you watched him everyday. Fear, excitement and love battled through his emotions, but he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.

"Keep going, let me watch you grind into me while I make you cum." You kissed into his jaw.

The dirty talk pushed the speed till you felt on the edge of snapping.

"Taehyung-" You pushed out as the tightening knot snapped, sending your full body shaking as you convulsed around the man you were in love with for the past four years.

Taehyung leaned forward to kiss your forehead before lowering your tired form onto his bed.

"Stay with me." You grabbed his wrist as he tried to get up.

"You already gave me an orgasm, might as well share the bed with me."

Taehyung looked down at you apprehensively. He knew he needed to get away from you to be able to sort out his thoughts. Sleeping next to you, especially after what you to did, would make it even harder for him.

He used an excuse.

"I have some work left. I'll let you wash up and catch some sleep before we talk tomorrow."

Taehyung ran a hand through your curls, spinning them in place with extra care.

"I'll see you in the morning."

───※ ·❆· ※───

TBC

(I actually ran out of space typing)

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