#oc: taehyung park

[plumiechim]

Fuck the pain out [JJK] [m]

PAIRING: Jungkook x female reader

GENRE: Halloween party, smut, angst if you consider, pwp

WARNING: masked shit (ghostface), he is masked, unprotected sex, oc is js sad, he likes her, blowjob, lil fluff talk and blah blah

SUMMARY: Maybe ghostface will fuck your sadness away tonight.

W.C: 1.3k

A/N : Halloween and yet no man masked as ghostface to fuck me so why not write about it. Enjoy!

I was so broken by that point I didn't even give a fuck who the man kissing my neck was. He told me he'll make me feel good, treat me good tonight, maybe help me forget that I'm a fucking shattered piece of soul.

I can't even tell how he looks because his face is concealed by an intimidating mask. "I'm ghostface." was how he'd introduced himself to me while I was alone by myself smoking a joint at this halloween party my friends brought me to.

Having to see a person you've always loved deep down in your heart for years with another girl feels like shit even though I know I have no right to feel that way.

We're in the dark, now that his mask is off, I can't really see his face but I can feel the jewel on his lip momentarily graze my neck-

Wait.

I know who that jewel belongs to.

My eyes shoot open and my hands slide to his shoulders. I croaked, "Are you sure you wanna-." His lips shut me off before I speak any further.

A soft whimper leaves my mouth as his lips delve deeper into my mouth, "So broken, so needy." His lips graze against mine. "It's okay baby, I'll make you forget him tonight."

The way he assured me, gosh. I softly slipped my hands cupping the girth of his neck, I could feel him looking at me. I took my lips down his jaw as I slipped my palm to the back of his head and trailed kisses up to the corner of his lips.

"Kiss me." His whispers were all that I needed to press my lips against his. His hand roughly grabbed me by my neck as he hungrily devoured my lips.

His passionate kiss kept me busy as he slowly lowered us onto the mattress, him nestled between my legs as he trailed kisses from my lips to my chin, my jaw down to my cleavage.

"You need someone to worship you." His murmur tickles my skin and I suck in a sharp breath. "Understand you." A stinging sensation of his teeth slightly nipping on my skin, yet I love it. "Validate you." He continues his abuse on my skin. "Love you." Maybe its the joint that's heightening my senses and making me extremely sensitive to everything I was feeling. I wanted him. Bad. "You need commitment." He tugs onto my pants.

Oh my.

I push him off of me as he stands at the edge of the bed. Even though I can't really see I can sense him. I can sense him looking at me. A little surprised, confused at the same time. I can feel his chest raising and falling rhythmically with his loud erratic breaths.

I undid the buttons of his shirt one by one ascending, while his fingers tangled and played with my hair.

It was as if he was sculpted, body so perfect, muscles in right places. My tongue brushed over his abs leaving wet kisses as I went lower and tugged on the band of his Calvin Kleins.

As I pulled down his boxers, I could feel him tightening his grip on my locks. I get off the bed down on my knees as I spit on his cock and sensually lick the tip then proceed to slowly put him in my mouth.

His tatted arm fists my hair. His girth barely fitting into my mouth, but I still make an attempt to bob my head. His moans were so pretty, so hot, made me wanna go deeper and harder. The vibrations of his vocalization revert to the back of my throat.

I'm loving the fact that I'm making him feel good. I slowly get used to his girth and start working my mouth on him in all the ways I can. The way he's tugging on my hair kinda stings but that is something I can easily overlook.

"Fuck, you're so good." I can feel my own arousal spasming through my insides as i can feel him twitching in my mouth. "I'm not gonna last much." He moans as he pulls out of my mouth and grabs my hair, not by extreme but strong enough to yank me to the bed. He crawls, spreading my legs open and resting between my thighs.

I let out a small whimper as my back meets the surface of the mattress. He wastes' no time in ripping me off of my clothes and throwing them across the room. "I'm not going soft on you." He whispers as his thumb plays with my lower lip. I gently wrap my lips around his finger and flick it out. "I don't want that either." I breathe out.

"Baby, I wanna fuck you mad. Like an animal."

"You better do."

I physically jerk at the feeling of his fingers grazing my glistening cunt. I bite my lips as he slides his hand up my folds and slowly inserts his finger in me.

He goes slow at first but then shows no mercy, plunging his fingers in and out of me. His lips press against mine as he swallows my moans.

"I want you. Please." I breathe out and that's all he needed to pull his fingers out of me and reach out for the piece of latex.

I stop him. "I want you raw in me."

"If you do that then I can't fucking pull out-"

"I want you to not." I cut him off and I can see his silhouette, his neck cranking sideways putting on the mask he possessed, and I feel his girth in me and his tatted arm presses me down to the pillow by my neck.

"Baby you feel so good." He reaches down to kiss my thigh from under the mask as he starts with his thrusts.

Divine is what I would like to call this feeling. He felt so good I couldn't help but let out obscene noises. He felt divine. His moans, his breath, his thrusts, him inside me. It was all so hot.

My back arched as his thrusts got insanely deep and hard. His grip on my neck tightens and I feel our arousal dripping down my thighs.

"Mine." he grunts. "You're mine."

This was unusual for me. Cumming so fast like this. But I could already feel the tightening sensation and I can no longer assure that I am sane. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I take full pleasure of the feeling of him inside me, shaking vigorously underneath him syncing with his animalistic thrusts. As he leans down, I lift his mask a little to let him peck my neck. I can see veins popping on his neck, from the illumination from the window. His face and neck flushed pink.

"Baby you gonna cum?" I nod. He slows down. I whimper. "I need words, love." He smirks on my skin. "I'm gonna cum." I blurt out, my hips desperately trying to create some sort of stimulation.

But my pathetic attempt fails as he grabs my hips, restoring his thrusts. And I no longer am able to hold it in me. I unfold shaking under him, clenching hard. "Yeah baby, come all over my cock." He coos, his thrusts again going gentle.

But that was short lasted as he started chasing his own orgasm. Overstimulating but I loved the way he was desperately snapping his hips against mine. "Fuck if you clench on me like this- fuck." and with the hottest moan, he cums in me. His mask now off of him, hot sweaty body pressed against mine, his wet strands tickling my breasts. and his lips on my skin.

He takes a few minutes to regain his breath. "So you staying for the night or not." He says as he turns on the dim lamp from the nightstand.

His expression soon turns into a slight disappointment seeing the uncertainty in my face.

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! (OUT NOW) || jjk.

SERIES MASTERLIST

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader

❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+

❥description: How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! A guide of what you shouldn't do in the first 30 days of a relationship if you don't want him running for the hills! You get to see my experiment with the things I did wrong in the first 30 days of a brand new relationship.

You have just received your first opportunity to write your own column at Composure Magazine. This is everything that you have ever dreamed of and should be simple enough, drive a guy away in 30 days. Across town Jungkook, who hasn't committed to anyone in years, is issued a bet that he can stay with the same person for one month. Both of you being so head strong to achieve your goals cause a myriad of hilariously disastrous dates, unexpected sparks, and a countdown that neither is ready for. 30 days to fall in love or fall apart. After all, all is fair in love and war.

❥warnings: set in the universe of How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days, comedy, sort of a crack fic???, drinking, swearing, dirty talk, eventual smut, some angst, Y/N is a love girl (sigh), Jungkook used to be a playboy (heavier sigh), fluff, Y/N basically torturing Jungkook, Jungkook will never surrender lmao, I watched the movie recently and I haven't been able to get this idea out of my head (like seriously I plotted out the entire fic in like three hours), you don't have to have seen the movie to get this fic.

❥disclaimer: Might be a bit before I start this fic, I want to get Wounds We Never Show a little further along before I decide to juggle two Jungkook fics (sigh). (Also sort of want to get an interest check on this fic hehe)

CHAPTER ONE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

[itssunshinetoday]

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, Jungkook

More of the boyfriend pictures series

[livingformintyoongi]

Get to know the life of the members of Bring On The Night! The pop/rock band of the moment that has a whole generation addicted to their music, lyrics and performers.

| Kim Seokjin: The Bassist

You were Jin's childhood friend, the one who always went to all his bass practices, the one who went to all his mini concerts, the one who tested the songs before he played them live, you were even the first person he ran to tell the news that his band had been dominated to his first award.

The problem with this? You were always just that to Jin, the typical childhood friend he wouldn't give up for anything in the world, but would never see as anything more.

A few months ago Jin started dating yet another girl, a certain Yeji, whom he had met in college.

You were starting to feel how awful it was to be just another friend, and you wanted to give it your last try before giving up forever with Jin and moving on with your life.

| Min Yoongi: The Producer

You had been in a fully sexual relationship with Yoongi for over 5 years. Yes, you went out on the occasional date in secret, but nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would make the public think you were a couple, or sex partners.

You had never had a problem with this, until little by little you noticed how you started to feel things for him that definitely had nothing to do with your fully sexual relationship, so you did what you did best.

You ran away.

-> Drabble 1 [Request]: How did they meet?

| Jung Hoseok: The Composer

You met Hoseok in a dance class you had during your last years in college. The two of you hit it off perfectly and decided to stay in touch.

You talked to him when he won his first award, he talked to you when he heard you got a permanent contract at your current company. You called him when you found out he had landed a fairly well known girlfriend in the middle, he congratulated you on finding your fiancé.

Now, 2 years after that, you had no idea how to tell him that your husband and his fiancée were fucking in your bed.

| Kim Namjoon: The Drummer

You were Bring On The Night's manager since their debut. You had taken good care of them, always tried to give them a reasonable schedule, always talked to interviewers before interviews, always tried to keep them safe without asking for anything in return. That's exactly what made Namjoon fall at your feet.

From the beginning he always had eyes for you, he always drowned in his feelings thinking about how annoying it might be for you to stay on the job knowing that he had feelings for you.

However, this same attitude not only attracted to him, but to other guys who worked in the same industry. It was this very thing that made Namjoon decide to fight for you, even if it would destroy your working relationship and friendship.

| Park Jimin: The Keyboardist

You were Jimin's girlfriend during his pre-debut era. You would go to support him at practice, bring him food, water, sometimes even a change of clothes. You loved the way he loved his job, but love wasn't always enough to overcome the adversities that made life as a star. That was made clear to you by the Ceo of Bring on the night's discography.

You broke up with him shortly after his debut, you didn't give him any explanation, you simply told him that you didn't want to be with him anymore and you left.

Years later, in the present day, Jimin had become a world star, famous for his talent on the keyboard, and you, for your part, had achieved your goal of becoming a critically acclaimed actress.

What you never thought was that, as you were both on the same level, you would inevitably meet at events such as awards shows, and, to be honest, you didn't think you could ever say no to Jimin again.

| Kim Taehyung: The Guitarist

For the first time in your entire career as an artist you had gotten into a scandal, and one of the worst scandals there could have been. A rapper whose name you didn't even know had told hundreds of gossip channels that the two of you were in a solely sexual relationship.

Now, with no excuse to give because no one would believe you without proof, you and your manager decided to make a completely risky bet; talk to Kim Taehyung, the guitarist of BOTN and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. To your surprise, he didn't hesitate to accept.

The deal was clear: neither would have feelings for the other, neither would meddle in the other's relationships, and neither owed the other any explanations.

At first you thought it would be simple, just another performance, just like you did for your music videos.

How wrong you were.

| Jeon Jungkook: The Vocalist

Jungkook considered himself a very tolerant person. He tolerated Jin with his horrible jokes, he tolerated Namjoon breaking his stuff by accident from time to time, he even tolerated Jimin stealing his stuff, but there was one specific point where he would never tolerate any bullshit.

That point was you.

The day he found out the idiot you were dating, he almost broke his phone from how hard he smashed it against the wall. He believed you deserved better, no, he knew you deserved better, no doubt about it, and he was more than willing to show you what would be the minimum point you should accept in a man.

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. I. | kth ft. pjm

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, angst — the sad kind

word count: 4.8k

summary: you've prepared a fun day for your boyfriend's military vacation. thank god he's here, right?

pin: f. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: suggestive but not described themes of sex and alcohol consumption.

note: i'm so EXCITED to bring you this fic that i can't wait until tomorrow to post this. everyone welcome TAEHYUNG and JIMIN to the hoseoksluna universe. i have to tell you a secret. taehyung was my first bias when i first became army. taehyungie was the first one to save me from the bunch—literally to resurrect me because in him i found all the things i used to love and fell out of. jazz, poetry, the aesthetics and arts. it is an honor to write about him and i think i will write another taehyung fic next week. if you have any ideas, drop them in my ask box and i will use them for inspiration. this fic is dedicated to my baby ruru @tkslovechild, my tatlim @jjk7k, and the beautiful anon that asked me for a tae fic while i was already working on this one. i love you all so much. enjoy this beautiful piece. <3 mwah.

��� ౨ৎ .

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everday jug, like my mother's face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm.

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone by Rainer Maria Rilke

It was your love language, to dress up like your boyfriend. 

Dress pants, shirts and jackets. Linen, silk, leather. Pointed heels or oxford shoes. Grays, browns, beiges and whites. It was something that made you happy—and it was something that represented a vessel, made of unbreakable porcelain, for your love that you carried for Taehyung. 

He’s sitting in the corner of your bedroom, on a wooden stool he specifically placed at such a picturesque place. With the ivory curtains drifting along the nape of his neck, sheer enough to expose the small vase of tulips that stoop in a private longing for his touch. He fondles them often to preoccupy his mind when you take your usual long showers and he waits for the fashion shows you give him. He’s the one who says yes or no. These shoes, love. Look, they’re just like mine. And right at this moment, the wine-yellow petals are caught between his slender fingers when you come out and he doesn’t let go of them—because you’re not holding up the outfit for the day as you always are. 

For the fun day as you’ve called it. 

You’re dressed in it. Low-waisted gray dress pants with a little, tight, white shirt. Black stilettos, black shoulder purse. Your trench coat is waiting for you in the hall, hung up and lonely, but other than that you’re matching him fully. It feels as though you’re fading into him, becoming a singular being that has his DNA and his beauty, and when he beams up at you, boxy smile on full show, spine straight and tall on the stool, long fingers gripping its rim, Taehyung, with his gray suit and a white shirt, somehow validates that feeling. 

Somehow, in that peculiar Taehyung way of his. 

He extends his hands towards you, asking for your closeness. There’s a mist of murkiness that envelops him, with the saddened clouds beyond the window, standing in the place of the sun. It moves through you, this image of him reaching for you in this landscape, and you think he deserves to be painted like this. With black charcoal and a little bit of soft carmine to eternalize the blush of his cheeks—the only trace of color in the sketchbook. Your hands don’t know the art of drawing, but your heart does and while you take those necessary steps towards him, you feel the scratches of that dark pencil over that grainy flesh. 

His palms find your curves and you consider it unbelievable, the fact he’s still so big, despite the size of the stool and the height of your heels. No matter how much taller you grow, he’ll always be that tower that protects you from the blazing heat of the sun. 

He’s the epitome of autumn. No longer a boy, but a man, whose lungs are perfumed by apples, leaves, cinnamon, pumpkin spice and the slight iciness of the seasonal wind. Whose eyes witnessed the growth of your form since you were a little girl with two long braids. 

Childhood best friends turned to lovers, favored by the hanging, twinkling stars. 

You always saw him the most in autumn. Chasing you down during festivities that your mom couldn’t not be a part of, grabbing a hold of one of your braided pigtails with his already long fingers, then tickling you until you gave up. Ever so easy to catch because of the length of your hair. You knew, even as a little girl, that he was not just a part of your life, but your life itself. More than a companion, more than a friend. You dreamed about having his babies and that dream would come to life through your imagination whenever he would chase you down, years later, in the grand halls of the east wing of his grandiose family home, where nobody ever comes, just to steal a kiss or two. It was the moment you realized that you were no longer kids, even though you acted as such, but that you desired little legs to follow you in the fun of it all. 

And that kiss changed every autumn from that year on.

Stolen glances, the blush of cheeks, quivering fingers that no longer grabbed your braids. Not until many autumns later. You gave him your everything, every bit of your newly-bloomed femininity, your dream of having his babies and he folded it into the vinyls of his favorite jazz music that he would play every night whenever he needed inspiration or whenever he simply needed you. 

Newly. Not just yet as adults and no longer as kids. Somewhere in between. 

And then the duties of adulthood came. The natural process of drifting apart settled between your bodies and you no longer played in the stage between. Taehyung, the saxophone-playing jazz singer, moving foreign bodies into his personal, heart-sung rhythm. Not yours, never yours for a long time. You, working a day job that never paid enough, not for the dresses you yearned to wear at those clubs he would play at. 

But what you didn’t know was that drifting apart meant coming together eventually. 

He might have become your Turnip Head, silent and distant, but you were Sophie—and you found him. You found him while looking for something, or someone for the lack of better words, and he helped you. Over a cup of coffee he didn’t drink, at a jazz bar you always wanted to come to. Your date was a hit and miss and the guy never came, and your Turnip Head didn’t help you find your Howl. 

He helped you find himself. And from that moment on, you never drifted apart again. 

Who would’ve thought that seeking a relationship that did not resemble your dream nor your childhood would make you find him all over again. 

In autumn, too. 

Taehyung paid for your dresses, your female suits, paid for your drinks. Kissed you underneath those dimmed, brown lights before he went off to play songs that moved your body at last. Dancing alone to his songs was your dream come true until he set down his saxophone and joined you. Let his band mates play his favorite Etta James song as he took your hand and drifted upon the dance floor with you. Those who danced before this song sat down, let you have this opportunity for yourself, and Taehyung kissed you, after a long time, after many autumns had passed, right then and there. 

And both of you realized that you could never drift apart again. You could only drift together. 

You moved in together. He bought you tulips of every possible hue every week. Played you his new songs for you on the saxophone. Took you to art galleries. Took you sightseeing, sometimes alone with you, sometimes with Jimin joining you. Shared your dream about having babies with you and talked about it all the time. Tried it out, seized it many times, though the outcome both of you desired never came. Had a beautiful life with you until…

Until he thinned out into his Turnip Head form and skipped away to fulfill his country duties. 

But he’s here. Oh, he’s here. Buff and big, apples, cinnamon and pumpkin spice. Brown eyes that carry the memory of your growth, hands that clutch your hips and that hold the silky memory of your still long braids. Hands that edge around your slightly, barely puffy tummy and that don’t know that you are with a concoction of a small him and you, a divine magical realism, a dream that came true without his knowledge right after the last hours of his military vacation were up and he had to go back to serve the country. 

The reason behind this fun day. 

The day of his second vacation, the day you tell him. 

“You look just like me,” he breathes, the width of his smile never lessening, hands skipping over the space between your hips and your arms and grabbing your hands. It gets to you still, the way his eyes never look up at you, the way they never have, and you feel so sweetly small. Even more so when Taehyung stands to his feet and slides his suit jacket over your shoulders. You become even smaller, a fawn taken care of. A pregnant fawn. “And now you are me.” 

Oh, he doesn’t know just how much. Not yet. 

He sits back down and gently pushes you to take a step back. On wavering feet, like that freshly-born fawn, you waver on your feet, but Taehyung keeps you stable, leaning forward to make sure you’ve caught your balance. A wisp of his dark hair falls over his eye that he, at last, flicks up at you. And the sensation from it, it is nothing that you ever felt before. 

It is a step forward. 

It’s something that tells you: go ahead. 

You planned to tell him at the jazz bar where he kissed you for the first time as an adult and made you his. But now, now it feels more than right, amidst this strange newness that you don’t think you’ll ever experience again. 

You open your mouth, brace yourself, but Taehyung is faster. Ringing fills your ears, the atmosphere around you feels gooey—as if you’re walking through a limbo. 

“Jimin will meet us at the park.” 

Oh, yes. Walk in the park, a warm drink to go, then the jazz bar. Jimin is having his military break as well, about to sing in Taehyung’s honor, you already knew this, knew he would join you, but being in the presence of your boyfriend, the detail slipped out. 

The newness leaves. Taehyung straightens. Towers over you. The normalcy flattens over the chemistry between you and him, the atmosphere lessening to feathery lightness and when you move your arms to give back his jacket, your arms feel as though they’re not your own. 

Your smile falls. 

Jazz bar it is. 

“We should go,” you prompt, turning around, having all the balance in the world as you go fetch your purse and reapply your red lipstick. 

Taehyung watches you in the mirror, his boxy grin on eternal display, warming your heart. You think about how you can’t wait until his baby witnesses that smile for the first time—and wonder if God is molding, at this very hour, the same one upon their little face. It brings tears to your eyes, ones that you quickly blink away, and instead you focus on lining your lips with the tip of the lipstick with utmost precision. 

In your vast collection of lip liners, you don’t have a red one. Truth be told, you always feared this vibrant color. It represented a stigma you never liked—that only promiscuous women wear that color, but to you it was never that. 

It was a color that meant you lose your girlhood, your childhood upon wearing. 

And now, it is a color that announces the next era of your life: adulthood, but different, painted with motherly instincts that are of these vibrant hues. Womanhood. No longer fearful, but brave. 

Right. 

You want your baby to connect this color to you and know that you made it. You waited your whole life for their father and gave it to him in one of the autumns as a child. Without knowing, without realizing. 

That color is a legacy. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyung kisses the back of your head, halting your motions. Wraps his arms around you as he props his chin on the place he kissed—and right here, right now, you’re looking at a family portrait in the mirror. 

A living, breathing one. With lifting chests in tandem, growing smiles and a growing baby in your womb. 

Magical realism in full effect. 

And then Taehyung is off to fetch your trench coat, holding it up for your arms to slip inside its sleeves. Grabs your hand and revels in the autumn weather outside, boxy smile never faltering. Sings in the car on the way to the park, makes eye contact as he mouths the lyrics—kiss me once and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again, it’s been a long, long time—because he could never sing over that part. It’s too precious to his heart for him to do so. 

The wind accompanies you and grabs your other hand as you walk down the pathway lined with half-barren trees and a still pond. Taehyung hums the Bing Crosby song that seems to be playing on loop within his mind and it is the only greenery that spreads around through his husky voice. All else—the pond, the trees and the last of their leaves that dance around you, the shrubberies and the clouds up above—are smeared with sullen blues and grays, to which Taehyung is everlastingly immune. 

Jimin is standing by an antique coffee stand, dressed to the nines in an outfit he most definitely must be cold in. Black dress pants with a jacket that stuns you. A matching Hussar one, with golden braiding. A military piece of clothing from another time. You think it suits the fun day quite delightfully, but not as much as it suits him. The golden detail goes hand in hand with his golden hair and you think he needs his picture taken. 

“Jimin!” you call out, making his confused little face turn in your direction, and he swivels his body to face you altogether. He holds two cups of coffee in both of his hands, one for him and one for you. You melt at that and look up at Taehyung to see his boxy smile ever so frozen and beautiful, pointed at his best friend. 

When you reach him, he hugs you. His cold skin stings you and you quickly warm him up with rubbing motions against his back. Scrunch your brows in puzzlement when he doesn’t hug Taehyung nor even look at him. 

But all is swept away when Jimin exclaims in discomfort and takes a rapid sip of his boiling drink. 

“Jimin, where’s your coat?” you ask him in pity, watching him shake and moan in pain once he burns his tongue. He uses the cup to warm up both of his hands. 

“I didn’t think Paris would be so cold in October,” he explains in a hushed, livid tone, drawing the rim of the paper cup back to his lips as if he didn’t learn his lesson. Typical Jimin. “But this outfit is for Taehyung anyways, so I’ll survive.” 

He talks of him but he doesn’t look at him. Makes heart eyes at the misting coffee, instead. Like Taehyung isn’t here at all. 

Strange. 

You shake off the thought. 

“Go stand by the pond before you freeze. I want to take a picture of you,” you say, softly, pulling your phone out of your purse. Glancing up, you expect Jimin to be ready with his pose, but he’s looking at you as if you said the most outrageous thing in the world. Eyes wide, mouth downturned in horror. You laugh and place a hand on his arm. “Go, Jimin. This is a special day and special days ask for special pictures.” 

Jimin sighs and nods, despite the fact he doesn’t really look like he wants to do it. 

“Fine, but I’m keeping the coffee in my hand.” 

Your tender laughter prolongs. “Fair enough. Go pose with your little heat pack.” 

Gazing out at the pond, Taehyung is already standing there. With his brown coat over his gray suit, he coalesces with the autumnal scenery and you think he belongs there. That a statue should be made of him right where his feet are planted, for people to remember and appreciate his beauty. You snap a few pictures of him before Jimin makes his way towards the stone bannister and stops right in front of Taehyung, who towers over him. Jimin lifts his cup and smiles a little tight smile, the mist from his coffee eclipsing over him like a soft fog. Switching to portrait mode, Taehyung is gone by the time your screen clears out and shows Jimin by his lonesome self, setting his coffee cup down on the bannister and turning around for some dramatic, aesthetic shots. Taehyung laughs in your ear, catches your slipping purse and places it back on your shoulder, and what he says next gives your life a whole new meaning. 

“Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.”

You pivot back, piercing your sight right through him, not believing those words were just flung out of him like that. Taehyung never mentioned you having a protector while being in the military and even the whole concept of it confuses you even deeper as Jimin is serving as well. He might not be in the special forces like your boyfriend is, but he’s serving nonetheless. The systems are the same, no matter the department. 

Before you can ask him what he meant by that, the sing-song tone of Jimin’s voice reaches you. He calls out your name with a bit of alarm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gaze back and meet his eyes in full motion—he’s already taking long steps towards you and grabbing your arm, taking your confusion to another level.  

“What happened?” he asks, his pupils thin dots that ripple through your skin with stiff, panicky electroshocks. You glance back at Taehyung to discover that he’s not standing behind you at all, but behind Jimin, clutching his shoulder. 

You blink. “Nothing.” 

Jimin lets go of your arm and inhales the autumnal air. The pond, suddenly, heaves. 

“Let’s go somewhere warm,” Jimin suggests and you agree with him with a nod of your head. Pinpricks of iciness kisses your fingertips, despite the fact you’re still holding your own cup of coffee that Jimin bought you. 

A strange feeling seizes you. 

The jazz bar is an embrace of snug heat that embraces your womb first before greeting the rest of your body. You can’t help but to touch your baby, say to her in your heart: this is your Daddy’s most favorite place in the whole wide world. And the feeling is so surreal that it washes away the strange sensation that clung to you so heavily. 

You’re the first customers to come. Jimin sighs in absolute relief and he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen in time, as he lets the warmth of the place defrost his bones. Your cup of coffee was long finished and discharged; Jimin’s drank his in long sips that took seconds to finish, too, and the whole ordeal was so funny to you that it’s given you a sense of lightness that you needed. 

Taehyung hasn’t spoken a word since you left your apartment. 

He sits at the bar stool like he sat in your shared bedroom. One leg propped on the footrest while the other is relaxed on the floor, one hand folded on the apex of his thigh, the other drumming on the bar while the band he doesn’t know is rehearsing their instruments. You take a seat right beside him and feel like the parents you’re about to become. Sophisticated, classical, sublime. 

The pretentious kind, but in a good way. 

That thought makes you smile softly until the bartender asks you if you’d like anything. You politely decline her, even though you’d love a glass of wine with the daddy to be beside you. You can’t drink, not for many months to come. You wait for her to ask Taehyung the same question, but she doesn’t even lift her eyes to his direction. She wipes down the wood of the bar and leaps away. 

Nobody fucking asks Taehyung anything. 

Amidst a hearty guitar strumming solo, Jimin notices the furrow of your brows, the downturned pout of your mouth that opens to ask Taehyung about the strangeness that keeps occurring today. But before you get the words out, Jimin calls out your name into the microphone, the vowels made sweet by the sound of his princely voice. He stands with the band behind his back, his Hussar jacket exquisitely fitting the dimmed background. He holds out his hand for you, a poignant glint perched on top of his irises, and he flattens his puffy, pink lips. 

“Don’t be sad. Tonight is for Taehyung and all sadness is prohibited,” he says with his feigned announcer articulations, the corners of his mouth rounding in a similar manner to yours, in sympathy. “We will have to kindly ask you to leave if you proceed in your sadness. Please, join me here.” 

You roll your eyes, but the smile gracing your features couldn’t be erased even with the force of the whole wide world. You stand to your feet and paddle your way to him, the heels of your stilettos clicking on the worn parquets. Jimin gives you a soft grin and places his microphone down, meeting you halfway on the dance floor and taking your hand. 

It is when he begins to sing, just for you, that you perceive that the instrumental song the guitarist played is one, which is contained in one of Taehyung’s vinyls. The ones he would play in the darkest of nights and sing the lyrics to your bare body. Tears prick your waterline when Jimin guides you into a gentle slow dance while maintaining the tones of the song with utmost perfection. 

And Taehyung is carried in every languid motion and in every vocal cord that is strained upon this hour in his honor. 

I’m in the mood for love, simply because you’re near me…

You gaze back at Taehyung, who sits still and smiles his boxy smile. Frozen and beautiful, but unbreathing. 

Still and unbreathing. 

Frozen. 

You halt your movements. 

Jimin stops the dance, ends the song with a deep hum that pulses through you along with the notion that something isn’t right, but very, very wrong. 

“I wish Taehyung were here,” Jimin says with a deep sigh, holding both of your hands, and an uncanny, perplexing feeling constricts your throat. 

Your breath shivers, vision blurry. “But he is here.” 

Jimin lets go of your hands and you lament his touch. You need to be touched because you feel yourself shrinking into a fawn most vulnerable that doesn’t know what’s real anymore. A fawn just born, pathetically ignorant of the world and of her loved ones.

“I know, but I wish he were here for real.” 

A cold sweat drips down your spine, paralyzing you. Your constricted throat dries up like a well and you can’t swallow. You can’t think, you can’t blink—your lungs can’t lift to inhale any air and they mirror Taehyung’s still ones, unbreathing. 

It is a surprise to you, the question that flows out of you. 

“Jimin, who is sitting at the bar?” 

A wrinkle forms between his brows as he sweeps his gaze over all those bar stools and doesn’t linger at the occupied space that you know is there. A perturbing energy thuds in his eyes once he returns them to yours, and that alarming potency in him rises once again. 

“Who do you see there?” he asks, carefully, leaving his mouth parted as he anticipates your answer. 

You peer back behind you and don’t find any bar stools occupied. Not single one. 

No Taehyung, smiling his boxy smile. 

No Taehyung behind Jimin. 

No Taehyung behind you. 

A sob rumbles out of you in unison with your realization that you were, indeed, very wrong. You catch your sob, covering your mouth with your fingers as your tears spurt down onto your cheeks. 

And then the memories arrive, the reality.

But Jimin ceases their flow with the warmth of his even more careful question. 

“Did you see him at the park, too?” 

You can only nod, but you can’t look at him. You stare at nothing in particular and it seems that what Jimin has ceased, he allows to stream through the pond of your thoughts, accompanied by his vocalized truth. 

“Taehyung isn’t here. He should’ve been here with us, but he had to go to North Korea. There was a conflict, remember? You know this.” 

Taehyung’s apologetic text message appears before your eyes. The letter that came first before his phone call, where he explained to you that he can’t have his vacation and visit you because he has to go and save his country. The real, known reason between the pair of you and Jimin behind this fun day. To honor Taehyung for what he’s doing. The day you wanted to share, as well, that you were pregnant. 

The aloneness has gotten to you, helped by your blessed state. Confused your mind to the point that you imagined him here when he’s not here at all. 

Jimin calls your name and you glance at him. Perhaps he can see the truth dawning on you by the way pity twists his features. He caresses your arm and leaves his hand there, his heat locking in the realization. 

“What has happened to you?” 

Another onrush of tears clouds your vision. Your spine bends. And you can’t. 

You can’t not tell him. You can’t keep it in. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen and it merely takes him a second to envelop you in his embrace. He coos your name, rubs your back, a whimper resonates in his chest against yours as he holds back his tears. The music falls into nothingness—and nothing is said for a time that appears to be as long as the season of autumn. 

And then, somehow, you’re outside of the jazz club, sitting on Jimin’s Hussar jacket that he put down on the cold ground for you beside him. And the silence continues until it doesn’t. 

“Does he know?” he asks, and you feel his irises gliding across the side of your face that you cannot turn. 

It’s you who’s frozen this time. 

Still and unbreathing. 

With no smiling Taehyung at your hip. 

“I wanted to tell him tonight,” you say, quietly, with your hands helplessly in your lap. “On the day of his vacation that he looked forward to.” 

Jimin sighs, the sound full of that terrible pity. “How far along are you?” 

It’s a question that brings life to your numb hands and you take them to your belly. 

“Three months.” 

A beat of silence. 

You fondle your growing baby. Jimin seems to be watching you, considering his following words, but you fear to move your eyes. Lift them in expectation to see Taehyung only to meet the half-barren trees and the leaves on the ground that have absurdly regained their vivid colors. 

Lift them to look at Jimin and meet the outcome of your autumn-long aloneness. 

“He’ll be back in a month and I’ll talk to the Sergeant and offer my own vacation. I’ll give it up so you can see him and tell him.” 

A sob lodges itself in your throat and you tilt to the side, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder. He, in response, leans his against yours. 

“I don’t think your Sergeant will even hear you out,” you say, humorlessly, your personal pain still prickling the flesh of your heart. 

But then Taehyung’s words wash over you. 

Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone.

Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend, who’s been there for him through thick and thin, long before you came into the picture. Jimin, who stuck by your side when sightseeing, and took your pictures. Who devoured dinners with you and drank a whole bottle of liquor with you when Taehyung abstained. 

Jimin, your best friend, too. 

“Will you be here for me while he’s gone?” you ask, the sob in your throat enlarging, preventing you from speaking, but you push through. “So I won't get delusional again?” 

Jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it firmly in your lap, his thumb brushing over your little, half-swollen belly. 

“It’s the least I can do. Let’s get you home.” 

And he does. 

He calls a cab. Walks with you up the stairs, lingers at the door, watches you take off your heels—watches the comprehension of this day being anything but fun take form on your face and posture, and he hugs you. Reassures you that he will be here the whole week until his vacation is over, and even long after that. 

And you nod. Thank him. Turn your head away when he clicks the door shut behind him. Walk over to the window and stifle your tears when you see him head over to the liquor store in front of your apartment and leave with a bottle of spirits hanging from his fingertips. 

And the tears rush out, despite your efforts, when your gaze cascades down onto the windowsill and onto the vase, where white wine-doused tulips stooped in yearning for Taehyung’s touch a few hours ago. 

They aren’t stooping. They’re flaccid, dead and withered. Like the fun day you prepared.

Because Taehyung hasn’t bought any newly blooming tulips in a long while. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | read part two

[gard3nias]

Amor tam pulcher | KTH - masterlist

❁pairing: senior!taehyung x junior!oc

❁description: a love story revolving around a butterfly and its favourite flower

❁synopsis:

if he could, he'd write poems on how pretty she looked, on how perfect she was. He'd probably make the next Catullus or even better, he'd dare say. Everyone would love to read about her and how she makes him feel. He even wonders how she isn't loved, worshipped in fact, by everyone but he's glad he's the only one whom she hops to whenever class is dismissed, the only one to have her cheeks explore all possible shades of red, the only one whose arms she'd willingly fall asleep in between.

❁genre: romance, fluff, smut, angst

❁wc: 115k

❁date: 30/03/2024

❁warning: mature content, mdi

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

❁chapters (status - ongoing) ⇀ updates every two Saturdays, 10 AM CEST

latest — 19/10

❀ ❛prologue❜ - 1.52k

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

❀ 01 ❛love is all around❜ - 4.24k

On a chilly summer morning, a bouncy curly-haired sun rose up and shone above the flower ⇀ «If only you knew how special it feels to be special to someone...»

❀ 02 ❛ying yang❜ - 4.28k

Photosynthesis: the sun shines bright above the flower providing it with energy which will be transformed into nutrients ⇀ «Always thought my match would look like me but two pieces of the same puzzle can't be equal»

❀ 03 ❛the exploratory stage❜ - 5.48k

As the sun shines in its might, it brightens the way for a little flower to see over the horizon ⇀ «This is who I am now or maybe who I always was but forgot to be»

❀ 04 ❛just like old times❜ - 6.70k

The bright rays of the sun show the way to the flower, introducing it to an innocent little bear, a ferret and a little wasp ⇀ «He's pretty. No wait! Heavenly. Gorgeous. God's favourite for sure... and mine too»

❀ 05 ❛a monarch butterfly❜ - 4.17k

There, going back home, was an unusual combination of subjects: a cricket, a wing-man, a monarch butterfly, a little pika and a puppy ⇀ «They say mental exhaustion is greater than the physical one and yet I feel dead up there and no different when it comes to my body»

❀ 06 ❛venus❜ - 4.82k

Who could have ever thought that a flower could grow in space? Who? No one surely and yet... there it was, standing upright in its beauty ⇀ «Whenever she walked in, time would slow down and my pupils would expand, all for me to sip in her majestic beauty without missing anything»

❀ 07 ❛a laurel❜ - 4.92k

He knew he wasn't meant to fly to space because he physically couldn't but this thought wouldn't stop him. Was he being pretentious? Trying to exceed his limits? ⇀ «Like you a little, don't want no riddle. Say it, say it back, oh, say it ditto. Can't wait 'til the morning, so say it, ditto»

❀ 08 ❛fuck you!❜ - 6.10k

Normally, flowers are in people's gardens or on a bed of green grass so... what the hell is one singular one doing in the middle of the ocean. Does it know, does anyone know, that too much water will cause it harm... especially when the water is salty? ⇀ «I see her in the back of my mind all the time like a fever, like I'm burning alive»

❀ 09 ❛en route❜ - 5.07k

With its six tiny feet into proper boots, a good protective shield over his wings and an astronaut helmet on, the monarch butterfly embarks on a life-threatening journey, one believed to be a one-way ticket travel ⇀ «If only he knew... if only she knew...»

❀ 10 ❛who we are, what we do❜ - 6.01k

Flowers don't have eyes, yeah, and neither does a pika glow even during the day. The flower is used to seeing only the sun shine during the day. The little pika walking by is unusual. ⇀ «They say not to believe what you see online. "The beauty you could find there is so surreal that it can't be real", they say. But what happens when it's standing just a few feet away from you, glowing like the moon on a starless night? How do you withstand it?»

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

Cleopatra is the modern definition of the term "femme fatale"; she's known for rule in ancient Egypt but also for her relationship with Ceaser and Mark Antony ⇀ «Chiquitita, tell me the truth. I'm a shoulder you can cry on. Your best friend, I'm the one you must rely on»

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

A butterfly, a cricket and a wing-man all have wings somewhat. The first does fly, the second mostly leaps and the last doesn't fly unless the first two do. ⇀ «Life itself has nothing to give you. Lay in your bed all day and you'll get the point. Life starts making sense and having a shape when you start doing something, when you meet the right people»

❀ 13 ❛the Titanic❜ - 7.31k

Between the night of the 14th and the 15th, in 1912, one of the biggest ships of its time sank, going against the expectations but did it? At the time, there was a little competition between countries so when it sank it wasn't so surprising: something so big with very few resources would have never made it across the ocean. ⇀ «There's a monster in the water. It clawing into the ship. I'm sinking»

❀ 14 ❛from five to ten❜ - 11.44k

Brighten the mood. Increase the energy. Make a downturned flower rise high and flunt its beautiful petals for others to see. ⇀ «'Temptare', handle, try, test»

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

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

❀ 16 ❛«it's Daphne»❜ - 11.30k

A monarch butterfly sees a lot of flowers in its short span of life but never has this one, nor its ancestors, seen a flower as pretty as the one ahead. The flower was there, living beautifully in space. ⇀ «I'll be your piece, your ART»

❀ 17 ❛hesperiidae❜ - 6.41k

Right when the sun faded away and the dark clouds took over, the little butterfly's wings fluttered less as it lost hope until something caught his eye, a gleam slicing through the gloom and focusing on a flower. ⇀ «Who would have ever thought that something so little would warm me up so much? An it's just a smile at that»

❀ 18❛opposites attract❜ coming soon on the 16th

❀ 19 ❛peek-a-boo (boo boo)❜

❀ 20 ❛lifejacket❜

❀ 21 ❛monarch and blue morpho butterflies❜

❀ 22 ❛rosy cheeks❜

❀ 23 ❛caramel macchiato❜

❀ 24 ❛butterflies, flowers... and butterflies❜

❀ 25 ❛hwiparam❜

❀ 26

[evillemons]

Which BTS members are most likely to be the best at oral

This one is pretty self explanatory. Check out the masterlist for other fun content.

*NSFW CONTENT* (obviously)

1. SUGA - This should come as no surprise to anyone. He says so himself - his tongue will send you to Hong Kong, man or woman. Even though his mouth is tiny and delicate, he can move his tongue quickly and with excellent control. He would utilize her entire space and alternate his methods during the act, and would not shy away from her wetness.

2. RM - He really enjoys pleasing his woman, and would have no problem eating her out for a long period of time. He would be excellent at licking and fingering her simultaneously, easily finding her clit and g-spot. Would probably also moan a lot throughout it.

3. V - I see V being good at sex in general, and oral would be no exception. Like RM, he would be skilled at giving her stimulation in multiple areas at once. He might also be a little aggressive and over-enthusiastic when pleasing her and make her cum quickly (and maybe even squirt).

4. Jungkook - Probably has a very strong jaw and good stamina, and the perfectionist in him would make him eat her out persistently until she finishes. He would be good at it, I just feel he wouldn’t initiate oral often or enjoy it quite as much as the members above him, mostly because he's just too eager to fuck.

5. Jin - Doesn't go down on his girl too often, and is overall average. I think he would enjoy seeing the pleasure his girlfriend gets out of him eating her out, but he wouldn’t be particularly enthusiastic or skilled at it. I see him preferring to use his hands instead so he can still kiss her and keep his face close to hers.

6. j-hope - I don’t think he would necessarily be bad at oral, he just wouldn't initiate it or get much satisfaction out of it. He’s very energetic and wouldn’t have the patience to eat her out until she finishes. When he does go down on his girl, it would be fast-paced and sloppy.

7. Jimin - The daintiest and lightest when it comes to oral. Instead of burying his face in her like our top ranked members, he would mainly just use the tip of his tongue and kiss her lightly. And despite wanting to please her, he would get bored rather quickly.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door. "

Warning: (oh my Lord, where do I start? 🤭) Smut, smut, and smut! Slapping, dirty talk, sloppy oral sex, licking, nipple and chest worship, fluffy, name calling, asking for consent is sexy! 😋

A/N: Hi everyone! I said I would be back earlier than usual (please don't get used to it 🙏). Usually, my weeks are busy with work, but since I had to stay home, I managed to organize the story faster. Just heads up that there is smut, and yes, things happen quickly. I had already warned you 🤷‍♀️. It's not the first smut I've written, but it is the first one I'm posting. Am I a little embarrassed? Yes, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it and that it turns out great. Have fun 😈.

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Chapter 4

A deep, pleasurable sound escapes my throat as his mouth presses against mine. It feels like I’m finally taking a breath after holding it for far too long.

His tongue doesn’t wait for permission to invade my mouth; it slips in between my lips, entwining with mine, sucking and biting, dominating me in a dance that leaves no room for hesitation. A low growl escapes his throat as I tangle my fingers in his hair, reflecting on all the times he provoked me, fully aware of the effects he has on me.

My hands move instinctively, pulling him closer, fingertips grazing the hard planes of his abdomen until there’s no space left between us. His warm skin glides under my palm, and I dig my nails into his back. Contrary to what I expected, he doesn’t retreat or complain; instead, he bites my lower lip and his hands slide from my waist to my buttocks, squeezing me firmly, exploring every inch of my body. He delivers a sharp slap to my ass, the sound echoing in the room making my panties grow even wetter. Oh God, I’m going to hell.

His thigh presses between my legs, and before I can fully grasp his intentions, I pull away from his face to catch my breath. He grips my hip tightly, rocking me gently, sending waves of warmth to the pit of my stomach–a sensation so intoxicating that it consumes me entirely. Inadvertently, I start moving on my own, using the tips of my toes for balance and his shoulders for leverage. I’m so lost in the sensations, using his smooth skin and warmth for my own pleasure, that I’m blindsided when Jungkook suddenly lifts me onto his lap, never breaking the kiss.

I let out a small, surprised squeak as he lays me back onto the bed. The shock intensifies when the towel slips away, leaving us both breathless. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, and almost involuntarily, I avert my gaze to the ceiling. I hear his laughter beside the bed, and curiosity gets the better of me; I peek at him. His body is sculpted and strong, broad shoulders adorned with dark tattoos that only amplify his allure. I try to look away, but it’s nearly impossible.

My eyes wander to his erect member–large, its head the same color as his pink lips. The sight of his trimmed pubic hair stirs a mixture of desire and unease within me. My heart races, feeling as if it might burst from the intensity of it all. Jungkook doesn’t give me time to gather my thoughts; he crawls towards me on his knees, capturing my mouth with his once more.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks with a proud smile, slipping his hand under the cotton blouse I’m wearing. I gasp as his fingers trail over my stomach, teasing my navel. “Take off your shirt; I want to see you better.”

“Jungkook…” I moan weakly, feeling his tongue glide from my jaw to my collarbone. He uses his teeth and lips to suck on my skin, and my thoughts scatter, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Come on, take it off. I want to see you naked.”

“I... I don’t know. I’m nervous.”

“Will you let me do it for you?” he asks, his tone understanding, as if he senses the tension radiating from me but finds it enticing. I nod in silent agreement. He studies my expression for a moment, biting his lower lip, pushing back his damp hair.

His right hand returns to my waist, this time with a gentle touch, his fingertips gliding over my stomach as if I were made of glass. I swallow hard as he slowly begins to lift my blouse. My skin is exposed, and my breasts finally liberated, illuminated by the bright light of the room. Embarrassment floods me, and I instinctively cover my nipples with my arms. My breath quickens, and in the back of my mind, I picture my mother; a shiver of guilt running down my spine, twisting the moment into something fraught with apprehension, as if I’m committing the greatest mistake of my life and only just now realizing it. Jungkook notices my distress, his jaw tightening; he bites his lip again.

“Everything is okay, love.” he assures me softly, brushing his thumb over my hand.

I nod, inhaling deeply and closing my eyes. I think of everything and nothing all at once. I want this. Just for once, I long to embrace the madness that will make this moment unforgettable. I crave the fear and anticipation tingling down my spine, the very sensation coursing through me now. If I tell Jungkook to stop, I know he will. I sense his attentive gaze on me, the care and concern in his eyes. This realization boosts my confidence slightly, as I notice that though I am inexperienced, I have ignited the same desire in him; he is just as tense, just as full of longing as me. He may not be scared, but he is undeniably affected, all because of me. Feeling a bit bolder, I relax my arms against the bed, creating space for him to look at me more closely.

His fingertips, which had been resting on my waist, now explore my stomach, tracing an imaginary path to my full, sensitive breasts. I roll my eyes in pleasure, surprised as his mouth, slick and warm, finally envelops my engorged nipple, his tongue caressing in a way that drives me wild. A soft moan escapes my lips, and I instinctively lift my hips, seeking relief. Jungkook only smiles, pulling my nipples together with his hands, gazing at me like I’m the last meal of his life, emitting satisfied groans with each suck, reveling in my helplessness.

I writhe on the bed, gripping the thick fabric beneath me. It feels so good. So good that I want to cry. A little scream escapes me when he nibbles with his teeth, sending an electric thrill straight to my core. My body pulses, my entrance aching for more stimulation. I whimper, unsure of how to relieve the tension building inside me.

“You’re just so delicious,” he murmurs to himself, and if I weren’t so close, I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard it. “I can smell your sweet scent from here.”

I can’t respond, completely spread out on the bed, clinging to the sheets for dear life. I sigh and close my eyes, nodding in disbelief at my own eagerness, drenched and dripping. I can almost feel my desire trickling down my thighs, saturating my panties. He chuckles, teasing my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Can I take off your pants?” he asks, planting soft kisses along my neck. I nod again, but he only watches me, not moving. “I’ll only take them off if you ask nicely.”

“Jungkook… please,” I plead in a hoarse voice, desperation threading through my words. I just need him to touch me.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks, that devilish grin returning, as if he knows the turmoil he’s causing me and relishes in my struggle. I whimper, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but he remains still.

“Please, touch me.”

“I'm already touching you,” he teases, pushing some hair behind my ear. “Tell me where you want me to touch you, and I will.”

“I’m embarrassed,” I admit, covering my face with my hands in shame. I hear a soft chuckle from Jungkook. “Please, I just need you to touch me.”

“Do you want me to touch your pussy?” he asks bluntly. I gulp, my face heating and my heart racing. I nod, trembling in anticipation. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes… please.” His head nods in agreement, almost as if he finally feels pity for me and is about to grant my last wish.

His long fingers slide down to the waistband of my pants, pulling the fabric down slowly, as if savoring every second. My panties follow, leaving a trail of my excitement connecting the wet fabric to my core, so thoroughly soaked. I shiver at the cold air of the room. His gaze burns into me, observing my vulnerability without shame.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine. I know he means it; I can hear the sincerity in his voice.

My heart races in my chest, naked before a man for the first time. I can hardly believe the situation I’ve put myself in. My foggy brain, clouded by pleasure and desire, reaches out to his face. My thumb glides over his cheek and lips, a gentle caress, when I realize I haven’t shared an important detail with him.

“Jungkook… I’m a virgin,” I confess in a whisper, afraid that this revelation might change everything. His dark eyes widen slightly, probably from surprise, but he doesn’t judge me or treat me differently. He waits for me to continue, respecting the silence as I gather my thoughts. “I’m sorry... but I don’t feel ready for sex... in fact, I feel like I’m already doing something crazy just being here with you.”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks gently, his fingers brushing my thigh.

“No.” The word escapes my lips firmly, surprising even myself, a hint of fear lurking beneath my resolve. “Is there something we can do without... well, penetration?”

“Of course,” he smiles. His lips return to mine; our kiss deepens, tongues playing together. “I can lick your pussy if you want.”

“Oh.” My voice falters, unsure how to respond. The first image that flashes in my mind is from when I was fourteen, when a friend confided in me, in the school bathroom, about her experiences with her boyfriend. I remember feeling shocked and terrified, vowing I would never do something like that. My cheeks flush; my mind races with conflicting thoughts because now, in this moment, it doesn’t seem so absurd.

“Do you want to try? I promise you’ll love it,” he assures me, his nose trailing along my jawline. My skin prickles with anticipation as he lowers himself over me.

"I-I do,” I stammer nervously. I freeze on the bed, fingers entangled in his hair as his head moves side to side. My body is completely exposed to his mouth, and there isn’t a single spot he doesn’t linger over. His hands find my breasts, massaging them, his short nails grazing my areola.

“Do you like it when I tease your nipples?” he asks, creating a series of soft sucking noises as his mouth releases from my body. I nod, moaning softly.

“I really do,” I admit, my voice weak and foggy. He’s being so good to me that I can’t help but respond.

Jungkook smiles faintly, continuing his exploration, kissing his way down my body, his lips grazing my stomach, circling his tongue on my skin, igniting shivers and goosebumps. I can’t help but bounce on the bed, lost in the sensations. I hear his muffled laughter as he notices my trembling.

“Open your legs for me?” he requests, his warm hands caressing my thighs. I feel embarrassed and shy, tossing my head back against the bed, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m ashamed,” I admit, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but I know if I want the pleasure I’ve read about in my romance books, I must be honest with him.

“Y/N…” he murmurs my name, dragging his lips along my hip. He suddenly bites down on my sensitive skin, almost making me jump off the bed again. “You’re so good to me… you’ll cum so beautifully. I promise. Just let me see you.”

“I don’t know…” I whisper hesitantly, the desire coursing through me, battling against my fear.

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do: put my pillows under your head,” he suggests calmly, excitement evident in his tone. I search for his pillow among the bedding chaos and raise my head as he adjusts it, expanding my field of vision.

“Now I’m going to turn off the light and switch on the bedside lamp. Tell me if that helps.”

Jungkook quickly rises and walks to the switch. My face flushes even more as I see him grab his member, long fingers tracing its contours, massaging it gently, groaning softly as he looks back at me lying on the bed before the light goes out. The only illumination comes from the full moon shining through the window. Jungkook approaches me again, flicking on the blue-tinted lamp without haste. I’m captivated, feeling more at ease. My fingers slide almost instinctively over my thighs, pinching my warm skin. I let out a soft moan, feeling shy for being alone.

“Jungkook... Please come,” I ask, hearing another laugh escape him as his body finally sinks onto the bed. His weight settles into the mattress as he positions himself between my legs, pushing my knees apart, leaving me utterly exposed. The blue light casts a calming glow, one I hadn’t felt before, allowing my body to relax even in this vulnerable state.

“Better?”

“Much,” I assure him, closing my eyes waiting for his touch, which comes directly... there.

I follow his movements with my head on the pillow, excitement building as I watch what he’s doing to me. His index and middle fingers gently part the folds of my clit, his thumb brushing against it delicately. A high-pitched moan escapes my lips involuntarily, the kisses and caresses igniting my sensitivity. I can feel the urge to orgasm building with just one of his fingers. He circles slowly before plunging into my entrance, searching for my essence, then returning to tease my sensitive spot. My body writhes, muscles tensing. I’ve never orgasmed before, not even alone with the fantasies my books provided, but now, with him, it’s as if I’m on the brink of something monumental. Jungkook is perfection incarnate. Oh, my God.

“Your clit is perfect, so small and swollen,” he whispers in my ear, lowering his body until he’s completely lying down. His breath dances over my stomach, sending shivers through me. “I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Jungkook…” I moan, reaching for his dark hair. I can’t form any more words as his lips find my vulva. My body contracts, warm liquid spilling from my entrance. I open my mouth, eyes closing in bliss. “Oh! Jungkook!”

His fingers part my delicate lips, exposing me further. His tongue glides between my folds, rubbing my pulsating clit. I tremble and convulse, hips undulating for more contact, biting my lip to suppress the urge to scream his name. His lips envelop my swollen bud, his tongue swirling in slow, tantalizing motions, pushing me deeper into delirium. I can no longer think or reason, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

To heighten the pleasure, two of his fingers–ring and middle–enter me gently, sending me spiraling. I moan and sigh, knowing I won’t survive this intensity much longer. He quickens the rhythm of his mouth, pushing his fingers deeper, working me with deliberate care. I watch in sheer delight as he drives deeper inside me. It doesn’t hurt at all; I’m so wet that he slides in effortlessly, a pleasure so overwhelming it feels almost fatal. His fingers curve inside me, searching for a spot I didn’t even know existed, but that sends me into a state of pure bliss.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, voice thick and darkened with desire.

I nod, pushing his head back to my vulva again. I don’t want him to talk. I don't want him to stop. He chuckles and licks my clit again, withdrawing his fingers only to plunge them back in. Suddenly, I feel something different—a warmth spreading through my body, a tension building within me. Whatever he’s doing is working. His fingers go in and out, massaging a magical spot that sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.

“That’s it! Just like that…” I whisper, trembling, growing wetter. The warmth in my belly intensifies, and my eyes well up with tears, feeling the relief and pleasure approaching. “Don’t stop! Please…”

He doesn’t stop; on the contrary, he grunts against my intimacy, adding a vibration that stirs my very soul. His saliva drips from my pussy onto the already messy sheets, creating an erotic scene that would have embarrassed me before, but now I can’t care less. Not when I’m so close. Not when I feel this way, on cloud nine. My moans grow louder, fingers gripping his hair, urging him closer.

“I’m going to… Jungkook!” I gasp, breathless, my hips moving instinctively. His fingers match my rhythm, sloppy fingering inside of me, creating an erotic melody that echoes through the room with every thrust. I erupt with a force I never anticipated, surprise flooding me with no warning. My brows knit together, my legs clamping around his head. My heart races, feeling warmth spread through me, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. Sweat coats my body, and the ecstatic sensation fills me completely.

I collapse back onto the bed, my muscles going limp, tremors subsiding until Jungkook finally pulls his lips away from me. His chin, mouth and cheek glistening with my excitement.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he curses, climbing over my stomach and grasping my neck to kiss me again. “Are you okay?”

“Humm,” is all I can manage to mumble, gasping for air, pulling him in for yet another deep kiss.

I taste myself on his tongue, a vivid reminder of everything that just happened. Even though embarrassment washes over me, I don’t care. I wrap my weak legs around his waist, pulling him on top of me. I circle my arms around his shoulders, my breasts pressing against his chest. He growls and moans softly near my ear, and I’m so addicted to him, to his taste and body, that the previous orgasm has done nothing to quell my desire to be near him.

“It was so good,” I confess, genuinely happy to indulge in such madness and not regret it afterward. This is one of those moments that etches itself into your memory, one you know you’ll never forget, no matter how much time passes.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he chuckles, pride evident in his voice as he takes in the state he’s left me in.

As I look into his eyes, I brush a strand of hair from his forehead. I touch the metallic piercing with my fingertips, feeling the coolness against my skin. “Do you want me to touch you?” the question slips out, almost shyly.

“You really don’t have to. I’m fine,” he replies, his voice low.

“But you are… I mean…” I argue, glancing downward, involuntarily. His member rests between us, hard and a reddish pink, almost painful to behold. I feel a pang of sympathy; his grunt morphs into a deeper moan when my thigh brushes against him accidentally. “Doesn’t it hurt? I mean, doesn’t it?”

“It hurts a little,” he admits, brushing a strand of my hair back with a smile. “But you don’t have to force yourself to do anything. I’m fine.”

“But… what if I want to?” I question, my face burning with embarrassment. My breath quickens and becomes erratic.

“Do you want to?” he asks, and for the first time this night, he seems just as shy as I am. I nod silently. If I’m here with him, I want to explore everything that comes to mind. I know we may not have another night like this. Maybe I’ll be a spinster forever, never experiencing what I’m feeling right now again. A voice in my head urges me to savor this, even if just for a few hours, to pretend nothing exists except for the two of us. “Alright, then you can touch me.”

“Can you lie down? I think that would be better,” I whisper, feeling uncertain. I don’t look confident or sexy at all, I’m painfully aware of it, but the fear of making a mistake looms over me. Jungkook complies, leaning back against the bed and adjusting the pillow I was using under his head. I sigh, assessing his body. He looks like a god, glistening with sweat, muscles taut beneath his soft, pale skin.

The truth is, I have to restrain myself from touching him with unbridled desire, and for the first time in my life, I wish I had more experience for this moment. I nervously bite my lower lip, formulating an idea. I start with his mouth, brushing our lips together lightly. His warm breath mingles with mine as I cup his cheek and kiss him. I go slow, feeling my heart race faster. I run my fingers through his hair, tracing his neck and chest, amazed that I can touch him however I want.

“Do you want to sit on top of me?” he asks, locking eyes with me. His dark gaze captivates me more and more.

“Can I?” I ask quietly. His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles.

“Of course you can! It’s what I want the most,” he says, gripping my hips. He pulls me close, and I open my legs, accommodating him between them. I sit on his lap, resting my hands on his stomach. “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then I’m all yours,” he assures me with a warm smile, holding my waist. The thought that, even if just for this moment, he is mine to do with as I wish, sends shivers down my spine.

I focus on his member, knowing that, like me, he must be more sensitive there. A drop of precum leaks from the tip, and I use my thumb to wipe it, spreading the liquid around his length. Jungkook’s face contorts, his eyebrows knitting together, almost as if he’s in pain, but I know it’s purely pleasure. I grip him more firmly, examining his smooth, delicious skin. I thrust slowly, studying his reaction closely. He writhes and moans again, gasping for air. I feel exhilarated just watching him.

“Use your pussy to wet my cock,” he whispers, instructing me. I feel heat rise in my cheeks, not quite understanding his words. He just smiles, pulling me closer and lifting me above his member. “Like this... just like this. Now go back and forth. Make my cock nice and wet.”

“L-like this?” I ask, moaning, feeling a fire ignite within me every time I rub against him. I don’t know who’s enjoying it more, me or him. I pull my hair back and place my hand on his chest, rolling my hips.

“You’re so wet…! God!” Jungkook groans, rolling his eyes.

One of his hands slides down to my butt, squeezing and massaging, and an involuntary smile escapes my lips as he seems just as lost in pleasure as I am. A strong, unexpected slap lands on my right side. I moan in surprise but don’t stop moving my hips, feeling my creamy essence coating him with each thrust. Jungkook growls, biting his lower lip, gazing at me with an intensity that would terrify me if it weren’t for the situation.

“Can you cum again like this?” he asks, gritting his teeth. I can only nod uncontrollably, using the head of his cock against my button. I lower my body a bit, seeking a more pleasurable angle; my legs burning from the intensity of the movements. “I’m gonna cum too, fuck! Keep going… Don’t stop, please! Don’t fucking stop!”

“Jungkook…!” I gasp, kissing his neck, on that mole I always wanted to taste. He moans louder, tightening his grip on my waist in a way that I know will leave marks by morning. My tongue trails over the lobe of his ear, sucking and creating a path of saliva down to his nipple. His growl deepens, and he thrusts against me, creating a rhythm I can’t bring myself to halt.

With every movement, the sound of skin against skin grows louder, filling the room with a symphony of sloppy and slick sounds as our bodies connect. The heat in my belly rises, and my clit throbs with urgency. I whimper and lower my head, fully aware of what that means. My heart races, and my legs move faster, using Jungkook’s slick member to reach climax once more.

“Oh my God! My…” I whisper, feeling the sensitivity peak. Jungkook holds my head in place, eyes locked with mine, an electric connection that’s utterly intoxicating. My muscles move on pure instinct; I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Everything explodes again, as powerful as the first time. My body contracts, my essence flows, but I don’t dare stop, knowing that Jungkook is close too, teetering on the edge.

“Please Jungkook, please.” I plead in desperation, my voice shaky. His skin prickles, and his body flushes. Despite my inexperience, I know the effects I have on him are as powerful as his on me.

He growls hoarsely, eyes closing. His flushed face contorts, breathing halting for a moment. He curses under his breath and groans until he finally releases, soaking my belly and his own with a long, shuddering orgasm. His moan is breathtaking, his mouth opens, hands gripping my body. He exhales after a while, face sweaty, pupils dilated. The most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. I can’t help but laugh, collapsing weakly on him.

“Holy shit, it’s been ages since I’ve cum like that,” he admits breathlessly, wrapping his arms around me.

“I have to tell you something…” I lift my chin, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. I smile awkwardly, but determined to be honest. “Those were my first two orgasms ever.”

“Really?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise. I'm shy, nodding my head. His piercing catches the blue light, so captivating that I can’t help but reach out to touch it again. “I guess I’m really good, then.” he jokes, proudly.

“No, you're not,” I roll my eyes, laughing along with him. His chest rises and falls beneath me, moving my head gently. My ear rests over his heart, so close I can hear every rapid beat, lulling me into a state of calm. “I really want to sleep.”

“Me too,” he whispers tiredly, running his fingers through my hair. I moan softly, savoring the affection. “Before you sleep, you should use the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to,” I grumble. My legs feel like jelly, and my body is completely spent. There’s no way I can get up from this bed, even though I know I’m a mess, all sweaty, dirty and smelling like him.

"Alright," he chuckles at my stubbornness. "Do you want some water? I can also bring a wet cloth to clean you up."

"Yes... please." I close my eyes even before he fully rises, slipping into a state of blissful unconsciousness, utterly exhausted from our night.

My mom is gonna kill me.

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @joonwater @ttipa

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter three

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ♡

a/n: OMFG I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! Life has been like one raging tornado and has not slowed down in forever. My Wattpad was also deleted so I lost writing motivation for a long time too...But, I'm going to attempt to update this story more since I was so excited for it and I know you are too! Thank you to everyone who has left comments, I read them all and I really appreciate it! <3

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

taglist (crossed out = couldn't be tagged): @oopscoop || @writingwithmai || @osakis-gf || @hiefisch || @effielumiere || @singukieee || @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh || @littlrmills14-blog || @welcometomyworld13 || @chaimin || @demarie04 || @manic-atthe-disco || @blancflms || @ingyusart || @realrintaro || @braveangel777 || @ldysmfrst || @kpopmultistantrashsstuff || @vaishavi4w || @foreverddaeng

I decided to wake up early the next morning so that I could make breakfast for everyone. When I got downstairs, I noticed that it was still raining outside. Although it wasn’t as bad as last night, it still wasn’t anything that someone should be outside in.

Making breakfast was a challenge. This is the most food I’ve ever had to make at once. Not to mention that I have to make it as quiet as possible so as not to wake the hybrids with sensitive hearing.

About halfway through making breakfast, I heard light footsteps coming down the hall from the stairs. Turning towards the doorway of the kitchen, I see Seokjin peeking in. “Good morning,” I say and smile at him.

“Good morning,” his voice is still soft and quiet like it was last night. He fidgets in the doorway, watching as I move around the kitchen.

“Do you want to help?” I ask him.

He looks up at me, startled. “...Can I?”

“Of course. Do you know how to make pancakes?” He nods his head yes. “Great, then you can help me decide what kind to make. You know everyone’s preference better than I do so you’ll be a big help in making sure everyone eats happily.”

By the time the food was ready, we had made a wide variety of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and had several bowls of mixed fruits as well. Being hybrids, especially those like the wolf and tiger, they will have big appetites. In general, they all will as grown men so I don’t have any doubt that all of the food will be eaten in no time.

“Seokjin?” I ask and he looks up at me with a hum from where he was helping set the table. “I can finish this if you want to go get everyone up please?” He nods and scampers to get the rest of his pack.

A few minutes later, loud shuffling is heard as all seven of them make their way toward me in the dining room. “Good morni–oof!” In the middle of greeting them, I was interrupted by a bundle of hyper, furry, warmth in the form of Jungkook. He rushed to me as soon as he saw me and wrapped me in his arms in a tight hug.

The others look at him in panic. “Jungkook!” Several of them shouted in worry.

I just laugh, gently patting him on the back, causing him to practically melt in my arms. “Well, good morning to you too, bunny. Did you sleep well?”

He pulls away from me and nods erratically. “Uh-huh! The bed was so warm and cozy. I haven’t slept this well in forever. I almost didn’t want to get up when Jin came to wake us up.” He smiles brightly showing me his adorable bunny teeth and I can hear his foot thumping happily against the floor again.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” I think I’m starting to understand the fond looks I’ve caught the others throwing at Jungkook when they think he isn’t looking. “You could have stayed in bed a bit longer if you wanted. Although, I’m not sure breakfast would taste as good warmed up in the microwave as opposed to fresh off the stove.”

His bunny ears perk up on top of his head at the mention of food and he quickly shuffles to the table. Everyone watches him go in silence before we all follow him, moods lifted due to his enthusiasm.

I turn to the others who still seem to be waiting for me to make the first move, despite Jungkook’s gung-ho attitude. “Well go ahead,” I tell them, gesturing to the table. “You don’t have to wait for me, help yourselves.”

Like the previous night, they all shuffled around the table, clumsily finding their seats. They kept the same configuration as before; the predators surrounding the prey and effectively cutting me off. I don’t mind though if that’s what it takes to keep them comfortable here.

With the risk of irritating them, I spoke up. “So I figured we should set some ground rules, you know, besides the few from last night.” They all shuffled nervously, slowing their eating. Namjoon and Yoongi particularly seemed bothered by this sentence as their eyes narrowed slightly at me in response.

Sensing their worry I work quickly to console them. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” I wave my hands frantically.

Jimin peers at me curiously through his bangs. “What are the rules?” His voice was timid but it didn’t shake as he used it.

“Well, you guys are welcome to stay as long as you need to,” I say, smoothing the napkin down in my lap. “You can pretty much do whatever you’d like. The estate is big so there’s a lot to explore. I just ask that you be careful. This was my family’s home so lots of stuff in here has sentimental meaning.”

“I also ask that you maybe help around the house every so often…” I trail off as they all turn nervous and upset. “I’m not asking you to pick up a bunch of chores or anything like that! Maybe just help me keep tidy by cleaning up any messes you make. And Seokjin, I could tell you liked helping me with breakfast this morning.” The ferret hybrid turns slightly rosy with the attention now on him. “I would love your help every so often,” I say softly, chuckling under my breath. “Lord knows I’m not the best cook.”

They start to relax slightly but some tension remains, keeping the muscles in their bodies taught and hair on end.

They finished the rest of their breakfast in a slightly uncomfortable silence, the only sound heard was gentle chewing and the gentle scrape of forks against plates.

When morning pleasantries were done, they all stayed in their awkward huddle like the night before, waiting for me to give them instructions or dismiss them.

Jungkook shuffled in place and I could tell he wanted to say something. “What is it, Jungkook?” I asked, urging him to say what was on his mind.

“Umm…do you have any video games?” He asks shyly, bunny ears twitching nervously atop his head. The others look between the two of us timidly, as if waiting for me to snap at him for asking the question.

I chuckle softly, eyes lighting up. I’ve been waiting for someone who was enough of a challenge when it comes to gaming. “Of course I do!” I exclaim, ushering him to the spacious living room where my console sits. 

I’m learning very quickly that Jungkook is very animated in the way that his body seems to speak for him most of the time. His nose twitches in excitement as he bounds towards the large sofa, picking up a controller.

Jin slowly makes his way to the couch, taking up the space next to Jungkook. The other hybrids exchange a glance, trying to decide which predator will stay with their more docile counterparts. Taehyung squeezes his way between the two on the couch, making it clear to me that they are under his watch at the moment.

Not saying anything, I plop down in the recliner a few feet away and turn my attention to the remaining hybrids. “You’re more than welcome to stay and play with us. If not, there’s plenty else to do. There’s a small library, a home theater, an art studio, and of course your bedrooms and any other rooms you can find something to do as well.” As I list off things they can do, I notice some of their eyes light up about certain rooms.

Namjoon’s face seemed to brighten when I mentioned the library and Taehyung’s ears twitched slightly at the mention of the art room. Something to keep in mind later when he’s done staking claim over his pack mates.

With no further instructions needed, the rest of the hybrids dispersed, venturing to various places across the house while I settled in to play video games with the few that remained.

[sweetlyskz]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞|| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐨𝐭𝟕 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐥

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭||𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟕, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟗

The orphanage was warm and cozy. While people were getting ready to spend time with their family, you were handwriting letters, thanking all of the women in the orphanage that cared for you. The orphanage was pretty small, but it was homely, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla filled it. In the living quarters was a stone fireplace, a large furry rug laid in front of it. That’s where you slept most of the time.

It’s where you met Jin for the first time.

“Hey, what are you doing? It’s past curfew!” Those are the words he first said to you.

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down. I’m almost done.” You gathered up all of your letters and put them in envelopes. One of the letters you handed to him.

“Here”, you said. “Give this to Miss Jang in the morning. I put your name on it.”

“Why? I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, Miss Jang has been good to you. It’s only fair.”

Jin was about to walk away until he saw you were still sitting there, staring up at him.

“What? Everyone else is asleep.”

“I can't,” you whispered.

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t sleep, not tired.” you rubbed your eyes.

He sighed. He knew you were sleepy but he didn’t try to fight you on it. Instead, he came and sat down next to you. You laid your head on his lap, letting him run his hands through your hair.

“What’s on your mind?” He’d ask, and you would vent to him about your thoughts. You fell asleep that way every night. The nuns in the orphanage knew that you two would fall asleep by the fireplace but they didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to do a better job at getting you to sleep than they did.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓

Christmas was coming up. Everybody stayed busy in the orphanage, making decorations and putting presents by the big tree in the dining room. Children were getting adopted left and right, families wanting a change for the new year. Jin’s birthday was last week. You and the nuns made you a cake with 12 candles. You sang a song for him and made him a birthday card, with the help of Miss Jang.

𝐓𝐨 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞,

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲.

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

When Jin turned 16, he was given a phone. Since he was the oldest and most responsible child in the orphanage, they wanted to make sure he could contact someone if something happened. He only used it once, the time when you broke your arm on your birthday.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟏𝟒, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗

“Be careful, princess!” Jin shouted from the ground below you.

You were on the roof of the orphanage, a piece of cake in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other. The roof was your special spot, a spot where you could watch the sunrise and sunset. It felt like freedom.

“Calm down, I’m about to get down”, you rolled your eyes, finishing your last piece of cake and drinking your last drop of soda.

Wearing socks on the roof was not the best idea. On your way down, your sock slipped off your foot, causing you to fall on your left shoulder. When you got to the hospital they had to pop your shoulder back in place and give you seven stitches.

But Jin was there for every second, never leaving the side of the hospital bed.

Until you got back to the orphanage, two strange people were standing in the living room.

“Jin! Your back!” Miss Jang greeted him. “This lovely family is here to see you. I’ll show __ to her bed.”

And that was the moment when your world crashed. That was the moment when your life lost its meaning.

That was the moment when you were left alone.

After Jin’s talk with the guys, the room went silent. It was too much information to process all at once, but he had to get it off of his chest.

“She was my best friend," he whispered. “It was hard to leave her. I really didn’t want to, but the family that adopted me didn’t want a daughter.”

“Why won’t she talk to you then?” Namjoon asked. It seemed like you had a good relationship before. “What changed?”

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟒, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

“Waiting again Miss Kim?” One of the nuns walked past you. You smiled.

“Today is the day ma'am!” You sat out by the window, looking out at the front yard.

“What's today Y/n?”

“It’s Jinnies birthday! He said he was gonna stop by today”, you told her, pointing to the cake you left in the kitchen with a do not touch label on it. “ I made it for him, just like old times.”

You looked at the clock. 2:00 pm. He should’ve been here by now.

So you called. No answer. Then you called again an hour later. No answer. At the end of the night you left him a voicemail while giving the cake to the younger kids in the orphanage.

“Hey, happy birthday Jinnie. Hope you’re okay and uh– I miss you.”

Then you left another one the next year.

“Hey Seok, not sure if you still have this number but… happy birthday! Uhm, I hope your new family is treating you well. Love you.”

Then you left the last one in 2013.

“Seokie”, you sniffled, trying to calm down. “M-miss Jang is gone… everyone is gone. Please h-help.”

If only he had come to help you that day. Maybe things would’ve been different.

Maybe.

The next meeting with the boys was practically pointless. You were supposed to be talking about what concept they wanted for their clothing line but all you were met with was silence.

“I was thinking”, you started. “We should do an all pink line. It would go great with the concept of your new album. What do you think?”

More silence. They all just sat there, looking at each other.

“Did I miss something?” You raised an eyebrow. It seemed like everyone had this secret meeting and left you out of it.

Jin stood up first. The others followed his example. “We’ve decided as a team that we can no longer continue with this partnership.” His managers looked at them in shock. you guess they didn’t inform anyone else of their careless decision.

You laughed. “Did you decide this before or after your boyfriend showed up at my house unannounced?”

“That was an error in judgment on my part. I apologize, but this is for another reason.”

“Oh, so He finally told you?” You scoffed. “So what? Leave the past in the past and focus on the present. What you're doing is foolish.”

Jin slammed his hand on the table, all of the rage that was building up inside him finally spilling over. “No, what you’re doing is foolish! Acting like above it all?”

“Please”, He laughed. “You’re fooling no one. Just get it over with!”

“Get what over with?” You gave him a blank stare.

“Hit me”, he said. The others looked at him as if she had just lost his mind. “Scream at me, hit me, do something! You, staring at me like I’m some stranger– that’s why I can’t do this!”

“Get over it already”, You told him plainly. “This–this isn’t about you and me! This is about my future and I only have one if we go through with this deal!”

Your manager stepped in. “She’s right. Without this deal Kim & Clothes will not be successful. We need this deal to get other deals, hopefully from overseas.” Namjoon huffed, slamming his hands on the desk out of anger.

“Jin.”

He looked up at you. “Y-yeah?”

“Please do this for me. If you still love me, you will help.”

“Okay”, He whispered.

“Okay?”

“Y-yes, I– we’ll help.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@scuzmunkie @moon-cupcakes @quillan-pie @uarmyhore

[honey-andmilktea]

-ˏˋ⋆𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⋆ˊˎ-

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐀𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

🤎𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: OnlineInfluencers!BTS OT7 x Animator!Fem!OC!Reader [Mentions of ATEEZ] | 🌙𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: College AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers| ❌𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Vulgar Language, Suggistive Scenes, Smut

🍁𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A story where a girl who is barely present in social media doesn't know that her new neighbors are famous online stars.

🖊️𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐠 #📜[neighbors] [To keep track of the series! Send me an ask to be added to the series taglist!]

🍂 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐂𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐜! 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙!

✎ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @armysantiny, @faywithlove, @moonprismo, @iridescentxstars, @felicityroth, @mo0nbeams, @angelfuzzy2 , @singukieee

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” - Sarah Williams, 'The Old Astronomer'

✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:

✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: A New Start ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: Starts with a Smile ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: Familiar Faces ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: Cookies & Introductions ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: Oh, So You're My Neighbor ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: Distrust ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕: Epic Realization ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖: Important Conversations ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗: With Open Arms ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎: Coffee Stained Portrait ✎ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏: 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐧…

✎ 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬

✎ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫: The Boys Profiles

✎ @honey-andmilktea - 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

[jjksblackgf]

blossoming | masterlist

🌼pairing ⇢ jungkook x black oc 🌼summary ⇢ fighting alongside the enemy instead of against him. that was bad enough. but Samantha didn't know that her life would continue to surprise her and throw her emotions and expectations all over the walls. 🌼genre ⇢ fluff, humor, smut | enemies to lovers, soulmate au, non-idol au 🌼rate ⇢ 18+ 🌼word count ⇢ 20k (estimated) 🌼warnings ⇢ lots of poorly written humor and explicit sexual content on chapters four and five. 🌼author's note ⇢ thank you so much to my friend Carol, for being extra patient while waiting for her request to be written lol took me four years, but it's about to be delivered now lol <3

🌼 teaser ⇢ what's it to you? 🌼 prologue ⇢ too much tension (upcoming july 6th) 🌼 one ⇢ fraternizing with the enemy (upcoming july 20th) 🌼 two ⇢ brothers in arms (upcoming) 🌼 three ⇢ twisted advices (upcoming) 🌼 four ⇢ complicated truce (upcoming) 🌼 five ⇢ shaken ground (upcoming) 🌼 six ⇢ champagne problems (upcoming) 🌼 epilogue ⇢ the afterlife (upcoming)

🌼extra ⇢ my night (upcoming)

[smolkooks]

when did it end? - park jimin

short and sweet. mild angst. inspired by billie eilish's 'what was i made for?'. dad!jimin au.

my masterlist!

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

jimin had watched his daughter grow up.

her face, round with youth and bright like the sunshine, had changed little in his eyes even though he knew that she wasn’t a baby anymore. in fact, she was exactly the age that you were when he met you, today.

looking at her, laughing with her friends in the living room while he sat at the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help but think back to how life was with you.

days that felt neverending, spent at the beach. wading through the cold water, all year round, even during the freezing winter when you would grumble about how it was way too cold for the sun to work, way too cold for you to tan the way you wanted to. regardless of what you said, he always managed to drag you into the ocean. not that it took too much convincing—he knew, deep down, that you had always been a lover of the sea. just like he was. it was something that had brought the two of you together.

other days, you would go to the cinema like teenagers always did, on first dates, and second dates, and whenever they weren’t sure of where else to go. you were a sucker for horror and even though jimin always had nightmares for days after watching one, he still went with you. anything to make you happy. (even if it traumatised him a bit...)

it had all ended far too fast. not even three months after the birth of your daughter, you were gone. the doctors had done everything they could to save you, but you were gone.

that was sixteen years ago, now. sixteen years ago, jimin had had no idea how he would raise his daughter without you, without his lover, his best friend, his rock.

“dad!”

pulled out of his thoughts, jimin met the gleaming eyes of his clever daughter and smiled, lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. “soomin, what’s wrong?”

“we’re going out,” soomin responded with a bright grin, gesturing at her three friends, who had begun to pack up their things, “i’ll see you tonight. i’m so excited for your cake.”

jimin chuckled, silenced by how deeply her smile reminded him of you. how the way her left cheek dimpled was the way yours had. how her voice was as bright and beautiful as yours had always been.

“stay safe, soominie,” he said, patting her on the head, “i love you.”

she jokingly slapped at his hand for the pat, before heading out the door. jimin was left staring at the door, the house absent of sound.

he wished you were here to see it all.

[itssunshinetoday]

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, jimin

More of the boyfriend pictures series

[livingformintyoongi]

here's my request:

jimin and yn being exes and meeting again at their best friends wedding (the groom is jimin's best friend and the bride is yn's)

their friends know that they still love eachother, so they make them sit together, but they bicker for the whole celebration.

when it's time to leave, she doesn't have a ride home, and jimin offers himself to take her to her place. Once they get there, she asks him if she wants to go upstairs, to have a final drink.

They talk about their break up, and when he's about to leave, he kisses yn and have make up sex against the kitchen counter 💥

Just a taste

a/n: First of all, thanks for making the request for Jimin, it's my first time writing about him and that makes me very excited 😀, secondly, sorry for the delay, the request ended up being much longer than I thought it would be. Warnings: A littly angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, exes 2 lovers, soft sex (there was no specification on this, so I did it as I thought it went in the situation), reader has problems with overthinking the future too much, unprotected sex, sex without prior lubrication (please don't do this, you could hurt yourself). wc: 5.3k

"Stop looking at me" you whispered in annoyance, not deigning to look at Jimin.

"Stop thinking I'm looking at you" he whispered as he rolled his eyes and folded his arms, "Not everyone revolves around you, you know that?".

"why don't you shut up and go to hell?" you snorted, crossing your legs and watching as your best friend gave the first waltz of the night next to her now husband and best friend of your ex.

"I've been there" Jimin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Don't you think it's ironic that you're asking me when you're the one who took me there."

"Fuck you" you got up from your chair, walking towards the exit door. You needed a drink of alcohol, or maybe a breath of fresh air, either sounded good at the moment. Committing murder at your best friend's marriage was stooping too low.

You took advantage of the fact that most of the guests were too busy watching Soomin and Taehyung dance and stole a glass of champagne from one of the tables that had been abandoned. You downed the drink in one gulp and then abandoned it on another empty table. 

It was unfair that everyone was enjoying the party and you had to put up with your idiot ex.

When you opened the door that led to the gigantic garden that the event center had you were surprised to notice that it was much colder than when you arrived. It had only been a few hours, but it was enough to set foot outside to make your skin crawl. And that it's still spring, you thought to yourself, walking towards one of the benches that were under a roof covered with vines.

It felt good to be away from Jimin, from his rude comments, from the scent of his perfume, from his fluffy lips, oh, you still remembered what a good kisser he was. The two of you could spend hours just giving each other lazy kisses and discreet touches on your clothes.

You took a seat on the bench, letting your head fall back, letting out the air you were holding in. You watched as the smoke drifted out of your mouth until the whitish cloud was completely gone. You wanted to go home, but you also didn't want to abandon your friend on her special day, Jimin was an idiot, but he was right in saying that not everything revolves around you.

"Y/N?"

You almost screamed in shock when you saw Soomin standing next to you, staring at you with those big, bright eyes that could convince anyone to do anything she wanted. That same look was the one she gave you when she asked you to be her maid of honor.

"Minnie, what are you doing here?" you sat up straight, smiling slightly when you saw that Taehyung had given her his jacket to cover his bare arms from the cold. He seriously was a great guy. "You should be with your husband dancing... or doing whatever it is couples do at their wedding."

You couldn't help but laugh as his cheeks flushed slightly at how you had called Taehyung.

"I came to find you, it's so cold out here" she walked to your side, taking a seat on the same bench as you. It was hard to make herr dress not use up all the available space. "I saw that Jimin was alone at the table and I got worried."

"Ah, Minnie, you're so sweet" you hummed with a smile, taking her left arm and kissing her cheek smilingly, "Don't worry about me, it's your day, enjoy it."

"I want my best friend to enjoy it too" this time it was she who smiled at you and took your arm, resting her head on your shoulder, "I'm so happy, but I'd be even happier if you were too."

You almost shrieked as you listened to her. You had made too many bad choices in your life, being friends with Soomin wasn't one of them.

"You should watch what you say, at this rate I'll end up falling in love with you and want to kidnap you from your wedding," you both laughed, she stroked your arm and you just looked up at the ceiling, watching the vines hang gracefully. You liked this place.

"Let's go inside, I don't want you to get sick" Soomin turned to look at you, barely smiling. 

You couldn't say no to her, so as soon as she got up from the bench, you stood up and followed her silently, hoping you wouldn't run into Jimin again.

"Y/N, honey!" shouted Taehyung with a smirk, raising his hand and shaking it so you could both see where he was.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you saw Soomin's look change completely at the sight of him. You wanted something like that too.

"I'm glad you guys are back" Taehyung said as soon as you were in front of him. Yes, just him, you preferred to completely ignore Jimin's existence. "It's almost time for your dance." 

"Who's going to dance?" you asked curiously, looking towards the dance floor.

"You and Jimin, who else?" laughed Taehyung, grabbing Jimin's shoulders and pulling him closer to you. "You're the second most important people in the place, obviously you must dance together."

You were regretting earlier. Taehyung was a lousy person, he deserved the worst in the world.

"What the fuck, Taehyung?" you heard Jimin say in a low voice. He sounded even more annoyed than you.

"Come on, don't be shy, it's just a dance, no one's going to die because of that" he gave Jimin's back a few small pats. "Besides, it's our wedding, you should, I don't know, cooperate a little."

And with that said, you were both dragged onto the dance floor, not before you elbowed him in the side and he stomped on your foot.

"What are you still doing here?" asked Jimin, walking past you to the parking lot.

"What do you care?" you snorted, hugging yourself as you felt a strong wind current crash against you. It was barely three in the morning and you already felt like you could turn into a block of ice. In your good years you could last until six in the morning, snow and all. You were out of practice. 

Jimin turned to look at you, watching your body tremble slightly. He noticed how you looked down the street, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you checked your cell phone.

"You didn't come by car?" This time he turned completely around, walking towards you. Just because he couldn't stand to be in the same place as you didn't mean he'd leave you here stranded all alone in the middle of the night. He wasn't that much of a psychopath. 

"Some idiot crashed my car and told the police it was my fault" you muttered, not taking your eyes off the street, "they took my license a year ago" you snorted as you remembered the fight you had to put up to get them to believe you. It didn't do any good.

"Are you still living in the same apartment?" Jimin started unbuttoning his suit jacket, getting close enough to be able to put it on your shoulders.

You turned to look at him, frowning, why was he asking you that? Worse, why was he handing you his jacket?

"Uhm, yeah, I still live where I always do, why do you ask?" you took his jacket, trying to make it cover as much skin as possible. You didn't want to talk to him, but you wouldn't refuse his help either. The sack wasn't to blame for anything.

"I'll give you a ride" he pointed to his car with his head, "it's better than standing around waiting for a car to come by, and less dangerous than calling an uber and having, I don't know, some creepy guy touch you and want to take advantage of you."

You glanced down the street again. You bit your bottom lip slightly, trying to think through your answer. You didn't want to be alone with Jimin, but he was right, it was too dangerous, especially at this hour. The way to your house wasn't exactly short, at least you had forty minutes, in an uber you could only go alone with the driver. You'd be lying to say that the idea didn't scare you even a little bit.

"Fine" you muttered, watching him walk towards a big black car. It looked pretty expensive, he'd surely been given the promotion he'd worked so hard to earn. It wasn't like you cared either.

You hurried to his side, not taking your eyes off your feet. You wanted to get home soon.

"Here" he whispered close to your ear, opening the passenger door for you.

For a second you thought your heart stopped and your lungs had decided to stop working. Luckily for you, it was just your imagination.

"Thank you" you nodded quickly, getting into the car and grabbing the seatbelt. Jimin had shut the door as soon as you were comfortable in the seat.

You took a breath, feeling your body temperature rise a little at a time. The car was much warmer than outside.

"Ready," Jimin said once he was inside. You watched as he got the car started and prepared to drive, "You can sleep on the way home, I don't mind," he murmured, resting his right elbow on the back of your chair and leaning back to look at the parking lot.

You had to pretty much resist the temptation to watch his arms flex. 

"Thank you," you murmured, settling in next to the window. You'd a thousand times rather pretend to sleep than look Jimin in the face as he drove. You wanted to avoid awkward silences.

You closed your eyes and let the warm air from the heater hit your face and relax you enough to fall asleep. 

When you opened your eyes you were only a few minutes away from your apartment. You straightened up in your chair and gave a big yawn. You checked the time, it was only three fifty in the morning. You couldn't believe you had slept fifty minutes.

You lifted your head, seeing Jimin's seat empty, you looked all around the inside of the car, and no matter how hard you looked there was no sign of him. You saw your window, feeling your heart race as you saw that Jimin had parked the car in front of your favorite German food store. 

You had to bite your tongue to keep from squealing.

It wasn't long before Jimin came out of the store with a large yellow bag in his hands and the car keys in the other. A slight blush adorned his cheeks when he looked up and noticed you staring at him.

You had forgotten how easy it was to make him blush.

He walked to the car door, offering you the bag once he was inside. 

"Here," he murmured, looking anywhere else but at you. 

"Why did you buy me this?" you took the bag, opening it and looking at the food inside. It was your favorite food.

"You said you were hungry in your sleep" he started the car again, heading straight for your apartment. You couldn't help but watch him the rest of the way. 

"Thanks for giving me the ride" you bowed slightly, looking at Jimin. You didn't understand why he had escorted you to the door of your apartment, but you didn't want to discuss it either, you thought it was unnecessary.

"It's nothing, I wouldn't feel at ease knowing that something bad might have happened to you" he nodded awkwardly, scratching his neck.

You turned your back on him, putting your password on the door. The click of the lock broke the silence that had fallen between the two of you. You opened the door slightly, pausing for a few seconds. Memories of the day you broke up came rushing back, causing your heart to clench to the point where it became impossible not to wince. 

You didn't want to regret again about something to do with Jimin.

"Don't you want to come in for a drink?" you turned around, watching as Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected you to extend an invitation after everything that happened at the marriage. "I just... I want to return the favor."

He nodded quickly, rubbing his hands down the sides of his pants in a futile attempt to push away the anxiety. He couldn't believe you were seriously inviting him into your home after all this time. 

"Come in" you murmured, entering your house with the sound of his footsteps behind you. It had been years since you had invited a man into your home. The last time was when you broke up with Jimin.

You left the bag of food on your kitchen counter and walked over to the cabinet that held your collection of yellow tulip plates. You left two of them next to the bag so you could empty the food inside.

Jimin, on his side, was too distracted looking at the new decoration of your house. The last time he set foot in this place all your walls were painted in a pastel yellow color, full of pictures of abstract paintings and strange photographs that he never fully understood. He also remembered that you had a large collection of pictures of him on your TV cabinet. Both the furniture and the TV had been completely changed for much more modern objects, not to mention that the cheerful paint on your walls had now gone to a beige color, and the abstract art on your walls were now just pictures and paintings of the world's most famous cities. He didn't want to think too much about the fact that his pictures were nowhere to be seen anymore.

"Do you want a beer?" you asked aloud, your head completely stuck in your cooler.

Jimin responded with an affirmative sound, too distracted noticing the differences in the place. Somehow he felt it looked pretty good on you, but that uneasiness that something didn't quite fit the mood was still swirling around in his head.

"Okay" you muttered to yourself, looking at both plates. You couldn't remember when was the last time you ate with someone here, you couldn't even remember when you had last eaten at home. You hated being here. "I've already served the plates, are you coming?".

He nodded as he walked over to you, taking a seat in front of the vacant plate. He felt a little embarrassed to realize that you now knew he still remembered your favorite dish, was that too strange?

"It's so yummy" you moaned contentedly once you tried a bite, "it's been so long since I've eaten this, I've been so busy."

"At least that explains why you're so thin" he murmured, taking a bite of the food into his mouth. He hadn't tasted this food in a while either. He missed it more than he thought he would.

"I only lost ten pounds, it's not for you to exaggerate" you rolled your eyes, stirring your food. You weren't sure how to bring up the subject of your breakup, but you knew it was the last chance you would have to clear things up.

You were both silent for a few minutes, both of you aware of the tension in the room, but neither of you were able to take the first step and break it. You were afraid of opening yourself even more to him, and Jimin was afraid that you would reopen the wound you had left him five years ago. 

In the end the only person who was able to take the first step was him. As always.

"What happened to us?" he whispered, staring at his plate. You could tell his lips were moving slowly as he chewed his food.

What had happened to you? Even you weren't sure about that. With Jimin things had always been easier; he knew what you wanted without you telling him, he knew how to read your gestures, he knew your tastes, he loved everything about you, inside and out, the good and the bad. Jimin was the best boyfriend you ever had in your life, and he probably would have been the boyfriend any 20-year-old girl would have wanted. So what had happened to you?

"I've been wondering ever since you broke up with me," he set his fork aside. His plate was now empty, but he still wasn't able to take his gaze off of it. "Did I do something wrong? Was I too persistent? Did I not show you that I loved you enough? Did I not give you enough?" he let out a sigh, letting his back fall against the back of his chair, "I know it's been five years, but I still can't figure out what my mistake was."

You tried to swallow the mouthful in your mouth, but the lump in your throat wasn't making it easy. You wanted to sort out the ideas in your head a bit before answering him. He probably still hated you, you wanted him to, you hated yourself for saying the things you said to him, for treating him the way you did. 

"Don't try to find the answer in you" you set your plate aside, knowing you would be unable to continue eating in the state you were in, "it wasn't you who did the wrong things, it was me." You took a breath, taking all the strength you could muster to look Jimin in the face. You wanted him to notice how sincere your apology was. "You were... you were one of the best things that ever happened to me, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret leaving you the way I did, or leaving you in the first place."

"You regret it?" the look on Jimin's face finally lifted and confronted yours. The lump in your throat grew even tighter. "That's no reason to have kicked me out of your house and your life without any explanation and without letting me decide about it, you didn't even give me a chance to tell you what I thought! You blocked my number, you didn't answer when I knocked on the door, you avoided me at all costs" his fists clenched slightly, "I deserved an explanation, just one reason, no matter how stupid it was, would have been enough for me to decide if I wanted to fight for what was ours or just let you go and find my own way."

Making eye contact with Jimin became increasingly difficult as his words became stakes that dug into your heart. You knew he would hold a grudge, but to hear it from his mouth, to hear it in his voice, that was another level, and you weren't sure if you could get through it without bursting into tears midway through.

"I know I owe you an explanation" you tried to say it firmly, you wanted to sound sure of what you were saying, but it was hard when Jimin was in front of you staring at you, "that's why I asked you to come in, I needed to clear things up."

"Well, go ahead, tell me what happened" he folded his arms, turning his body towards you.

"I was afraid" you mumbled, lightly burying your nails into the skin of your fingers, "We had been together for four years, you were all I knew until then, I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted in my life, I didn't want to continue to be with you and live in fear that at some point in our lives we might just stop loving each other" by this point you are no longer even able to look him in the eyes, or even his face. Your eyes stung and the urge to vomit was getting bigger and bigger, "I didn't want our relationship to end up like some sort of worn out marriage, where both parties are horn to other people, where you're not even able to remember the good memories anymore, and I know it sounds stupid, but I was young, and I had a great imagination, and I just.... " you took a breath, letting your head fall back to stop the tears from coming out of your eyes, "I wanted to keep our relationship like it was back then, I thought that maybe, if we broke up before everything was ruined, we would still be able to look back and not forget the beautiful thing we had, and you don't know how much I regret doing that because now I know that all of that was just my mind trying to make a problem out of nothing because of some stupid insecurity, and because of that I lost you, and you were really the only good thing I had up until then."

"Okay, wait a minute, calm down a little," he said in a soft voice, rising from his chair and taking your shoulders. As soon as you felt his hands on you, you burst into tears. "Hey, it's okay, don't cry" he pulled you close to his chest, allowing you to cry on his shirt, not caring if it was stained or not.

"I'm so sorry" you whispered, clinging to his waist as if your life depended on it, "I know I was stupid, God, I said such horrible things to you, I was so cruel, I didn't even think that about you, I just thought... maybe if I acted like a bitch to you you would think badly of me and it would make it easier to forget me".

"I never forgot you" he murmured over your head, gently kissing your scalp, "and I don't think I ever will."

You awkwardly wiped away your tears, pulling away from his chest long enough to see his face, "Really?"

He nodded, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears you had let out a few seconds ago, "I remember absolutely everything. How you loved to sleep cuddled up to me, or how you loved to walk down the soap aisle and smell each one to guess which one I bought" he left a kiss on your forehead, not letting go of your cheeks, "I also remember how you always kept an instant camera on your nightstand so you could capture my face as I slept; I remember how always after you did that you would touch each of my features and leave kisses on them" this time he kissed your cheek and his hands went down your shoulders until they stopped at the level of your waist, "I also remember how you liked to take your time kissing me, and that you were completely incapable of fucking without having a long kissing session before". You closed your eyes as you felt Jimin's forehead rest against yours. You could feel his nose pressing against yours gently, and his lips were so close that every time you moved them you could feel them brush against yours. "But there is one thing that no matter how hard I try, I am unable to remember."

"What one thing?" you whispered, leaning closer to him. 

"Your taste" caressed your lower back, pulling on you just enough so that both breasts were stuck together. 

"It's okay," you nodded, licking your lips, "that can easily be fixed.”

And you kissed him, and, oh my god, you really wouldn't ever regret that.

You wrapped your arms around Jimin's neck, pulling him to you, trying to make the space between you practically nil. You needed to feel him close, you needed your body and mind to assimilate the fact that it wasn't a complete stranger who was in front of you, it was Jimin, your Jimin, the same Jimin with whom you had your first time, with whom you almost got to live in the same house, the same Jimin who helped you follow your dream of being a photographer without thinking about what others would think. He was the only person you had come to love, and you had finally gotten to have him back.

Jimin gripped your waist tightly, sitting you down on the kitchen counter.

It could be years, but Jimin would never tire of kissing you.

With slightly trembling hands you began to unbutton his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours as soon as possible. Jimin, on the other hand, was concentrating on pulling your bridesmaid dress up to your waist. He couldn't help but barely open his eyes to see your underwear. He couldn't help but let out a groan when he saw that they were your favorite color.

Once you managed to remove her shirt you pulled it off as far as you could, letting your hands roam along his chest. You roamed over every part of his torso that had been exposed, stopping at his lower back so you could caress his dimples. You loved them so much.

"Lift your hips a little" he whispered in your ear, lowering his hands from your waist to your hips.

You quickly obeyed, leaning up just a little, just enough so that Jimin could remove your underwear. You took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

Jimin tossed your underwear somewhere in the room, hastily nipping at your neck and shoulders as his fingers neared your center.

You almost cried out when his fingers brushed your clit. It had been months since you had been with a man, which was already surprising considering how sexually active your life had been during the time you were with Jimin. There was practically no day when you didn't have sex. You had been out of practice, and that made you much more sensitive to his touch.

Your hands, trembling from the constant spasms that Jimin's fingers were causing you against your entrance and clit, focused on pulling down Jimin's pants and boxers, smiling internally as you heard him let out a moan as he felt his cock spring free.

You couldn't help but take it in your hands and fiddle with it. Jimin had the most beautiful cock you had ever seen.

"I want you inside" you whispered, making your head back to give Jimin more accessibility. "Now."

Jimin gave you a quick glance, his fingers still fiddling with your clit, massaging and tugging it to his liking, "Now? But-"

"Never mind, I want it now" you insisted, grinding your hips against his, eliciting a moan from him, "I missed five years of this, by this point it's a necessity."

"God, you haven't changed at all" he chuckled softly, taking his cock in his free hand to guide it to your entrance.

He moved the head of his member all over your entrance, sometimes going past it and taking advantage of rolling your clit. You could only respond to him with little moans, gasps and movements of your hips.

"Just shove it in" you grunted, pressing Jimin's head on your neck.

Jimin scoffed softly, starting to push his cock into your pussy. This time it was both of you who screamed.

You really missed this, even if it caused a burning in your pussy from not being lubricated enough, feeling Jimin again made that burning even exciting. You missed him so much.

"You're still just as tight as ever" he grunted into your shoulder, trying not to move so as not to cause you some kind of pain.

You had no interest in holding on. You'd finally been able to have Jimin inside you again, you'd make the most of every fucking second.

"I'm fine," you murmured, grinding your hips against his, "so stop torturing me and move."

"You sure?" he pulled away slightly, watching your face. You couldn't help but feel your heart race at the sight of Jimin's excited face, with his fluffy glossy lips and misty eyes… he looked like an angel.

"More than sure" you nodded quickly, kissing his face.

You almost drew blood on his back after he delivered the first lunge.

He was quite slow at first, his lunges were slow but steady, he would take care to pull his cock almost all the way out, only to bury it in your pussy with a lunge. It wasn't until he felt you were sufficiently lubricated that he began to increase the speed of his lunges.

And it felt like heaven to you.

It might have been 5 years, but Jimin still remembered perfectly what points to touch to bring you to the top in just a few minutes. Or at least that's what you thought after he hit your G-spot directly as soon as his onslaught started to get stronger.

You moaned quite loudly when he touched that spot.

"Your breasts are so cute" he hummed contentedly once he removed the sleeves of your dress and let them fall down until they freed your breasts, "so round and soft, I love them" he murmured, bringing his lips to them and leaving messy kisses around your nipples.

By this point you barely understood what he was saying.

"It feels so good" you whispered between gasps, resting your hands on the counter, leaning your chest closer to his lips, "so fucking good".

"Shit" Jimin grunted, resting his head on your shoulder, "how could you possibly be so tight?" he groaned softly, holding your hips so he could increase the speed of his onslaught, "it feels even better than I remembered."

You nodded awkwardly, using one of your hands to wrap around his neck and kiss him. Unlike the kiss you gave each other at the beginning, this one was much messier. It was all desperate tongues and teeth clashing against teeth.

"Faster" you sighed against his lips, squealing as you felt Jimin grab your waist and lift you off the counter, pressing his body to yours and allowing himself to increase the speed of his onslaught. Your whole body trembled as he used his fingers to pull on your clit as his cock slammed into your G-spot with force.

"I feel so close" he whispered, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock twist inside you. You felt so warm, wet and tight that it was almost impossible not to climax so quickly.

"M-me too," you gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes tightly, "Fuck, I seriously didn't remember you being so good."

Jimin replied with a chuckle, lifting you off the counter and pressing you against the kitchen wall. You groaned as you felt the cold crash against your back. "You still have a weakness for fucking against a wall?"

You didn't reach to answer him as a wave of pleasure built up in your body and was released the instant Jimin thought to press you against the cold wall of your kitchen. Honestly, you couldn't remember the last time you had come this way.

You moaned loudly as you felt Jimin's onslaught continue to get faster and messier. Your pussy burned from how sensitive it was.

"I-I cum" he growled in your ear, clinging to your waist and letting his seed fill your insides.

You were both silent for a few moments, trying to slowly come back to reality.

Jimin's gaze was glued to the junction of his cock with your pussy, watching as a mixture of his cum with your juices dripped to the floor. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"Sorry, I'll get something to clean the floor and-".

"No," you murmured, clinging to him with arms and legs, just as a sloth would cling to its branch, "Just…can we stay like this a little longer?"

"You want me to hold you against the wall?" he frowned, slightly confused. His legs would kill him the next day, but he was willing to do it if that's what you wanted.

"No" you rolled your eyes, looking Jimin in the eyes, "I want to feel you inside me, just a little more" you kissed his bare shoulder, marking a path from his shoulder to his jaw, "My room is the last door on the right. Let's stay there for a while, until tomorrow, please."

Jimin let a smile grow on his face at hearing that you would let him stay at your place tonight. The idea that this meant a second chance for you made his heart pound. He wondered if you could feel it now that your head was attached to his chest.

"Okay, let's go to your room" he whispered, leaving a chaste kiss on your crown of your head, "then let me take care of the mess we left, it was partly my fault."

"Since you insist…" you laughed softly, letting Jimin carry you to your certain in his arms.

You missed that feeling so much. You hoped and prayed this time you wouldn't ruin it.

Masterlist.

[hoseoksluna]

THE FUN DAY, pt. II. | kth

pairing: idol!military!boyfriend!taehyung x f. reader (ft. best friend!jimin)

genre: fluff, a little angst

word count: 5.0k

summary: you didn't prepare a fun day this time, but it became more than that.

pin: tba. / playlist: fun / taglist: join / discord: join

note: this was the first fic, during which i absolutely sobbed my heart out. i never had this happen to me and i'm sure you'll feel it as you read. please, show me your love. enjoy. <3

An abandoned woman can weep,  but an abandoned boy can weep not. Uncried affliction pains the most, even love, when seven mountains repose between it, the seven mountains of hard rocks. 

I have two small windows, I have two big eyes, but writings I have none that would drift, at dusk, upon my table, reminiscent of an ivory cloud, and that would say:  people love each other, man! 

𓂃 ౨ৎ . — The Evening by Jiří Wolker

Paris was chilled to the marrow, yet embraced by winter. Dotted with mute stars and coruscating lights, life and poetry that were missing syllables—as if it were trying to speak, trying to converse, but something was prying its fingers inside their mouth, not allowing them to let out a sound. 

That’s precisely how you felt within the depth of your afternoon nap. 

The Eiffel Tower tried with all its monumental might to say something. The cafés with their myriads of intellectual words, glasses of wine and desserts strained their throats much to their dismay. You gazed upon it all—and you felt it deeply, their forced inability that wasn’t theirs at all. You wore nothing but a flimsy, tattered white T-shirt that has seen its better days, an item of cotton that belonged to Taehyung, and your feet were bare on the cobblestones, scratched and raw, though not cold. In spite of it, you feared for your baby. Feared the cold, that you did not sense, would touch it and bring something unfortunate to its developing body. And you drifted like this through your dream, carrying fear and pity. For the whole vastness of Paris, forbidden to speak; and for the smallest of Paris inside your belly, unable to speak yet. 

You drifted and stood, gazing and gazing. Wanted to leave. Wanted to go back to your apartment, but you couldn’t. Your guilt kept you in your place while your fear strangled you until you were blue. 

No people in sight and you were dying. Blue and pregnant, blue and abandoned. Blue and maddened—within the realm of dreams, that is. 

And then just as you internally reach for Jimin, as you have many times since October, a hand is brushing through your hair, stirring you awake, stealing you away from the tragedy of it all. And the sensation of iciness prickling the tips of your toes is what you feel first, the heft of the large palm on the crown on your head second. 

A tearful whimper gushes out of your throat, the awareness that you’re no longer rooted in your dream making your body squirm under the fleece blanket. The fear punctures through the flesh of your heart one more time before it escapes through the crooked center of your shoulder blades. 

And there’s a figure sitting by the edge of your bed, nestled in the arc of your folded legs and rounded form.

And it’s no longer afternoon.

You blink in the dark, try to make out what is happening and before your sleepy brain comprehends who that large figure is, your heart knows. 

Your heart smells the autumn spices of his being. Apples, pumpkin and cinnamon, despite being clouded by the wintry air. It hasn’t seen him in three months, but it knows him. 

It knows him intimately. 

“Taehyung?” your heart whispers, the sound coming out of your throat loosely, yet with a piercing pain that is greater than the fear you felt. 

The autumn boy sighs, enveloping you in the homely snugness that you missed, that you lacked all this time. You reach for his hand, blindly, finding it somewhere on his lap, and upon that first contact, he speaks. 

“Hi, baby,” he croaks out, the words new and untouched by this strange reality—as if he saved them for this very moment, keeping them deep in his clavicles all those months. “I’m home.” 

The noise that leaves you could be mistaken for a saddened sob, but it’s one of such absolute joy. The autumn boy coos, leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. The yellow light shows him to you and you discover that the autumn boy isn’t a boy at all. 

Taehyung is a man. 

Short, black hair decorates his forehead in a sweet, seemingly youthful way that is painstakingly oxymoronic. His bulbous cheeks are pallid, carrying the weight of the winter in them—new, new winter that you barely even recall basking in with him. They hold up his boxy smile, though, something that you never shall forget. And lingering your eyes there, the sight is surreal. 

So surreal that you lift a hand and caress that meaningful cheek, coloring it in a rose tint that grows warm in your palm. 

A man of all rose gardens and sculptures that are alive. 

And when he tilts his face into your touch, your heart swells to such an extent that you spring up into a sitting position and melt into him within a clasp. A warm, a real clasp. 

He’s real. 

He’s here. 

His hair is silkily soft, the tresses of an angel that takes care of flowers such as these. The skin upon the nape of his neck is feverish, as is the torso of his body that you half press up against. He didn’t feel this warm when you were wandering unknowingly in your imagination. And when you pull back to make sure that what you’re seeing isn’t that figment of that damned imagination of yours, he ascertains to you that he is real by letting his boxy smile quiver. 

It quivers; it is not frozen in place. Beautiful still, but not frozen. Quivering with the heft of all the emotions due to your reunion. 

And when you slide your palm down his chest, his two perfect lungs lift to kiss it, just to fall and kiss it again. Over and over again. 

Large chest. Large shoulders. Large biceps. 

And large eyes that melt into chocolate pools as he deepens your shared gaze, studying the way you’re comprehending his presence. He gives you all the time in the world, as if understanding that his absence was too long and, tenderly, you break. 

Tears rush to your irises while you acknowledge your soul with the principle of it all by tracing his body with your fingers. The veins of his hand, thumping under your touch, that are the roots of the trees that watch over the roses in his garden. So full of life and present time. The forearms that aren’t hidden by the tweed of his usual suits, but clothed in the plush of an off-white zipper jacket that your heart mourns. A clash of what you’re used to and the reality. 

He must have gotten off the plane at this hour. His duffel bag must be somewhere in the living room, abandoned now in place of you. 

You’re no longer abandoned. He’s here. 

You’re no longer delirious. He’s here. 

He was supposed to come in the morning. That’s what he said in your last phone call, where he let you in on what Jimin had done for the both of you. Your response to his promise in October manifested in the following months, but Jimin fought against it. Knelt before the feet of the man he’s afraid of and begged. Begged the Sergeant to make that call and allow Taehyung to have his vacation. Begged until his knees bruised and his hands left a wet print on the dirty floor. 

And the Sergeant softened, impressed by his strong will and the respect he showed him. Nodded his head and made it so Taehyung leaves by the end of the year. Did so well in North Korea, protected his military brothers before himself, the Sergeant interceded with those facts and off Taehyung went. 

Off to catch a plane in December. 

I’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, Taehyung said over the phone to you, and somehow he must’ve seen the pout that was forming on your mouth because he added a reassuring I know right after. 

You didn’t understand why he couldn’t have come a day earlier, but now you see that you didn’t have to understand it. 

Because Taehyung made it. 

He came home on his birthday. 

You press your face against the side of his, your arms back around his neck. “My love,” you whisper and gently squirm, for you feel a movement in your belly. You open your eyes, brushing your lashes across his rose petal cheek, smiling a smile that quivers just like his. That is first movement of your baby that you ever felt. The tears pour out, watering the soft skin. You kiss the pathway it created, only to stray away and go up, nudging your nose against his. Let out breaths of your overwhelmingness against him like this. Feel that your baby spoke to you, spoke in the only way it can, telling you to tell him. And you do. Finally, you do—after nearly six months. “I have a gift for you.” 

Humming, his long fingers find the back of your head, his arm caging you in as he buries his digits into the waterfall of your tousled hair, grown thicker now due to your pregnancy. 

You didn’t make any plans for tomorrow, fearful it would turn misfortunate like it did in October. And because his return is so sudden, so unexpected, telling him now feels more than right. Feels divine, feels memorable, the destiny propelled by your baby. 

Within the snug atmosphere of your embrace, you travel with your hand on a journey across his back far longer than it used to be, down his strong arm until you wind up at his fingers. You take them and place them on your swollen belly, bigger now than it used to be as well. 

Both of you changed in different ways. 

“Happy birthday,” you breathe out, the words accompanied by your strangled sobs, and just like the cafés, the Eiffel Tower and the life and the poetry of Paris in your drowsy, afternoon dream, Taehyung doesn’t say anything. 

Not for a while. 

His lungs pause. The moisture of his lips crumbles into dryness like a withering blossom. His eyelids remain unmoving, irises fixed on a spot you cannot see because you cannot stop gazing at his evident shock. 

One he begins to wake up from when the baby kicks against his hand. 

He blinks, a heavy breath gusts out of his lips, upon which he runs his tongue. He turns his head to face you, no longer smiling, but trembling. A film of wetness clouds his sparkling eyes and you think the wholeness of the magnificence of the Eiffel Tower is in them, perhaps even greater than it. And against the place the baby kicked, it rests with their small body, drawn to their Daddy’s warmth. And it is only then that your tears and his, at last and in tandem, fall out. And along with it—every stress you ever felt regarding not being able to conceive. 

“We did it?” he asks, carefully, his voice raspy, quiet and deep, wanting to hear it from you first before he looks down, and you can merely nod. He whimpers, sniffling, glancing into your eyes with such depth that it moves through you, sealing something within you. Perhaps joy, perhaps satisfaction with life, perhaps the boundless love that you feel for him, and you want to stay in this moment for far longer than time allows you. But it is foolish, this want of yours. Because when Taehyung finally looks down at your belly, it is a moment that is slowly and surely carving itself into your skin, your flesh and your bloodline. For your baby to see in the future. He fondles the rounded valley of their little body and comes to terms with it, vividly. His sobs stream out, pained but ebullient, and there his mouth cracks that boxy smile. Real, colorful, shining. “We did it.” 

You nod again, the warmth of his hand boiling, homely, so right. “We did it, Taehyung.” 

His eyes flick to yours and as they close, he closes his fingers around the back of your neck as well and kisses you. Boiling, homely, right and real. 

Not a figment of your imagination. Not your delirium, caused by your abandonment, by the other end of your love that missed him. 

This is reality. This is the present moment. 

Taehyung deepens the kiss and in it you feel the gladness of his being, the words ‘finally’ that begin to unfold down your throat, hasty to meet your baby in your belly. 

And Taehyung is hasty, too. 

Breaking the kiss, he leans down and presses his lips against that rounded valley. Peppers a hundred, a thousand, a million kisses against that part of the baby’s body. Lingers there, cheek against it, head on your thigh, and breathes. 

You let him bask in it for as long as he needs, raking your fingers through his short hair. And your teardrops fall onto his colored cheek when he begins to talk to his baby. 

“Daddy’s here, little one,” he says, his tone mellifluous, his lips brushing against their body with each pronounced word—just like Jimin’s thumb brushed against your small belly at the time when he held your hand outside of the jazz club. “Daddy loves you so much. He can’t wait to meet you, but he has to finish his military service first and then he’ll be home for good. With you and Mommy. I’ll take care of you both. I’ll never leave again.” 

You swipe away your tears from his cheek and Taehyung straightens. Kisses your lips. Kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and hugs you as if he never hugged you before, three hearts connected in that embrace when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you. 

He inhales your scent, your hair, the sleep you emerged out of, tracing patterns on your back. And then the sweetest form of interrogation happens. 

He brushes your hair back with both hands, keeping it in place behind your ears. “How far along are you?” 

You can’t halt the bloom of the grin on your face, the question reminding you of Jimin. “Five months. Six next week.” 

He reciprocates the smile, but as he begins to do the math, it withers. “So your due date is in May?” 

The corners of your mouth downturn. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully think about the time in the near future in terms of you giving birth, knowing the pain it would bring. You’re aware you should prepare yourself for it, so the worst doesn’t happen, but you also don’t want to prematurely cause harm to your baby with that stress. 

Your emotions are in shambles. They are a threat and you wish they weren’t. 

“May 30th is my due date, but it doesn’t mean I give birth on that day. I can give birth in June, too. It depends on the baby.” You laugh, softly and shortly. “Can you take a leave?” 

You can see him racking his brain, his features solemn and tense. “I get discharged on June 10th and I don’t know if the commander will allow me…” he trails off, briefly looking away before finding his way back to your eyes. “Don’t worry about that. It’s my responsibility. I’ll be here. You won’t be alone during your first childbirth, I promise you that. I’ll be here. Do you trust me?” 

Without a shadow of doubt, you do, and so you don’t hesitate to nod your head and express it through your own words. “I do, Taehyung. I trust you.” 

He smiles, the blush in his cheeks deepening its hue. “Good.” 

He kisses you, gently, and it’s a kiss of such romantic affection that you forget about the threat of the stress, the threat of him not being here during your childbirth. You melt into him, basking in the demonstration of his love for you, of the pride he feels because of the way you trust in him. You can enormously feel it all, as if it was written on his lips and you could read it. 

He’s daubed in this resplendent romance as he withdraws. Coated in sweat, he’s so refulgent that you dissolve, falling in love with him all over again. Your inner child swoons and you sense her emotions, as though you were her in the autumn of your childhood, being caught by him during a chase, surrounded by pumpkins and apples. The emotions she felt when she looked at him more differently than she ever did in her lifetime and realized that she wants to marry him and have a baby with him. 

That undreamed dream came true. And somehow that is healing her. Somehow, that allows her to rest peacefully, having drawn her last breath. 

Taehyung kisses your chin. And kisses her goodbye at the same time. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” 

You shake your head. “The doctor asks you at the five month check-up if you want to know the gender, but because you weren’t with me, I didn’t want to. My next check-up is next week, though. We can find out together.” 

You expect him to smile at that, but Taehyung frowns, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go to these check-ups all alone. I’ll go with you this time, baby.” 

The anguish you had buried in yourself deep resurfaces. Maybe that is one of the reasons why you were so delirious in October. You had to go through the final stage to adulthood all by yourself, abandoned. 

Something tells you to tell him, but shame holds you back, twisting your tongue. You furrow your brows, breaking free of the amorous eye contact you had with Taehyung, and he immediately catches onto the shadowed side of your emotions. 

He grasps it into his hand, like he so very often grips your hair. “What’s wrong?” 

You bite your lip, still looking away. “Did Jimin tell you anything about the day you were supposed to have your vacation?” 

There’s an interlude between his response and you glance at him to see him drifting through the library of his memories. With furrowed brows, just like your own. 

“I only spoke to Jimin once and he asked me if my commander allowed me to have his vacation. That’s how I found out he was willing to give it up for me, but I didn’t know why,” he says, lifting his head from the myriads of life-records, uncertainty and confusion covering his eyes. “But I didn’t get his vacation. My commander gave me a reward vacation because of what I did in the north. Why did Jimin want to give up his vacation for me?” 

The shame inches closer, scratching your back, but for your baby, you shake it away. Decide to tell him because you trust him and because you can tell him anything without the fear of prejudice. 

“Because I went mad on that day,” you start, straight and flat. Taehyung widens his eyes, but then his brows lower down, as if they were saying, excuse me? Anger eclipses his face, one that feels safe, though. “I imagined you being here with me. I planned this fun day with you and Jimin, taking you on a walk through the park on the way to the jazz club, where you kissed me for the first time. I wanted to tell you about the baby. Jimin was supposed to honor you for your mission in the north by singing, but I ruined everything. Nobody saw you when I saw you very clearly… until I didn’t.”

Pensiveness smooths out over his anger that boils, quietly. And once again, like Paris in your dream, he doesn’t say anything at all. He contemplates the information you’ve given him and the patterns he’d been engraving into your back reach their end, no longer circling on their own without his assistance. 

“Why didn’t he tell me any of this?” he asks, keeping his voice low, so his anger doesn’t touch you. “I should've known…” 

There was no contact between you and him for the two months he was on his mission, and phone calls were forbidden. It seems as though he’s dwelling on this fact as he doesn’t finish his sentence, rooting his eyesight on your lips, absentmindedly. 

Jimin said one month, but he was wrong. 

North is brutal. Too, too brutal. 

Thank God Taehyung came out unscathed. 

Another interlude of foreign, but not entirely uncanny silence settles in between and, blinking rapidly, Taehyung sighs. Brushes your hair back one last time before he takes your hands in his. A gesture of absolute genuineness, a foreshadowing to his following words. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice throaty. “I’m sorry for not being here. I’m sorry for being so far away. And I’m sorry our dream came true when I have to be away.” 

His pity cuts through you, reminiscent of your dream, and you realize that the pity you felt in that other world wasn’t yours. It was his, and the element of the inability to speak was the principle of him not being here and not being able to react. It’s all connected—your dream told you about his return and about his feelings. And you felt them because you’re a part of him, carrying his child. 

You soften, seized by it all, and you hide your face in his neck, fading into him. “It’s okay. You’re here now. Maybe it was supposed to happen now. We both changed, didn’t we? We grew up.” 

He forces you to look at him and the pity on his face breaks you. The rose petals in his cheeks died, the smooth surface now swirls with pallidness once again. His brown pools are glossy with the depth of that emotion, millions of words swimming in them. He can’t say them, he can’t catch up to them, and when he closes his eyes, presses his forehead against yours and sighs, you’re aware of how hard this is for him. 

You had five months to come to terms with this star-crossed situation. He’s barely had an hour. 

“I want to be here for you. I want to help you. I don’t want to leave you alone with the baby,” he murmurs against you, squeezing your hands to make you understand how much this means to him, and you allow the wall, which you had built up along with Jimin to keep your mind and your emotions safe, to collapse, completely. Fresh tears drip down your cheeks, your chin trembling. “Have you had any morning sickness?” 

You nod, recollecting your first nausea in the first trimester when Jimin was still around. “Yes, it started when Jimin was here. He was there for me. Until he had to go back to Korea.” 

A war flashes on his face and, right away, he lets you know which side has won. “I want to be here for you, not Jimin. Do you understand me?” 

You open your mouth in shock because you still, faithfully, remember the words he spoke to you in your imagination. Jimin is cute, but he’s strong and sane enough to protect you while I’m gone. And with shock comes the realization that the chapter ends. It is the final puzzle piece, the last enlightenment you needed—because in reality, Taehyung didn’t say those words. Taehyung didn’t give his blessing for Jimin to take care of you in his absence. Your own ego did. 

Taehyung mistakens your silence and your comprehension of that for displeasure, and he clicks his tongue in regret, sighing your name. 

“I’m glad Jimin was there for you, don’t get me wrong, but I just wish it was me. Who knows if I ever get a chance to be your partner in this again,” he spills out, truthfully, and watches as another rivulet of tears trickles down your face. He wipes them away, blinking his own away, too. “I want to rub your back, baby. I want to watch your belly grow big. I want to tie your shoes, bring you food and buy baby clothes with you. I don’t want Jimin to do that because it’s my job. It’s my duty.” 

You understood him then and you understand him now. Agree with him as that truth anchors in your heart. Jimin was kind to do what he did and you’re grateful for it. Without him, you’d be roaming in your delusions. And Taehyung needs to know that he helped you with that first and foremost. 

“Jimin wasn’t my partner in that, Taehyung,” you croak out, inhaling deeply so your sentences flow out better. “I agree with you that it’s your job and I also want it to be you. But what Jimin did was save me from my own mind. I was lost without you, pregnant and alone, and he kept those delusions far away from me. I needed that. I needed a friend.” 

Taehyung nods, understanding, caressing your tear-stained face. The color percolates back to his cheeks, little by little. And you can see a weight being lifted off his shoulders. 

Calmness expands in your sternum. 

“I will give him my thanks for that,” he settles, kissing your temple, leaving his lips there, against that intimate place. “You won’t be left alone with your mind again. I’ll try my hardest to be there for you, to keep in touch. I’ll talk to my commander. I’ll do anything. But I promise you won’t have those delusions again because you’ll be busy with me.” 

The last tears that surge out are of relief and you hug him, squeeze him in gratitude. “Thank you, Taehyung. I love you.” 

He sinks his fingers into the patterns he engraved into your back, rocking you side to side in that embrace, his lips by your ear. “I love you, baby. I’ll buy you a big house. We’ll go on a shopping spree next week and get all the things the little one needs. I’ll take care of you both.” 

You kiss him and in the middle of that expression of affection, the baby kicks again. Taehyung feels it against his own tummy and he grins and laughs into the kiss, lifting you up with utmost ease and setting your feet down on the carpet near the record player by the wall. 

And the music he begins to play isn’t of the jazz kind he loves so much. He put down a vinyl that bears Billie Eilish’s face and when Halley’s Comet sounds out throughout the bedroom, he takes your hand and drifts on the carpet with you. 

Not under the brown, dimmed lights of the jazz club, but under the yellow lights of the bedroom where you reached the beginning journey of your adulthood. And now as you dance with him, pregnant with his baby, you feel as much as an adult as a human can possibly feel like one. 

The final stage. 

Everything changes with this song. 

Halley’s Comet comes around more than I do…

Taehyung doesn’t come often, but he’s here now. Big and buff, cinnamon, apples and pumpkin. The boy you loved turned into a man that you love even more. 

From a baby boy friend to a baby Daddy. 

And as he looks down into your eyes, he asks you what names you want to give to the baby. And you whisper it to him, letting yourself be led into a dance of adulthood. 

“Perfect,” he whispers back, kissing you and staying there for as long as he needs, for as long as you need because you grip his shoulder with all your might, afraid to let him go. 

Because after he piles up your apartment with the crib, the stroller, the high chair, the diapers and so many non-colorful baby clothes that you need another set of furniture, he has to leave again. And you cry so hard that you can’t get any words out. But Taehyung hears them. He hears them in the hundreds of kisses you exchange and he hears them in the last hug you give him and in the last goodbye you say to him. 

And he comes back on May 29th, bigger and more buff than he was, prepared to be a Daddy. Spends the day moving into the new house he bought you with Jimin as his help and no one else. Paints the baby’s room pink because you’re having a baby girl that he grew his muscles for to protect her. 

His commander gave him a special leave and forbade him from coming back and finishing his service. Apparently, the man himself has five children and four grandchildren. Is a softie when it comes to them. 

And when Taehyung is done with the house and sits with you on your new couch, he announces it to the baby girl. Your home is ready, little one. You can come out now. And he laughs so hard that the delightful sound pulses through the walls, taking a sip of his soda. 

And she does come out the next day, sharing the same number of her birth date with her Daddy. Taehyung holds your hand, as calm as the spring wind, as you push her out. Breathes with you, guides you, controls your inhales and exhales. Keeps his lips pressed against your temple—and he purses his lips against the same spot on the baby girl’s head once he holds her. 

And Taehyung looks at you, and you look at him. Joyful tears fall, in tandem, with his. 

And the happy event repeats two years later. What Taehyung feared the most didn’t come true. He watched your belly grow with his second child while holding the hand of the first. He rubbed your back while you threw up the breakfast he had learned to make for you. He tied your shoes when you couldn’t bend down due to your large bump, his daughter standing beside him, watching his every move, learning about love from him. And he bought colorful clothes for the baby with its gender already in mind. 

Blue, brown, green and beige. 

A baby boy for the baby girl. A reversed picture of you and him, growing together. 

And as your babies grow together, you grow old with Taehyung, too. 

And he never leaves. Never again. 

And he buys you tulips of all colors every single week, whose sweet scent the children inhale and whose pink hues color their cheeks. And they play with Uncle Jimin until he brings them cousins to utterly fall in love with.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

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