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mercurygguk · 1 year

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if it’s not you · kth (m)

↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; 8,582

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff

warnings; making out, dirty talk, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, possessive/jealous and slightly insecure taetae <3

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; it’s here!!!! the taehyung fic i’ve been wanting to write for SO long ughhhdjsk i really hope you like it and that you enjoy it despite all the hurt and angst heh – please let me know what you think! comment, reblog, send me an ask – whatever you feel most comfortable with!! everything is greatly appreciated <3 thank you sm for reading muah

ps. a big thank you to @kookingtae once again for beta-ing for me and for helping me brainstorm for the smut scene <33 ur the best ily thank you for your support and help!

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when he’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don��t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he didn’t realize though when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this until you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?

In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love someone with just half a heart.

Not when someone else has the other half.

“Hey, isn’t that ____?”

Taehyung is pulled from his thoughts by Jimin, his best friend since high school and the only person who would be able to recognize his ex-girlfriend from miles away – even after two years have gone by.

“Yep,” Taehyung curtly replies and brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip. The heavy, dark taste of whiskey burns his throat on the way down but he welcomes it, suddenly in desperate need of feeling something that isn’t the tug on the strings of his half heart.

Jimin’s face scrunches up in confusion, “who’s the guy?”

I don’t know, Jimin. Does it look like I’ve stayed in touch with her since she walked out on me? Do you think she’d be across the room, in another man’s embrace, if I had stayed in touch with her?

Instead of saying that, Taehyung shrugs ‘carelessly’ and takes another sip of his drink, eyes following you as you and your date move towards the newly-engaged couple.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You look so different and yet the exact same.

Every move of your body and expression on your face twist in the most beautiful, hypnotizing way as always. Your hair is shorter, he notices, but it suits you. You’re glowing from across the room and your smile lights up the entire apartment when you throw your head back in laughter.

It travels across the room and reaches Taehyung’s ears, cutting straight through the music flowing from the stereo. The pretty sound causes his chest to fill with a familiar warmth. Except this time it isn’t him who’s on the receiving end of your smile and gentle touch; your date is. As much as it bothers him, Taehyung can’t stop watching you as you talk with the hosts, wishing them congratulations on their engagement, and handing them the gift you brought along. And then you introduce the man next to you, a bright smile on your face as you watch them shake hands.

Something vile rises within Taehyung at the sight. He knows he has no right to feel like this but something about the way you’re introducing this random guy to you and Taehyung’s shared friends doesn’t sit right with him. It used to be you and him, attending every get-together together. You always arrived hand in hand, all smiles and good vibes because nothing could stop the two of you from touching each other, from being attached at all times – from being in love.

“Jia didn’t mention anything about a new boyfriend,” Jimin mutters from next to Taehyung. The annoyed glare he shoots at his best friend causes Jimin to shrug innocently, “I mean – I think, of all people, she would know if ____ was seeing someone.”

Jia is a shared friend between you and Jimin. While Jia is one of your best friends, Jia and Jimin are more than friends but not quite enough to be considered a couple. They will get there eventually – Jimin just needs to get his head out of his own ass and ask the poor girl on a date instead of only showing up at her doorstep for some fun in bed. Jia is waiting patiently for him to make the next move but Jimin isn’t that smart when it comes to serious relationships.

“Don’t you have something else to do rather than talking my ear off about my ex and her date?”

The bitterness on Taehyung’s tongue feels odd but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen you once in two years after you left that night and now you’re here, looking beautiful as ever with another man by your side.

Jealousy has never been something Taehyung cared much for. He never had a reason to but as you let your date wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer, the jealousy washes away every rational thought he’s had since he saw you walk through the door.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath before he disappears from Taehyung’s side, leaving him to stand there while rolling the glass of whiskey in his hand, dark and glaring eyes shooting daggers at the man you brought along tonight.

However, it seems his glare from across the room also grazes you as you turn your head to look around. Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when your eyes meet his and he can tell you let out a gasp once you realize just who exactly you’re locking eyes with. Your date asks you if something’s wrong and you shake your head in response, telling him it’s nothing.

Taehyung’s body heats up with a familiar tingling feeling that feels all too normal and yet it’s a strange sensation. He hasn’t felt what he just felt in two years, the different women he’s slept with or been out with have never once caused warmth and excitement to spread through his entire body as the ones he just felt. Not a single woman has managed to trigger Taehyung’s interest in more than just a one-night-stand.

But, of course, it’s you.

Who else would light a fire in his soul but the same woman who blew it out a few years ago?

The irony almost makes Taehyung huff out an unimpressed chuckle. He fights it and pushes it back but it's no use as you decide to raise your hand and give him a small wave, a hesitant smile on your lips as you do. Taehyung lets the chuckle leave him, shaking his head in disbelief, watching your smile falter into a soft frown.

You left him.

You walked out of the door two years ago and dropped off earth’s surface until tonight. Taehyung only knew you were alive and well thanks to social media and your circle of shared friends, not that it was much help. His so-called friends weren't very cooperative every time he’d ask about you. Especially when he would visit Jimin and Jia would be there – that woman kept all the news about you behind locked lips whenever Taehyung was around.

So, when it really comes down to it, Taehyung has no idea what you've been doing for two years. All he knows is that you went overseas to live and work there, making the distance between you and him bigger than he’d expected when he watched you walk out of the home you once shared. Taehyung doesn’t understand why you bolted out of the country as soon as you could – what you went looking for, he doesn’t know. Probably no one knows – except for your parents maybe.

All Taehyung is hoping for is that he wasn’t the reason.

Thoughts like ‘how long have you been seeing this guy’ and ‘did you even think about me once while you were overseas, living a brand new life’ fill Taehyung’s head as he downs the rest of his drink. He steals one last glance at you, catching your eyes for a split-second before heading towards the kitchen of this penthouse apartment he currently finds himself in. He can feel your eyes on him as he slips his way through other guests but he keeps his own eyes focused on the whiskey bottle he spots on the kitchen island.

Once he reaches it, he uncaps it and pours himself another glass. He takes a swig of the brown liquor, sighing deeply as he feels the strong and burning sensation in his throat.

“Slow down there, tiger.”

Taehyung freezes in his spot, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips to take another slurp when a familiar voice fills the kitchen. His chest tightens for a split-second before he turns around to face the person he’s been thinking about non-stop since she left.

You’re flashing a smile at him when he turns around, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes as your real smile would. He notices because he always notices. It’s one of the many things you can’t hide from him. No matter how much you try to plaster on a fake smile, he’ll always know when it’s real or not.

When he doesn’t reply to your teasing comment, you pull your lips into a thin line as you cautiously step closer.

He can’t stop staring at you.

When you left your shared home two years ago on the worst night of Taehyung’s life, he had no idea when he would see you again. Back then he had hoped you’d regret your choice of moving out and come back to him, tell him that you made a mistake, that not being with him was the only thing you couldn’t get yourself to do.

But it never happened – and two years passed.

“How have you been?” You ask, voice small and careful as if you’re afraid he’ll scream at you and throw all his pent up anger at you as the first thing.

Taehyung finally manages to take his eyes off you, shifting them to look at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls the liquid around a few times before looking up again, a faint and slightly sad smile on his face.

“Okay,” he responds. “Given the circumstances, that is.”

He can tell that you know exactly what he means, the frown on your face giving it away. It makes a short chuckle leave his lips because it’s kind of comical how you haven’t seen each other in two years and the first time you meet again is at an engagement party – the type of party you were both so sure you’d throw sooner or later had it not been for the fact that the universe wanted it differently.

“You brought a date,” Taehyung breaks the silence hanging over you.

Your lips part in surprise. You did not expect your ex-boyfriend to ask about your date, but then again, you should’ve seen it coming.

“Uh, yeah, he’s–” you begin, not sure what or where to start. Taehyung watches you intently, curious to hear your response. You feel a strong urge to explain yourself to him, why you don’t know. “It’s nothing serious– it’s very new, so…”

“I see,” Taehyung hums and takes another sip of his whiskey, the alcohol still burning and strong on his tongue.

“Hey, about–,” you begin but the shake of Taehyung’s head causes you to stay quiet.

“We don’t have to do that,” he simply says. You frown deeply as he glances over your shoulder at your date. “I’m over it and it seems you are too.”

“But–”

“It’s good to see you again, ____.”

With that Taehyung grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey off the table and leaves the kitchen, a breath of relief escaping him. It’s gonna take a lot of alcohol to get through tonight with you being in the same room, so close yet so far – not his to touch or hold, the only thing that is his are the memories of doing exactly that in the past.

And nothing has ever left a more bitter taste in his mouth before.

As the party carries on, Taehyung has been drinking more whiskey. He’s not drunk per say but he’s definitely tipsy and it shows as he stands in a corner alongside Jimin and Namjoon. He’s not paying attention to their conversation, too busy watching you and your date mingling.

Taehyung is not much for admitting it but he’s been keeping an eye on your date all night, watching how he acts around you. He’s not afraid to touch you, that’s for sure, the constant placement of his hand on your lower back is a giveaway. However, he hasn’t seen the two of you kiss or anything of the sort ever since you arrived. It’s odd because, of all people, Taehyung knows that you’re not one to shy away from PDA. You were never big on it but you never despised it either.

“Tae, stop staring,” Jimin’s voice penetrates his focused thoughts. Taehyung tears his eyes from you to look at his best friend. Jimin gives him a look, one he can’t help but laugh at. Taehyung pushes himself up from his leaning position against the wall, standing to his full height. Jimin grabs his arm. “I’m serious, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Relax,” Taehyung smirks. “I’m just gonna introduce myself, that’s it.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink, “sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Exactly,” Jimin pointedly agrees with him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Taehyung shrugs off Jimin’s hand, shooting his friends a glare, “I’m not gonna ruin anything.”

Before his friends can try and talk him out of it again, he wanders off towards you and your date – a dark-haired guy who seems friendly, boring even, and nothing like the type of guy Taehyung had imagined you’d go for.

You don’t notice Taehyung’s presence until he’s standing right next to you, offering a hand to your date. Your eyes widen in surprise, eyes shifting between your ex-boyfriend, his offered hand and your date for the night. You can’t help the small sliver of panic within your chest as you watch them interact.

“Hey man, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he greets him, “I’m Taehyung.”

“Jinyoung,” your date replies, giving Taehyung’s hand a weak shake without much thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Taehyung smirks, eyeing Jinyoung up and down for a moment, wondering where on earth you managed to run into this guy and why you thought of bringing him to your friends’ engagement party. The majority of the people here know you and once this guy isn’t part of your life anymore, you’ll spend your energy explaining why at the next event.

“Taehyung is, um…” You begin, turning to Jinyoung to provide some information as to why he would suddenly come over and introduce himself like this. “He’s my, uh–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung finishes for you. He watches in satisfaction as Jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, the faint hints of intimidation evident in them. “We broke up two years ago.”

“Oh, well, I had no idea there was an… ex-boyfriend,” Jinyoung trails off, glancing at you in confusion.

Your attention, however, is aimed at Taehyung, “Tae, can we talk–”

“Did you know ____ fled the country after breaking up with me?” Taehyung lets out a sarcastic laugh, watching how Jinyoung almost squirms in discomfort. Bet he didn’t sign up for a meeting with the ex-boyfriend when he said yes to join you tonight. “Is that where she met you or?”

Your jaw tightens as you place a hand on Taehyung’s arm, catching his attention. He glances at your hand and then you, eyes meeting yours. He notices the desperation in them, the grip you have on his arm.

“Can I talk to you under four eyes? Now, please.”

He smiles at you, a tipsy smile but endearing nonetheless.

“Absolutely,” he tells you before glancing back at Jinyoung. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Jinyoung looks confused and awkward as Taehyung flashes him a fake smile before allowing himself to be dragged away by you. It isn’t until you’re in a secluded corner of your friends’ penthouse, you let go of his arm. Taehyung leans against the wall, a small smirk on his face as you stare at him for a moment before your face morphs into disbelief.

“What the hell was that all about?”

He shrugs, “I was just introducing myself.”

You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, “oh, is that what it was? How silly of me to think you were trying to measure your dick with his!”

He huffs out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t have to and you know it.”

Your mouth falls open at his cocky behavior. Whoever this man in front of you is, you don’t know him. He is not the man you broke up with two years ago, he’s not even a shadow of the man you were hopelessly in love with once.

Taehyung watches your expression fall as if realization hits you square in the face. His ego covers it up perfectly but it hurts seeing the realization on your face, his heart sinking to his stomach as he realizes himself what you just realized –neither of you are the same people you were two years ago. And for some reason that realization hurts more than he thought it would because change is supposed to be good, right?

“Maybe breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake after all,” you tell him, eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. Taehyung frowns as the words leave your lips. “You’re an asshole.”

“____, I–”

You shake your head before turning on your heel, heading back to Jinyoung who’s been watching the two of you with worried eyes. Taehyung catches Jinyoung’s gaze over your shoulder, the judgemental look he shoots at him bruising his ego. However, the sight of your hand slipping into Jinyoung’s bruises his heart as he watches you and your date bid the engaged couple goodbye before leaving the penthouse.

Hand in hand.

Loud knocking wakes Taehyung up the following morning. He squints an eye open, the bright light coming from the morning sun hitting him straight in the face. He lets out a low groan, dropping his head back into the softness of his pillows. He forgot to pull the curtains when he came home last night. It happens too often after a night out – a bad habit, really.

The knocking disappears for a moment before it returns, more persistent this time around. With a sigh, Taehyung gets himself out of bed, slipping on a t-shirt and sweatpants before sauntering towards his front door.

Who in the world could be rapping their knuckles on his door this early on a sunday morning?

He glances towards the kitchen, eyes squinting to read the red numbers on the oven. His eyebrows lift in surprise. It’s not morning anymore, it’s past noon and someone is very persistent on the other side of the door. Once he reaches the door, he sneaks a peek through the peephole, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes who’s on the other side. His forehead connects with the surface of the door as a low ‘fuck’ leaves his lips.

Inhaling sharply, he grabs the door handle and pulls the door open.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

Taehyung sees no point in greeting you first, the question flying from his mouth before he can process it properly. He’s surprised to see you on his doorstep after what happened at the engagement party last night. When he came home and plopped into his bed, he had been thinking about whether or not he should seek you out to talk things through. He never got the chance to think further about it before sleep overtook and pulled him under.

“We need to talk,” you tell him, pushing past him, shoulder bumping his.

Taehyung closes the door after you before following you further into his home. You stand by his bookshelf, several feet away from him. He watches you as you look around, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants to keep them from feeling restless.

“How do you know where I live?” He decides to ask after a moment of intense silence.

You turn to face him from your new spot by the big window, the view from it being of a park with endless rows of trees and bushes, the colors of them ranging from green to brown to orange to yellow.

“Jimin told me,” you tell him, “but that’s not important – what the hell was your problem last night?”

Taehyung shrugs, “nothing… I was just introducing myself.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your pretty lips, a look of amusement on your face.

“Bullshit, Tae,” you protest. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and you pull a stunt like that? It’s not like you.”

He can’t help but scoff.

Not like him?

It’s not like him to spend two years watching women come and go in his home. It’s not like him to let the woman he loves leave him and not do shit about it for two years. It’s not like him to not care about love at all. It’s not like him to lose all faith and belief in the great love of his life but he did and it’s your fault. You made him what he is today. You up and left, leaving him because ‘things weren’t the way they used to be’. He accepted what you wanted because you were so certain that was what you wanted at the time. He shouldn’t have but he did because he loved you and he’d rather love you from a distance than keep you in a place that didn’t make you happy.

Blaming you isn’t right but it’s always easier to blame someone else than yourself.

“I pulled a stunt?” The anger that’s starting to boil within him laces within his voice as he moves closer. Your eyes are locked with his as he slowly moves across the room, nearing you. “You’re the one who brought a fucking date, _____! You knew I would be there and yet you thought ‘hey, let me bring a date and introduce him to everyone there while my ex is in the same fucking room’!”

You let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s been two years, Taehyung! For all I know, you could’ve brought someone too!”

The frustration is seeping through his veins as he steps closer, only a few feet from you at this point. You’re close and he can touch you if he just reaches his hands out to you but you’ve never felt farther away. Had he known two years ago that it would come to this, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of the door that night. He would’ve fought for you, told you that you would figure things out together. That he would do his utmost best to make you happy – no matter the sacrifices he would have to make.

“Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been for the past two years? Do you know how many times I’ve asked about you only to get no answers from anyone?”

The guilt is evident on your face as he takes the risk and steps even closer. He can feel the warmth radiating off your body now, the close proximity doing nothing to calm his thundering heart.

“Have you ever, just for a second, thought about how fucking hard it’s been after you left and fled the fucking country?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t–”

Taehyung can’t fight the dry laugh leaving him, “I begged you to stay, ____. I was begging you but you left anyway and for what?”

He watches as you shrug helplessly, mouth opening and closing while you try to decipher what to say, how to explain. He would appreciate an explanation – ‘things aren’t the way they used to be’ isn’t enough anymore.

“I… I had some stuff I needed to figure out,” you mutter.

“We could’ve figured it out together!” He argues, hands thrown out in pure frustration.

The shake of your head has Taehyung frowning deeply. You look away, unable to watch the way his face falls as the words leave your lips, “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. I had to leave. It was what was best for us back then–”

“No,” he mutters, voice soft and filled with sorrow, “you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

You feel him step back, taking his warmth with him. He sits down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as an exasperated sigh leaves his chest. You cross your arms over your chest; the act doing nothing to comfort yourself but doing enough to keep yourself warm after he removed himself from right in front of you.

Unsure, what to do, you sit down on the window pane, watching the man you used to be inseparable from. He looks tired and not because you forced him out of bed by knocking on his door. He looks like the past two years have been nothing but hell for him – and you believe it. Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done but it was necessary in order to find yourself.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” you quietly tell him, eyes dropping to look at the wooden floor instead of him.

You feel his eyes on you, heavy and filled with longing, hurt and love.

“I knew you’d never let me go if I told you everything,” you continue when he stays silent. “I lost myself, Tae… And I knew as long as I wasn’t at peace with myself, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way you deserved.”

You take a chance and look up, your eyes meeting his in an instant. You feel your heart skip a beat, a pain so strong it’s almost unbearable shooting through your body. Taehyung’s eyes are glossy as he watches you make your way to where he sits on the couch. You kneel in front of him, your hands finding his in a weak attempt to comfort him but you know nothing could possibly remove the two years of pain and anger he’s been through.

He stays quiet, eyes skimming your face as you sit in front of him.

“Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” you softly tell him and feel a tightness in your throat. You bite back the tears but your voice betrays you as you speak up again. “And while… While trying to figure my shit out, I realized that you and I–”

Taehyung’s hands engulf yours, fingers slipping through yours to intertwine them. Pain is etched onto his face as you sniffle, one of his hands reaching up to wipe away the one teardrop that managed to escape just now.

“I realized that you and I were the only thing in my life that actually made sense but it was too late.”

“Baby…” Taehyung begins, the nickname leaving him before he can think about it and the appropriateness of it.

You shake your head, “I left you, Tae. I left and, like you said, I fled the country like a coward when all I had to do was talk to the people around me and find another way.”

The tears won’t stop coming at this point and it’s then Taehyung realizes that it was never about him. It has always been about you and how you felt; not your feelings for him but for yourself. If only you had talked to him, reached out to him and asked for help – he would’ve stepped in and done whatever it would take to make you happy again.

“I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” you cry, the sheer realization of just how much unnecessary pain you’ve caused him seems like the worst thing you ever could’ve done. You hurt the man you love and now it’s hurting you – well-deserved one might say. “God, you must hate me so much.”

“No, hey,” Taehyung calls softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears away. You look up at him, tear-filled eyes meeting his glossy ones. He smiles at you through the build-up tears in his dark brown eyes. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“But–”

He shakes his head, “sure, I’m pissed at you for leaving. But I could never hate you, _____.”

The way he says it with such tenderness and softness makes your bottom lip quiver, fresh tears coming to the surface but it’s not an issue – Taehyung wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, smiling softly at you. Why he’s comforting you rather than kicking you out of his home is a mystery to you, one you probably won’t ever solve. But you’ll take it, the feeling of his hands touching you again similar to the feeling of finally drinking water again after spending days in the desert. Or when you finally get to sleep after a really, really long and stressful day.

Comforting. Healing. Loving.

“I’m sorry,” you softly say, voice so quiet and soft as if the atmosphere would break into a million pieces if you spoke any louder. Your heart is beating hard, thundering at 110 miles per hour. Taehyung is leaning closer, a magnetic pull between him and you causing him to do so. It’s impossible to stay away, especially after you sat down in front of him.

Taehyung huffs out a soft chuckle, the air brushing your lips. He whispers, “stop apologizing.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, causing Taehyung to let another chuckle escape before softly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

The world stops spinning and your heart stops beating for a second, the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on yours so familiar you might start crying again. It’s like returning home after years of chaotic traveling, the familiarity of it so comforting and perfect. You sigh deeply, melting against him, hands gripping his forearms as if to support yourself. Then a soft moan escapes you and Taehyung tilts his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping inside and touching yours, warm and wet and so addicting.

In need of more, you get up and push him back on the couch. He welcomes you onto his lap, pulling you closer, hands gripping your waist tightly, fingertips digging into your sides. The kisses you share are soft, passionate, and filled with words and affection you’ve kept inside for two years. Things you never got to say and affection you never got to show – all of it being poured into the kisses, deep and scorching hot.

Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him so close your noses are squishes together. He moans against your lips when your hips sink down on him, grinding against him. He feels himself grow harder, blood rushing to his cock in seconds as you continue your movements.

“Tae…” You whimper softly when his hands slide underneath your top, warm palms sliding over the expanse of your back, nails digging into your skin. “Need you– please…”

In reality, you’re not his to touch and kiss. You haven’t been for two years. When this weekend is over, you’ll both go back to your everyday lives, return to reality – realities where neither of you are in each other’s.

“What about Jinyoung?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“He went back home this morning,” you tell him, your words causing a sliver of hope to appear in Taehyung’s chest. You smile softly, fingers playing with the curly strands of black hair at the back of his neck. You shrug with a sigh, “he asked about us, I told him the truth. He left.”

“What truth?”

The question is careful but Taehyung needs to know.

“That I’m still in love with you,” you quietly admit.

If you can’t feel the harsh beating of Taehyung’s heart, you surely must be able to hear it. It’s pounding against his rib cage, making it hard for him to breathe as he stares at you. A million thoughts are running through his mind but the only thing he can focus on is the overwhelming urge to kiss you like the world is ending, worship you and make up for lost time.

“I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me for what I did,” you softly say. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance to-“

Taehyung cuts you off by crashing his mouth to yours; desperate, needy, eager and rushed. A whimpering moan escapes you and travels into his mouth, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the pretty sound.

“I forgive you,” he says between kisses as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders. You help him get rid of it, lips never leaving his as you continue to kiss. You have two years to catch up on – two years equals a lot of kisses and a lot of making love. You inhale deeply when he pulls away, hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. His eyes stare into yours, dark and filled with so many emotions you can barely keep track. “Don’t make me regret it.”

You shake your head, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” he whispers before pulling you back in for more, unable to stop for long.

The next clothing items to go are your top and his t-shirt as you tug it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor along with your jacket. Taehyung lets out a breathless moan against your mouth when you slide your hands up his abdomen, fingertips brushing over his chest and nipples. He groans as your nails dig into his skin, hands tightly gripping onto your thighs in a wordless response.

“Lay down,” he tells you, voice raspy from making out.

With one last soft kiss to his lips, you do as told. You lay down on the couch, watching him as he gets up on his feet, getting rid of his sweatpants. His eyes roam your body, grazing your skin and curves, taking it all in while feeling a wave of memories washing over him. It brings a feeling he can’t quite pinpoint to his chest, heart tightening as you offer him a soft smile.

Home.

That’s what he feels.

He finally feels at home again after two years of feeling like he didn’t belong in this new apartment of his; an apartment he found a few months after you left. He couldn’t stand being in the one you used to share because it didn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s when you sit up on the couch, your hand reaching for his to bring him back to you, that he realizes that no place will ever feel like home unless you’re there.

You’re his home – he belongs with you.

And you belong with him.

“Come back to me,” you whisper softly when he crawls onto the couch, hovering over you. His eyes shift between yours, three words he hasn’t said out loud to anyone but you at the tip of his tongue. “Tae…–”

“I love you.”

Your words get trapped in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest as the three magical words bring a new kind of warmth to your entire body.

“I love you too.”

The rest is a blur – the way he kisses you deeply and passionately like it’s the last time, the sound of your pretty moans reaching his ears like a melody he’ll never get tired of, the feeling of his hands on your body, caressing you, taking you in and remembering everything about you; every dip and curve of your body. Every uneven texture of your skin, every dimple and small spot that makes you you.

“You’re mine,” he rasps against your chest as he trails it with kisses, your bra no longer covering you, giving him free access to all of you. His lips brush your nipple, another delicate moan escaping your lips at the feeling. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

“Yes– Oh my god,” You gasp, surprise shooting through you as he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking. Your back arches into him as one of his hands cups the other breast, squeezing and caressing it in the most caring way possible.

That’s the thing about Taehyung – he can be rough both verbally and physically but he knows how you like it and he never strays far away from it. He’ll caress your body and worship it like you’re a goddess while arousing you with his words, dirty words falling from his lips without a struggle. It’s the perfect mix of everything; the best of both worlds basically.

You whimper softly when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before letting go, leaving it wet and swollen as he moves further down your naked body. Your legs spread automatically when he reaches your core, his mouth hovering above your heat as he glances up at you. A small smirk spreads across his face as he watches you run your hands over your stomach and all the way up to cup your own breasts. You bite your lip, eyes closed as you await his touch.

“Tell me, baby,” he hums, leaving a soft kiss on your hip bone. “Did you miss this?”

You hum in response, fingers pinching your nipples as you feel his breath on your core.

“Words,” he reminds you, “I need your words.”

Your eyes peep open to glance down at him, the sight of him between your legs, messy and curly hair and swollen, plump lips twisted into a teasing smirk enough to cause you to let out a soft moan.

“Yes,” you tell him, breathlessly. “I missed you, missed your touch– please, Tae…”

The sound of you begging for him to touch you causes a feeling of pride to fill his entire body, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. He hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss to your folds. You whimper softly, the hints of whine following.

“I’ll be honest,” the air from his words brushes your soaked core, a shiver running through your body. His hands tighten around your thighs as he brings them over his shoulders to pull you closer to his face. “I missed having you like this, too.”

Before you can even think of a response to his confession, his mouth is on you. You gasp in surprise, hands reaching for him to grab his hair, the couch, his hand – anything. Taehyung offers one of his hands, locking it with yours. Your fingers slip between his, your grip tight as he eats you out, his tongue licking your folds. You’re whimpering above him, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit over and over again before he sucks it causing your moans to become higher and more whiny as he works you closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry, thighs trembling as you feel your orgasm coming. Taehyung keeps your legs spread open with his free hand, his grip on you so strong you’re unable to escape the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm. “Tae, I’m close– fuckfuckfuck–”

An immense wave of pleasure washes over you, a guttural moan leaving your pretty lips as you tumble over the edge, abdomen tightening as you come. Taehyung moans against you as he continues to help you through it, licking up your juices, the slurping noises lewd and explicit enough to bring a heat to your face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, a smile on your face as Taehyung crawls back up. You sigh deeply as he leans down and presses a row of kisses onto your jaw and cheek, one of his hands sliding up your thigh.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, face inches from yours as his eyes meet yours.

You nod, smiling, “I feel great.”

He smiles softly as he leans down, connecting his mouth with yours. You’re able to taste yourself on his tongue as it brushes yours, the taste arousing and dirty but so hot, you might lose your mind.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groans as he grinds against you, the only thing keeping him from slipping inside being his boxers. His cock twitches in its confinements, eager to be let free, eager to be buried deeply within your warmth. “Wanna make love to you, baby– show you how much I’ve missed you…”

“Do it, Tae,” you urge him on, hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers, “show me.”

With his help, you manage to free his hard cock, his boxers ending up on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your hand wraps around his length, a soft groan escaping his lips as he drops his head to your shoulder. You pump him a few times before guiding the tip to your entrance, softly gasping when you feel it nested between your folds.

Taehyung takes over, replacing your hand with his own. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, lips catching his in a kiss. He takes this as his chance to slip inside, pushing against your entrance until he’s past your folds. You both moan against each other’s mouth as he sinks inside, the length and girth of him stretching you out. He moves slowly, sliding further inside inch after inch, carefully.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans once he bottoms out, every inch of him engulfed by your warm walls. His breathing is ragged as he stays still for a moment. “I’ll never get used to this.”

You smile at his comment, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Well, you better,” you tell him. “Because this time it’s forever.”

His heart skips a beat in his chest before he huffs out a strained laugh, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making it difficult for him to get words out.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

You shrug and smirks playfully, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a challenging promise.”

He scoffs in amusement but doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back inside of you, hard and precise. The action leaves you gasping, back arching as he hits a sweet spot within you. He continues the action, pulling out and thrusting back in over and over again, fucking you hard but slow, his shaft brushing against your clit for every thrust.

“Fuck– feels good,” you whimper as he hooks a hand underneath your leg to change the angle of his thrusts. Your mouth falls open as he slides in even deeper, his tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He watches you nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you suppress a moan. “Did he ever have you like this, huh? Did he ever make you feel like this?”

Taehyung knows expecting you to not have been with anyone since you broke up is a long stretch. The only thing that bothers him is if you’ve been with the one man he met and talked to last night. The thought of you and him together brings a bitter taste to his mouth and he just needs you to deny it.

The sudden possessive tone of his words has your heart beating faster. He doesn’t have to mention any name for you to know who he’s referring to. Like you said when you first talked to Taehyung at the party, you and Jinyoung’s relationship was nothing serious, very new and not intimate at all. You had barely kissed him properly – something held you back every time it would take a turn into something more.

The look in Taehyung’s eyes tells you he needs to know. He needs to know if you ever gave that part of yourself to Jinyoung.

“No,” you tell him, keeping eye contact as you answer him, hoping it’ll give him the peace of mind that he needs. Taehyung’s face softens as he lets his forehead drop to yours, his breath clashing against your face. You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his jawline where faint stubble is starting to appear. “He didn’t.”

The relief that runs through Taehyung’s body is evident in his kiss as he connects his mouth with yours, his free hand reaching up to grab one of yours. He intertwines your hands, bringing it above your head as he returns to the task at hand – getting you both to the edge.

The constant touch of his tip to a certain spot within you has you reaching another orgasm faster than you’re prepared for. It washes over you in huge waves, running through your body with such force your walls tighten around him. Taehyung moans deeply, his thrusts becoming uneven as he, too, reaches his high. Soft words of encouragement reach his ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. Your fingers slide into his thick, black hair while your other hand tightens its grip around his.

He lowly groans as he stills within you, spurts of hot and white cum painting your walls as he comes, “shit–”

Hours later you’re watching Taehyung’s fingers play with yours as he holds your hand up in the air, both of you watching it as a comfortable silence surrounds you. It’s nice – to be cuddled up with him again after so long. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until you saw him last night. But despite the blissful atmosphere, there’s still an underlying tension of something that you need to talk about. Whether it’s your guilt for leaving or his regret for not fighting more is unknown.

“I wish I could go back in time,” you suddenly break the silence.

“Why do you say that?”

Taehyung brings your hand down, intertwining them instead as he leaves them to lay on top of the blanket covering your naked bodies. You continue to stare at your intertwined hands, wondering how it’s possible to match so perfectly with someone only for you to leave for two years despite them being where you belong.

“I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

Taehyung stays quiet for a moment before speaking up, “you can’t change the past, baby.”

His voice is delicate and soft, comforting.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just hate that I caused you so much pain. It was unnecessary and uncalled for. I should’ve just talked to you about it instead.”

“I think a lot of things could’ve been avoided if we had just talked about it but like I said… You can’t change the past,” he carefully grabs your chin to make you look at him. “Besides, we found our way back, right? We got a second chance at this, at us. Let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

A smile spreads across your face as you lean up and kiss him, the kiss soft yet deep and filled with the things you still haven’t said; apologies, I love you’s, promises and everything in between.

Taehyung sighs deeply against your lips, cupping your face, “I missed kissing you.”

You can’t help but grin against his mouth, “keep doing it then.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he tells you, a squeal escaping you as he rolls over, trapping you beneath him. He dips down and kisses you again, this time with more force and eagerness.

That great love in life that everyone keeps talking about is really not worth much if it’s not with the right person. Taehyung used to believe that there was only one true love for everyone. Two years ago, he lost all belief in that. There was no point in looking for that great, true love because he already had it and he lost it. And even if there is more than one true love for everyone, he wouldn’t want it if it’s not you.

It seems his beliefs have been restored.

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dollfacerecs · 8 months

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fic recs by clover. 🍀

♢ hi, i’m clover! i’m an author and my main account is @dollfaceksj. by popular demand, here is my fic recommendation blog!

♢ she // her ; 23 ; nsfw

♢ my own masterlist

♢ more about me here

most of these will be nsfw works so minors are NOT welcome here. please, do make sure to read the warnings on the original posts!

ps: all of these are member(s) x reader fics.

⋆⋆ ➳ kim namjoon.

⋆⋆ ➳ kim seokjin.

⋆⋆ ➳ min yoongi.

⋆⋆ ➳ jung hoseok.

⋆⋆ ➳ park jimin.

⋆⋆ ➳ kim taehyung.

⋆⋆ ➳ jeon jungkook.

⋆⋆ ➳ multiple members.

all credits to the authors.

* * *

disclaimer: some of these i read a long time ago, some of these recently. ever since starting my own fanfic account in may 2023, i haven’t had much time to read so if some of the statuses/info are inaccurate, i apologize. some of these are from like 2017. 😭

much love to these authors. support them be reblogging and leaving feedback! ♡

— 🍀

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jenniejjun · 1 year

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PARIS.

PAR: jennie x leitora!fem x taehyung

GÊNERO: smut e fluff

avisos: muita cachorrice, fingering, oral fem (leitora e jennie recebem), não fica claro mas taehyung muito service dom, leitora!sub, a famosa homenagem, nipple play, scissoring, squirting, clit play, muitas declarações de amor porque eles estão em Paris né bem, relação contínua e duradoura (entre três partes)

PS.: gente, eu achei esse smut bem fraquinho em questões de sexo mesmo mas achei o dirty talk dele tão gostosinho. só queria postar esse logo mesmo pra falar que as asks tão abertas e se vocês quiseram mandar algum pedido, é só ir no homenzinho do meu perfil e clicar em mandar ask. ainda não sei como funciona esse negócio mas por enquanto tá tudo aberto, smut, fluff, hard/soft hours e sla kkkkkkk

Você esperava na cama como a boa namorada que era, Jennie estreava em Cannes essa noite enquanto Taehyung marcava presença em um evento importante da Celine. Muito já havia acontecido naquela semana para que você quebrasse as regras e os desapontasse, eles precisavam de controle em pelo menos uma coisa agora e se você pudesse providenciar isso que fosse.

Mas era difícil com toda aquela expectativa borbulhando dentro de você. Era inútil trocar mensagens, já sabia disso, então se limitava ao que os fãs diziam sobre eles no Twitter. Jennie estava divina, se recordava exatamente de como ela tinha ficado contente quando elogiou a roupa dela junto de Tae. O branco fazia com que parecesse um anjo. Enquanto seu namorado fazia de tudo para parecer o melhor pedaço de mau-caminho possível, era puro sex appeal.

Não faltava muito para chegarem em casa e você já tinha sido tão boa, esperando na cama com o par de lingerie que Jennie havia escolhido e os louboutins favoritos de Taehyung. Precisava de apenas algumas horas para encontrá-los, mas foi impossível impedir a maneira como seus dedos brincavam por si só ansiosos. Passeando desde sua mandíbula até o mamilo esquerdo que endurecia com o tesão.

Você circulou com a unha fina, como Jennie adorava fazer, por cima do bojo e abriu as pernas sentindo o frio do ar gelado do quarto de hotel bater entre suas pernas. Continuou o movimento leve e até então inofensivo, até que a pressão sútil não fosse suficiente fazendo com que um de seus seios pulasse para fora do sutiã com sua ajuda. A protuberância da auréola te fez morder o lábio para conter o sorriso safado.

“Olha só o que nós temos aqui.”, a voz de Jennie se fez presente no cômodo tirando sua atenção. A coreana pairava na entrada do quarto com seus saltos em mãos, a roupa era diferente agora. Muito provavelmente tinha voltado do after há pouco, Taehyung estava encostado do lado dela. “Florzinha…”

Você virou a cabeça para o outro lado para esconder a expressão travessa, e a repentina vergonha. O espelho ao lado da cama lhe dava a visão perfeita de seus olhos puxadinhos avaliando seu corpo, os de Jennie encaravam a forma como você segurava suas coxas, provavelmente imaginando a sensação molhada que deveria carregar ali. Taehyung traçava um caminho invisível de seus cabelos emaranhados e seu mamilo eriçado e descoberto.

“Poxa, amor, achei que tínhamos um trato.”, sussurrou o Kim retirando o paletó. Jennie também retirava seu corpete.

A visão do tronco nu da cantora pareceu ter um impacto em você que já se sentava na cama esperando a aproximação, no entanto, Jennie sorriu selando seus lábios suavemente antes de lhe empurrar. Você franziu o cenho confusa e irritada.

“Já que quis se comportar mal, tem que ser castigada, não acha? O que você acha, querido?”, questionou ela, os braços finos abraçando a cintura já desnuda do rapaz. Taehyung se encontrava desabotoando a calça. Ele assentiu ao mesmo tempo que você negou.

“Acho que a nossa garotinha precisa se lembrar de quem manda aqui.”

“Qual é, vocês dois. Eu nem fiz nada, olha! Nem tinha começado a me tocar!”, você teimou. Um beiço adorável se formava.

“Mas ia começar.”, cortou Taehyung cruelmente. “Agora vai deitar aí e assistir enquanto eu fodo a nossa Jen com a minha língua.”

“E você vai se tocar.”

Incrédula, você assistiu enquanto Jennie se apoiava na parede do quarto e tinha a saia arrancada. Completamente desnuda quando você notou que ela não trajava vestimentas íntimas, a buceta carente brilhando na luz amarelada do local. Um gemido arrastado escapou de forma sensual dos lábios da Kim, as pernas abertas e jogadas pelos ombros do astro.

Jennie jogava a cabeça pra trás aumentando a voz com cada gemido enquanto você via a língua de Taehyung passear com fome pela intimidade molhada, fechou os olhos momentaneamente imaginando como seria se fosse você ali. Como tantas vezes foi, se divertia lembrando das tardes em que revezavam para lamber seu canalzinho apertado.

“Não ‘tô vendo você se tocar, meu amor. Sabe que se não fizer, é pior.”, ameaçou Jennie ofegante. Uma mão nos cabelos bagunçados do Kim entre suas pernas e a outra circulando o seio direito, rodando o mamilo sensível entre os dedos. “Se toca pra mim, vai. Enfia esses dedos nessa sua bucetinha apertada do jeito que eu sei que você fica louca quando eu faço.”

Você gemeu manhosa com a lembrança. Se livrando da peça de sutiã, você se sentou com as pernas abertas para ele sentindo o olhar oscilante de Taehyung sobre si também. De relance, pegou o momento em que a mão do coreano adentrou as próprias calças para se tocar. Sôfrega, você jogou a cabeça para trás lambendo os dedos e os enfiando de uma vez lá dentro.

“Mais forte, gatinha. Senta com vontade.”, a voz de Jennie instigou enquanto você rebolava contra seus próprios dedos. A buceta latejava com o tesão do momento, contorcendo os dedos lá dentro e forçando a fricção de sua palma com o clítoris, você sentia o orgasmo se aproximando. “Porra, você é tão linda. Ela não é linda, Tete?”

No momento, você não tinha os olhos abertos. Não mais, respirava pesado e gemia cada vez mais alto. Agudo e fino enquanto fodia os dedos pra dentro da sua vagina com força, imaginando que eram os dedos de Jennie ali. Levando a outra mão ao seu pescoço, você aplicou somente força suficiente para lhe causar uma leve sensação de tontura. Gemeu mais alto. As costas entrando em contato com o colchão quando de repente, sua estimulação para.

“A mais linda e mais gostosa.”, o Kim se materializou em sua frente, segurando seus pulsos contra o colchão. Você abriu os olhos desnorteada e choramingando. Jennie subia a cama lentamente se sentando em cima de você, a bucetinha molhada e vermelha dela na sua necessitada.

“Eu tava quase lá!”, você reclamou batendo as perninhas no colchão, os pulsos tentando se livrar do aperto do Kim.

“Não reclama, gatinha, ou te prendo nessa cama e te faço gozar até você desmaiar.”, retrucou ele. De cima, Jennie riu se movimentando.

Você gemeu, uma de suas pernas era segurada por ela enquanto se esfregava em você.

“Jeeeeen…”, você arrastou sofrida, levantando os quadris de encontro aos dela. “Por favor.”

Ela assentiu compadecida, os dedinhos entrando em contato com seu clítoris em movimentos circulares. As pernas de Taehyung prendiam seus pulsos para evitar a comoção enquanto as mãos torciam seus mamilos sensíveis, o busto já estava vermelho com a estimulação e os sons finos que saíam de garganta já denunciam o quão perto estava de novo.

“Eu amo tanto vocês, tanto que— Ah, porra, bem aí— parece que eu vou explodir, às vezes.”, disse incoerente. A cabecinha virava de um lado para outro em seguida de que o corpo arquejava da cama simultaneamente. A mãozinha buscava o pau teso do namorado no meio de tanta bagunça.

“Você é tão linda, linda pra cacete, amor.”, um deles murmurou. Talvez, os dois. Você não saberia dizer naquele momento. Tão inerte que quando sentiu o corpo relaxar do orgasmo, quase sucumbiu. Sentia o jatinho quente molhar e respingar em suas coxas e barriga.

“E além disso, é gostosa. Que injusto.”, choramingou Jennie dedilhando a bagunça no colchão. Seu esguicho. Você corou conforme era levantada pelos braços fortes de Tae, suas costas desnudas no peitoral dele. “Não fica com vergonha não, sabe que a gente adora quando você faz isso.”

“Que bom que minha desgraça é a alegria de vocês, pra mim, parece que eu me mijei.”, você resmunga tentando puxar as pernas para si mas antes disso, Taehyung as pega lhe puxando para si novamente. Você tenta protestar, mas seria blasfema negar que não estava pronta para ser usada de novo.

“Se for assim, então, você fica linda se mijando toda.”, brincou ele. A gargalhada de Jennie se misturou ao ambiente conforme ela se deitava ao seu lado, tirando as madeixas de seu cabelo do seu rosto e sorrindo aquele sorrisinho gengival que te deixava boba.

“Eu também amo você.”, ela sussurrou antes de te beijar lentamente. A língua de Taehyung fazendo contato com sua intimidade judiada ao mesmo tempo, você abre a boca surpresa e excitada deixando que a língua dela passeia pela sua sensualmente. “Gostosa.”

Você revira os olhos por conta do tesão, não sem antes brincar ofegante:

“Se acha que isso vai me fazer esquecer o que acabou de falar, mocinho…”, a fala foi interrompida por suspiro. A língua dele fazia um vai e vem gostoso na sua entrada.

Jennie tocou seu queixo, os olhos escuros te encarando profundamente enquanto deixava beijos molhados por toda a expansão de seu rosto. “Podemos te ajudar com isso, então. Relaxa e esquece de tudo agora, princesa. Você sempre disse que queria um ménage à trois em Paris.”

Era verdade, você sempre quis mesmo. Que prestativo da parte deles realizar o seu sonho.

#₊‧ ˖ ࣪ ་ 🐇 works by vivi #jennie kim smut #jennie smut #blackpink smut #jennie reactions #jennie fluff #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts smut #screaming crying throwing up

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sweetbirdyy · 3 years

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Entrega de icon no Dynasty graphic shop.

#design #ds #ps #design simples #manipulação de imagem #designsimples #ibis paint x #icons kpop #icon #kim taehyung #icons bts #btsedit #bts

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

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The Final Countdown

pairing; non-idol!kim seokjin, student!kim seokjin x non-idol!reader, student!reader ft. ot7

genre; angst, fluff, s2l, college au, soulmate au

warnings; cursing, jealousy, a lot of college stereotyping, jin is a nerdy fuckboy in this one, but taehyung is worse, reader is very blunt and has no filter, has moments of narcissism, all the boys will make an appearance at some point and interact with reader in…various ways, some flirty, some not

rating; 18+

w/c; 7,125 oops they just keep getting longer

a/n; it’s been awhile since jin has seen some love, so let’s give him some, yeah? having fun with these soulmate au’s, not gonna lie! hope y’all like this one just as much as the others! like + reblog if you enjoyed, and feedback is always appreciated. <3 ps. this wasn't proofread and done through mobile so be kind pls + ty

soulmate au masterlist ~ coming soon!

Kim Seokjin. Certified campus playboy extraordinaire. Known to woo his fellow classmates not only with his good looks, but also his quick wit. His style always stayed on trend. He kept good repertoire with all his teachers, especially with the Dean. He did a lot of community work to add to his stellar college résumé, keeping up his 4.0 GPA despite his nightly and weekend activities with his frat boys, BTS, as they called themselves. No one knew what it stood for. They always seemed to travel in a group, or pairs. Rarely ever were they seen alone other than when partaking in their daily classes.

Kim Namjoon was the right hand man of the playboy, known to have a good head on his shoulders despite his choice of company. He also made sure to keep up with studies and extracurricular activities alike. Always there to bail out his best friend in times of need, and was actually good at keeping decent conversation. Unlike some of the other group members, he was the most pleasant one of the seven. Very respectful towards women, so you’ll have to give him a great mark for that fact.

Keeping up with the Kim’s, there’s Kim Taehyung. He was known as the ‘grandpa’ of the group. His clothes mainly consisted of sweater vests, corduroy pants, and shiny dress shoes. His signature was his various style hats he wore. From Fedora’s, Derby hats, Bowler hats, Newsboy hats, you name it, he’s probably worn it. With his suave charm to match, he always has some girl on his arm. Definitely one to watch out for, despite his nickname.

Jung Hoseok was the labeled ‘sunshine’ of the group. Always sporting a sparkling, white smile on his face whenever you see him. Majority of the time you would hear his loud voice, before seeing his figure literally skipping over to you. He was always on the move it seemed, being a lover of dancing. He always had headphones secured around his neck, when they weren’t positioned on his head. Wearing extremely vibrant colored clothes, it was easy to spot him from a mile away. He was the life of the party, and flirty to boot. If he beckons you with a pick up line that’s ready to fall from his lips at a moments notice, you better beware, cause that meant you were in his line of sight and he always gets what he wants.

Park Jimin shared the same sentiments as his fellow dancer, Hoseok, when it came to dancing. But other than that, they were the complete opposite. He didn’t wear vibrant clothes, but he wore a lot of designer. His grades were average, passable. Which is all he cared about when it came to doing homework. Though, if we’re being honest, a lot of the time it was someone else doing it for him. His charm knew no bounds when it came to the freshmen girls who were oblivious to his underlying motives of sudden attention towards them. But worry you not, he never slept with any of them. He had higher morals than that.

Min Yoongi was the ‘quiet’ one of the group. Like Hoseok, his own pair of headphones were basically attached to his body in some form. Everyone knew that if they were over his ears, you had no chance of getting his attention. So don’t even try. Opting to keep to himself, it was rare to see him in conversation with anyone other than his teachers when needed and his fellow group members. But he had high marks in all his classes, so not even the teachers bothered the reserved student too often. There was even a rumor going around that he must not have any teeth, cause he never smiled. Always wearing the same blank expression on his face, no matter the mood or atmosphere that hung around him.

And last, but not least, was Jeon Jungkook. He was labeled the ‘bad boy’ of the group. Piercings and tattoos alike could be seen on various parts of his pale skin. He always wore his signature leather jacket, never letting it out of his sight on the rare occasion that he took it off. Other than his jacket, his outfit always consisted of his shiny, platform, combat boots and various clothes only in the colors black and white. He carried an aura around him that was intimidating to those that didn’t know the male’s true nature. Which you would soon find out was the complete opposite of what everyone pictured him as, much to your amusement. Oh, and he had the literal voice of an angel.

So there they were, the OT7, as fans of the group called them. The ‘one true seven’. How did you get to know so much about them, and more importantly, why? Well, fortunately for you, it’s because you were assigned to the group to be a mentor of some sort, due to your higher marks and pristine reputation that even surpassed Kim Seokjin’s. Him being none the wiser, still believing that he was the best in his class or of the school itself. The Dean himself appointed you to the position in discretion, his secretary being the one to fill you in on each member, unbeknownst to the seven men. The only catch being, they could never find out what your true intentions were. So it’s like you were undercover. A spy, you thought with glee.

The mission? To survey and get close to Kim Seokjin specifically, and see if he’s truly worthy of receiving the same full ride scholarship that you are to a company only two students get accepted to every four years. Both his dream company, and yours. Luckily, that four years is during your shared senior year. The information you received of his group of friends was solely to help you get close to Seokjin through them. All becoming extremely valuable assets to your cause.

And what the Dean didn’t know, was that you had your own motives. Glancing down at the invisible counter on your wrist that only you could see, you saw the numbers decreasing rapidly. It made your once giddy smile fall flat from your face in humbling realization. You needed to find your soulmate, and you needed to find them, now. Before it was too late and both you and your soulmate would cease to exist, or in other words, you would die. And you couldn’t tell a single soul, which means neither could your soulmate. So no one could help you, but yourself. How fitting. And equally as cruel.

Thankfully, the universe had other plans for you. One being, you were able to receive one hint as to where your soulmate was located. But that one hint could only be revealed when you had 48hrs remaining on your time left. Which is exactly what you had left, give or take a few hours less. And the hint you received?

It wasn’t BTS, it wasn’t OT7, it was just Kim.

That’s all you had to go off, literally. The only way to find out if they truly were your soulmate? A kiss. A fucking kiss. Getting past the fact that it’s so cliche it physically makes your body cringe, you now had to potentially kiss three different guys who shared the same family name. And you weren’t the type of person to just go up to a random guy you never met and kiss them. That’s insane!

With no time to lose, you collected the pile of Manila envelopes that were on the Dean’s desk. Carrying the various confidential intel in your arms, you bowed to them respectfully, and made your way out of the office.

It was time to get to work.

——————————————————————

Your first victim? Kim Namjoon. The one that could hold a decent conversation and was respectful towards women. And with your luck? Hopefully he would be the only one you needed to kiss. Plus, having someone like him wouldn’t be so terrible as a soulmate. He could fit well with your ideals and future plans, you thought with a subtle nod of your head as you approached the unsuspecting male.

He was lost in his own world, reading a book on a bench that was shaded by the tall, full, tree that was located a few feet behind the bench. His legs were crossed, one hand holding the book open in front of his face that adorned his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose and the other was casually leaning against the back of the bench. Your little bookworm heart swooned at the sight before you.

Looking down at your book of choice, ‘The Great Gatsby’, a classic, you walked towards the other side of the bench that was unoccupied and sat down. Sliding down your own reading glasses on the bridge of your nose that were haphazardly just resting on the top of your head previously, you pretended to start reading. And you waited.

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.’”

Grinning to yourself inwardly, your assumptions were correct. The male next to you took the bait you unknowingly dangled in front of him, and couldn’t help but quote the book you were currently ‘reading’. Perfect. Not the quote you would’ve personally went for, but it still works. Now, to turn on the oblivious charm, you thought rather maniacally.

“Excuse me? What was that?” You asked the male next to you with feigned confusion and just a hint of mock anger, making him believe that you thought he was judging you. He couldn’t help but find your expression cute. And your literature of choice made him all the more curious about you. He wanted to find out more.

“I was uh–I was quoting your,” he gestured with the hand that was settled a hair width away on the back of the bench from your shoulder, hand dangling from his wrist, he twisted it, pointing towards your book. “–book. I hope you didn’t think I was judging you.” his eyes went wide with sudden terror. Oh shit. You didn’t think that did you? Now becoming flustered, he tried backtracking his previous, seemingly rude, statement.

“I hope she'll be a fool–that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” You quoted perfectly to the still visibly semi panicking male next to you, deciding to end his torment. Placing a hand over your mouth, you let out a small laugh. You think he had enough for the day.

His panicked face turned into one of relief, body sagging as he let his head fall into the middle of his opened book. Shoulders shaking lightly as he let out a chuckle of his own. Straightening himself up, he doggy eared the page he was reading to mark his place. Shutting the book with a satisfying sound only true bookworms would enjoy.

Turning his body to face you, he let out a dimpled grin. Moving the arm that once rested on the bench, he held out his hand towards you to shake and gave you the luxury of his full name. You returned the sentiment in kind.

“Nice too meet you, y/n. Hopefully, we can see more of each other in the future?” He not so subtly suggested, still wearing the same dimpled grin. How could you say no to that face?

——————————————————————

Having secured a contact with Namjoon during your first successful mission yesterday, where you put your phone number in his phone. You used reverse psychology on him that put the ball solely in his court if he wanted to see you again. He will, you thought confidently. And you know for a fact that they’re having a party tonight he can use as an excuse to hang out with you. Perfecting timing, considering you now have less than 24hrs to find your soulmate, no big deal.

He then calls, or texts. You’ll act like you can’t make it on the facade of having plans with a friend. Then you’ll give false hope that maybe you can, if so and so cancels on you, which they just so happen to randomly get sick out of nowhere. And BOOM. You show up in all your glory, surprising him at the party.

Which is where you were currently at, now.

Your plan working to a T.

With several bodies gyrating next to each other in the cramped house the party was located, your eyes catch sight of your next eligible bachelor, Kim Taehyung. He was leaning with his back against the wall, a random girl you’ve never seen before already pushing her boobs shamelessly into the side of his arm. You could tell he was both aroused, yet unamused at the girl’s antics. He was probably used to girls throwing themselves on him. You were about to change that fact.

Maneuvering your way through the crowd, you hiked up your already short school girl style skirt, showing more of your thighs, leaving what was almost visible to the imagination of wandering eyes. Thigh length, white, long socks encompassed your legs. Feet were clad in your black, red bottom, stilettos. Contrary to your skirt, your boobs were safely tucked away, yet still perky and full, beneath the straining buttons of your white button up, long sleeved blouse. A beige colored sweater vest was worn on top of the long sleeved blouse. And a perfectly placed, black ribbon, was tied neatly in the middle of the vest. You were the epitome of every guys sinful, school girl uniform wearing, wet dreams.

A look that caught Taehyung’s attention the instant you walked right past him, and outside into the almost semi-fresh air, if it wasn’t for the smokers that littered the backyard in groups. If only there was a designated smoking section, you thought bitterly. Not that you weren’t whole pro ‘your body, your choice’. No, you were. And some of the best people you knew chose to smoke, you just hated the putrid smell they emitted once burned. Turning slightly to make your way to the various alcoholic drinks that lay neatly spaced out by type on a large table, courtesy of Namjoon, you have no doubt, him being the perfectionist that he is, you glanced sideways. Sure enough, you could see that he was following you. Success. God, you were good.

Mixing yourself a random concoction of the various alcoholic beverages supplied, you placed the red solo cup to your lips, and taking a swig, you yet again waited. Sure enough, only a few moments later, he sidled up next to you at the table and poured his own choice of drink, whiskey. It suited him, you thought. As soon as he was about to open his mouth and address you, a voice could be heard calling out your name from behind you. Ah, two birds with one stone, you inwardly smirked at your luck. You immediately turned towards the voice, completely ignoring the presence of Taehyung next to you.

“Hey, y/n! Glad to see you made it!” Namjoon gracefully walked up to you, his dimpled grin on full display, one you never got tired of seeing. A smile could be seen on your face as well as you looked at the welcomed intruder.

“Joonie!” You replied with the unsuspecting pet name, hoping it would make the male behind you jealous. Your own smile on full display, only growing wider, upon further realizing a second body appear from behind his figure, flanking him. Jeon Jungkook. Seriously, how good was your luck right now? You should get a lottery ticket!

Mildly amused by the pet name, he laughed. Then proceeded to engulf you in a hug, where you realized just how tall the guy was. Your head barely making it a little below his chest, where his abs surely were. Returning the hug just as enthusiastically, you both pulled away from each other. In that split second, you saw how his eyes traveled down your body, checking you out. He gave another grin of approval, but didn’t outwardly say why he smiled. But you knew. Oh, you knew.

Introducing you to his shadow, who you already knew the name of, you feigned ignorance.

“This is Jungkook, or JK, as we like to call him.” He pointed behind him, where Jungkook still stood, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but this party. That’s something you two could agree on. Surprisingly, he gave you a small smile in greeting, nodding his head at you.

You gave a polite smile back. Glimpsing at his outfit, you saw a small, barely noticeable charm stick out from the black of his leather jacket, what with it being the same color. It was a symbol you only ever saw within the confines of your dorm room, where you played your music loud in your ears so as not to wake your neighbors. So it made no sense why you saw it displayed on Jungkook’s beloved jacket of all places. But, you figured you could use it as a talking point to get the guy to open up to you more.

Stepping to the side of Namjoon, you leaned forward towards Jungkook, making him eye you warily, wondering what the heck you were doing. Namjoon turned his body sideways to watch you himself, curious. And Taehyung just took the divine opportunity to stare at your ass cheeks that were now out in view for him to admire due to you bending over the perfect amount to stare at Jungkook. Much to his disdain, Namjoon noticed him doing so and smacked the pervert upside the back of his head, glaring at him. Taehyung just gave a shrug of his shoulders and gestured to your ass in a silent way of saying ‘well what do you expect, it’s right there’.

Squinting at the upside down font of the artist in question, you had to make sure you were correct before continuing with your plan. You were right. Straightening yourself back up you gave Jungkook a smile.

“I like your charm.” You stated casually. His eyes narrowed in confusion for a second, before widening in disbelief. No one has ever acknowledged the charm on his jacket before. He was starting to like you now, even though you were acting weird just a second ago. He’d look past it though for a fellow Ariana Grande fan.

The comment made Namjoon smile knowingly, and Taehyung scoff from behind his red solo cup he was currently drinking out of. Swirling the cup of whiskey in his hand, he decided to finally join in on the conversation.

“Don’t tell me you’re also a fan of hers? That’s sorely disappointing.” He sighed in disdain, looking at you with half lidded eyes, clearly feeling the effects of his choice of drink already. A lightweight, you thought in amusement. You expected a guy like him to handle his liquor better.

Jungkook was about to speak up in the singer’s defense, like the black knight he is. Much to everyone’s surprise, including his, it was your voice that spoke up before he could. Yeah, he definitely liked you now. Especially after the jab you sent at Taehyung that had him keeling over with laughter that was a rare sight to see. Namjoon joining him in the raucous laughter, gaining the attention of the rest of group members, making them start to walk over to your group.

“Now I get why they call you grandpa!” You snapped your fingers, proceeding to point at Taehyung with your pointer finger, widening your eyes in mock shock. “Cause you nag like one, grandpa.” You emphasized on his nickname, crossing your arms over your chest and popping your hip out to the side in a sassy pose.

You expected Taehyung to get upset and stomp off in hysterics. Not what he did next. Sauntering over to you, unphased, he leaned extremely close to your face. Getting dangerously near your slightly parted lips, he then pivoted towards the side of your ear at the last second. He sultry whispered in your ear something that had you letting out a quiet gasp only he could hear. Your arms tightened underneath your breasts, pushing them up subconsciously into his chest. The cocky bastard smirked knowingly at you.

“That’s not the only reason they call me grandpa, y/n. It’s also because with age, comes experience. And I have tons of experience I wouldn’t mind showing you, all you have to do is ask. I’d love the opportunity to slide your purple thong you’re wearing down those beautiful legs of yours.”

With a kiss on your cheek, he clinked his red solo cup with yours. Taking a swig of his drink, he walked off into the crowd of party goers.

“Sorry about Taehyung, y/n. He means well, just has a funny way of showing it.” Namjoon came to his friend’s defense, as he stared at your still turned back.

“That, and he’s just a cocky asshole.” Jungkook chimed in after him. That one, you could agree with. Just as you were about to turn and face the two, yet another unexpected guest made themselves known. And not the good kind.

Apparently, you pissed off the girl from earlier that was shoving her boobs into his arm. Having witnessed your interaction with him, she probably thought that Taehyung had a genuine interest in you, which, she would be sorely mistaken, you’re sure. She strutted up to you, attempting to look intimidating. Your eyebrows raising to your hairline, you went to ask her what her problem was when she suddenly threw her drink on you, successfully getting your entire top soaked through with what smelled like straight Vodka, unfortunately. What a waste.

“Stay away from my man, you slut.” She sneered at you with her average looking face, you’ll admit. Not even giving you time to reply back, she wandered off in the direction she saw Taehyung go before her little act of vengeance.

Some party goers stopped to watch the show, but most just ignored it completely. They’re probably used to shit like this happening on a daily basis when it comes to these parties.

Without thinking, you grabbed the hem of your sweater vest and pulled it off and over your head, before turning around to face the boys again. With a look of disgust on your face, you flung the soaked material on the beach chair next to you as you spoke your thoughts out loud. You’d collect it later when it hopefully dried up.

“Who the hell just drinks straight up vodka?” All you got in return was silence, which made you confused, so you asked.

“What? What’s wrong?” You asked oblivious to your now see through attire. Forgetting you only wore a long sleeved white blouse underneath your sweater vest. The only thought on your mind being to get out of what clothes you could that made your nostrils flare in disgust, and stomach turn from the onslaught of strong alcohol.

Jungkook wordlessly shrugged off his prized leather jacket, and walked towards you. He shuffled the jacket over your shoulders, gesturing for you to put your arms through the holes, which you complied just as wordlessly. He then proceeded to zip up the jacket with his tattoo clad hand, once again taking a step back from you and giving you your space, but still close enough to hear him whisper his reasoning to you.

“Your shirt turned see through when she threw her drink on you, and you took your vest off, so–,” he awkwardly raised one tattooed hand and gestured to his jacket. “You needed it more than I did.”

When you say that your heart just about burst from the warmth of his heartwarming action–

Not thinking clearly, you threw your arms around the so called ‘bad boy’ and gave him a gentle, but firm hug in thanks. He returned the hug politely, awkwardly patting your back. You could tell he wasn’t used to affection from the opposite sex. It was endearing. Who said chivalry was dead? A voice cut through your your moment with JK. One you’ve been waiting to hear all night. The last Kim on your list, Kim Seokjin.

“Does our JK finally have a girlfriend?” He asked to the embracing duo playfully.

Mutually pulling away from the hug at the same time, Jungkook turned to the older male with a roll of his eyes, just flipping him off with his ring clad finger in the air.

You don’t know why, but as soon as you made eye contact with the eldest member, your body felt like it wanted to turn to mush. You felt hot, and it was a decently cool autumn night. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth out of pure habit and bit down on it with little force. It’s just something you did when your anxiety started to go through the roof as a way to ground yourself again.

A pulsating feeling could be felt coming from your counter, and what felt like a bolt of lightning shot through your arm and straight to your heart, squeezing it painfully. Your counter being something you purposely haven’t looked at all day, in dread of seeing just how much the numbers are quickly changing as the day goes by. A shaky exhale made its way out of your mouth, and you suddenly felt lightheaded. Weird. Very weird.

Taking a small step forward in your heels towards Jin, your ankle decided it was the opportune moment for it to give out. Collectively, there was six pairs of hands out to catch your fall, which you were thankful for. And it was Jin’s that ultimately were connected to the arms that were currently holding the weight of your body up. Heavily leaning against the male, you breathily let out your worries.

“I think–I think something’s wrong?” Your statement came out more like a question when you were done, making all the male’s near you furrow their brows in worry at your sudden state.

“Is she okay?” Min Yoongi’s voice came from out of nowhere. Jung Hoseok’s chimed in voicing his concern as well. Jimin’s head popped up from behind Jin’s shoulder to look at your now dazed face.

Having already finished your drink of choice, you let it fall to the floor. So they couldn’t check to see if maybe someone spiked your drink. But Namjoon saw when you made your drink, and didn’t see anything suspicious happen. However, you made a mixed cocktail of various opened bottles that anyone could’ve slipped something into at some point during the party. Though, looking around, he didn’t see anyone else in the same state as you, so he was out of ideas. Then it hit him, like the genius he is.

Glancing down at his own invisible counter, seeing the numbers not changing much cause he still had a lot of time in finding his soulmate, it made him think of the different textbooks he read on the matter. All the symptoms you’re showing could very well occur due to a harrowing fact that your time was almost up, and your body was starting to shut down prematurely to your end time.

Namjoon cleared his throat loudly to gain the attention of the group of males that still hovered over you with worry on their faces. They looked to him instantly and watched as Namjoon subtly gestured to his wrist. All of their eyes now looking down at their own counters, except for Jin, whose arms were still occupied with holding your body upright. Even Taehyung, who came back to the group upon the whispers he heard inside of what was occurring outside with his friends. All of them shook their heads, silently letting Namjoon know that all of their counters were perfectly fine.

Now it was Jin who suddenly felt all hot and bothered as several pairs of eyes looked at him in wonder. It made him even more flustered, and equally as confused.

“Why are you all staring at me like that?” He asked nervously.

Surprisingly, it was the quiet one that spoke up first among the male’s. Yoongi.

“Jin, check your counter.” He remarked quietly so as not to gain the attention of party goers around him. Once again, he gave a look of confusion, and now frustration. Seriously? Of all things, they think it’s cause of the soulmate shit? Yeah, right. He scoffed inwardly. No way.

It was your pathetic sounding whimper that made Jin feel differently. He looked down at your now closed eyes and saw the visible sweat forming on your now pale face. His whole body reacting when Jungkook came forward to replace his arms with Jin’s in holding you up, stiffening before relaxing because it was just Jungkook, his brother. Except he opted for the ‘bride’ hold, with one arm secured underneath your legs, and the other behind your back. He grunted towards Jin in a ‘hurry the fuck up’ kind of way. You weren’t heavy by any means, no. And he wasn’t necessarily a weakling if the size of his biceps were any consolation. But he would rather not be the center of attention either, holding the now passed out girl in his arms. He didn’t want people to get the wrong idea.

Jin sighed anxiously and shoved the sleeve of the maroon sweater he was wearing up halfway to his elbow, letting him see his counter in full view. He involuntarily gasped in shock, making his friend’s around him stare at him with a look of equal shock. Cause–

“–no fucking way.” Taehyung stated bluntly. And loudly. Getting shushed by all six members and receiving a collective, scathing, ‘shut the fuck up, you idiot!’ said in various different ways. For once, he listened.

“You good man? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked his best friend calmly, but his face showed his true emotions to the matter at hand. If this was real? They needed to help you as soon as possible. Jin needed to help you as soon as possible.

———————————————————————

Not giving Jin the time to stutter out a response, already knowing the answer to his own question by the look Jin still wore plainly on his face, Namjoon realized they should probably take this elsewhere, and away from the million pairs of eyes that surrounded them. Nodding his head towards the direction of the house, they all followed him in a single file line inside. Walking up the stairs that were always off limits to guests, he figured this would be the best bet for some privacy with what little amount of time they apparently had. Jungkook making sure to tuck your head further into the crook of his neck to avoid you hitting your head on the wall as he walked up the stairs carefully with you in his arms.

Opening the door to his master bedroom that could easily fit ten more people, he knew it was more then enough room for all of them to stand or sit comfortably while they figure this out. Filing into the room, Jungkook hastily, but carefully, made his way to the california king sized bed located in the middle of the room and set your passed out body on top of the covers with your head landing on the fluffy pillows. Heaving out a sigh of relief as he felt the weight lift off his shoulders, he stood back up straight and stretched. He needed to start working out more, he vowed internally.

Jin cautiously sat on the bed near your feet, making the bed dip underneath his weight, and your body shift towards him unconsciously. This felt wrong, how his body seemed to naturally want to gravitate towards yours. He physically had to restrain himself from brushing the hair that fell in front of your seemingly peaceful sleeping face with his fingers. He decided it would be best to just sit on his hands to rid himself of the temptation.

Then he spoke the answer everyone was waiting for with bated breath. They stood in a semi circle around him, Namjoon laid a comforting hand on his shoulder in support. Jin gave him a small smile in response to his kind gesture.

“I think she’s my soulmate, my time is almost–,” Jin winced with a sudden pain in his chest, his hand coming up to clutch the area around his heart. His breaths came out in shallow pants. Right, he thought bitterly, you’re not supposed to talk with anyone about it until after you were officially connected to your soulmate. Stupid universal rules.

All the males threw up their hands towards their hyung in worry. Namjoon now opting to kneel next to the inwardly wounded figure in front of him.

“Jin, you know what you need to do, so do it.” He demanded, not going to take no for an answer. Now was not the time for the male to suddenly become shy around women.

“I can’t do it while she’s asleep!” He gestured wildly towards your form on the bed.

“Then wake her up.” Taehyung bluntly said, as if it were that easy. Well, maybe it was just that simple for the grandpa of the group. His antics with the opposite sex clearly impacting his way towards women, making him too abrasive to the situation.

They all collectively deadpanned at Taehyung.

You shifted your body on the bed closer towards Taehyung, your own body wanting to be closer to his. His hands twitched underneath his bottom half of their own accord, making him groan in frustration.

“Jungkook, you wake her up.” Jin announced suddenly, making the maknae’s eyes widen in fear.

“Wh–what?!” He sputtered nervously, eyes meeting his fellow group mates, wanting them to vehemently deny the suggestion for him as if he wasn’t the only one who thought it was a ridiculous thought.

“I literally just met her 20 minutes ago, like the rest of you! Why does it have to be me?!” He pointed to himself to further make his point.

“I was the one that invited her–,” Namjoon meekly tried to input into the conversation, and failed, being ignored.

“You did give her your jacket.” Jimin stated factually, not helping Jungkook in the slightest.

“It’s called being a gentleman! I was just being nice!” He yelled in sheer frustration. Just about ready to pull his hair out of his own head.

“Jesus, can you all just shut up for five seconds!” A voice could be heard coming from the bed, and it wasn’t Jin’s.

Now in a sit up position on the bed, you stared at the men surrounding you with a calm look. In doing so, it halted their previous conversation and at the same time, resolved it. Jungkook plopped into the desk chair next to him, head laying against the back of the chair in relief. Thank the fucking lord, he thought inwardly.

The next words that came out of your mouth had them all flabbergasted, especially the one closest to you, staring at you as if you were some alien.

“Jin, just kiss me for fuck’s sake so we can get this over with. Cause if it’s not you, I desperately need to figure out who it is. And you two,” you pointed aggressively at Namjoon and Taehyung, “are next if it isn’t him.” You said so matter of fact that all three men nearly fell over in sheer denial and nerves for potentially getting to kiss you.

It was Jungkook who snorted in laughter at their faces from his sitting position on the wheelie chair. Karma was a bitch.

“If you don’t want to kiss her first, I wouldn’t mind.” Taehyung raised his hand, cheekily volunteering on first dibs. Jin’s eye twitched in a random surge of anger that came over him at the mere idea of you two kissing. Fuck that.

“I’ll do it.” He said more confidently than he felt.

Namjoon stood back up straight from his kneeling position, backing away from the two figures who were about to share their first kiss, on his bed, no less. He cringed at the situation, but knew there was no other choice.

“Let’s uh,” Namjoon awkwardly cleared his throat. “Let’s give them a bit of privacy and turn around, yeah?” He looked at each member next to him who nodded in agreement. Even Jungkook wheeled around in his sitting position on the chair to give you both the needed time to yourselves.

Nodding your head in determination, eyes glancing down at the counter on your wrist, seeing the numbers plummet drastically, made your body vibrate in anticipation of what’s to come. It was now or never.

Shifting positions on the bed, Jin turned his body to now face you properly, before leaning forward on his now free hands that laid flat on the bed on either side of your closed legs supporting his weight. You leaned in, in kind, using your own hands as leverage to propel your body forward in your sitting position.

“Are you sure?” He quietly whispered, a millisecond away from touching your lips with his, searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation or doubt.

“Positive.” You whispered back confidently. Looking directly into his eyes.

Being all he needed to hear to continue, he proceeded to kiss you, eyes closing. Yours soon doing the same. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t sloppy. It didn’t even feel like it was a first kiss, if you’re being honest. Lips molding in a way that felt like you’ve done it together countless times in the past. And maybe you did in your past lives. Who knew?

A burst of air emitted from your bodies in a tidal wave towards the unsuspecting victims that still had their backs turned. Said victims stumbling forward on their feet, Jungkook’s chair even wheeling forward on its own from the sheer force of impact it held before coming to an abrupt stop as the gust died down.

All of them slowly looking back toward you both at the same time, had them all witness a once bright glow that formed around the outline of your figures, now fade into nothing as you both pulled apart from each other.

Eyes opening at the same time, you stared at each other with the same knowing grin. Both of you not even bothering to look at your now bare wrists, knowing it no longer carries the same weight it once did prior to your shared kiss. Though yours held more than excitement for finding your soulmate in time. It also held a secret you were about to share not only with him, but with the six males that also resided in the room you were in.

And thus you proceeded to enlighten OT7 with the mission you received, giving Jin another kiss once telling him that you’ll both be going to work at the same company at the end of the year when you graduated. All six boys erupting with cheers, high fives, and fist bumps for your soulmate’s bright future.

And then you donned a cheeky, albeit slightly bashful grin and look on your face as you recounted the ways you met a few of the members. Even telling Namjoon how you baited him with ‘The Great Gatsby’ on purpose, making him chuckle at his own obliviousness to the situation, giving you a fist bump of your own as kudos for your brilliant plan.

Then you told your reasoning behind your outfit, shamefully admitting you only wore it to gain the attention of Taehyung. Which had said male grinning in utter delight, him clapping theatrically for your outfit, giving you two thumbs up. And causing Jin to scowl at him from his position underneath you. You now choosing to sit on his lap while his arms wrapped around your torso possessively. Hand flying up in the air to give Taehyung the middle finger.

Angling your body to Jungkook you once again thanked him for being such a gentleman and lending you his beloved jacket in your time of need. You going to take said jacket off to give back to him, before he vehemently denied you, telling you that your shirt is probably still see through and you should keep it on until you find something else to wear. Jin smiled warmly in response to Jungkook and his actions towards you, before letting go of your torso to shrug his maroon sweater he was wearing off, holding it up in front of you in a silent way of telling you to wear it instead.

You inwardly cringed at your display of a lovesick schoolgirl when he handed you his sweater, blushing profusely at the sentiment. Unzipping Jungkook’s jacket, you shrugged it off carefully, and extended your hand out to Jungkook who took it with a fondness only he would have for the jacket, before grinning softly at you in thanks.

Tugging the sweater on you that was two sizes too big for you, you could’ve worn it as a dress. The sleeves dangling off your arms, you clutched the ends with your fingers and brought them up to your nose, shamelessly inhaling the scent that was wholly Jin. He stared at you with a look of love that didn’t go unnoticed to anyone but you. Before he thought back to something you said during your long rant of your mission that had his eyes narrowing at you playfully.

“Wait. So you’re telling me that you have a better relationship with the Dean than me?!” He asked flabbergasted, causing you to scowl at the insinuation that you shouldn’t be the one with the better relationship.

“Excuse me?! And you should?” You narrowed your eyes back at him, challenging him.

The six males in the room looked at each other with the same ‘let’s get out of here’ face, and quietly walked out of the room the same way they came in, in single file. Jungkook being the last one out, he carefully shut the door behind him cutting off your voices successfully and followed his fellow hyung’s down the hallway and back to the party that was still raging on.

Smoothing out the jacket he now donned again, he stopped midway down the stairs. All of a sudden a certain song came blaring through the speakers, one he knew all too well. Taehyung whined in frustration, the others snickering in amusement as Jungkook loudly belted out the lyrics to his musical crush and muse, Ariana Grande.

“All that you got, skin to skin, oh my God. Don't you stop, boy–“

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hoseokslefteyebrow · 2 years

Text

Thorned Roses Tend To Prick || P. JM

Pairing: Park Jimin X Reader

Summary:

Jimin sighs, looking at her face.

" I'm sorry, I don't think you get what I'm saying. You belong to me. Both physically and emotionally. Besides, you're nothing without me. " Jimin's face hardens, looking into her eyes.

She looks right back, appearing to not be terrified.

" I'm pretty sure it's the other way around. You are nothing without me. " She says, eyes sharp, obviously not backing down from his own.

Genre: uhh, yandere

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warning: aight sO First off, this fic is 14+, graphic murder but not too graphic, they're nearly having sex, no actual smut tho bc ew

Masterlist

[ A/N: Ps, I recommend listening to 'Slide' or 'Out of the roof' while reading this. Both songs are by Chase Atlantic. ]

Jimin sighs, looking at her face.

" I'm sorry, I don't think you get what I'm saying. You belong to me. Both physically and emotionally. Besides, you're nothing without me. " Jimin's face hardens, looking into her eyes.

She looks right back, appearing to not be terrified.

" I'm pretty sure it's the other way around. You are nothing without me. " She says, eyes sharp, obviously not backing down from his own.

Jimin might not be the tallest one around, but he's still a few inches taller than her, even though she's wearing heels.

Jimin chuckles darkly, licking his lips before suddenly stepping closer, gun suddenly pressed right to her throat.

"Want to guess again, darling? " He teases, metal of the gun cold against her skin.

" Do it. Shoot me. You'll either eventually end up shooting yourself with how smitten you are for me or you'll cry over my corpse long enough for someone else to shoot you. " She glares, stepping closer to him, seemingly unbothered with how the gun is pressing only further into her skin.

He smirks, laughing darkly before placing the gun back in it's holster. He roughly pulls her closer by her hair, their lips now touching even though he's smirking.

" Fuck you're hot. " He rasps before slamming his lips against hers.

Like almost all of their kisses, this kiss is once again a fight for dominance. There's a lot of teeth and biting each other's lips involved, and by the time the two calm down to catch their breath, they're sharing each other's lipstick.

" This shade of pink looks good on you. " Jimin smirks, looking at her mouth, running his thumb over her bottom lip before following the trail of lipstick down to her cheek.

" Maybe I need a little more of it? " She smiles, pulling his face closer to slam their lips right back together.

However, the moment their lips touch-

" Sorry Y/N, I'm going to need to steal Jimin for a moment, hope you don't mind. "

She recognizes the handsome man as Kim Taehyung, one of Bangtan's boys.

She huffs in displeasure.

" Again? Isn't this the fourth time this month? " She complains.

" Business calls my love. " Jimin says, loosening her grip on his neck.

He wasn't necessarily afraid someone in this club would dare to see her. Most, if not everyone around knew what she's capable of.

" Is business more important than me? " She asks cheekily.

Taehyung blinks, not knowing if she's teasing or not. He's heard stories of this woman, and how nasty she can be.

Meanwhile Jimin just grins, pulling her close once more, making Taehyung look away with a blush.

Yes, Taehyung is part of a gang. No, Taehyung is not a virgin. And yes, these two fluster him because they're obviously not shy.

" 'Course not, love-"

" Sorry to disturb, but she can come along if that's the problem. " Taehyung says meekly.

Jimin sighs, looking at the male. Jimin is obviously displeased by Taehyung disrupting them once more. However, much to Taehyung's relief, Jimin moves away from Y/N, taking her hands off him only to hold her hand.

" Well than, let's go if it's so important, " Jimin says.

It doesn't take them all too long before Jimin is seated at Bangtan's table. Y/N stood behind him with a hand on his chair. (He'd offered his seat up for her originally, but she mentioned she doesn't mind.)

RM's eyes only make their way over Y/N's form once, but doesn't mind her presence otherwise.

Jimin raises a brow impatiently, wanting to get this over and done with already.

RM, although he reads Jimin's behavior with ease, takes his sweet times explaining his idea. It's simple to understand, but with Jimin's and Y/N's buzzed minds, it takes 3 times to explain.

To put it simple and short, RM is asking Jimin to join the gang that is Bangtan. Bangtan is one of the most powerful gangs in the underworld, not as big as Exo yet twice as powerful. Most of the members are unknown.

Jimin isn't part of any gang. He's an assassin; He kills people without second thought for money. He isn't religious. He doesn't care who they are or what they have done. He isn't in a blood depth with anyone. He simply comes and gets the job done.

Hence why RM wants him. What empire wouldn't want an assassin who's as smooth as that? Besides, Jimin is quite literally insane. He isn't holy, nor does he have respect for life. He already went hunting by himself when he was younger, so when he had to choose a career, why not do what he already was good at?

Y/N is from RM's point of view a very shady person, even though the entire underworld is shady, Y/N seemingly has no background. No one knows what she has done, or how violent she can get. The only thing they know of her is that she's definitely got blood on her hands.

" I don't do gangs RM, you should know. I go with the highest bidder, and no one stays on top forever. " Jimin smiles easily, taking hold of Y/N's lap only to place her onto his lap.

She curls up into him easily. Her eyes seemingly holding a challenge as she looks right into RM's eyes.

Everyone in the room is slightly uncomfortable by her presence. Yes, they're used to prostitutes and women who lead gangs with self respect but just not her.

" See it this way. Both of you'll be untouchable-"

" Are you calling me weak? " She cuts RM off, cocking her head, faking a look of innocence.

" Look Angel,.. " A gang member Jimin nor Y/N are familiar with suddenly speaks up from behind RM.

Jimin doesn't like his tone, nor with how he's calling his woman Angel. However, Jimin likes to think of himself as a patient man. He'll let this play out for a bit.

Y/N herself raises a brow with a scoff on her face.

The unknown gang member doesn't seen to be able to take a hint, and so continues on.

" ... You see what it is? The world we involve ourselves in is very, , bloody. You wouldn't survive a day, Angel face. " He says, speaking as if he's talking to a common prostitute.

" Angel face? You think my woman is pretty? " Jimin suddenly asks.

The tension grows a lot thicker, yet RM does nothing to attempt to save his gangmember. Who orders has to pay the bill.

" Well, yes. Of course. -"

" Ah, I see, you want her? " Jimin smiles.

Taehyung's eyes widen as he suddenly catches the shift in Jimin's eyes. The lovesick look replaced by utter lust. Taehyung knows the man well enough that this man's lust wasn't for sex, he wanted to see blood.

" Well, I wouldn't say that but-" The gangmembers smiles stupidly, his ears tipping red.

" No buts! Congratulations, she's all yours. " Jimin smiles.

He patts her butt twice, and she gets up easily. Unwrapping her arms from around his neck like a snake.

Now all of Bangtan is surprised, was the lovesick psycho really giving away the thorned rose he loves so much? Surely not right?

She smirks as she straddles the new guy's thighs, settling down on top of him easily.

Jimin's eyes darken as he looks at the two of them, looking at the way she runs her arms over the man's chest before growing bold and thursting her hips into his.

The man chokes out a sound as she does so, not having expected ger to do that. He shivers as he catches Jimin's dark eyes onto his form.

" H-hey look- I didn't mean any trouble-"

" Trouble? " Jimin suddenly smiles.

" You're not in trouble. You wanted her and now you have her. " He continues on.

" I-"

" You should know though, her favorite colour is red. " Jimin says before taking out his gun.

Y/N holds the man still to his chair with sick smile.

Taehyung flinches when a single shot is fired.

The man sags in Y/N's hold as his body drops dead, and she easily steps off the man, tugging him down to let his body fall to the ground.

Jimin steps towards her, softly wiling off the blood that's splattered onto her face. Her clothes look a lot worse.

" Red suits you too. " He smiles as he swipes his thumb over her mouth.

" Want a taste? " She grins, eyes heavy lidded as she closes in on him.

RM clears his throat as they start making out, making Jimin groan into Y/N's mouth. He presses his lips harder onto hers as he pulls her closer for a second, squeezing her ass for a moment before letting go.

" We'll think of your offer. " Jimin smiles forcedly, before pulling Y/N along with him as they leave the room.

And as always, they leave chaos in behind. And a dead body.

[ A/N: Congrats, u found the darkest bit of my mind (kidding there's worse shit in there oops) Anyway what did y'all think of this? I like the switch from The Baby Project to whatever this is. ]

#bts #bts x reader #idkeitherman #yandere bts #park jimin x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Note

journey + the jk bday journey snippet was so gooddd!! makes me wonder what they did for namjoon's bday hmmmmmmm....

(ps. going through a tough time rn and ur work helps makes life a lil less sad 🥺)

(pss. journey hobi ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, )

(I hope you had fun after reading such ridiculousness XD enjoy this silly drabble about Namjoon's birthday lol keep your head up <3)

warnings: sexually suggestive language, horny crackhead energy pairing(s): ot7 x reader 'journey' au aka fuckbuddies with non-idol!BTS

“If we get a big enough cake, I can pop out of it–”

“The logistics of your idea,” Min Yoongi interrupted you, poking the side of your head. “Are nuts, not to mention expensive.”

“Hah, you really are No-Fun Man, Yoongi,” you shot back, prodding him and his pastel pink head. He simply sat there and took it with a rather annoyed frown.

“We could surprise him again like we surprised Jungkook,” Jung Hoseok interrupted brightly, his cheerful tone nearly as vibrant as his platinum white-blond hair.

You waved a hand, shaking your head. “It’s too obvious, especially since that was less than two weeks ago. I can’t be naked every single time you guys have a birthday.” Well, you would be…. Eventually. “At least not at the start, I mean…”

Park Jimin popped his black-haired head up from behind the sofa, giving you a warm back hug and bouncing your tits through your shirt. “Why not? Sounds fun.”

“Well, if you think about it, when Seokjin's and Taehyung’s birthdays roll around, I’m gonna freeze to death. Frostbitten titties and ass are not on my sex bingo card, sorry Jimin.”

Jimin pouted, squeezing your breasts through your bra.

Kim Taehyung, who currently was sitting beside you with his hand rubbing his chin, hummed thoughtfully, fingers skimming his lips. “We should do something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, because he’s always taking good care of us,” he pondered in his deep baritone voice, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

“Somebody has to take care of you guys.”

You all stared at Kim Seokjin and his scoff.

“Hyung, you should be taking care of us. You’re the oldest.”

“I do! You guys are crazy! You’re going to make me wrinkle prematurely at this rate! Do you see this moneymaker? I must remain pristine to bring continued joy to this world!”

“You’re the craziest one, Seokjin!” you cackled as he chucked a pillow at you. It was swiftly punched back by the man between your legs.

Sitting between your legs.

Not that you wouldn’t rather him be doing something else between your legs–

“What if we make Namjoon-hyung a meal?” Jeon Jungkook suggested, leaning his shoulder and arm on your thigh. You looked down at him and his bright brown eyes were gazing back up at you, black hair grazing his silver eyebrow piercing and a small smile on his pink lips. You almost wanted to kiss him right then. Ugh, he had such lovely, kissable lips.

Would be very distressing if Jungkook got a lip piercing.

“A meal?” you echoed airily, lost in his beautiful eyes.

“Hyung and I are the only ones who can cook,” Yoongi snorted, shaking his head. “That’s just making us do it on our own.”

You frowned at his words, breaking your gaze with Jungkook, getting back to the conversation. “That’s not true. I can cook.”

All six turned to look at you.

“What? Just because I can suck dick like a boss and take it in the ass with minimal warmup doesn’t mean I can’t cook! I can make all kinds of stuff!”

Taehyung raised a hand, startled. “Hold on. What?”

“She can take it in the ass real well,” Hoseok agreed, nodding.

“Ah, yeah, it’s pretty impressive,” Yoongi agreed, high-fiving him.

“Hyung?!”

“Did I hear that correctly, what the fu–?”

You went on to list the all the dishes you were proud of, too busy thinking to across the sudden commotion around you. “And I can stir-fry vegetables and perfect medium-rare steak and I can make jajangmyeon from scratch and it’s damn good, at least Seokjin said so last time I made it–”

“You made hyung a meal?” Jimin shrieked. “What about us?!”

“But he always eats food so deliciously–”

mmm, so, yeah, bickering while making a grand meal for Kim Namjoon that probably ultimately ended with the maknae line putting up all the colorful decorations and the hyung line doing most of the culinary labor and you getting fondled while cooking at the stove...

Namjoon probably came back to a wonderful homemade dinner, yummy cake, and horny chaos, typical, smh

(yeah, 'journey' Hobi *wiggles eyebrows* XD)

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

#bts fluff #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts x you

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un2-verse · 3 years

Text

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

220 notes · View notes

littlemessyjessi · 3 months

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Kpop content coming soon! I am working away at these requests! Keep them coming for BTS x plus size reader!

Also today those worried about the Thorin and Fawn story, please don't. I'm still working on it. It's just that I watched all the movies and bawled over Thorin, Fili and Kili. I'm sensitive, lol.

But please keep the kpop requests coming!

Love , K

Have a kookie 💙

#bts #bts x plus size reader #plus size reader #ps reader #kpop #plus size #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim seokjin #kim namjoon

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raplinesmoon · 3 years

Text

Autumn Leaves (JHS x F! Reader) - Part 2.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female Reader

Genres: ANGST, some minor moments of fluff, romance

AUs: historical/period!AU, aristocrat!AU (OC comes from a rich family)

Word count: 6.2k for this final part

Tags/trigger warnings: the reader is sick with tuberculosis (no graphic details of sickness, just coughing and wheezing), mentions of injections, mentions of blood, physical fight scenes (running away, punching, pushing, pulling, etc)., mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, mentions of stealing and crime, betrayal, deceit, minor character deaths, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (pls don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable, your well-being is valued and important).

Ratings: R

Summary: An unfortunate meeting leads young archaeologist Jin Han-Jae to fall in love with the daughter of a wealthy noble. Unbeknownst to her, he harbours a secret that could drive the both of them apart.

A/N: Ugh, why do I write things that make me cry? This piece is based on the Bollywood film Lootera, which is one of my favourite movies ever. I loved this movie so much, and I wanted to see Hoseok in this role so bad, that I made a whole mood board for it before I ever even considered sitting down to write this story. I hope you enjoy the ending, I’m sorry it’s so sad, but I also wanted to convey hope amongst the sadness. PS. Thank you to Val @kookdiaries for the beautiful banner!! PSPSPS: In this fic, Hoseok goes by an alter ego known as Jin Han-Jae (it’ll make sense when you read). The characters who don’t know he’s Hoseok refer to him as Han-Jae only when addressing him and thinking of him → hopefully that clears up any confusion! Lots of love, Isi 💜

Disclaimer: this is highly unedited, I’m so sorry but I just sort of sat down and wrote the whole thing at once. I’ll maybe go back and edit sometime soon though!

Crossposted to AO3 here.

One year later

The musicality of the birds chirping outside your window grates on your nerves as you sit down at your desk, pen in hand. The pollen from the air is irritating your already fragile lungs, but you suppress the urge to cough in fear of another attack. Rustling amongst the crumpled up papers that surround you, a deep groan escapes your throat. Rubbing at your temples, you look out the window to see that the once beautiful blue skies have darkened considerably, branches whipping in the wind.

“Madam ___? Dinner is ready,” your maid Joo-hyun implores you to venture out of your room and join her in the kitchen. Her faint footsteps echo behind you as she reaches down to pick up the mass of paper that litters the floor.

“Do you need anything else before I head home for the night, Madam ___?” she inquires.

“No Joo-hyun, thank you. You may go home,” you address her, but your eyes stare straight ahead, peering out into the distance. You hear the door click behind you, but pay it no mind as your eyes focus on the storm brewing in the background. Letting out another sigh, your finger trail over the switch of your lamp, flicking it once and bathing the room in darkness. You flick it again.

On. Flick. Off. Flick. On. Off. On-off, on-off, on-off.

A year later, and you muse that moving to your mountain estate has done nothing for your peace of mind. While the air may be fresh and the winds calm, the sound of them whistling through the trees serves to remind you of the fact that you are completely and utterly alone.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Emerging from the forest after your daily walk around the estate, you notice a figure waiting for you at the end of the path.

“My name is Inspector Kim Taehyung,” he reaches out a hand for you to shake, flashing his badge. “May I come inside, ma’am?”

His black shiny boots soon take up residence in the drawing-room while Joo-hyun prepares a cup of tea for you both. You’re embarrassed to have him sit there, knowing it’s gathering dust from your disuse and disregard for the state of the place.

“Madam ___,” Taehyung begins, “You know very well why I’m here. You knew Han-Jae better than anyone. The more information we get from you, the closer we are to catching them. And if we don’t catch them, they’ll rob again. And again. And more innocent victims like your father will die at their hands.”

“My father didn’t die because he got robbed,” a look of annoyance crosses your face at his insinuation. “He died because he was heartbroken. He trusted Han-Jae with his whole life.”

“I did too,” you whisper, looking down at the floor.

Taehyung lays an arm on your shoulder. “Your father would want Han-Jae to pay, right? For what he did to the family.”

“I don’t want revenge against Han-Jae, Inspector Kim,” you remark, eyes becoming listless and glazed over from having this conversation one too many times. “I just want to forget him.”

Taehyung stands to take his leave, shaking the dust from his coat and rattling the doorknob.

“If you ever feel like talking, Madam ___, or you ever need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“What are you writing?” Han-jae’s voice echoes in your head, memories flooding your senses from the night you confessed your love. “Is it a story?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you mumble, bent over his writing desk.

“What story is it?” He asks, eyes melting as he takes in your tired figure.

“Just a story,” you try to quell his suspicions, not wanting him to know what lies in your heart.

“Is there a boy in the story?”

“Yes.”

“And a girl?”

“Yup.”

“Do they love each other?” Han-Jae’s voice cracks as he asks the question, his lies spreading venom all over his tongue as his heart sinks in his chest.

“No,” your response is resolute, and his breath hitches.

“Are they about to fall in love?” he probes, inching himself closer to you.

You roll your eyes at his antics. “I don’t know.”

Wrapping a hand around your waist, he kneels beside your sitting figure. “The boy wants to know what the girl is thinking, but she’s not answering him. Is she angry?”

“Yes,” you croak, thinking of how he may have to leave one day.

“Because he has to go?” he asks, his thoughts melding with your own.

“No, because he’s asking too many questions,” you playfully flick his shoulder, not wanting to cause him worry.

His arm reaches for your, lifting you up from the chair and wrapping around you as you both tumble onto the bed, face-to-face and bodies intertwined.

“Has the boy told the girl that she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen? And has the girl told the boy she loves him more than anything in the world?”

“Not yet,” you whisper, eyes flickering towards his lips as you both lean in.

“When will they tell each other? When?” Han-Jae breathes the last word before his lips close over yours.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Rage overcomes you as you’re blinded by the memory. You throw your pen on the floor, followed by a book, followed by a glass photo frame that shatters as you stomp towards the living room, eyes focused on the telephone that sits in the corner.

Hastily dialing the number for the local police station, you ask to be put through to Inspector Kim Taehyung.

“Inspector Kim speaking,” his deep voice thunders over the phone.

“Han-Jae told me once when we were talking that-, that one day, he’d like to run away and live in the mountains outside of Busan. Maybe one day, his target will be here, in this very town, or even somewhere nearby.”

“Thank you,” Taehyung answers, voice filled with gratitude. He knows how tough the decision must have been for you.

Choosing not to respond, you cut the line dead. Tip-toeing back to your room, guilt washes over you when you peer at the photo that’s slipped out of the broken frame, your father’s face smiling back at you.

Not even days later, the sign goes up outside your front gate, as you look on through the window, under the shadow of the large tree that looms in your backyard.

“Guesthouse for rent.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Famous artifacts to be moved to a museum outside Busan,” the headline reads. Hoseok stares at it, and then stares again at the photo he’d taken out of his breast pocket. It’s the one of you two from that day you’d begged him to try out the new camera together. He stares at the way the two of you sit on opposite sides of the sofa, keeping a respectable distance from one another even though he knows now the distance between you two is anything but.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Lungs wheezing as coughs wrack your frame, you remark at how even the fresh air can no longer keep your sickness at bay. The palm of your hand glistens with fresh, ruby-red blood.

Tuberculosis, the doctor had said. He’d suggested moving somewhere else, somewhere warmer, in the hopes of living a longer and healthier life. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d given up on living long ago.

With the leaves falling around you, you’re reminded of your father’s story - the one he’d told long ago, about the king who stored his life in a parrot. Glancing at the tree above, you close your eyes and will your spirit to imbue itself within the colorful leaves, their falling a metaphor for your dwindling life force.

Joo-hyun shakes you out of your reverie, a grim look on her face.

“There’s two men at the gate. For the guesthouse. What should I do?”

“Show it to them,” you tell her, not daring to look over your shoulder at the visitors. You know he’s arrived.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hoseok and Jimin follow the maid down the slope towards the guesthouse. Her name was Joo-hyun, or something like that. Hoseok can’t be bothered to remember. He’s much more interested in the mysterious inhabitant of the main house on the property.

“Who lives up there?” Hoseok asks, craning his neck towards the large house.

“The lady of the house,” Joo-hyun replies stiffly. “She hasn’t been well these days, she mostly keeps to herself.”

…

It’s a done deal, Hoseok thinks. This is the perfect place for them to stay. Giving the main house a last look before he and Jimin return to the hotel, he sees a shadow through the window. Could it be?

No, it couldn’t, he thinks to himself. He’d lost the right to be in your life a long time ago.

Peering at him through the windowpanes, your breathing becomes shallow as you fumble for the ringing phone.

“Inspector Kim speaking. Madam ___, we’ve arrested the gang’s leader, Han-jae’s uncle. He confessed to us that Han-jae and Jimin are in the town as we speak. I’ve gotten a call from the local museum curator that he met with them today, and they were masquerading as docents for the National Museum. We’ve blocked off all the potential places they could stay in the town, meaning that they’ll find their way to you somehow. I hope you’re ready.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“That’s funny, I thought Uncle would at least answer the phone,” Jimin remarks as he and Hoseok make their way from the phone booth through the winding town streets.

“It’s not like him,” Hoseok quips, grating his teeth together. This whole town put him on edge. It felt wildly unsafe here. He notices that someone has begun to walk behind them.

“Listen,” he says to Jimin. “Pass me a cigarette, will you?”

Stopping, he glances at the man behind them. “We’re being followed. You go left, I’ll go right. I’ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

“Alright,” Jimin responds. The two of them trust each other with their lives, even now when they’re on the line.

Breaking out into a run, the two of them split along the path, disappearing from sight as the policemen hidden in the shadows make themselves known and follow swiftly.

Hoseok’s lungs threaten to burst out of his chest, sprinting as fast as his legs can take him. Out of nowhere, he’s tackled to the ground by a man in uniform, crumpling as the man snakes a hand around his neck. Giving a swift kick to the man’s chest, he topples over and Hoseok makes his escape, stumbling as he gasps for air.

Hoseok swoops down stairwells and scampers down slopes, twisting and turning, his agile legs no match for the older men that chase after. That is, until he hears the gunshots. Slipping into an abandoned house, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally free of the pursuit.

Until he hears breathing coming from outside. His eyes dart to the window, seeing the imposing figure of a tall man shuffle past, the “Inspector Kim” of his badge glinting along with the pistol he carries in his hands. Hoseok swallows as the door to the house creaks open, and he springs into action.

Taehyung is tackled before he even knows it, gun slipping from his grasp, as the two men exchange blows back and forth. Taehyung is strong, Hoseok knows, but he lacks speed and agility. Years of being a thief have taught Hoseok to slip out from anyone’s grasp. He lands a blow to Taehyung’s stomach, incapacitating him as the Inspector is knocked over, heaving as he watches Hoseok take his pistol and escape.

Taehyung’s men come from behind him, shooting at the intruder, but missing until he slips from their sight.

….

Groaning, Hoseok blinks up at the light escaping from the one window illuminating the abandoned basement he now seeks refuge in. He knows that he’s been hurt somehow, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins is keeping his mind from fixating on the pain. Climbing up on his arms and slipping his head out the window, the coast is now clear.

Hoseok makes his way down the alleyway, completely devoid of another human soul as the fog closes in on him. Peeking around the corner, he lets out a silent groan as he catches eyes with one of the police’s men, staring straight back towards him with a rifle aimed at his head.

Standing his ground, Hoseok engages the man in a stare off, his own pistol pointed straight for the heart. Suddenly, the man backs away, claiming defeat. Hoseok lets his arm down for a split second, but sees the rifle glint out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn’t even hesitate before the man is on the ground, bleeding out. Out of the corner of his eye, Hoseok spots another intruder making his way through the fog. Yet another shot rings out and Hoseok finds himself alone, surrounded by bodies on either side.

The mid-afternoon sunlight begins to peek through the fog, and Hoseok gets a good look at the other intruder. His face blanches. Jimin. He sees the younger lying in a pool of blood on the ground, clutching his chest before coming to a still.

Frantic, Hoseok runs towards his friend, tears spilling out of his eyes, stopping in front of his lifeless body. Jimin’s eyes are open, turned towards the sky, the sunlight now spilling into the alley and illuminating his golden hair.

A shot rings out in the distance, and Hoseok sees the police approaching from above. Hurt, and unable to grieve, he wipes the last of his tears and does what he does best. He leaves.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Choking back sobs as he ducks into another corner, Hoseok untucks his shirt, now stained with red, as the tell-tale sign of a bullet mark makes itself known in his chest. Struggling to breathe, he closes his eyes and begins to hyperventilate. Soon, his senses are awoken by the light touch of something cold against his face. Snowflakes.

Reaching into his chest, he bites back a scream as his fingers close in on the bullet and yank it out. More tears spill out, pain mixed with relief.

He knows come morning, the police will have posters of him everywhere, calling him what he is: a thief and a murderer. And yet, he’s not ready to be turned in, to die. So he’ll keep running, even if nowhere here is safe for him now.

Nowhere here is safe for him now. The streets of the town flash in his mind, and then, one place outside of it.

The snowflakes cling to his hair as he limps towards the guesthouse with the mysterious owner.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hands shaking, you reach for the medicine stocked in your drawer as another coughing fit hits you. The air is cold and a draft has found its way into the house with the onset of the snowstorm.

You’re distracted by the faint glow of a lantern outside your door. The glow makes it's way closer and closer, almost as if someone is making their way down the path towards you. Coughing, you brace your arms around yourself and prepare for your impending doom as the door is rammed open.

A wild Han-Jae appears before you, hair disheveled and eyes red with anger and grief. Making his way towards you, he grabs you in his arms, caging you in as you desperately try to break free from his grasp.

“It was you, wasn’t it? I knew it had to be you, ___. My eyes weren’t deceiving me. You told them, didn’t you? You told the police where I was,” he roars, shaking you back and forth.

Unable to fight him any longer, you clutch at your throat, eyes fluttering as everything around you fades to black.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Waking with a start, you gasp and frantically look around your room, searching for any signs that your nightmare had not come true last night. Wrapping your shawl around yourself, you gingerly make your way out of bed, gently stepping towards the kitchen to heat up the kettle.

Your suspicions are proven correct when you spot the lone figure of Han-Jae bent over the countertop, head sunken low as if in mourning. Taking him, you marvel at how so much has changed, but his beauty remains the same. His hair may be a bit longer, and his figure a bit more lean, but there’s no mistaking the sharp cut of his jaw and the curve of his lips. You feel your breath catch in your throat at the sight of him after so long.

“My friend died because of you,” he whispers, so low that you almost can’t hear him over the wind blowing outside. “He died because of you. You think I’d let you go that easily?”

“I didn’t know you had a shred of emotion left in you,” you sneer.

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, ____. I need a place to hide,” Han-Jae rolls up his sleeves, stepping around you and making his way to the cupboards.

“You won’t find it here,” you decree defiantly. “Now please leave or I’ll call the police.

He looks towards you, the ghost of a heart-shaped smile making its way onto his lips.

“You won’t call them.”

Face scrunched up in anger, you brush past him as your legs charge towards the telephone in the other room. His hand stops yours before you can grab it, painfully twisting your arm behind your head as you struggle against him. The door clicks, and the two of you look towards the threshold to see Joo-hyun standing there, hands held up to her ears.

“Close the door,” Han-Jae commands, turning his head towards Joo-Hyun. “Fucking close it!”

Joo-Hyun jumps, arms trembling as she locks the bolt into place. Han-jae reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pistol, pointing it at Joo-hyun threateningly.

“What have you heard from outside? What are they saying?” he seethes. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”

“Your photos are up everywhere,” Joo-Hyun gulps. “You’re accused of killing a police constable.”

She looks towards you before continuing: “They also say you killed your own friend. There are shoot-on-sight orders for you.”

“You killed Jimin?” you sob, turning away. You’re unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“Wh-who are you?” Joo-hyun stutters, her voice taking a protective tone once she recognizes you seem familiar with each other.

“Who isn’t he?” you scream. “Mr. Jin Han-jae, actor extraordinaire! Man of a thousand faces, all of them used to lie and cheat and trick the hearts of the innocent!”

Hoseok barges towards you, jaw clenched as he grabs your arm.

“I didn’t kill Jimin on purpose, or that police constable. I fired back out of self-defense!”

“I don’t believe you!” you sob. “How can I believe you?”

“It’s the truth!” he bellows.

“The truth!” you screech back. “If only you had told the truth back then, huh? Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this mess?”

“I couldn’t abandon Jimin and my uncle! They were like family to me, do you even understand that? How could I have just betrayed them and left?”

Breathing heavily, your next words are a whisper.

“But you could betray me, right? You could betray my trust, betray my love?”

Hoseok lets out a deep sigh, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“You’ll never understand,” he says, turning on his heel. “ You haven’t seen the world, you’ve lived in the lap of luxury your whole life.”

He’s met with Joo-hyun holding a pistol to his chest. Her hands shake, flinching as he snatches it from her hands and pulls back on the trigger, demonstrating that’s it’s empty, nothing but a threatening decoy.

Making his way past her, he slams the door shut with a close, his groan audible from outside as you see him clutch his chest.

“Sh-should I calll the police?” Joo-hyun asks, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You don’t respond to her, staring off into space against her desperate pleas asking why you’re so interested in saving him.

The door opens, Han-jae dragging the cold in with him as he fumbles with the telephone, dialing a number.

“H-hello? RM? It’s me, J-Hope. I’ll be on my way tomorrow morning.”

He hangs up, looking towards you again. “I’ll have to spend the night here. If you decide at any point between now and tomorrow you want to call the police, I won’t stop you.”

Glancing over your writing desk, his eyes stop on a photo frame with the glass inside missing.

“Your father, is he-”

“He’s dead.”

“How?”

“You killed him. Just like you killed Jimin. It wasn’t your fault. But they’re dead all the same.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hoseok sits on the porch, watching snow fall as your sobs echo from the house behind him.

Joo-hyun makes her way outside, bidding him good-bye.

“I’m going home. For Madam ___’s sake, I won’t tell the police anything.”

…

I came here to run away from my past,

To forget everything,

Why did you come back to my life?

Why did I let you back in?

Why don’t I just kill you?

It must give you so much joy to see me like this,

You see that tree?

I stare at it, day and night,

As if it’s a parrot with my life inside it.

I stare at its leaves that fall.

The day that the last leaf falls,

Is the day I will breathe my last.

This is what you have brought me to.

I hope you’re ashamed of living like this.

But I know you don’t care at all.

All you do is hide.

The pen scratches along the paper as you force yourself to write word upon word, falling asleep at the desk as the wick of your candle burns through the night.

Hoseok’s fingers brush over the parchment, taking in every word as he gazes fondly at your sleeping figure. The words he had to say to you would never make it past his lips, let alone onto the page. He couldn’t hurt you any more than he already had.

Shrugging his jacket on, he slings his pack over his shoulders and retreats from the room, stepping out once again into the cold unknown. Looking up at the tree you wrote about, he sees it nearly stripped bare, the last few colorful leaves hanging from the branches.

Clutching his side, he makes his way down the snowy path as the house becomes smaller and smaller in the distance. He can see Namjoon’s figure waiting at the end of the road, and he lets out a deep breath, ready to leave this all behind.

As he takes in Namjoon’s waving arms, his heart freezes in his chest as he thinks of you. Dying, and all alone in that house. All because of him. Tears sting his eyes, throat tightening as he sobs at how lucky he was to find you again, and how easily he was about to let you go one more time.

Turning away, he makes his way back down the path, Namjoon’s yells echoing in the distance, wondering what could have caused the man to change his mind.

Stirring from your sleep, you awaken to find Han-jae stomping his boots free of snow at the front door. You shoot him a questioning glance.

“It’s still not safe outside,” he explains, a solemn look on his face.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Carrying the steaming mug in his hands, Hoseok sets it beside you, seeing you staring out the window at the tree again.

“I made tea,” he says softly, turning to head back towards the kitchen.

The sound of the mug flying and shattering into a thousand pieces stops him in his tracks.

“I don’t want your tea,” you snarl.

Saying nothing, Hoseok quietly kneels and begins to pick up the shards, taking care not to cut himself.

“What are you even trying to prove?” you beg him.

“Nothing. When I should have stayed, I ran away. I know.” Hoseok responds, his eyes remaining on the floor, too afraid to look up into your own.

“Once wasn’t enough for you, was it? You just had to come back and break my heart a second time,” you cry, tears clouding your vision.

Hoseok’s face stiffens as he shoots upward, meeting your gaze.

“___…” he begins.

“Don’t say my name like that! Like you still care!” the last word ends on a cough, another fit overcoming you.

Hoseok clucks his tongue, fretting over you as he reaches for the medicine you keep in the drawer.

Fury overcomes you at the thought that he’s still here, acting like nothing has changed, that he can worm his way back into your heart so easily. As he reaches for your arm, you pull it away from him, pushing him away with the other and running towards the living room.

His long legs catch up with you in no time, cornering your lashing figure as he attempts to inject the medicine. Your teeth sink down on his shoulder as he lets out a howl, your struggle interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

Hoseok’s pupils dilate as he sees you start towards the phone. He pins you against the wall, rolling up your sleeve and injecting the syringe until your wheezing calms, the air filled with endless rings and the sound of your labored breathing. Disgusted, you push him away, watching as he lands with a thump on his back against the cold hardwood floor. Wincing, he lifts his shirt to see red coloring the bandage he’d put on the first day he got here. He gingerly extends a hand to help you up.

Slapping it away, you storm into the bedroom and collapse onto your bed, body tired from always fighting him and losing.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Sometimes I feel like strangling you, I hate you so much. But I don’t have the strength anymore. I just want to be free, Han-Jae. From you, from myself, from this life.”

Your words echo in Hoseok’s mind, the ax splitting the wood with a loud crack. Huffing, the cold air creating clouds around his face, he looks up at the tree. The one you’d always look at. The last leaf clutching on tightly by a mere stalk, ready to be swept away by the wind at any moment.

An idea strikes him, pack dragging along behind him as he makes his way to the guesthouse. Spilling the contents onto the table there, the familiar worn pages and gold lettering of the “How to Paint” book greet him, a smile lighting up his face as he closes his eyes, reveling in the moment.

The time had come for his masterpiece.

...

You wake in the morning to the sound of heavy breathing, looking to see Han-jae shivering as he huddles up next to the fireplace, hair soaking wet and clothes dampened. Paying him no mind, you make your way to the window, ready to check on your tree. Closing your eyes, you prepare yourself for the last leaf to fall, to tell you that your time is up, that it’s okay to let go. What you see, however, leaves you in shock. The leaf hangs on, drooping slightly, but giving you another day to live. A silent prayer escapes your lips, whispering thank you to whatever power there is above. You weren’t ready to go. Not yet.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The nights begin to blur for Hoseok. What was supposed to be one night had now turned into weeks spent shivering in the cold each night, making his way to the guesthouse and painting as you slumbered away. He’d return chilled to the bone, shivering while he checked in on you with a thermometer and a warm towel. In the daylight, he labored away in the kitchen, preparing every single soup, stew, or dish he knew of, always beckoning for you to join him at the dining table. But you never did.

Hoseok didn’t mind. He knew he had no right to ask anything of you, to force himself back into your life. His heart was at ease knowing you awoke every day to find that the last leaf hadn’t fallen, and he could keep you close to him for a little while longer.

….

The coughs grew louder, harsher, and more frequent. Every day, you felt as though you were knocking on death’s door, ready to pass on. And every day, the sight of the brightly colored leaf stopped you, keeping you tethered to this house. To Han-Jae.

He’d remained steadfast in his attention to you: changing out your sheets, offering you food and tea, checking your temperature. Each night, he’d sit next to you, the two of you listening in silence as the phone continued to ring, Inspector Kim’s calls becoming more and more frequent. Each night, his eyes met yours, sorrow contain within as he’d duck his head in silent defeat, telling you it was okay to pick up, to tell the Inspector the truth. And yet, somehow, you never did.

You never asked him where he’d disappear to at night, and why he’d always come back cold and shivering. The only clue you had was a faint smudge of paint that had littered his cheek one time, causing you to smile later on when you thought of it, happy that he was painting the masterpiece he always said he would.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

One day, the bell to the front gate rings. You look at Han-Jae in fear, frozen as you contemplate what to do. Shaking his head, he tells you to answer it, that he’ll find a way to hide.

The long, lean figure of Inspector Kim clad in a black duster greets you at your doorstep.

“May I come in?” his deep voice rumbles, the question sounding like an accusation. He’d been wondering why you hadn’t responded to his calls, what you had to hide. “I hope everything’s been well, and that you haven’t been too sick.”

He walks towards you, his tall figure leaning over yours, casting a long shadow against the dim glow of the fireplace.

“Have you seen him?” he whispers. “Han-Jae?”

“No,” you reply resoundingly. “I know you said he might come, but I haven’t seen him anywhere. The guesthouse is still empty.”

His eyes sparkle with a dangerous gleam. He doesn’t believe you.

“May I take a look around?”

“Do you have a warrant?” you stop him.

“A warrant? No, but I can get one tomorrow,” he replies sharply.

“Then please come tomorrow,” you declare.

“Why are you trying to protect him?” Taehyung asks through clenched teeth.

He sees your downcast eyes, staring at the floor, and clears his throat.

“Tomorrow, I’ll be here with the warrant. I’ll bring ten of my best men with me, and they’ll be waiting along the path. If he tries to escape, we’ll shoot him on sight.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hoseok lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, coming out from under your bed to find you sitting there, eyes sparkling with tears as you take him in.

The bed dips as he takes a seat next to you, his arm coming up to gently rest on your shoulder.

“Do you know my real name?” he blurts out, your eyes widening with shock.

“My name is Hoseok. Jung Hoseok,” he says with a grin, the weight of his hidden identity finally being lifted off his shoulders as he lets you in.

“Hoseok,” you try the name on your tongue, your smile mirroring his own. “It suits you.”

For a few quiet moments, the air is filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet laughter. Eventually, it subsides and makes way for a grim silence, your eyes flitting about nervously.

“Inspector Kim is going to kill you,” the sad revelation escapes you, as a few tears leak out along with it.

“Do you know what Jimin would have said to that?” Hoseok replies gently. “There’s no one out there who can wipe a smile off of Jung Hoseok’s face.”

“Don’t worry,” he brushes a strand of hair from your face and brings your head down to rest on his shoulder. “He won’t be able to touch me, I’ve escaped from much worse. I’ll leave tonight before he comes in the morning.”

Your face contorts into a grimace, unable to look at him as the tears begin to fall.

“Hey,” he says. “Look at me ___. Please.”

He kneels on the floor in front of you, clutching your cold hands in his warm ones.

“I know you don’t believe a word I say, but I’m telling you the truth right now. I’ve never been able to forgive myself for what I did to you. I hate myself and will hate myself for as long as I live knowing I broke your heart.”

Red eyes meet his warm brown ones as you stutter over the words you’ve been wanting to say to him for so long.

“Did you ever love me, Hoseok?”

“I did,” he breathes out, voice cracking. “I still do. You were my only chance to lead a better life, a different life. And I threw you away. All everyone has ever done in my life is used me. Only you loved me, and I couldn’t even love you back properly.”

Hoseok clears his throat, hands coming up to cup your face. “The life you have right now isn’t the one you should be living. Depending on that last leaf to fall isn’t right. It’s not the parrot from the story, it shouldn’t mean anything to you.”

“What if it falls?” you sob. “I don’t know what I should do.”

Hoseok’s face straightens, his wet eyes becoming solemn. “It won’t fall. I promise you.”

Throwing your arms around him, your sobs become louder as his hands come to rest on your waist. Neither of you says anything. He holds you until the tears stop until you’re so tired, your eyes can no longer stay open long enough to cry anymore. And then, he lets go.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, the sunrise greets Hoseok, letting him know it’s time to leave. Reaching into his breast pocket, he slips out the photo he’d been carrying for so long, leaving it behind on the desk for you to find when you awoke.

Stepping out into the cold mountain air, he takes one last look, noticing that the tree is now bare, its last leaf carried away by the wind. Reaching into his pack, he shuffles around the numerous brushes and jars of paint to find his masterpiece. A leaf, much like the ones that had fallen from the tree, painted in stunning hues of burnt umber and rich ochre, tied to a white string. He runs his fingers over the veins, smiling to himself as he imagines the sight of you waking up to the sign of hope he’d been leaving for you the past couple of weeks.

Climbing onto the tree, he clings to the branches that sway in the wind, reaching higher and higher until he finally makes it to the top. Fetching the leaf from his pocket, he ties the string around the skinniest branch running his finger underneath to make sure it’s on there tight.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind knocks Hoseok off his feet, his body meeting air as he falls, the thick layer of snowing cushioning him. Groaning, he winces, favoring his side as he limps out onto the path, met with the sight of Inspector Kim and at least ten other men, all with their guns pointed towards him.

The smile on his face never falters as he greets death in the eye, the shot ringing out as he thinks about the leaf floating in the wind, your smile when you’d learned his name, and the life he’d just saved.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

A gasp escapes your lips as your eyes shoot open, jumping out of your bed to find Hoseok. Silence greets you as the wind whooshes outside, all traces of his existence completely removed from within the house.

Your face falls at his departure, and you take a step to retreat back into your room when the picturesque scene of falling snow from the window greets you from outside. For the first time in a long time, you venture out onto the porch, getting a first-hand look at your tree.

Noticing something strange about the last leaf that hangs on, you take a step out into the yard, drawing closer and closer, a memory springs into your head.

“I just struggle with drawing leaves. Care to show me?”

“Leaves? Leaves are easy. Let me show you.”

“These are your leaves?”

“Hey, it’s modern art.”

Taking a look at the squiggly veins on the leaf, you note how they were made by someone with an unsteady hand. The colors of the leaf are too garishly bright, appearing unnatural against the pure white backdrop of the falling snow.

“I’d live in the mountains, practising my painting each day until I paint a masterpiece. Nothing but the air and the trees around me, with no people as far as I can see, and not a sound to be heard.”

“No sound at all?”

“None.”

A/N pt. 2: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this! This is now the longest story I've written and I'm very proud of it. If some of you guessed the basis for the story (and the movie) while reading as O. Henry's The Last Leaf, you're right! Hoseok to me signifies hope, of course, which can be found in even the darkest of moments. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway.

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mercurygguk · 2 years

Text

TEASER; if it’s not you | kth (m)

POSTED !! read here

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; tba.

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst

warnings; will be stated in final post.

release date; nov 18th 2022, 10 PM CEST

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; took a break from jk fics and wrote a tae fic !! please let me know what you think of this lil sneak peek and make sure to reblog if you enjoy it as much as i hope you will 🫶🏼 happy reading! (ps. pls ignore all my typos if you see any)

will be posted next Friday! stay tuned and lmk if you wanna be tagged <3

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things and wanted them in your own, new apartment. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he just didn’t realize when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this before you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Not when someone else has the other half.

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gukieater · 3 years

Text

Fic idea 1 : Apocalyptic Heart

Pairing: Jungkook x OC (f) X Taehyung

Genre: Post Apocalyptic World, Zombie, Special Ability (Jungkook), experiments, evolution, illegal medical trial, inhuman treatment, Survival, Angst, fluff (eventual smut), possible future yandere (Jungkook), blood, possible dismantling, biting, death of minor characters, age difference, noona.

Disclaimer: This is not a full fiction or story, merely a plot. Please read this post before proceeding. If you are reading this, you can reblog the post if u want to!

Music Recommendation: Wolves of Odin- Colossal Trailer Music

Plot or Synopsis: It is about an apocalyptic world where the human population is overthrown by mutated creatures, who once used to be human. L/N Y/N is a 21 year old girl surviving on her own. She's constantly on the road, salvaging supplies for survival, on her daily run, she meets lone or group of survivors but she never sticks around, living by her rule "Alone is Safe".

On her journey to survival she meets a pregnant woman who seems to be on the run and in a pretty bad shape. Around 3 years ago, Y/N lost her sister when the breakout started, and she remembered how she was helpless enough not being able to save her sister. Seeing the pregnant woman, she is reminded of her elder sister and gets attached. So she decides to stay by her to take care of her and her unborn baby and breaks the one and only rule she lived by so far, to survive alone.

Soon she realizes the woman is being chased by people, not just brain eating monsters. They seem powerful and battle ready. She kept asking the woman why she was being chased and she told Y/N the less she knew, the safer she will be. Running from them being the 1st priority, she doesn't press the woman for further explanation. One day while supply run, they are cornered by those mystery men's and they go into hiding. The anxiety and stress leads the woman to go into labor and she gives birth to a boy. But soon their hiding location is compromised and they need to run again. After the birth the woman is too weak to run. So refuses to go with Y/N saying she will slow them down. So Y/N now has a choice to either stay and get caught by those men or take the baby and run, leaving the mother behind. The woman insists she does the later. Y/N doesn't argue further, knowing that's the only logical thing to do. So even though she feels guilty, she vows to the woman to protect the child and runs away while the woman buys her time by tricking them thinking she has the baby.

Y/N is not the kind to stay in the same location for long as it draws the undead but she needs a place to keep the baby safe, since she can't carry him to her daily run. So she decides to settle down in some outskirt, to raise him in safety. But things starts to get complicated when she notices the kid isn't an average child. He is growing at an unprecedented rate and shows undisputable strength. By the time the child was 1 months old, he already grew into a 1 year old kid.

Although she decides to take the child in to protect it and raise, in the back of her mind she somewhat resents it, knowing it was the reason the mother had to sacrifice herself. It reminds of herself, how her elder sister sacrificed herself to a group of undead when they broke into her house in the middle of the night so she can buy Y/N some time to run away. If it wasn't for either of them, her sister and the mother would be alive. So she never cuddles the baby, only holds him when he's crying, doesn't name him, never shows any affection towards it. She feels kind of relieved for the child's growth as she didn't need to care for an infant for long. But there is something in the way the child looks at her, like she holds the moon and star for him, sometimes it bothers her as if the child sees through her.

After 4 months of settling down in a outskirt school near the hill, one day she returns home after salvaging for rations, she saw that the boy was not in the room. She clearly remembers locking the door when she left but seeing the door unlocked, she starts to panic. She starts looking for the boy and curses herself for not naming him. While calling out to the boy, she hears a faint voice. She followed the trail of voice and as she moved closer, the faint voice became clearer and she can clearly hear someone calling for 'Noona'. When she stepped into the backyard she could she the boy crouching down to a half-dead plant. As the boy touched the plant she watched in her dismay the plant coming back to life. Noticing her presence, the boy looked at her direction and calling out to her as "noona". She was both shocked and scared because she never taught him to speak neither spoke much around him. The boy observed her and watching her act distant and frightened around him made him upset. As he tried to approach her to hold her hand and comfort her, she kept looking at the plant. She saw the plant wither and eventually rot as he took a step further to her direction. She was startled, she tumbled on her feet and fall down on her back and called him a monster. With teary eyes he told her his name was Jungkook,not monster or "kid". Jungkook, that's what his mother wanted to call him.

She had a lot of questions to Jungkook. Like how he opened the lock, how he knew what her mother wanted to call him, how he knew how to speak and knew what monster meant and how was he doing that to the plant. He said that he felt sad and lonely so he wanted to find you, at first he didn't know how the lock worked but he figured it out. When he made it to the backyard, he the only thing that felt alive in there was the plant and it was dying. He felt like he could help it. When she asked how he knew what sadness and loneliness was he said he shared the memory of his mother from her pregnancy. She would often cry and feel restless what she termed as sadness or loneliness until she came along. That's how he knew who Y/N was, why he called her noona and how he knew he could trust her, as he described how his mother felt around her, safe & warm. She doesn't question further about the wilting plant. After talking to Jungkook, she started connecting the dots about why his mother was chased and how Jungkook was no ordinary child. She realized maybe keeping Jungkook safe won't be just as easy as raising him.

Jungkook learned and picked up on things quite easily so going to runs was getting quite easier but still uneasiness settled in Y/N's mind. She can't control the situation when she's away and the thought of Jungkook taken away or even worse getting attacked was quite startling. She never shows it but she deeply cares about the kid. Jungkook himself was quite clingy towards Y/N although she never reciprocates the affection. She simply keeps up the role of a provider. it's been already 16 months since they've been living in the outskirt and the undead are picking up on her scent due to her daily trail in the same direction as she keeps seeing more and more of them in the surrounding area.

So after a few close encounters and trial salvage run with Jungkook, she decides to move out of the outskirt and target bigger cities. She avoided bigger cities so far thinking the people chasing Jungkook's mother may still be looking for him. By the time living there, Jungkook already grew up to become a teenager so she reasoned, the people looking for him would be looking for a child, not so much of a well-build boy who looks like who is in his late teen's. She thought maybe it's time to move around. But maybe it was not a good decision after all. Things starts to shift, not always for the best interest. Few days in the city, Y/N starts to realize that Jungkook is perfectly fit to tend for himself and rather than keeping him safe, Y/N is the one slowing him down and making him vulnerable. If she's caught with Jungkook they can use her against him to make him comply but if she's not with him, he is perfectly capable and trained to slipping away.So she decides its time to go back to her old way of life. But things doesn't go as easy as she thought as with time she got extremely attached to Jungkook. On the other hand, Jungkook experiences the same thing unfold in front of him again. At first it was his mother, who was separated from him and now his Noona whom he loves very dearly is abandoning him again. He is upset and he doesn't understand why is she leaving him and it's driving him mad. He can't even read her as he promised he won't do it without her permission. Jungkook's heart is breaking but he departs from her without any objections.

On a run close to a suspicious facility, Y/N meets a survivor who she helps escape from people that looked a lot like the people chasing Jungkook's mother. The boy, not more than 2/3 years older than her introduces himself as Dr. Kim Taehyung, a young scientist from the facility. At first she doesn't trust him but things take turns and Taehyung proves to be someone reliable. Eventually she discovers a lot about the breakout, the undead and how the facility handled the things only to make it worse. Then he mentions something about the authority going crazy about a subject escaping the facility more than 1.5 year ago and Y/N becomes alert. The description of the escaped subject eerily matched with Jungkook's mother. So she questions taehyung about it and what she finds out leaves her frantic and full of fear & guilt. She sets out to find Jungkook with the help of Taehyung as soon as she can. When departing from Jungkook she knew they would both suffer but what she did not know that, growing up, the bond he shared with her, breaking it or separating Jungkook from her would take a big toll on Jungkook. With every passing moment without her, Jungkook will loose a piece of him that made him human, made him the boy Y/N knew & raised and turn him into more of a thing Y/N feared him to be in the beginning, a monster.

PS: is it a plot anymore? I'm not sure 😅. The plot I intended to write turned out to be more detailed than I would have originally liked but ehh, whatever. If anybody does decides to write about it, they have the full liberty to make changes into the plot or turn or take the story further in any direction they want. Whether they decide to give me a credit for it or nah, it's their discretion but if they do, it would be appreciated so the readers finding this blog may enjoy the full story as well ❤️

This picture is inspired by the entire storyline so far. The pictures I used to make this collage are collected from Pinterest, I don't own them.

#BTS #jungkook #taehyung #bts fic #apocalypse #zombie fiction #jungkook x noona #jungkook yandere #post apocalypse #bts world #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #special abilities #scientific fiction #bts fic idea

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

finders keep hers, ii.

read parts one and three! continued because i have zero self-control and i love/hate these idiots and like ... i just wanna give people what they want. ty to @hobi-gif for always beta reading and you (yes, you!) for normal reading. i lob you! xo

ps. picture these versions of jimin, tae, yoongi, and jungkook.

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. still explicit, lolz. tags. smut! a lil bit of pining! jealousy! also, cameos from the other boys, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe luvs!), and a bunch of other semi-vanilla things. wc. 4.3k.

“Who’s that?” Jimin means the pretty blonde that’s attached to your best friend, snug against his hip like some kind of conjoined monster - a distant relative to the thing that’s rearing its own ugly green head from its slumber in your chest.

“I don’t know.” Lie.

Because Jungkook’s been talking your ear off about her for the past three weeks, regaling you with details you’d rather not know. Like how she does yoga at the crack of dawn and he picks her up from every class. She, apparently, looks incredible in spandex and loves her green smoothies. Or how she went to private school in Belgium and she’s got - in his words - the cutest accent. He’s mimicked it once or twice, demonstrating how her vowels don’t round like a local’s would.

You’ve heard too much about her and it’s driving you crazy.

The angel at your side - because that’s what Jimin is, with his feather grey hair and rounded Cupid’s bow - takes a sip of his drink, studying you curiously over the Baccarat rim. You can see the curiosity swimming in his eyes, painted across his features in broad strokes.

You return his stare without blinking, silently daring him to say something. He knows better - considering he’s been your shoulder to cry on more than one weak-kneed, booze-laden occasion.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Meaning the rooftop, away from the crowd that dominates the 44th floor penthouse.

You shake your head - a little motion that wiggles your bangs free from behind your ears - and take a generous sip of the Veuve that bubbles about in your champagne flute. You’re not celebrating anything - this is just how Jungkook parties. With bottles and strangers and deep bass thrumming so loudly you can feel it chatter your teeth.

Another sip and your glass is empty. “No.” You seize another from the bar you’re both leaning against, wondering idly whether it’s your third or fourth or maybe even seventh glass. You’d lost count about thirty minutes ago when Jungkook had strolled in with her on his arm, clothes dishevelled and that stupid grin on his face.

Of course he’d been late to his own party and of course he was sporting a lipstick stain on the collar of his otherwise pristine white Oxford.

“You sure?” You know Jimin means well but you can’t stand the heat of his stare or how it feels like pity digging itself beneath your bones. You don’t need - nor want - his sympathy. Not now.

“Yes,” you snap more harshly than you mean to. A wounded animal lashing out, biting the hand that feeds it.

Luckily, Jimin knows you - has, for nearly the last decade - and he takes it in stride. Chin bounces, the smallest of smiles offered in penance for his pushiness. He doesn’t need to apologize and really, he shouldn’t, but he’s Park Jimin and he’s far too kind so he does it anyway.

“I’m going to hunt down some snacks. If you need me, just come find me.”

It feels infinitely worse when he presses a kiss to your temple and disappears into the throng of people, leaving you alone with the thoughts that buzz around in your head (or maybe that’s just from the liquor).

“Replaced, huh?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It rings in your ears when you’re trying to work, forcing its way into your skull when you’re twenty sheets deep in Excel fixing some junior’s mistake. You hear it more often than you like, both in the office and when you least expect it.

You barely turn to acknowledge the broodingly handsome brunet who has seemingly materialized out of thin air. You don’t need to turn to him to see how good he looks, all carefully tousled hair and that self-assured smile.

“What’re you talking about?” It’s easier to play dumb than to play directly into his hand. You’d learnt that ages ago. Kim Taehyung was a force to be reckoned with.

“Look.” A hand lands on your jaw, none-too-subtly guiding your stare in the direction you’d been so adamantly turned away from. Jungkook and his flavour of the week are locked in a fight to see who can eat each other’s face more thoroughly, tongues so far down the other’s throat that you feel your own gag reflex kick up. “Shouldn’t you be over there?”

Concern flares, streaking heat across your cheeks. How did he know? “What?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, mischief dancing in his irises as he studies you, fingers burning impossibly warmer over your skin. “You’re best friends, aren’t you? Why’re you standing here by yourself?”

You almost laugh, relief crashing over you with enough force to knock a breath from your lungs.

“Tae, leave her alone.” It’s your knight in shining armour - or finely woven Saint Laurent cashmere, in this case - a Manhattan in hand and a scowl on his face. You thank your lucky stars, not bothering to conceal the smirk you shoot at the reprimanded playboy.

“Yeah, Tae. Leave me alone.”

He doesn’t need to be told a third time, though he levels both you and your saviour with a narrowed stare. It stirs something uncomfortable in the pit of your stomach, like a snake uncoiling and preparing to strike. You think he might say something - you can see him playing through the scenarios in his head - but he thinks better of it at the last second, draining his beer and turning away without another word.

You watch Taehyung’s crown of inky hair disappear among the crowd. It’s only once his loudly patterned Burberry shirt is out of sight that you swivel your gaze to the man at your side. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” That distinct gummy smile fills his expression. It looks good on him - but then again, most things do. With his perfectly mused strands - currently a flattering shade of teddy bear brown and honey blonde - and observant feline features, Min Yoongi is handsome in a way that sneaks up on you, dressing himself in shadows and presenting it at the strangest times.

Like now, for instance, when you’re growing tired of watching your best friend act like a high school freshman.

“You okay, though?”

“Why - do I not look like it?”

You don’t miss the way his attention drags lazily over your features and then, almost pointedly, down the lissome column of your frame. How he pauses appreciatively where wine spills over cream, the mulberry silk of your wrap dress standing in stark contrast to the porcelain of your skin. It ties neatly at the smallest point of your waist - a gift begging to be torn apart.

Something crackles between you. You’re not sure where it is or where it starts but it fizzles, bright white and dangerous. A livewire you’re suddenly very eager to inspect.

“I’d say you look more than okay,” he returns dryly, in that low timbre of his.

You feign surprise, lashes fluttering like a schoolgirl. “Are you flirting with me, Yoongi?”

It’s a testament to his confidence - that lazy swagger that fits itself into the slope of his jaw, the soft shape of his mouth, the inescapable focus of his stare - when he advances a step. There’s already hardly any space between you but he eats it up like a starved predator, crowding you with ease.

“Do you want me to be?” The bitterness of whiskey fans across your face, creeping heat over your cheek and up the delicate shell of your ear. The scent of his cologne follows - distinctly masculine and reminiscent of the sea.

“Are you answering a question with a question?” You know it isn’t what he’s looking for but you offer it anyway, paired with a taunting smile and a coquettish turn of your head.

His jaw pulls almost imperceptibly; it’s only your close proximity that gives away the thrumming muscle. Something entices you to reach out - frustration or, more likely, the bottomless champagne - and you do, the pad of your thumb soothing over the tension. You don’t expect him to lean into your touch and you nearly retreat when he does.

The flat of his own hand rises, piano-honed fingers threading easily between yours. There’s a different kind of smile presenting itself now, reckless at the edges and dressed in an unspoken challenge. He presses it wordlessly into your palm, edge of enamel catching on the baby soft underside of your hand.

You feel the livewire now. It’s a flash of lightning, searing a billion volts through every limb.

It’s a surprise that you find your voice so easily, though it comes reedy and vaguely out of breath. “That’s a yes.” You’re mimicking the motion of his mouth, dragging your own lip through the cage of your teeth. He watches, unblinking.

Crystal rim replaces the warmth of your hand as he drains the amber liquid in a single motion, nearly slamming the glass down beside you. You’d turn to make sure it’s not in a million little pieces - but you’re far too distracted by the softness of his lips, how he tastes strongly herbaceous and smokey.

The first thought to your mind is that Min Yoongi kisses nothing like Jeon Jungkook.

The second, well - that’s stolen away, disappearing into a haze of desire when he sweeps the wet muscle of his tongue across your bottom lip. He does it once then repeats the motion with an addendum of enamel, turning his polite request into a gentle demand you’re all too willing to meet.

Broad, soft palms find the shape of you beneath your dress, one gliding easily over silk to rest comfortably across the swell of your hip while the other ascends in tandem, finding a home over the column of your throat. There’s no aggression in the way he moves and claims you. He trades force for grace, threading passion where his tongue swipes and his teeth mark.

It’s a slow burn rather than a raging inferno - scorched earth following a thunderstorm.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate, each stroke of skin over skin meant to entice you. He does it well, with practiced ease - a sweep of his thumb over the hidden lace of your bra, the press of his fingers into the sensitive softness of your neck.

Even how he devours you whole is measured, calculated. He isn’t an overeager teenager looking for a quick fuck; he wants to indulge like a king at his last feast.

“You taste good,” he hums against your lips, bitten cherry red and glossy with his spit. “Look so pretty, too.”

Praise from Yoongi doesn’t come often so you bask in it, delirium and liquor painting your smile unabashed. It pulls low and slow, spilling like stars into the darkness of your eyes, the black of your pupils that devour the iris whole.

“You haven’t even tasted the sweetest part.”

It comes crashing out of your mouth like a freight train, dressed in champagne-fueled salaciousness and paired with fluttering lashes. A part of you wonders whether you’re being too forward but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care. Between the alcohol and his touch, you’re drunk in more ways than one.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. Not if his grin says anything, framed in danger and delight. It’s a heady mixture - an aphrodisiac in the form of a person’s smile. “Have to fix that then, don’t we?”

You’re ready to take him up on it - ready to do a lot of things, frankly - when a voice presents itself just beyond Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Fix what?”

Of course it’d be Jungkook.

You turn your attention to him first - you can feel Yoongi’s heavy-lidded stare trained on you when you pull away, when the warmth of your body retreats just enough that you can focus on something other than the overwhelming desire that sparks between the two of you.

Your best friend is standing not three feet away, arms folded over his chest in a way that reads like a surly nightclub bouncer or a begrudging boss. It’s nothing like the sunny radiance he normally wears - a byproduct of being rich and handsome and far too charming for his own good. You’re curious whether it’s the alcohol - you can see it still, swimming in his eyes and turning them hazy - or the fact that blondie isn’t at his side. Had she left him to fend for himself and now he was taking it out on you?

He repeats himself when neither you nor Yoongi answer, an edge to his voice you don’t expect.

“Nothing.” You, again, speak first. You don’t miss the way your answer sounds more like coddling, sweeping reassurance off your tongue.

Yoongi retreats a step, turning on his heel enough to position himself partially facing both you and Jungkook. At this angle, you study his profile, trying to find the ways emotion fits among his features. It’s a lost cause, though - he’s always had an incredible poker face.

“I was just saying her belt was a bit—” You catch the mischief that pulls the corner of his mouth high, revealing pink gums. “—loose.”

A sharp inhale follows immediately after. You don’t even realize it’s you until Jungkook is speaking, expression set and muscle pumping in his jaw. You’d think it was hot if it weren’t so goddamn uncomfortable. “Yeah?”

Sweet Yoongi is utterly unbothered, nonplussed as he adjusts the timepiece on his wrist. “Yeah.”

Watching the two interact is akin to sitting front-row at Wimbledon, your gaze bouncing between the two men like they’re whipping a fluorescent yellow ball between them. It’s so unbearable you have to remind yourself that they’ve been friends for years.

“I’m heading out,” Yoongi says, rather abruptly. He sounds almost bored, training his focus back on you for these last few moments. “Call me.”

You nod dumbly, watching his retreating back with an equally dumb look on your face.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook’s taken up his hyung’s place, dangerously close and with a sour expression on his face. You almost want to make fun of him for it - how he looks like he’s just sucked on an underripe lemon. When he levels you with that look, though, you think better of it. Time and place and all that.

You don’t meet his eyes. “Was what?”

“That.”

The same edge presents itself again. It mixes with something you can’t place, colouring his words an alarming shade of red that has your brow furrowing and mouth following suit. You don’t appreciate the tone and you say as much, finally meeting his stare with defiance burning away the residual liquor in your system. “None of your business.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, this isn’t it. Brows shoot high, tongue rounding the interior of his cheek. You’d recognize that look anywhere. It’s the look that always gets him what he wants.

Which is why, once he’s abruptly kicked all of his guests out - to a chorus of boos and what the hells! - you��re on your back in the middle of his living room. Your dress - the poor, beautiful thing - lies in a heap somewhere in the kitchen, possibly caught across the back of one of his bar stools, and his clothes act like a trail of breadcrumbs leading from the front door. Shirt, pants, socks.

All he’s left in is black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. It complements your own La Perla bra well - all delicate lace and macrame.

“Say it again,” he demands from between your legs, knees hooked over his shoulders as he coaxes you to another orgasm. One shapely forearm rests across your hip, pressure heavy on your abdomen as you clench pathetically around his fingers. He’s tapping a near brutal rhythm against your g-spot, curling two fingers within you until you’re seeing stars and too fucked-out to remember what you’re supposed to be saying.

Jungkook has no sympathy, though.

He repeats himself with gravel in his throat, pad of his thumb ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. You tremble with each pass, seeking more friction; your back is arching with delirious need, hips rolling of their own accord. It’s almost inconsequential against the weight of him.

“Say it,” he barks - a petulant child demanding a toy.

“You’re better!” It’s more a broken shriek, a sob that wrenches forth and fits lamely with the words he so desires. It almost isn’t good enough but he thinks he’s dragged this on long enough. He hasn’t even had his fun yet and you’re already shaking with oversensitivity.

“Better than who?” The question comes in a warm breath that has you bucking toward the source - or trying to, at least. You’re so needy he can’t help but laugh - a far cry from your usual too-good-for-cuddling self - the sound muffled by the slick that coats your thighs and drips down your slit, making the sweetest mess.

“Than anyone.”

He tuts, withdraws his fingers from your obscenely wet walls, and studies the strands that connect them. Pink tongue glides over his index before he’s slotting both digits against his cheek, indulging in the taste of you. If he weren’t so focused on the conversation at hand, he’d be drinking directly from the source. “Not just anyone, baby.”

You look almost shy - or at least as shy as you can look with your throat and shoulders painted with bruises and bites, chest heaving.

“Than Yoongi.”

“Don’t you forget it, sweetheart,” he coos, so kindly you almost forget about the merciless edging he’s just done, bringing you to the precipice of bliss before ripping it away.

You seek him out - the kiss-swollen shape of his mouth, the unyielding contours of his back - like you need him, like your trembling touch might coerce him into giving you what you want. You kiss him as if you’re hoping to distract him, granting him a sexpot moan when you lose the hard fought war of tongue and teeth. He thinks you think he won’t notice when you begin rutting against him, desperately seeking relief against the hard curve of his cock.

The devilish side of him wants to call you out on it but it feels a little too good, your cunt soaking through the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Someone’s needy.” He bows above you, shoulders rounded to crowd you deeper into the couch cushions, and purrs the words directly into your ear, punctuating them with sharp, unrelenting glides of his teeth.

You snap with far less malice than you intend and far more desperation than you want. “Shut up.”

“Watch it.” This time, it’s punctuated by a sharp slap against your clit. You jolt beneath him, a long drawn out whine his reward. “Don’t you want me to let you come, baby?”

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole about it.” He’d probably believe you more if you weren’t breathless and still, perhaps subconsciously, grinding yourself up against him.

“I’m the asshole?” The way Jungkook says it makes you bristle. “You were the one making out with one of my friends.”

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do that.”

And that’s when it hits you like a ton of bricks. It crashes into your feeble rib cage, a fast ball meeting its mark with perfect precision. Your heart thumps pathetically before folding in on itself - a catcher’s mitt for his cruel words.

You don’t know what you’d expected. You know your relationship and all the things it isn’t.

(You still hadn’t asked where his latest playmate had disappeared off too - you’d been too busy with his head buried between your legs.)

So you try to ignore the tears that block your vision, how suddenly all you can taste is saltwater. The most you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your molars into a fine powder with the tension in your jaw. Now is not the time.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, dismissive and amused. The Calvin Klein band now sits halfway down his thighs, his swollen head tapping experimentally on your equally swollen clit. He’s not even looking at you - far too interested in the way your essence coats his length.

“That’s what we’re doing, baby.”

Even when he speaks, he’s still staring down at the apex of your thighs, pressing the tip of his aching cock between your lips. You take him so well, your walls burning around the unrelenting, slow press of his hips. He’d fuck you every day if you’d let him. You’d actually tried it once, for a week, when your office had a round of layoffs and your stress was at an all-time high.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.” It’s praise he offers often, always far too pleased with the way you ruin your underwear. “Is this all for me?”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s filling you up like this. Still, you try, holding hostage the sounds you know he likes to hear. You swallow them, biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it throbs.

He doesn’t like that very much - burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust to elicit some sort of response. “I asked you a question.”

You can’t deny him.

A moan bounces around in your mouth, forced out when he pulls out nearly all the way and snaps back in, balls smacking lewdly against your ass. He’s got your legs propped up over his shoulders, thighs spread wide as he watches your pussy stretch around his cock. You’re folded nearly in half and his palms span your hips - perfect for him to hold you in place and fuck into you at a relentless pace.

At this angle, his cock brushes the sensitive spot against your pelvic wall. It’d be too much on its own, but he knows this position well and grinds down against you every time he pistons in. The stimulation against your clit is otherworldly, bringing you right back to the edge like flipping a switch.

“What was that?”

“I-i-it’s all for you.” You’re stuttering either because he’s bouncing you on his dick so well or because you’re about to come. Maybe both. He likes that.

“That’s right.” He maintains a firm grip on your side with a single hand, the other reaching to palm roughly at your breast. You’re already straining against the delicate fabric of your bra - he hardly has to do anything but tweak and pinch your bud and you’re clawing at his own chest, manicured nails seeking to do the same to him.

You miss your mark once or twice - you’re having troubles keeping your attention focused on anything but the tension in your core - but when you do, you’re rewarded with a stutter of Jungkook’s hips.

“Do that again,” he pants, resuming his unrelenting pace.

You tweak his nipple sharply, soothing one then the other with a pass of your thumb. The sensation starts in his belly, an electroshock in his groin that has him growling, the sound reverberating out of his chest with great need. He shifts, reclining back on his muscular calves as he peers down at your blissed out face and pretty, messy cunt.

He’s desperate for release, your fluttering walls far too wet and warm around him. “You wanna come, sweetheart?” While he asks, he doesn’t need an answer - he’ll get you there anyway.

Subtly adjusting his position, he drags one of your legs to join the other, both now propped against his left shoulder. He keeps a commanding grip on your hip with that same hand; his right snakes between your legs, seeking out the pearl of pleasure that’s all of a sudden assaulted with far too much pressure (from his hand and your own clenching thighs and what feels like a million other things).

He can feel the tremors before they present themselves in your legs, the tightening in your pussy mimicking the way your hand fists over his heart. There’ll be angry red lines for days to come - a literal x marks the spot on his otherwise unblemished honey skin.

“Come on, baby,” he croons, encouraging as always as he thumbs your clit in gentle, repetitive motions and fucks into you so hard and deep you can hardly breathe.

Your face screws into an expression of euphoria, mouth rounding as the coil snaps and ecstasy surges through your veins. It’s like an explosion of colour - fireworks igniting you from the inside out - and you’re crying, the fourth orgasm of the night swallowing you whole. You’re squeezing him so tight it almost hurts.

It’s so utterly hot that he finds his own high effortlessly, your walls milking him for all he’s worth. He spills inside you - thank fucking god for IUDs - and fucks his cum deeper, riding out his release until he feels himself softening. He gently removes your legs from his shoulders, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your ankle as he pulls out and settles beside you.

Even your little mewl of displeasure can’t deter him when he pushes two fingers past your swollen lips, gathering up the cum that’s spilling out and pushing it back in. At least he’s gentle, offering another kiss - this time to your hip bone.

“Stay the night?” He seldom asks. You always say no.

This time you don’t and he carries you to his bedroom, your face hidden against his neck. You’re left on his neatly made bed as he draws a bath - something he’s done a handful of times throughout the decade and a half friendship you’ve shared, knees pressed together and exhausted.

When he comes back and picks you up, you nearly miss what he says. It’s almost lost to the soothing scent of lavender and the sound of running water.

“Don’t do it again.”

You’re not sure what he means when he says that. You’re too afraid to ask so you say nothing. He doesn’t repeat himself either, instead leaving you on the edge of his tub with a fluffy white bathrobe and a kiss to your forehead.

Somehow, that’s even worse.

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