#TAEHYUNG | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seokwrts · 2 days ago

Text

I LIKE ME BETTER | jjk

PART TWO

summary : After walking in on her boyfriend Sanho cheating, Y/N moves out and ends up living with Jungkook, a cocky yet caring acquaintance she once couldn’t stand. What begins as a tense, passive-aggressive roommates situation slowly transforms into something deeper, as both navigate heartbreak, vulnerability, and emotional healing. Through stormy nights, late-night confessions, domestic routines, and quiet tension, Y/N and Jungkook gradually uncover the warmth and safety they’ve both been missing—especially in each other.

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen just living under the same roof?”

pairing : jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre : roommates , fluff , smut

word count : 6.2k

warnings : Explicit. This story contains sexual content, explicit language, and themes of emotional trauma. Expect a roommates-to-lovers slow burn with intense enemies-to-lovers tension, mutual pining, and eventual smut. Features include domestic intimacy, past cheating, emotional hurt/comfort, and lots of kitchen tension. There’s jealousy, unresolved sexual tension, first times, comfort sex, and characters who are both emotionally guarded and touch-starved.

When Jungkook returned from his errands, the apartment was steeped in an eerie kind of stillness—the kind that made you slow your footsteps without realizing, as if even sound didn’t dare to linger too long. The late afternoon light filtered through the living room blinds in golden slats, painting stripes on the hardwood floor like prison bars. Shoes off.

Keys tossed lightly onto the counter. The silence pressed in, broken only by the low hum of the refrigerator and the soft, irregular rustling of something fluttering in the air.

He turned toward the kitchen and saw it.

A yellow Post-it, barely clinging to the fridge door, its corner twitching in the soft breeze from the slightly open window above the sink. Below his own note—short, stiff, factual—another had appeared in familiar, looping handwriting.

“Good, because I don’t belong to him anymore.”

For a moment, he just stood there, a canvas bag of groceries still clutched in one hand. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The words registered slowly, then all at once—slipping past his rational mind, sinking straight into his chest like ink bleeding into paper.

Her handwriting.

He recognized the way she looped her y’s and how the ‘t’ never fully crossed. Slanted, a little rushed, like she didn’t want to think too long before committing it to the page. Like it came from somewhere raw. Honest.

He exhaled, quietly. His body relaxed before his brain could catch up.

It wasn’t for him. Not really. The note was a rebuttal to what he had written earlier—a cold, information-only message about her ex showing up. A neutral report, no commentary. But this… this was personal. This was a declaration. Of freedom, of closure, maybe even of defiance.

And still—somehow—it felt like it was his.

Not his to own. Not his to claim. But his to witness.

Something stirred in him. Not quite joy, but not far from it. Warmth bloomed in his chest, curling around his ribs like ivy. Was it pride? Relief? Possessiveness? God, he didn’t know. He barely even knew her. She was a stranger two weeks ago, now occupying the same apartment, drinking from his mugs, sleeping behind a thin wall, leaving sticky notes on his fridge like they’d lived ten lifetimes together.

He reached out and touched the edge of the Post-it with a finger. It crinkled gently beneath the pad of his thumb. Fragile. Intentional. A message meant to be read. To be seen.

He reread it.

“Good, because I don’t belong to him anymore.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. Not a full smile. Just a flicker. The kind that rose up before you could stop it—quick, involuntary, and all the more dangerous for it.

She didn’t belong to him anymore.

That line repeated in his head like a song stuck on loop, and goddamn if it didn’t make something in him tighten. Not because he wanted to own her. No. It was something else. The conviction. The edge in her tone. The reclaiming of her own body, her own choices, her own damn name.

She wasn’t running back. She wasn’t cracking under the weight of gossip or guilt. She had chosen—again, and deliberately—not to go back to the boy who broke her.

And she had written it down. Here. For him to read.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

The groceries hit the counter with a soft thud. He didn’t bother unpacking them yet. Instead, he leaned back against the opposite wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on that little square of yellow like it might vanish if he looked away.

He didn’t know what was happening to him. Not really.

But he knew how he felt when she was in the room. He knew the sound of her laugh in the morning, muffled by her toothbrush. He knew she sang to herself while washing dishes.

That she hoarded teabags in the second cabinet to the left and stole the good throw blanket when she was curled up on the couch. That she cried, quietly and with her whole body, when she thought no one was listening. That she left her vulnerability hanging in the air like smoke, stubborn and soft and impossible to ignore.

He knew all that. And he hadn’t known her at all two weeks ago.

A stranger, they said.

Some girl, they said.

And now—now he felt like her fucking shadow.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through gritted teeth. The weight in his chest twisted and pulsed, too close to something dangerous. He didn’t want to name it. Naming it made it real. And real meant risk. He didn’t do real.

But he was thinking about the night she fell asleep on the couch with her hair tangled in his hoodie. He was thinking about how her bare feet looked on his kitchen tile. He was thinking about the way she had smiled—just a little, just once—when he handed her a bowl of instant ramen without asking if she wanted dinner.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “FUCK”

“What the fuck is happening to me?” he muttered aloud.

His voice echoed back at him, thin and unimpressed. There was no one to answer.

And still, something about the apartment didn’t feel so cold anymore.

He turned back toward the Post-it. Read it one last time. Then pulled open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and walked away—heart heavier than it had been that morning, but somehow lighter, too.

Like something had changed.

And maybe it had.

Maybe it was already too late.

That morning, Y/N had left early for college, the lingering scent of Jungkook’s hoodie still clinging to her like comfort. The fabric wrapped around her like a memory she wasn’t ready to fold away yet—a soft promise in a world that had become too loud.

She didn’t look in the mirror as she stepped out. Not because she didn’t want to see her face, but because she couldn’t bear to face the girl behind it—the girl still stitching herself together with trembling fingers and borrowed strength.

Campus was already awake. Students flooded the halls, laughter and music spilling from the dorms like the world hadn’t ended just a few days ago. But today, it all felt different. Laughter didn’t sound quite right.

The air was too sharp. The conversations stopped too abruptly when she passed by. Eyes dragged across her body like questions she didn’t want to answer.

She ignored it. Shoulders back. Chin up. Pretend nothing had changed.

And then, she saw him.

Sanho.

Standing just beyond the courtyard gates like a curse she thought she’d buried. Like an old wound torn back open. He wore that same leather jacket he always had when he wanted to look put-together. Hands in his pockets. That same smug confidence like nothing had touched him. Like he hadn’t shattered her.

He called her name like it still belonged to him. “Y/N.”

She stopped walking. Everything inside her twisted into a fist.

He stepped forward. “Can we talk?”

Her voice was cold. “No.”

“Just five minutes,” he insisted, his tone drenched in entitlement. “I just want to explain.”

“There’s nothing left to explain.” Her arms crossed over her chest—guarded, stiff. “You cheated. End of story.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he muttered. “I made a mistake.”

She barked a bitter laugh. “No, Sanho. A mistake is forgetting a date. A mistake is spilling coffee. You didn’t trip and fall into someone else’s bed.”

“It didn’t mean anything!” he hissed. “It was one time.”

“That’s supposed to make it better?” Her voice cracked, high with disbelief. “That it was meaningless? You broke me for nothing?”

“I was drunk. She came onto me. You were always so—so distant.”

There it was. The excuse. The one she’d been waiting for.

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your inability to keep it in your pants.”

He rolled his eyes. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so fucking dramatic.”

Her blood ran hot.

“No,” she said. “I’m not dramatic. I’m devastated. There’s a difference.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

“And now you’re living with some guy you barely know? That’s not devastated. That’s pathetic.”

She didn’t flinch, but her heart did.

“Don’t talk about him.”

“What, are you sleeping with him now?” he sneered. “That why you’re so quick to forget me?”

Her jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “You don’t get to ask that.”

“It’s a fair question.”

“No, it’s not,” she spat. “You lost the right to ask anything about me the moment you climbed into someone else’s bed.”

Sanho’s voice rose. “You’re really gonna act like I meant nothing to you?”

She blinked. Pain pulsed behind her eyes like a bruise she hadn’t touched. “You meant everything to me. That was the problem.”

The silence between them was thick, suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, softer now. “You weren’t supposed to find out like that. I didn’t—”

“You didn’t think I’d matter enough to protect,” she cut in. “Just admit it, Sanho. You liked the way I loved you. You just didn’t want to be responsible for it.”

He didn’t answer.

“You talk about what we had like it was some epic love story,” she said. “But the truth is, it was a slow erosion. You chipped away at me, piece by piece, until I was small enough to ignore.”

“I messed up,” he said. “But we can fix this.”

She stared at him. “No. You messed up. And I’m finally done paying for it.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice turning sharp. “You think he’s better than me?”

“I think he’s not you,” she whispered.

He scoffed. “You don’t even know him.”

“And you never tried to know me.”

Sanho took a step forward, eyes hard. “He’ll leave you, too. Just wait. You’re not exactly easy to love.”

That hit like a punch. She staggered back—emotionally, if not physically. But she didn’t let it show.

“No,” she said. “I’m hard to hurt. That’s why you’re so angry.”

He was silent.

“And for the record,” she said, stepping close now, so only he could hear, “if I were sleeping with him? That would be none of your goddamn business.”

His eyes blazed, lips parting—but she wasn’t finished.

“You can’t stand it, can you?” she whispered. “That I’m not broken without you. That I’m still standing. That I might actually find someone who sees me.”

She saw the twitch in his jaw, the clench of his fists. But she didn’t back down.

“You didn’t lose me because I moved in with someone else,” she said. “You lost me the moment you decided I wasn’t enough.”

And then she slapped him.

The sound echoed through the courtyard like the end of something. Final. Brutal. Righteous.

He recoiled, hand flying to his face in disbelief.

Everyone saw. Everyone heard. But for once—she didn’t care who was watching.

Y/N didn’t wait for him to recover. Her chest heaved, but her shoulders were square. She turned, her feet steady, and walked away.

And this time, she didn’t look back.

By lunch, it was all over Twitter.

#Y/NHomewrecker

#SanhoDeservedBetter

#RoommateAffair

#SheCheatedFirst

#CampusSlutFiles

They spun tales from scraps of reality like rabid playwrights addicted to drama.

According to them, Y/N had cheated first.

According to them, Sanho was the heartbroken angel.

According to them, the man she now lived with was either her secret boyfriend, her escape plan, or her latest conquest.

One thread read:

🧵 @campusKween

Not her moving in with a whole man as if we wouldn’t notice 💅

Roommate?? sis you don’t need six suitcases for “boundaries” 😭

#Y/NHomewrecker #RoommateAffair

Another posted a blurry photo of her outside Jungkook’s dorm, dragging her suitcase behind her:

🧵 @truthordorm

ok timeline:

• Y/N and Sanho date for 3 years

• Sanho caught crying in econ lecture

• Y/N moves in w campus hot boy

• Y’ALL DO THE MATH 💀

#SanhoDeservedBetter

Even the fake-feminist takes hurt the most:

🧵 @feministfae

i love women. i support women.

but not women who cheat and lie and manipulate soft boys.

Sanho used to bring her lunch. Now she’s bringing trauma to a new man.

this is why therapy > relationships 💋

#Y/NHomewrecker

Confession blogs began to pile on:

🧵 @confessU_blog

💌 “I used to know her. She always needed attention. Once told me Sanho was ‘too clingy.’ I’m not shocked.”

#Y/NTea #CampusConfessions

🧵 @libconfessions

“We don’t know him, but the guy Y/N moved in with looks cold af. Tall, sharp jaw. Probably doesn’t talk to people. Probably writes poetry. Probably ruins lives.”

same anon: “…but hot.”

#MysteryRoommate #RoommateAffair

Group chats got leaked:

Group Chat Screenshot: Architecture Girls GC

👩‍🎓 Hana: bro she sat 3 rows behind me in studio yesterday

👩‍🎓 Nari: did she look guilty??

👩‍🎓 Yejin: nah she looked DEAD inside

👩‍🎓 Nari: maybe she should be

👩‍🎓 Joo: idc she’s got taste, that guy is sexy

👩‍🎓 Hana: SANHO CRIED IN FRONT OF THE DEPARTMENT

She didn’t cry. Not again.

She walked into the library with her hood up, gaze lowered, hands stuffed deep into her pockets. A pair of students paused mid-conversation when she passed. One of them smirked.

“That’s her. The homewrecker.”

“She looks tired. Guilt must be exhausting.”

Y/N didn’t look back. She just kept walking, all the way to the last table near the dusty old window where no one ever sat. The light above her buzzed, flickering like it couldn’t decide whether to stay on or die altogether.

She pulled out her notes. The page was wrinkled. Her highlighter was dry at the tip — yellow, faded. She licked it. It worked again.

She underlined half a paragraph before her vision blurred.

In her head, it played like this:

Sanho cheating.

Sanho crying.

Sanho weaponizing her silence.

Jungkook saying nothing. Jungkook letting her be.

And then the tweets again, looping, glitching in her brain like static:

“She moved on in 48 hours. Who does that?”

“I heard he’s a dropout.”

“She’s disgusting. Poor Sanho.”

Hours passed.

She didn’t get up to pee. She didn’t eat. Her hands were ink-stained. Her phone vibrated once, twice. She didn’t check.

By the time the sun dipped behind the skyline, she felt like she had aged years.

She packed her things silently, walked past the whispers again.

“She didn’t even flinch.”

“Probably doesn’t feel anything anymore.”

“You think they’re sleeping together?”

“Duh.”

Outside, the wind was sharp. It slashed at her cheeks and turned her breath into cold clouds. But she didn’t feel it.

She walked to the convenience store like she was sleepwalking. Her feet knew the way. Her mind was back in that night — the night she saw the text on Sanho’s phone.

The girl’s name.

The apology she hadn’t asked for.

“I didn’t even finish,” he had said. Like that excused it.

Inside the store, the fluorescent lights made her headache bloom behind her eyes.

She stared at the wall of soju bottles — peach, grapefruit, lemon, classic.

The green glass shimmered like fragile promises:

Peach for the girl who used to believe in gentle love.

Citrus for the bitterness lodged in her chest.

Original for the version of herself that didn’t exist anymore.

Should she get drunk?

Would it help?

Would it make her cry or feel numb? Would it make her want to knock on Jungkook’s door at 2 a.m. and tell him she was tired of being strong?

Would it make her forget Sanho’s hands on someone else?

Would it make her forget the public shame — being reduced to a hashtag?

She didn’t choose.

She bought all six.

The cashier didn’t say a word. Just scanned the bottles and handed her the receipt without a glance. As if this kind of thing happened every day.

Maybe it did.

The plastic bag thudded against her thigh as she walked back home.

The streets were quieter now. The wind less cruel. The numbness thicker.

Her thoughts drifted like fog. To Sanho. To Jungkook. To everything she’d lost and everything she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore.

Sanho had cried publicly. He’d collapsed into people’s sympathy like a prince denied his crown.

Jungkook hadn’t cried. He hadn’t asked questions. He hadn’t even judged her.

He let her take the bigger bedroom. He passed her a cup of warm tea last night without saying anything about the trembling in her fingers.

He didn’t pretend to understand her. He just stayed close enough for her to feel less alone.

She wondered what people would say if they knew the truth.

That Sanho cheated.

That she never wanted revenge.

That she hadn’t even kissed Jungkook.

Not yet.

Her apartment was close now.

The windows glowed softly in the dark, one of them flickering — probably Jungkook’s room. But as she drew closer, her footsteps slowed.

The light was on, but the apartment felt wrong. Still. Unoccupied.

No music. No soft hums from his room. No muffled sounds of him moving about the kitchen in that quiet, economical way of his — like he was trying not to disturb something already too fragile.

The apartment was empty.

Jungkook wasn’t home.

That hit harder than she thought it would.

She’d told herself she didn’t want him to see her like this — a ghost with shaking hands and six bottles of denial rattling in a plastic bag. But some buried part of her, cracked and craving, had hoped he would be there. That he’d glance up when she walked in, maybe nod silently like he understood something without asking. That he’d be there to keep her from doing what she was about to do.

But he wasn’t.

The door creaked open. The hallway greeted her with shadows and the faint smell of clean laundry and sandalwood — the scent Jungkook carried in the folds of his sleeves.

Her fingers closed tighter around the plastic bag as she stepped inside.

The lights had been left on — one in the hallway, dim and gold, casting long, quiet shadows. His door was ajar, the curtain fluttering softly from the cracked window. He’d forgotten to close it again. He always did that.

She toed off her shoes without a sound. Her socks caught on the edge of the rug and twisted. She didn’t bother fixing it.

The apartment was too quiet. The silence almost rang.

She moved to the kitchen and placed the soju bottles on the counter with more care than they deserved. One by one. Their green glass clinked gently against the laminate, each thud a soft admission.

She stared at them. Like they might answer something she hadn’t dared ask aloud.

Who am I now?

She didn’t know.

She wasn’t the girl Sanho loved anymore.

She wasn’t the girl the internet thought she was.

She wasn’t even sure she was the girl who had once walked across this campus with a smile and a future and a boy who held her hand like it meant something.

She wasn’t the girl Jungkook knew, either.

Not really. He’d never asked for her story. He just made space for her to breathe inside his.

Her steps faltered. She walked away from the counter.

Into the bathroom.

The light was harsh when she turned it on. It flickered, then held. Her reflection stared back — a stranger made of bruised eyes, bitten lips, and skin that looked too pale under the fluorescent wash. She looked tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix.

She turned the tap on and scrubbed her hands with a vengeance, like she could scrape off the day. The noise filled the room, water rushing over her trembling fingers, but inside her chest, everything was quiet.

Jungkook’s voice flickered in her memory — something he’d said a few days ago when he thought she wasn’t listening:

“You don’t owe anyone your pain.”

She hadn’t responded then.

Now she almost laughed.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she did owe it. Maybe that’s why the world was making her pay for it, over and over.

She turned off the faucet and stood there, breathing.

Then she walked back to the kitchen, like someone moving through the wreckage of a place they used to call home.

The bottles waited for her.

One in particular — peach, soft pink label, the kind she used to share with Sanho on the nights they pretended they were more than just tired and trying.

She picked it up.

Twisted the cap.

Click.

The scent hit her — sweet, syrupy, childish. Like it was mocking her for thinking it could fix anything.

She stared at it for a long moment.

Then, with slow, deliberate hands, she poured it into a glass.

It barely filled halfway.

Her fingers trembled when she picked it up.

The first sip burned a little — not from the alcohol, but from everything behind it.

And in the silence of an empty apartment, surrounded by shadows and unopened bottles, Y/N finally stopped trying to hold it all in.

She didn’t cry.

Not yet.

But her throat burned.

And she kept drinking anyway.

Jungkook had been at the studio most of the day, headphones wrapped tight over his ears, fingers tracing melodies on the worn keyboard. A new track was slowly coming together — a rising indie artist with raw, honest lyrics that stirred something fragile inside him. Nothing fancy, no big labels or flashing lights, just music that paid the bills and gave him a sliver of joy he couldn’t find anywhere else. A quiet refuge from the chaos outside.

The dim lights of the studio hummed softly, casting long shadows against scattered sheets of lyric paper and half-empty coffee cups. He closed his eyes, searching for the right note, when suddenly his phone buzzed insistently against the cluttered desk.

Dad.

His chest tightened. The name alone felt like a weight pulling him under. He almost didn’t answer — every fiber of his being screamed to let it go to voicemail, to shut that door again. But curiosity mixed with exhaustion made him lift the phone.

“What are you doing with your life, Jeon Jungkook?” The voice was sharp, cold — like an ice blade slicing through thin skin, no greeting, no softness, just judgment.

Jungkook swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly. “I’m working,” he said evenly, forcing calm into his voice.

“Working? You call that music shit a job? You think producing beats and mixing tracks will get you anywhere? You had potential—medical school, business, something real.”

“It’s my career,” Jungkook shot back, voice rising slightly. “I’m not wasting time. I make music people want to hear. I help artists find their sound. It’s real work.”

“Real work?” his father sneered. “You’re a kid playing with sounds, fooling yourself that this is success. You’re nothing but a failure in my eyes. When will you grow up and face reality?”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening around the phone. “I’m not you. I’m not living your life.”

“Then you’re wasting it. Don’t expect me to support some fantasy.”

The words weren’t new. They had echoed through years of silence and disappointment. But today, they landed differently — sharper, heavier, bleeding beneath his skin. Like a punch he didn’t see coming but felt in every breath afterward.

“I’m proud of what I’m building,” Jungkook said, voice quieter now but firm. “Maybe not what you want, but it’s mine. I’m working with artists who believe in me. I’m not just chasing a dream—I’m making it real.”

“You’re chasing nothing but failure. I hope one day you realize that.”

He ended the call before he said something he’d regret.

Jungkook sat motionless for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear, as if holding on might keep the words from settling in. The soft buzz of the studio faded into a distant murmur. He wanted to scream, to throw everything against the walls, but instead, his hands fell to his lap, shaking.

The artist, who had been quietly watching from the mixing console, finally spoke.

“You okay?” she asked softly, her eyes gentle but concerned.

Jungkook forced a tight smile. “Yeah. It’s just… family stuff.”

She nodded knowingly. “I get it. My family thought this whole music thing was a joke too. But you’re good. Really good. This track? It’s got soul. You’ve got a gift.”

He looked up at her, the weight of his father’s words still pressing down but softened a little by her faith.

“I’m trying,” he admitted. “Every day. Producing, mixing, writing… It’s not glamorous, but it’s honest. I don’t have a big studio or a fancy label. I’m just me and a laptop, a couple of synths, and whatever beats I can create. It’s small, but it’s mine.”

She smiled. “And that’s enough.”

“Maybe for now,” he said, gathering his jacket. “But sometimes, it feels like I’m fighting against the whole world.”

“Then fight smarter. Take care of yourself too.”

He nodded, grateful for the reminder.

“Let’s call it a day,” she said softly. “You’re not here right now.”

He wanted to argue — say he could still fix the track, could still lose himself in the music — but he knew she was right.

“Tomorrow, Jungkook,” she added gently.

He nodded, though she couldn’t see it, and stepped out into the night.

The city buzzed around him — distant car horns, muffled conversations, neon signs flickering with tired light. But none of it touched him. His mind replayed the call, his father’s voice echoing louder than any street noise.

As he walked home, the cool wind nipped at the edges of his hoodie, but Jungkook barely felt it. His mind had wandered off somewhere else — somewhere messier, somewhere strangely warm.

That stupid little Post-it had resurfaced in his mind again.

Good, because I don’t belong to him anymore.

He’d read it hours ago, just once, maybe twice. Okay, four times. But he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

The thing was — it wasn’t just what it said. It was the tone. The bite. The breathlessness beneath it. It wasn’t about Sanho, not entirely. Not anymore.

Some reckless, whispering part of him kept circling back to the way she’d left it — stuck to the fridge, where he would see it. Where only he would see it.

He hadn’t meant to read it. But now that he had, it was like it had been written for him.

His lips curved upward, slow and stupid. God. He was smiling. Like an idiot.

Like a full-grown man who couldn’t stop grinning over a pink square of paper and seven sharp words.

What if she wanted him to see it?

What if, deep down, it was meant for him?

The idea wrapped around his chest like a dangerous promise — a terrifying kind of hope he didn’t know what to do with. He hadn’t believed in stuff like that in a while. Maybe never.

He reached the edge of the block, stopped under the flickering streetlamp, and leaned against the brick wall for a second. His fingers itched to text her. Or say something dumb. Like Thanks for the note, or I don’t want you to belong to anyone either.

But that was the problem.

He wanted to say something.

He wanted it to mean something.

And that scared the hell out of him.

What if he was reading too much into it?

What if it really was just about Sanho?

What if he was just the roommate — the temporary, emotionally damaged guy who happened to be kind enough not to ask too many questions?

His smile faltered. The warmth in his chest began to splinter under the weight of reality.

But even so, he couldn’t shake it.

That Post-it note was burned into his memory now. The way she wrote it like a punch she’d finally thrown. Like she had no one else to say it to. Like she’d waited too long to say it at all.

And still… she’d stuck it there.

Right on the fridge. Right in their shared space.

Maybe it wasn’t a confession.

Maybe it wasn’t anything at all.

But to Jungkook — walking home from a long day, his father’s voice still echoing in his ears, his hands still trembling from words unsaid — it meant everything.

It meant someone else out there was trying to choose themselves, too.

And that felt like the closest thing to connection he’d had in years.

He exhaled slowly, shoved his hands in his pockets, and crossed the street toward their apartment.

Scared or not, smiling or not —

he knew one thing for sure.

He was going to remember that note forever.

When Jungkook walked into the apartment, the lights were dimmed, and Y/N was leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped around a green soju bottle, her eyes vacant, distant — like she hadn’t quite come back to earth yet.

She didn’t look up when he entered. But he didn’t need her to. The air between them already knew how heavy the day had been.

Wordlessly, he stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a glass beside her. The bottle clinked softly against the rim.

She glanced over, finally. “Bad day?”

He nodded and downed the shot.

Another followed. Then another.

After the third, he finally exhaled, jaw tight. “My dad called.”

Y/N’s fingers curled loosely around the neck of her bottle. “Yeah?”

“He thinks what I’m doing is a waste. That music’s a fucking phase I’ll grow out of. Wants me to quit and get a 9-to-5 like a ‘respectable adult.’” The last words dripped with bitterness.

Her gaze softened, quiet fury and quiet pity threading together in her throat. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” he muttered. “But it’s expected.”

They drank more. The silence thickened—not heavy, not empty. Just swollen with everything unsaid.

When she passed him the bottle again, her fingers brushed his. He didn’t pull away.

She watched him quietly for a second. “He doesn’t know you,” she said. “What you’re capable of.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. “Maybe. But he’s right about one thing—I don’t have much to show for it.”

Y/N’s voice sharpened. “That’s bullshit.”

He looked at her.

“I’ve heard your mixes,” she continued. “I’ve watched you work in your room for hours without blinking. Your music has this… ache. Like something alive trying to crawl out of you. It’s not just beats and basslines, Jungkook. It’s fucking beautiful. It matters.”

The words landed differently than anything else had all day. Deeper. Unfiltered. Undeniable.

They passed the bottle again. Their fingers brushed. This time, neither of them moved away.

He was about to ask her something—anything—when her voice cracked the silence again. Quiet. Small.

“Sanho came up to me today.”

Jungkook stilled.

“Outside the student café. Just—walked up to me like we were still something. Like I was his.”

His jaw tightened. “What’d he say?”

She laughed bitterly. “Called me a whore. In front of everyone.”

Jungkook’s shoulders went rigid. “What?”

“Said I was flaunting you. That I moved in with you to get back at him. That I’ve probably already fucked you and that’s why I’m so smug.”

“What the actual—” He started pacing. “That fucking prick. That pathetic, hypocritical, lying little shit—”

“He said I ruined his life.”

Jungkook turned around sharply. “He cheated on you. He ruined yours.”

Y/N’s hands curled tighter around the bottle, but her voice remained calm. Too calm. “I didn’t even say anything. Just stood there. Let him talk.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath. “Motherfucker. And the rest of them? Twitter?”

She gave him a flat look. “#RoommateAffair. #Y/NHomewrecker. #SanhoDeservedBetter. Apparently, I cheated. I slept around. I’m using you for attention. Nobody remembers what he did. Not one tweet questions him.”

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook hissed. “I swear to fucking God, I hope every single one of those dipshits breaks a nail scrolling through their fake-ass hot takes. What the fuck is wrong with people?”

He turned to her, furious now. “You’re not a goddamn villain. You’re not some rebound whore or social climber. You’re just—you’re just trying to breathe and they’re treating you like blood in the water.”

Y/N’s chest rose and fell sharply, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t cry.”

He looked at her.

“Not after the tweets. Not after he yelled. Not even after people started filming me. I didn’t cry. I just walked to the library and kept reading the same paragraph for three hours. I don’t even remember what it was about.”

Something twisted in Jungkook’s chest.

“I thought about drinking the entire way home,” she confessed. “I thought about getting so drunk I wouldn’t have to feel any of it.”

She looked up at him then.

“But then I remembered that post-it.”

His breath caught. “The one on the fridge?”

Y/N nodded. “It wasn’t just about him. It was about… choosing myself. For once.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. The ache between them stretched, pulling taut, desperate to snap.

“You’re too soft for this world,” he said, voice low.

She gave a hollow laugh. “Then stop making it harder for me.”

Something shifted.

A slow, magnetic pull.

He reached for the bottle again, but she caught his wrist.

Their eyes locked.

And then—finally—he leaned in.

Their lips met, slow but aching. One kiss. Then another, firmer, deeper.

The tension that had coiled between them for weeks unspooled all at once. He cupped her jaw with one hand and slid the other to her hip, tugging her against him with a soft groan that trembled through both of them.

She gasped into his mouth, and it unraveled him.

It wasn’t gentle now.

It was hot, hungry. His tongue swept over hers as her hands clutched at his hoodie, dragging him closer until there was no space left. Her back hit the counter, and he pressed into her, chest to chest, heart to heart.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging when his lips moved from her mouth to her throat, tracing a path of heat and hunger.

She moaned. “Fuck, Jungkook…”

He exhaled sharply against her skin. “Say that again.”

She whispered it slower this time, teasing, breathless:

“Fuck, Jungkook.”

Something in him shattered.

The sound of his name on her lips—fragile, wrecked, desperate—tore into whatever thin thread of control he had left. His mouth crashed against hers, hungry and bruising, hands threading into her hair as he pressed her further into the counter like he wanted to crawl inside her chest and live in the space where pain met desire.

And she gave in—fully, freely—fingers clinging to his hoodie, thighs tightening around his hips, a low moan slipping out between their kisses.

But just as she leaned in to kiss him again—

He froze.

Right there.

A flicker of hesitation. Then dread.

Jungkook pulled back abruptly, breath ragged, eyes wide and frantic like he’d just woken up from something dangerous.

“I…” He stepped back another inch, voice cracking. “You don’t want me.”

Y/N blinked. Confused. Lips swollen, chest heaving. “What?”

“You don’t,” he said again, quieter now. “I’m not—” He exhaled like it hurt. “I’m not safe.”

She straightened, sliding off the counter as her high drained into something hollow. “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook shook his head, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I’m not the guy people fall for, Y/N. I’m the one they use to feel something again. I’m the rebound. I’m the one you get over someone with.”

His voice turned rough, desperate. “You don’t even know me.”

“That’s not—”

“You think this is a good idea?” he snapped, gesturing between them. “You’re hurting. You’re angry. You’re drunk. You don’t want me, you just want a way out.”

Her heart thudded. “You don’t know what I want.”

“I know myself,” he muttered, taking another step away. “And trust me, you deserve better than this mess.”

Silence fell between them—heavy and final.

And before she could say another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

The door to his room clicked shut behind him.

Y/N stood there for a long time, staring at nothing. The fridge hummed behind her. The bottle sat open on the counter, still half full.

Her fingers pressed to her lips, and for a second, it felt like he was still kissing her.

The warmth hadn’t faded yet.

But god, the cold was starting to creep in.

hey tumblr !!

i’m back with part two of “i like me better” — and things are definitely starting to heat up 👀

hope you guys can feel the tension simmering between these two because it only gets messier from here.

also, the masterlist for this series is now up, so don’t forget to check that out if you’re new or need to catch up!

reblogs, comments & kisses are always appreciated 💌

with love,

xo, ario 💋

202 notes · View notes

gukcnt · 18 hours ago

Text

MY LOVE, UNTIL I RETURN ⭒ KTH

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

pairing — dom!taehyung x sub!femreader

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

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

wc — 11k

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

m. list

────୨ৎ────

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

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

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

Taehyung was beside you.

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

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

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

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

And a desperation.

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

With a fierce love.

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

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

Enveloping you.

Reminding you of his impending departure.

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

Your heart feeling like it's trapped.

A reminder.

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

Taehyung's deep voice soon breaks the silence.

“My love,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

Voice cracking slightly with emotion.

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

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

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

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

Stealing your breath.

“Tae…” you whisper.

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

He shifts closer, arm wrapping around your waist possessively.

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

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

“I know my baby”

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

Wanting to stay strong for you.

His lips brush your forehead, lingering there.

Branding himself into your skin.

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

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

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

The steady beat of his heart matching your own.

That lulled you to sleep several nights.

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

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

Your fingers clutching shirt.

Desperately clinging to him.

۶ৎ

The week before his departure has been full of emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

His hands never leaving yours, fingers holding yours tightly

Afraid you’ll slip away.

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

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

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

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

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

Never leaving a chance to not touch you.

But the nights—oh god, the nights.

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

The nights were a mix of touches and need.

Bodies speaking louder than words.

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

And yet no amount of memorizing felt enough.

Not when the time constantly taunted you both.

۶ৎ

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

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

Consuming you.

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

“My love,” he rasps.

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

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

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

“Do you hear me, hm, baby?”

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

A rare emotion, he hides so well.

He never cries.

But for you, he was a broken man.

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

“I love you, Taehyung,”

You sob, voice muffled.

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

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

Only the two of you.

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

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

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

Because you knew… that soon…

It will be all you have left.

۶ৎ

It's the day before Taehyung's departure.

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

The ache in your chest.

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

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

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

Anger at the time slipping away.

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

“Darling…”

His voice making your throat tighten.

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

A shiver goes down your spine.

“I want today to be ours.” he growls.

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

Wanting to make the most of today.

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

“Taehyung,” you crooned

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

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

Against your will.

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

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

“Baby,” he hums.

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

Lips brushing over your jawline.

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

۶ৎ

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

Breakfast was quiet in the kitchen.

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

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

Making your legs clench unknowingly.

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

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

A boxy smile that was now tinged with sadness.

That he tried his best to hide.

“Eat for me, love,” he orders.

His commanding voice slipping out of him, unknowingly.

Whenever he needs to take care of you.

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

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

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

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

He always does.

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

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

“tae…”

His grip tightens on you, eyes darkening.

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

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

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

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

His actions making you ache more.

And you realize you’ll ache forever.

Until he returns.

۶ৎ

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

Voice lacing with desire.

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

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

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

He motions at you with a single finger.

“Come here,” he exhales, sharply.

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

Making it see through for your man.

The sensation feeling too much.

He pulls you against him, hands clutching your hips.

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

You forget about everything.

Except him.

“You’re so beautiful…” he hums.

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

“I wanna you feel good,” he purrs.

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

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

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

It landed on the floor.

Leaving you bare for him.

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

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

Your insecurities fades.

“Tae…” you whisper.

“You make me feel so…so seen.”

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

Almost like a feral animal taking his place.

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

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

“Mmm, tae…”

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

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

Made for his hands specifically.

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

Your clit throbbing in need.

“Hah… oh, Tae!”

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

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

“Mhm, oh…oh…please—”

The combination of pain and pleasure making you pant.

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

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

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

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

Chasing the droplets with his tongue.

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

“Nghh, Taehyung!” You cry out.

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

Your hands, desperate for him, slides down his body, tracing the hard planes of his chest and abs, the water helping your hand glide easily.

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

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

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

His head falling back, the noises escaping unrestrained.

“Fuck my love,” he pants.

Hips bucking into your hand.

“You drive me crazy.”

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

Your mouth waters with want.

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

Seeking relief.

“You’re so hard…” you coo.

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

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

“I want you,” he gruffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

All while he fucks your fist, hips bucking.

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

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

As if he's memorizing you.

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

You didn’t want teasing.

Not today.

Not when the time was running out so fast.

“Tae, I need you,” you begged.

He nods, eyes darkening with a promise.

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

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

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

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

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

Savoring his attention.

۶ৎ

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

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

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

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

“My love,” he breathes.

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

Devotion in his words.

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

Taking away your instinct to hide.

“Taehyung,” you tremble.

“I’m yours.”

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

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

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

“Mhhh, Tae…” You moan, softly.

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

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

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

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

A gasp leaving your mouth.

A faint hickey left on your skin.

The sensation was a delicious sting, your toe curling.

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

His eyes taking you in.

“Perfect,” he rasps, in awe.

“Absolutely goddamn perfect for me”

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

He smirks wickedly, at your neediness.

A knowing curve on his lips.

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

“Oh, Taehyung!” You cry out.

Fingers tangling in his damp hair, tugging.

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

“Please… please!” Your breath shakes.

Hips shifting against the sheets.

“It feels so good”

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

You're a squirming mess for him.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, darkly.

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

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

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

Lips lingering on your navel, tongue licking a stripe.

The tickling feeling making you squeak.

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

The sound draws a deep chuckle from him.

He glances up at you, eyes sparkling with love.

“I love that sound too,” he says.

Thumb brushing your thigh.

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

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

But it doesn’t last long.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you,” he grunts.

“So wet for me already.”

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

“Tae… please,” you whimper.

Hips bucking towards him, seeking more

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

Your hands fisting the sheets tightly, brows furrowing.

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

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

After all the teasing.

He finally presses his mouth to you.

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

“Hahh hah, Tae—”

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

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

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

Voice unrestrained.

“Oh God, Taee,”

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

Your strength nothing compared to his.

He continues worshipping you with his mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

Overwhelmed.

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

You start seeing stars behind your vision.

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

The dual sensation was too much

Too much all at once.

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

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

“Nghh, Tae, I’m fuck—I’m close,”

You quivered.

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

He doesn’t let up.

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

A delicious torture.

“Come for me, princess,” he hisses.

Lips brushing your clit as he speaks.

“I want to feel you fall apart.”

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

“Taehyung! Oh god, Taehyung!”

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

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

He doesn’t stop.

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

Oversensitive and breathless.

“It’s too much, please—”

You plead.

Hands tugging at his hair.

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

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

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

A reminder of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

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

“Love you too… my baby”

Forehead resting against yours.

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

Your heart close to bursting.

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

A proof of how he unraveled you so easily.

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

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

It's not possible.

Taehyung senses it, pulling you tighter to him.

His lips brushing your ear.

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

۶ৎ

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

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

A music genre that Taehyung always loved.

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

As if the world had slowed.

To savor these last hours with Taehyung.

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

But for now.

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

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

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

“My love,”

“Dance with me.”

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

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

Protectively.

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

The other hand guiding your hand to his shoulder.

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

You sway together.

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

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

In that moment it felt like the world disappeared.

Only the two of you existing.

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

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

Wanting to feel each other all the time.

Before everything ends.

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

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

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

“Tae…”

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

Love, desperation, hunger.

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

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

It felt familiar.

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

The taste of him, flooding your senses.

You melting into him.

Your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt.

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

Still, it makes your head spin.

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

You gasp into his mouth, body arching towards him.

The dance forgotten.

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

Once again.

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

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

He pulls back enough to look at you.

“I need you. Right fucking now.”

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

“Yea…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always taking his time exploring.

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

You tremble, lips parting on a shaky breath.

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

Supplying both of them with his attention.

Your back arching off the wall.

“Oohh, Tae,”

His obsession with your breasts never ending.

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

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

So commanding.

So utterly devoted to you.

“I wanna taste you everywhere,” he groans.

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

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

“Taehyung…” you breathe, determined.

“Let me… Let me please you, please.”

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

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

His voice thickening with anticipation.

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

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

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

Your pussy clenching.

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

A low groan leaving Taehyung.

“Darling,” he exhales.

“Look at you, so eager for me.”

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

Not pushing but guiding.

A gentle encouragement.

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

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

His grip on your hair tightening.

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

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

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

“That’s it,” he growls.

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

You whine against him, sound muffling.

“Fuck, keep doing that”

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

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

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

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

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

Taking what he wants from you.

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

Voice filled with awe and desperation.

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

The way he fills you so completely.

Taking over you.

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth working faster.

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

The taste overwhelming.

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

Licking the excess fluid off his cock.

Cleaning every single drop.

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

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

“You’re incredible,” he breathes.

“I don’t deserve you”

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

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

“I need to be inside you,” he growls.

“now”

His cock hardening again, or maybe it never softened.

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

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

Knowing time was running out.

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

“Gahhh, shit! Taehyung!”

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

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

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

“so damn good”

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

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

Trusting him with everything.

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

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

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

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

All your loud moans and whimpers swallowed by his mouth.

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

Your noises encouraging him further, fucking you stupid against the wall.

“You’re mine,”

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

Harder and faster.

“Say it, baby. Tell me you're mine.”

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

A need for reassurance, making your heart ache.

He was overthinking.

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

“Always, always only yours”

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

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

“Come on,” he commands.

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

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

“Ah, oh, fuck, fuck—”

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

“Gosh, Taehyung!”

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

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

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

“Damn it,” he pants.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna miss you every day.”

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

“I love you, Tae,” you whimper

“I promise.”

The weight of tomorrow presses, heavily.

But for now.

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

Love the only thing existing.

۶ৎ

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

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

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

The clock ticking on the nightstand.

A devastation.

Counting down the hours until Taehyung was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never getting enough of you.

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

Wanting him for the last time before morning arrives.

And everything ends.

“Mhnmm,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

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

Always craving more.

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

“Hnn tae,” you mewled.

“Take me, please…”

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

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

That has you both moaning.

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

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

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

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

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

Turning you on further.

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

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

“Tae… baby, please, I need you.”

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

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

“Hahh, gosh!” You moan.

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

“Yes, yes, yes, oh.”

You chant.

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

“That’s it, love”

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

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

“let everyone know how much you love my fingers in your tight little pussy… how they greedily suck me in”

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

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

Making sure the marks last you for weeks.

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

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

You struggle to speak between your moans, voice breaking.

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

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

Shame and shyness at the back of your mind.

Nothing makes sense to you anymore.

All you wanted was him and the connection.

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

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

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

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

Burying himself with a fast, brutal thrust.

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

He grunts, beginning to move at a fast pace.

Pounding you or ruining you.

You couldn’t understand.

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

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

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

“Fucking answer me, slut!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t run, baby…”

Gripping your wrists tighter, pinning you in place.

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” he signs.

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

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

“I love you, Tae,”

“always—gahh hahhh—”

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

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

You cannot take it.

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

His own voice strained.

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

“Tae! mmphhh, nooo.”

Your pussy pulsing and clenching on him and his hips falter.

He doesn’t stop.

Doesn’t give you a moment to recover.

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

“On your knees,” he barks.

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

All this will soon be over in a few hours.

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

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

“Goddamnit!” He growls.

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

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

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

Wanting him.

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

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

“Ahh, Tae, too much—too—”

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

Almost tearing the fabric in the process.

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

Coated with your arousal.

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

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

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

Your throat aching from the constant noises.

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

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

“Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung”

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

“I’m gonna, ahhah, come again.”

He grunts, thrusts growing erratic, control leaving him.

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

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

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

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

A pain you welcomed.

“Fuck” he pants.

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

“You’re everything”

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

But he’s not done.

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

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

“I need more,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

Your body jerking.

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

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

Your mouth parting, drool spilling onto the sheets.

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

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

“I’m so angry I have to leave you.”

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

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

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

Home.

A word that he knew was only associated with you.

Home was where you are.

“always... my precious girl.”

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

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

Hating the universe for separating you both

۶ৎ

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

He takes you on your side, one leg hooked over his shoulder, cock hitting deeper than you thought was possible.

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

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

By dawn, you both were spent.

The room heavy with the scent of sex.

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

۶ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

A wound that is threatening to break you completely.

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

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

He didn’t want to let you go.

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

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

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

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

Just an hour ago.

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

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

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

A sight you will lose for long months.

You placed a soft kiss on his chest, just below his nipple, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. The cockwarming felt more than physical—a refusal to let go even in sleep.

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

Your breath hitched, a moan escaping.

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

But a deep, aching connection

A need to hold onto him in every possible way.

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

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

As if you can keep him here.

Make him stay.

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

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

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

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

The thought settling over him like dread.

“Morning, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

His voice raspy and deep from sleep.

You knew he was trying to lighten your mood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“tae” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

He hates being the reason for your tears.

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

“Fuck this,” he spits out.

“I don’t want to go, baby. I can't—”

He swallows hard, brows furrowing in pain.

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

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

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

His tenderness making you cry harder.

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

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

His eyes soften, but the anger still there.

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

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

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

“You’re my only girl.”

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

So needed.

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

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

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

You feel him twitching inside you.

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

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

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

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

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

Too heartbreaking.

“I promise,” you tremble.

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

“And sleep well,” he continues.

Voice almost pleading.

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

You lean into his touch, tears soaking his skin.

“I’ll try,” you whimper.

“For you, I’ll try.”

He exhales shakily, pecking your lips.

“I love you.”

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

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

Leaving you hollow.

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

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

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

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

A shield against the reality of his departure.

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

His skin still holding your marks.

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

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

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

Being forced to do this.

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

He looked like a soldier.

Strong and determined.

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

Shattering.

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

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

“You’re making it harder.”

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

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

“I need you to be strong for me”

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

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

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

His hands cupping your face, thumbs wiping away your tears when his own are spilling.

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

Last shared kiss.

One last time.

“I’ll write to you,” he says.

Once he pulls back, voice fierce and determined.

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you”

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

“always”

And then he’s gone.

Just like that.

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

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

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

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

But it's never enough.

It's not him.

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

Until he returns.

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

────

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

161 notes · View notes