thunderg

[thunderg]

This is such a masterpiece 💕💕 (i love everything you do)

Echoes of Love | Kim Taehyung

a/n: This is literally the longest thing I've ever written in my life ._. I really tried to do my best, I got the idea after seeing the Winter ahead teaser and I really wanted to write it (even though I thought it was going to take much longer). I wanted to give a special thanks to @thunderg, @kookiewithluv and @angellekookie for helping me with the revision, they are the best moots in the world, I adore them, I really don't think I could have finished it without their opinions :(

Resume: You and Taehyung had a passing relationship four years ago, a relationship that felt like a hurricane; fleeting, sweeping, destructive. You had left a mark on him, one that, even as the years passed, was still present, and, no matter what he did, it seemed unwilling to go away.

Warnings: It has quite a bit of angst, Taehyung at one point acts like an idiot, time shifts between the present and four years earlier, most of the shot is focused on Tae's point of view.

WC: 16.9k

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @zent9

Dividers: @thecutestgrotto

Taehyung stared fixedly at the sculpture in front of him, from the shape of its eyes to the soft curve of its lips. It was just like you, so much so that he could almost imagine the sparkle in your eyes and the sound of your laugh. He clenched his jaw as flashes of the days he had spent by your side returned to his memory—those times when you stayed up late kissing until your lips ached, or those afternoons when you went for walks on the beach to get some fresh air. It was unfair, it was painful, and perhaps the worst part was that it was his fault.

He set aside his chisel, never taking his eyes off the perfectly polished face of the one he was sure was the love of his life. He wasn’t going to gain anything by recalling the past, by getting stuck in the “what ifs” that had tormented him these past few years, he knew that. But then, why? Why was it so hard to stop thinking about you? About your voice, your touch, the way you loved so selflessly and intensely, simply... you.

"Taehyung, the exhibition is about to start. Are you ready?" Jiwon asked, crossing her arms as she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. Her navy blue suit and the firm tie of her hair contrasted completely with the casual image she usually projected. He couldn’t help but feel a little relief as he realized his best friend took her work seriously, that maybe he wasn’t as alone as he thought, as alone as he felt inside.

"I think so..." he murmured, untangling the linen apron with clumsy movements before walking to her side. "What about you? Are you ready?"

"Already ready for more than an hour," she muttered quietly, too distracted by the sculpture behind him to really answer as she should. "It’s her, right? The woman you’ve been crying over for... I don’t know, three years?" She walked closer to the sculpture, studying its features. The delicate way in which Taehyung had captured her essence, as though he had poured his heart and soul into polishing every tiny detail of her. He had probably succeeded because even she, someone who was a zero at anything unrelated to science—and emotions in general—could feel a pressure in her chest looking at your face. "She’s beautiful... I understand why it hurts so much to have lost her." She shoved her hands in her pockets and turned to him.

"It was four years, Jiwon, and no, it’s not just ‘beautiful’, she is—" He protested, clenching his fists at his sides, his gaze fixed on your face—or rather, on the portrait of it. "She’s much more than a pretty face. You never knew her, you never did, so don’t talk about her like that."

Jiwon raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile crossing her face. "Oh, seems like I struck a nerve. Did you remember something interesting?"

Taehyung swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t like talking about you; actually, he hated when others talked about you, at least when they hadn’t had the chance to get to know you the way he had. When he had presented his exhibition with the 38 pieces he had created with you as his muse. Just like him, everyone was captivated by your beauty. It was weeks of the newspapers asking him about you, his new muse, talking about you as though they knew who you were, investigating tirelessly to find you. He hated it. With the bad taste left by Jiwon’s comment, he took a silk veil to cover the sculpture with as much care as possible, convincing himself that, in some way, covering your face would protect you from prying eyes. But he hadn’t counted on the fact that through the silk veil, the silhouette of your face still stared at him, as if reminding him that some wounds couldn’t be hidden by the finest fabric. Perhaps he didn’t miss company so much, at least not Jiwon’s.

"Let’s get out of here, please," he murmured, leaving the studio as quickly as his feet would allow him. The pain in his chest grew more unbearable, the nausea soon followed, and the discomfort was hard to ignore. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure it like this, but it definitely wouldn’t be much longer.

While Taehyung hurried out, Jiwon remained in the doorway, staring fixedly at the statue now covered by the veil. Unlike what Taehyung thought, she had known her—perhaps even longer than she could confess to her friend. She took the door handle, giving the space one last look. She stopped for a few seconds, clearing her mind. The uncertainty and guilt that had haunted her for the past four years were becoming harder to bear. She kept telling herself she was doing this for his sake, or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. She clenched her jaw as she closed the door, as if doing so could choke the memories that threatened to suffocate her too, trying to leave that bitter love behind with the hundreds of portraits, photographs, and sculptures Taehyung had refused to display.

"Seriously, you couldn’t look more pathetic," Jiwon murmured, sitting relaxed in one of the beach chairs Taehyung had in the backyard of his house—mansion. The warm sun embraced her semi-naked skin, covered by a black swimsuit that accentuated her figure perfectly. Thick sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose, protecting her eyes from the scorching summer sun, while her blonde hair fell softly over her shoulders. Jiwon was, in simple terms, a beautiful woman. But her sarcastic, insensitive, and rough attitude drove away almost everyone around her. Taehyung was one of the few exceptions.

"What are you doing in my house?" Taehyung grunted, ruffling his hair as he lay down on the grass, his brown eyes fixed on the crystal-clear water of the pool. The soft itch from the grass against his bare skin made him feel a little better, a little more alive. Why did it affect him so much that Joohyun left him? Well, maybe the fact that they had been together for five years, that she had been his muse since he met her, and that she left him right when he asked her to marry him, explained the intense pain in his chest. "You should, I don’t know... do whatever it is that family business owners do, like ruining one of your employee’s lives or marrying your secretary."

"Nah, that’s boring. Besides, Jungkook isn’t my type," she murmured lazily, the summer sun burning her eyes through her sunglasses. The sensation soon began to relax her, to the point of feeling her eyelids fall involuntarily. "Now, what are you going to do with your work? You have an exhibition in eight months and you’ve barely managed to do anything other than cry over some brainless girl."

Taehyung frowned, turning to look at Jiwon. Her mocking smile and sarcastic tone fit perfectly with her attitude. They had been friends for over ten years, and he still didn’t understand why they remained friends. With the urge to throw a beach chair at her head still bubbling inside, he stood up from the ground and walked toward her, approaching with firm steps.

"Joohyun wasn’t a brainless girl. She was my girlfriend, my muse, and without her..." He paused for a moment, staring at the sky barely covered by clouds. Something in his throat was choking him. "Without her, I’m nothing."

"Oh, please, stop being so pathetic." Jiwon reclined back in her chair, taking off her sunglasses and throwing them somewhere on the floor. Her expression, though slightly furrowed, was filled with disdain, and one of her eyebrows rose inquisitively. "Since when do you feel sorry for a woman? There are hundreds of thousands of women out there who are way more interesting, beautiful, and fun than that bitch."

"Stop calling her that, Jiwon," he said sternly, clenching his teeth to avoid exploding. He didn’t like her talking about Joohyun like that, even though he knew Jiwon had no filter for her opinions. He had always been aware of Jiwon’s coldness when it came to emotional matters, especially love, but that didn’t stop the pain her words caused every time they pierced him. Part of him knew what Jiwon said was true, but another part, the bigger part, refused to accept it. He preferred to live in a world as beautiful as his works than face the harsh reality.

"I’m just telling the truth. She cheated on you more than once, took advantage of your money, and was obsessed with being the star of your works. She practically made you dependent on her!" She moved a little closer, gently tapping his forehead. "Trust me, there are a lot of beautiful girls out there who could be your muse. Just... I don’t know... go look for one."

Taehyung looked at his best friend’s impassive face, the calm in her blue eyes, as cold as ice. She would never understand him. No matter how hard she tried, Jiwon would never feel art and love the way he did. Her view was objective, superficial. And that was exactly what he needed at that moment.

"Ugh, I’d forgotten how loud these events could be," Taehyung muttered, walking with his head down, heading directly to the exhibition hall. The cream-colored hallways adorned with hundreds of high-quality paintings and sculptures made Taehyung feel as if he were at home—or at least that’s how it had been for a long time, before he met you. He still felt a certain warmth in these kinds of places, but something inside him twisted every time he stepped into a museum. It was hard to feel whole when you had lost someone you felt so drawn to.

"It’s because you’re here, stirring up the hormones of the women artists," Jiwon murmured, walking slowly, taking her time to appreciate the art around her. Unlike Taehyung, she had never sympathized with art. She didn’t understand why people admired it so much, nor did she understand how it could generate such strong emotions with just one look. But she knew he liked it, and that was more than enough to spare a few hours of her life to accompany him to exhibitions.

"Of course not, that’s—" His feet came to a sudden stop when he noticed a large painting on the far wall. At first, his mind refused to accept what he was seeing. He blinked, trying to convince himself it was a coincidence, an illusion… But every detail brought him back to that night. And then, the weight of reality fell on him, crushing him. He remembered that moment as if it were yesterday—the cold night breeze on the beach, the smell of salt, the sand against his toes, you… It didn’t take long before he felt the knot forming in his throat, growing until it made it hard to speak and breathe. That white dress with blue reflections, your long, dark hair, the moon, the night,… everyhing came back to him like pieces of a broken mirror, cutting his heart with every little shard he tried to visualize.

It wasn’t just a painting. It was the only time he had captured something more than the beauty of a muse; he had painted the love he felt, without masks or artifices. That painting was a secret, a silent confession he never intended to share.

"Oh, I don’t remember seeing this one among the pieces you submitted," Jiwon said, walking closer to read the title. "Muse?" Taehyung’s heart stopped the moment he heard those words leave Jiwon’s lips. He didn’t want that painting to be displayed; he didn’t want anyone else to see it, for anyone else to feel what he felt that night. He didn’t want to share that moment so intimate, so important to him, to both of you.

Every brushstroke was an unspoken word, an echo of that night he could never relive. How could he share it? How could he allow someone else to interpret it, feel it, judge it? With the little strength he had left, he looked at the figure of the young woman in the painting, and with a trembling hand pressed to his aching chest, he murmured, "Ask them to take it down. Now." His voice cracked as he clenched his fist against his chest, as if trying to contain something that was about to break. "I don’t want… I can’t see it here."

Despite the pain the painting caused him, he seemed incapable of looking away from it, from you. He didn’t understand—how had it ended up here? He was certain he had left it with the rejected pieces. He had spent four years hiding it from the view of any intruder, never showing it to anyone—so how?

While Taehyung wrestled with himself, trying to figure out how the painting had ended up in the exhibition, Jiwon focused on studying him, every little gesture he made. She noticed how his lips pressed into a thin line, how his chest rose and fell irregularly, how his hands trembled slightly at his sides, and, finally, how his eyes seemed to be covered by a sheen of water, on the verge of spilling a bitter tear.

It was only when a single tear traced down his cheek that guilt overwhelmed her. She pressed her lips together, her thoughts clashing against each other. She had thought displaying it would give Taehyung a push, a way to force him to stop running from his own feelings. But now, seeing his reaction, she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to present that painting at the exhibition.

The soft night breeze elegantly tousled Taehyung’s hair, a stark contrast to his bare feet resting on the sand. The cigarette between his lips and the taste of nicotine made a feeble, almost miserable, attempt to ease the pressure on his chest. The memory of Joohyun still lingered in his mind, every time he closed his eyes, every time he picked up a brush. Frustration began to irritate him, and he still had only seven and a half months left to present his exhibition.

“You shouldn’t do that, it’s bad for you,” murmured a soft voice behind him. Silent footsteps beside him made him turn to see who was interrupting his negative thoughts, but even after being able to put a face to the mysterious voice, he couldn’t say anything. Every word, every thought, absolutely everything seemed to vanish the moment their gazes met.

There was a woman next to him, slightly younger than him. She wore a white dress, very similar to the one a bride would wear on her special day. Her dark, long hair rested delicately against her back and hips, and her large, bright eyes perfectly reflected the moonlight. Every feature he focused on made her seem even more ethereal. He had never felt anything so sudden since the first time he took a brush in his hand.

“Are you okay?” the young woman murmured, her brow furrowing slightly as she tilted her head to better observe Taehyung’s face, as if looking for any wounds or signs of pain. There was something about her that made the pain disappear from his chest.

“Who are you?” he managed to say after what felt like an eternity. The cigarette he had between his lips had long since fallen to the ground, forgotten entirely thanks to the almost angelic presence of the girl.

“Me?” she pointed to herself, her eyes reflecting incredulity and confusion, emotions that lasted only an instant, for she almost immediately gifted him one of the purest and gentlest smiles he had ever seen in his life. “My name is Y/N, Y/L/N Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he murmured softly, taking in every detail of her face. The way her eyes reflected the light of the stars, how the night breeze tousled her hair, how her very presence seemed to calm the pain that had darkened his days for months. For the first time since Joohyun’s rejection, Taehyung felt inspired, as if, after months of drowning in a sea of tears, his lifeline had arrived, the one thing that could pull him from his misery. A new muse. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course! Ask me,” she tilted her head slightly, ready to listen to whatever the stranger had to say. You would lie if you said you weren’t nervous about speaking to him, not only because he was a complete stranger and could very well be a lunatic - although you were sure he wasn’t - but there was something about him, perhaps the way his eyes seemed so lost, or his melancholic aura that drew your attention, urging you to get closer to him, to understand why he seemed so… lost.

“Could you… could you be my model?” Taehyung wasn’t an insecure person and rarely justified what he said or did, but for some reason, he immediately felt the need to justify why he was asking her, a girl he had never seen before in his life, to be his model. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me, I’m not a creep or anything like that,” he hurried to say, feeling a wave of heat flood his face. “I-I’m an artist, I do paintings and sometimes photographs…” he shifted in place, anxiety gnawing at him. He licked his inner lip, taking a breath before continuing. “I have an exhibition in seven months and… the woman I was working with, my model, quit some time ago and seriously, seriously, I need someone to help me and you are…” he stopped again, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at her face again, “you’re beautiful…”

“Oh…” you said softly, feeling your cheeks warm faster than you’d like to admit. For a man as handsome as him - because yes, he was very attractive - to say that about you was… overwhelming. Even though your impulsive side, the more romantic one, screamed yes, your rational side made you reflect a little before accepting. You didn’t know him, you didn’t know his name, you had no way of knowing if it was true, and you didn’t plan on putting yourself in danger unnecessarily. “Do you have any proof that what you’re saying is true?”

“Well…” he put his hands in his pockets. He didn’t want her to see how they had been trembling from the nervousness of whether she would say yes or no. “I can tell you my artist name and, you know, you could look up my work. You don’t have to say yes now, you can take your time to think about it,” he pulled out a piece of paper from the back pocket of his pants, an old supermarket receipt he had forgotten to throw away in the past. He stretched it as much as he could, and once it was more… presentable, he wrote a series of numbers on it along with the name Vante. ‘I hope this doesn’t make me look crazy,’ he thought, ‘but I can’t let this opportunity slip away.’ “Here, this is my number and my artist name. If you like the idea, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“Thank you… I’ll look it up when I get back to my hotel,” you murmured, looking at the messy, hurried writing with a smile. His strange way of giving you his contact information might have made you a little fond of him, but you definitely wouldn’t tell him that. It would be a secret kept only for you.

“So… why do you want that painting removed?” Jiwon stood her ground, ignoring Taehyung’s request. Her playful gaze had vanished a few seconds ago, replaced by an unusual seriousness. Her hands rested casually in her pants pockets, and her gaze, now cold and calculating, stayed fixed on her friend. “Why does her memory torment you so much, Taehyung? What happened between you two?”

Taehyung, for his part, remained looking down, incapable of facing the painting, incapable of reliving the moment that would change his life forever—something he had labeled his “point of no return.” He didn’t want to be interrogated, didn’t want to answer questions about her, didn’t feel capable of doing so without breaking down into inconsolable tears.

“It’s been almost four years, Tae,” Jiwon murmured, her voice so soft that, if he didn’t know her, he wouldn’t believe it was the same person. “You won’t achieve anything by keeping all of this inside… I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t open up to me.”

Taehyung sighed, ruffling his hair in a futile attempt to shake off the frustration weighing on him. He knew she was right; he knew he had to be honest, to tell the truth, but the memories were so painful, so unbearable.

“Tae… please.” Jiwon tried to meet his eyes, her pleading gaze fixed on his now-disheveled hair.

There were a few moments of silence, seconds in which they both seemed to be debating how to proceed. On one hand, Taehyung wanted to open up to her, to tell her the truth about what happened between him and her. Jiwon, on the other hand, seemed to be debating internally whether to keep pushing or simply let it go and wait for another moment, wait until he was ready to take that step on his own.

It was just when Jiwon opened her mouth to say she’d go talk to have the painting removed that Taehyung’s voice interrupted her. “It was my fault…” he murmured in a low, trembling voice, barely holding back tears. “She… she left because of me, Jiwon. I ruined it… and I’m not even sure if I’ll ever have another chance to see her again.”

With soft yet determined steps, Jiwon approached Taehyung, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close, letting his forehead rest on her shoulder. She ran her hand through his dark hair, sighing as she felt her shirt grow damp from his tears. She lifted her gaze, noticing the large ostentatious chandelier above them. It was a trivial detail; she’d seen it hundreds of times and never paid attention to it. But now, in this moment, with the uncertainty of not knowing how to console her friend, the crystal design of that pretentious object helped her stay distracted, to maintain the calm she was known for.

“It’s okay… it’ll be okay. Whatever happened, you can’t keep carrying it alone. I’m here, do you understand? No matter how much time has passed, you don’t have to face this on your own,” she murmured softly, feeling Taehyung’s hands grip her like his life depended on it.

“If only I had… If only I’d been different, if I’d been better, maybe she’d still be here. But I hurt her. I made her leave.” The weight of his words seemed to crush him further, his voice trembling as if even the air itself refused to cooperate. He kept his head down, unable to face Jiwon’s eyes, afraid of finding pity or judgment there.

Jiwon had known Taehyung for years, had seen every side of him and accepted them all without question, because it was those very facets that made Taehyung the man he was—her best friend. However, seeing Taehyung break down like this hurt her more than any other negative trait she had witnessed in him. This time felt different; this time it felt like there was nothing she could do to help him, and that unsettled her deeply.

She wanted to find the right words, something that could take away at least a fraction of the pain that seemed to be consuming him. But all she could do was hold him, because sometimes, words weren’t enough; sometimes, all it took was silence and a warm embrace, letting them release their pain on your shoulder and simply being the handkerchief for their tears.

You walked into Taehyung’s studio, taking in the walls covered in artwork, many of them featuring Joohyun. A framed photograph caught your attention: Joohyun in an elegant, confident pose, with an air of near-unattainable perfection. A knot formed in your stomach at the thought that you could never measure up.

“She wasn’t perfect. I just learned how to capture her that way,” Taehyung murmured, almost as if sensing your unease and insecurity about his proposal.

You gave him a nervous smile, telling yourself this couldn’t go too badly... though deep down, you felt like you’d already failed before you even started. “Are you sure this is going to work?” you murmured as you watched Taehyung shuffle his things around in a clumsy and overly rushed manner.

You had contacted him the following day, still uncertain about the idea of being his model. The paintings you’d seen, the photos and sculptures—everything was truly beautiful, just like the woman who had taken on the role of Taehyung’s former model. It made your anxiety grow even more. What if his audience didn’t like his new muse—you? What if you couldn’t measure up? How were you supposed to pose? What expression should you wear?

Taehyung set his canvas in front of you, moving around the room in search of the perfect angle, muttering to himself all the while. “Relax,” he said without looking directly at you, his hands busy adjusting the lights and his materials. “I don’t need a professional. I just need someone who can give me back the inspiration I thought I’d lost. Difficult? Yes. But not for you.”

A soft blush spread across your cheeks, and you quickly lowered your gaze, embarrassed. You had no idea why you had agreed to this, but when you saw the bright spark in Taehyung’s eyes as he asked—begged—you to be his model, his muse, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

Your eyes fell on one of the photographs resting near the easel. Once again, it was Joohyun with her impeccable posture and piercing gaze, seemingly staring at you, judging you from afar. You tried to avoid catching your reflection in the nearby window, but you couldn’t stop the thought: How am I supposed to live up to this?

“But I’m not a model... I’m going to be so stiff,” you said quietly as Taehyung gently guided you to the exact spot where you were supposed to sit. Your heart raced every time you felt his presence close to you, his touch, his gaze. You were so deeply captivated by his passion for art that it was almost impossible not to feel your small, fragile heart overflow with anxiety, fear, and excitement whenever you saw him.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be a model to be someone’s muse,” he chuckled softly, seating you in front of the grand piano in his spacious home. He stepped back to where his canvas and paints were, feeling the inspiration he thought he’d lost rushing back to him in a flood of emotions he didn’t fully understand—and, for the moment, didn’t care to.

All he needed was to complete a total of ten paintings—just ten. The other works would be divided into photographs and sculptures, most of which were already nearly finished. He only had to focus on his craft, on taking advantage of the inspiration that had returned to him thanks to you, and simply… paint.

“So… do I just sit here doing nothing?” you asked curiously, lifting your hands until your delicate fingers hovered over the piano keys. You liked music and, along with it, instruments. You’d taken piano lessons as a child, so you had some skill, and playing might help calm your nerves.

“You can play something if you want…” he murmured, fumbling with his charcoal pencils, desperate to get something onto the canvas, eager to capture your beauty with his own hands. He wanted—no, needed—the world to see you, and not through just anyone’s eyes. He wanted everyone to see you the way he did: as his salvation.

“Oh… okay.” From your spot, you could see him: the concentration on his face, the way his fingers moved clumsily among the pencils and charcoal. There was something hypnotic about his passion, the way his entire world seemed to revolve around a canvas. And for a moment, you wished to be more than just his muse. Shaking your head in an attempt to dismiss the thought, you turned back to the piano, pausing for a few seconds before beginning to play a soft melody that Taehyung recognized as River Flows in You.

The anxiety he had felt, the desperation to create something at that very moment, dissipated. He still wanted to paint the scene before him—there was no doubt about that—but he no longer trembled as he picked up his pencil. His heart didn’t race wildly. It was simply… you, him, and the sound of the piano keys filling the silence between you as Taehyung immortalized the moment.

After a few minutes, Taehyung paused to observe the scene before him: your gentle gaze fixed on the piano keys, your lips slightly pursed in concentration, your hands moving fluidly to the romantic yet melancholic rhythm of the song. It was like a scene from a movie made just for him, reflecting both his pain and his fortune.

“Wait, turn a bit to the left… No, not that much.” His voice was calm, but you could see the tension in his furrowed brow. You tried to follow his instructions, though every small movement felt more awkward than the last. You were starting to get nervous, and it showed. “Like this?”

“Yes… yes, that’s good,” he replied, but his tone was distracted, his gaze fixed on the canvas as if trying to solve a puzzle. You knew something was still bothering him, but you didn’t have the courage to ask again—not when your nerves felt so raw.

For a moment, he lifted his eyes from the canvas and looked at you. His gaze was intense, as if trying to find something he still couldn’t capture on paper. “You’re fine,” he said softly, more to himself than to you, before returning to his work.

His comment threw you off a little, distracting you from your task. A sharp, wrong note echoed in the room, and your cheeks flushed immediately. Were the stars aligned today just to embarrass you?

“That was… unexpected,” Taehyung said with a soft laugh.

“Sorry, I was thinking about something else,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t apologize. It makes it more… real,” he said, his lips curving into a smile that managed to soothe your anxiety, if only a little. “I never thought something as simple as a piano could look so…” Taehyung trailed off, his voice fading into the sound of his pencil against the paper.

“So what?” you whispered. For some reason, your heart raced with anticipation for whatever he was about to say.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied quickly, but his cheeks held a faint blush. He set his pencil aside and leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between the canvas and you. You could feel his scrutiny, but this time, it didn’t make you feel insecure. There was something different in his eyes, something you couldn’t decipher.

Taehyung didn’t realize it, but in that moment, his eyes met yours. It lasted only seconds but felt like an eternity. Something in his expression made your chest tighten: was it admiration? Gratitude?

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper that hung in the air between you. His gaze remained locked on yours, dark and deep, as if searching for something he didn’t even know he’d lost.

In that moment, the world seemed to stop—there was no piano, no paintings, just the weight of his gaze anchoring you to the ground.

His hand, stained with charcoal, rested gently on yours with a softness that surprised you. It was a strange contrast: his fingers strong but trembling slightly, as if holding himself back from gripping you tighter. Something in your chest twisted—a mix of fear and hope—and for one brief, eternal moment, it felt as if the walls between you both had crumbled.

But the moment broke as quickly as it had come. Taehyung withdrew his hand, his expression closing off again as he stepped away. He gathered his materials with studied calm, as if nothing had happened. But you knew it had meant everything; you wanted it to mean everything.

Even as Taehyung distanced himself, you remained at the piano, letting the melody flow naturally from your fingers. But your mind? Your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop wondering why such a simple gesture affected you so deeply, why your heart raced every time he looked at you. Your reflection in the piano’s glossy surface stared back at you, confused and almost lost. To him, this was just work. But to you… what was all of this to you? What were you feeling? The answer scared you, but at the same time, it filled you with something new, something you couldn’t define.

"Are you feeling better?" Jiwon murmured, holding a bottle of water up to his face. She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel sorry for seeing him in such a sorry state, with wet cheeks, a red nose, and dry lips. It was probably the worst she’d ever seen him, even worse than when Joohyun had left him. But she had no idea what to do or say to cheer him up. Knowing herself, she’d probably make things worse if she opened her mouth.

"Yeah..." he replied quietly, his brown eyes fixed on an empty spot on the floor. He seemed lost, absorbed in his own world, trapped in memories that caused him so much pain and heaviness it felt like he couldn’t bear them much longer. That, Jiwon thought, had been Taehyung's greatest muse: his pain.

"I’m sorry you have to go through all of this, I... I didn’t want to cause you more trouble. I know you hate listening to people complain and all that, but... I don’t have anyone else..."

"Shut up, you’re just making things worse," he murmured with sarcasm, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere a little. Contrary to what Taehyung thought, Jiwon actually cared about how he felt, she cared about listening to him, being there for him. "Now, why don’t you start from the beginning? How did you meet her?"

Taehyung stayed silent for a few seconds, one of his hands running through his hair, which had lost its once elegant form a long time ago. He licked his lips, feeling them dry. When he looked up, Jiwon’s eyes were already fixed on him, observing him with an intensity that revealed just how vulnerable he felt.

"I... I met her five years ago... there were almost seven months left until the next exhibition and I was struggling to create new art... and then she..."

"Did you make her your muse?" Jiwon tilted her head, sitting down next to him on the step. Her friend’s nervous behavior was starting to unsettle her. Even she didn’t know why. She knew him like the back of her hand, she knew he would never harm a girl, at least not consciously. So why was it so hard for him to speak?

"Yeah..." he murmured, covering his face with both hands. He closed his eyes, letting the memories of his time with Soomin flood back: her laughter, her eyes, her lips, her skin against his. Each memory grew more vivid, like a cold stream of water. He could hear the melody she played on the piano the first time they worked together, or remember the first time he saw her smile... Everything overwhelmed his mind like a cascade of moments he couldn’t stop. "She... she was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never met anyone so beautiful... and I’m not just talking about her looks, although she was that too. I’m talking about... her." He sighed, looking at Jiwon, whose eyes reflected the desolation he was feeling. "Her essence, her soul... whatever you want to call it. That’s what made her beautiful, Jiwon, and I don’t think I’ll find that in anyone else... I don’t want to."

Jiwon hugged her knees, still looking at her friend. She thought she understood what he was saying, at least to some extent. She had seen it reflected in his works, the way he portrayed her. It couldn’t be a coincidence that in each one, Soomin appeared as an ephemeral, ethereal being.

"So, then? Why did you let her go?" she murmured, studying his profile intently. She knew Taehyung was rambling, avoiding the topic. If she didn’t press him, he wouldn’t face it, and the last thing he needed right now was to keep avoiding reality.

Jiwon watched Taehyung for a long moment, feeling how the air between them thickened. She could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged as if the weight of his sadness was crushing him. She decided not to interrupt him, though his words hung heavily in the air. The silence between them became thick, but Jiwon didn’t want to rush her friend. She knew that only when he was ready, the words would come. But when Taehyung finally looked at her, his dark eyes were empty, filled with a sadness that Jiwon couldn’t fully understand, but she felt it as if it were her own.

‘It was her who left me, Jiwon...’

"I told you I can't dance, Taehyung," you said with a trembling voice, watching as your feet wobbled unsteadily while trying to follow Taehyung's steps.

The soft jazz music filled the room, and the evening light covered them in a warm blanket that made the scene feel like something straight out of a 1950s-inspired movie, where a couple of lovers let themselves be swept away by the music, enjoying each other's presence.

The only difference was that they weren’t a couple of lovers. At least, not both of them.

You simply let yourself be carried away by Taehyung. His slow and relaxed swaying set the rhythm while you felt his soft heartbeat against your ear. Yours, in contrast, sped up, making it hard to breathe. Your steps stumbled between the softness of the music and the weight of what you didn’t dare confess, as if you were dancing on a cloud about to disappear. Every second with Taehyung felt like that to you—it felt magically unstable, a shaky ground that made you feel too good to let go.

Taehyung, on his part, felt calm, at peace, inspired. He enjoyed your presence and how easily you could make him reason, forget his pain, and move on. Feeling your hands, much smaller than his, against his shoulders made him feel grounded, and your nervous gaze and shy stutter caused a warmth in his chest that he had never felt with any girl before. Taehyung wasn’t someone who liked comparing people, but it was impossible for him not to compare the emotions he felt when he was with you and how these made him feel much more secure than he had ever felt with Joohyun. He couldn’t stop wondering what that meant, what he was supposed to do with all the emotions he was feeling. Everything felt so familiar and new at the same time, as if his heart recognized something his mind still couldn’t understand. And that disconnect scared him more than he wanted to admit.

They were each other’s refuge, their pillar. Taehyung felt free when you were by his side, and you felt protected when Taehyung was by your side. You were sure of what you wanted from Taehyung, but him? He still couldn’t fully decipher his emotions for you. How could he think about what he wanted if he didn’t even know what he felt?

"Let go," he whispered next to your ear, his fingers lightly brushing the silk fabric covering your waist. The combination of his warmth and the coolness of the fabric gave him a strange comfort, one he didn’t fully understand but didn’t want to let go of.

"It’s hard... to let go in situations like this, Tae," your fingers pressed slightly against Taehyung’s shirt in an attempt to ignore the shiver you felt down your spine when his words left his lips. For a moment, you could feel the warmth of his mouth against the bare skin of your shoulder, and it was a sensation you didn’t want to forget.

"Then let me guide you," he pulled back slightly, enough to gaze into your eyes. The eye contact between the two of you made everything feel unstable and blurry, and for the first time, you didn’t feel afraid to let yourself feel, because how could you not, when he looked at you with those warm eyes and that kind smile on his lips?

The tension between you two seemed to grow with each passing second, until you felt a tingling at the tips of your fingers and a flutter in your lower belly. The soft saxophone melody had long since faded into the background, both of you too focused on each other’s breath, the foreign heartbeat invading your ears, transporting you to a world where only the two of you existed.

"Tae," you murmured, a lump forming in your throat, your eyes fixed on his. You felt like with every word, the ground beneath your feet was disappearing, but you kept going, "I think... I think I’m falling in love with you." The words hung in the air, filling the silent space between you two.

He didn’t respond. He simply watched you, feeling the gentle sway of your body against his. His hands, now a little stiffer, remained on your waist, but his fingers began to tighten slightly, as if trying to hold onto a truth he didn’t fully understand. His lips, pressed in a thin line, trembled for a moment before returning to silence. He wanted to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat, as heavy as the feelings he was just starting to understand. His thoughts were a whirlwind, unable to find an anchor in what he truly felt, so he just stayed there, your words floating in his mind, repeating over and over, tormenting him.

And you? You just let it go, convincing yourself that he needed time. You knew it was hard to find the words for something so new. At least that’s what you told yourself, trying to silence the fear that started growing in your chest, the fear that this silence wasn’t the prelude to something beautiful, but the confirmation that your paths would never be the same.

“What did you say?” Jiwon frowned, not out of anger but confusion. You had left him? Really? Up until now, everything she had heard about you—from Taehyung—painted a picture of someone completely in love, head over heels, someone who seemed to give everything for him. So why would you leave? Something didn’t add up.

Both remained silent, the only noise filtering into the room was the distant buzz from the exhibition inside the museum. There was a certain tension in the air that neither of them could decipher, mostly because they were both focused on two very different things. Jiwon was trying to understand the torturous silence and torment that seemed to invade Taehyung every time your name came up in conversation; and he… he was trying to explain the situation without breaking apart in the process. He didn’t like remembering the past, didn’t like reliving the happy moments by your side because he knew they’d only remain as fleeting memories erased by time. And he didn’t want to forget you, didn’t want to lose you. You had left a mark on him in a way no one else ever had. Who else could understand him the way you did? Who else could play a melody as harmonious as the one you played every time you sat in front of his piano? Who could allow themselves to open up the way you did with him? To Taehyung, you were one of a kind, a treasure that no amount of money could buy or replace. If only his past self had thought the same, maybe…

Taehyung let out a sigh, softly biting his lower lip. He felt frustrated, lost, hurt… how could he put everything he felt into words when the wound was still open? Wasn’t it supposed to be that you healed first and then made sense of the situation? Even so, he tried. He tried to tell Jiwon the reason you had left. “It was my fault, Jiwon… damn it, it was my fault,” he murmured through clenched teeth, the lump in his throat growing more suffocating, his eyes burning more and more. “If it weren’t for me, she’d still be here, with me, and… and maybe… just maybe…” he pressed his lips together, looking at Jiwon with eyes full of pain, of regret, “she’d still love me.”

Jiwon observed him in silence for a few seconds. She hadn’t missed the fact that he still hadn’t told her the truth about why you had left him. So far, all he had admitted was that it was his fault and that you were the one who left, but the reason was still being dodged, and it was beginning to frustrate her. She wasn’t a patient person; she had waited four years for him to spit out whatever was tormenting him so much. She didn’t intend to give him more time—he had already had the opportunity to wallow and cry over his own misery. Now it was time to face reality, to face the present. It was about time he left the past where it belonged.

“Taehyung,” she grabbed his cheeks between her hands, perhaps a bit too roughly, but she didn’t care. She wanted to help him, truly wanted to, but time was running out, and his ramblings weren’t helping much. “Tell me right now what the hell happened between you two.”

"Then… What do you like more? Painting or music?" you asked, a playful smile decorating your beautiful face as you held a small bouquet of flowers in your hands. You had been with Taehyung for almost five months, and each day spent with him made you feel more comfortable, more at home. You were no longer embarrassed to be his model, and you didn’t mind looking at him for hours while he captured your image on the blank canvas. A few days ago, you had also lost the shame of being next to him, skin to skin, heart to heart. You had forgotten how good it felt to be with a guy.

Your eyes were fixed on Taehyung, on how the summer linen shirt barely covered the top of his body and how small maroon marks stood out on his neck and collarbone. You felt a slight wave of heat cover your face as you remembered the previous night, and all the ones before it. You could still feel his warm, rough hand on the bare skin of your waist, his soft sighs against your lips, and his eyes covered by a layer of lust.

"Hmm, I think… I prefer admiring music, and creating paintings," he smiled as he answered, letting his brush float over the blank canvas, tracing every detail of your figure, from the shine in your eyes to the pink of your plump lips. "What about you, Y/N? What do you prefer?"

"Me?" You paused for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling. You were surprised that he returned the question— you’d be lying if you said otherwise. You stopped to think for a moment. Music or painting? You loved art in all its forms, you loved going to museums and admiring the classic works that everyone knew, as well as those hidden in a corner that rivaled the beauty of the classics. You also loved music, attending recitals, concerts, seeing a live performance like The Phantom of the Opera or Hamilton— that was one of your biggest dreams. But...

A slight smile painted your lips as you thought of your answer. "I prefer to write."

"Write?" Taehyung set the brush aside for a moment, focusing entirely on you, not the beauty that so enchanted him or the inspiration you made him feel, but on you as a person. Even though you had been getting to know each other for months, Taehyung didn’t know much about you, aside from basic things like your name, age, and a few likes you had casually mentioned.

"Yes, I studied a degree in literature in Paris. Actually, I had returned to Korea the same day we met," you laughed softly, hiding the lower half of your face behind the bouquet of flowers Taehyung had asked you to use for today’s session. "I’ve always… been captivated by books and the emotions they could evoke in people, how you could get so immersed in a story just through the words of someone you've never met… I… really want to become someone who can provoke those intense emotions just with words, cross the barriers of language and culture…" You lifted your gaze, locking eyes with the bright man in front of you; his eyes so full of life, his heart-shaped lips, his messy dark hair, stained with paint from his hands. He was a work of art in itself, one you had admired constantly from the very first moment. "I guess that’s why I was captivated by you the first time we spoke… knowing that you were able to achieve everything I’ve always wanted with your art… made me see you as a role model, I suppose."

With slightly trembling hands, you set the bouquet aside, walking slowly and unsurely towards Taehyung. You didn’t stop until you were in front of him, feeling the warmth of his skin close to yours. You stretched one hand to rest it on his shoulder, lifting the long skirt of your pale pink dress just enough to raise your leg. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you positioned both of your legs around his, in an intimate yet comfortable act at the same time. You brought your face closer to his, resting your forehead against his.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, just before saying, "Anyway, I don’t think that matters… I stopped seeing you that way a long time ago."

Taehyung didn’t say anything. He rarely responded to comments like that from you. Besides, it’s not like you could say anything when his lips were against yours, his paint-covered hand caressing your cheek, leaving a trail of color on your skin as he brought his face closer to yours, wanting to feel you closer, wanting his kiss to convey everything he felt. You felt his other hand caressing your thigh, lifting your dress higher as his hand moved closer and closer to your waist.

You didn’t need words when you could feel it this way, you thought. That would be enough for now.

Taehyung was aware that he needed to speak, that he had to let out what he had been hiding for so long, even if it was difficult for him. He thought that perhaps, the perspective of someone distant and completely detached like Jiwon could give a new twist to his memories, maybe with her help, he could reflect on what had happened. But knowing what he had to do was very different from being ready to do it.

Still, despite the insecurity and anxiety that speaking it out loud caused him, he said it, for the first time, to someone else other than himself.

"I think... I think it all started after Y/N confessed her feelings for me," he said with a trembling voice, his hands shaking slightly as he prepared to tell Jiwon the truth behind his separation from you. "Everything felt too overwhelming, I was too absorbed in my own art, in what I wanted, in what she meant to my art, and..." he closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath in an attempt to avoid breaking down in tears again, "I guess I forgot she was more than just a muse for me... I forgot she was a person with emotions, with feelings..." He lifted his gaze, looking at Jiwon’s expectant eyes. "The only way I knew how to love was through my art, through my paintings... but I completely ignored the fact that... by doing that, I forgot her, I neglected her... I treated her like a replacement."

They both fell into silence for a few seconds. Jiwon observed him attentively while Taehyung seemed to be lost in his own world, lost in his memories and his own pain, in the moment when you confronted him, in how your tears started falling the moment he didn't know what to say to you, too afraid of how it might affect your relationship with him, not realizing that it was precisely that insecurity that would separate you permanently.

As Taehyung vividly recalled the day of your separation, Jiwon was trying to analyze everything he had said up to that point, trying to piece it together as best as possible. There was one doubt that lingered in her mind, one piece that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fit together. "Replacement"... did he really say he treated her like that? She was sure she had heard him use that word. She glanced at him sideways, noticing how his hands were clutching his dark hair, pulling at it in a desperate movement. She didn’t feel completely comfortable interrogating her best friend while he was in such a vulnerable state, but the unease and the urge to intervene were too strong, even for someone as controlling as her.

"Taehyung, by any chance... did you treat her like a replacement for Joohyun?" she said softly, watching every little change in Taehyung’s expression, looking for any sign that could tell her what was going on in his mind. She wished she was wrong, she really did, but the fact that he had just used that word... it was hard to think of anything else.

She knew she was right the moment she saw how his brown eyes filled with tears.

"How much longer? My hands are starting to cramp," you murmured, feeling the exhaustion weigh on you. The moonlight streamed through the window, delicately falling on your sleepy face. It was a view worthy of being captured in a photograph, but Taehyung knew that, even if he did, it wouldn't be the same. A photo couldn't express the emotions he was feeling in this moment.

"Just a little longer, Y/N, hold on a bit more," he said softly, finishing painting your dark hair. His heart raced every time his eyes met yours, noticing how they seemed to reflect the stars and the moon. He'd painted hundreds of women in the past, had a muse here and there, but no one had made him feel the way he felt right now. Not even Joohyun. "God... you're so beautiful, it's so easy to feel inspired by you."

You watched him in silence, noticing how his hands moved over the canvas, how his eyes shifted between the painting and you in a matter of seconds. You could see the adoration and admiration in his gaze, and yet, you couldn't help but feel a slight tug in your chest. The thought had been lingering in your mind for days, but the insecurity and fear of hearing his answer had kept you from asking it until now.

At least until now.

"What am I to you?" you murmured with a trembling voice, gripping the soft fabric of your dress. The pressure in your chest and the knot in your stomach grew with each passing second without an answer from Taehyung. You were scared to know the truth, scared of what his answer might be, but you needed to be sure of his feelings for you. You needed to know if he saw you for who you were or if he simply… treated you like another one of his models.

"What kind of question is that?" he laughed softly, putting aside his palette and brushes, gazing at the painting before him. It was absolutely hypnotizing, like all the ones he'd done since meeting you. He couldn't explain it, but every painting he'd done with you as the subject made him feel satisfied with his work. "You're my muse."

"Is that all? Nothing more?" You watched as Taehyung carried the freshly finished painting alongside a pile of other works he'd made since meeting you. The lack of interest he seemed to show toward your question made your heart ache. You were sure you hadn’t been imagining things; you saw the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, how every little thing you did seemed to dazzle him in a way that was almost exaggerated, as if your mere existence enchanted him. So why did it now seem like he had no interest in you? In what was between you?

"Why do you say it like that? It’s important to me," you murmured, your heart breaking a little more with every word he said. "I needed to finish the next exhibition, and I couldn’t find inspiration after Joohyun left... when you came into my life, it was like a lifeline. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there that night. I probably would’ve had to, I don’t know, post an ad on the internet asking for a model or something."

"I was her replacement," you interrupted, standing up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the last five hours. Your legs trembled; you weren’t sure if it was from the time you’d spent in that position or because of the overwhelming urge to cry, but it didn’t matter, not now, not when the person you loved had just told you to your face that you were nothing more than a tool to achieve his goal. That, just as you were, it could’ve been any random girl who offered herself. "All this time... all we’ve been through together... didn’t it mean anything to you? Did you only care about finishing your work?"

Taehyung turned to look at you, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the tears silently streaking down your cheeks. He felt his mouth dry and his heart tighten at what he had just said. He had never thought of you as a replacement, right? You were beautiful, and he wanted to capture that beauty in his work; that was it.

No. No, it wasn’t. He knew it, but still, he couldn’t deny what you had just said. There were emotions involved, of that he was sure, but was it love? Was it really love? His heart had just been broken almost half a year ago, wasn’t it too soon to fall in love so quickly? Wasn’t it unethical?

"You never said it," you said with a broken voice, your bottom lip trembling with each word that left your lips. "You never answered when I told you I loved you."

"You're really an idiot," Jiwon let out a deep sigh, pressing her hand against her forehead. "How is it even possible that you said that? Do you have a brain? Of course, you do, but it's obvious you don't know how to use it."

"I know it was a mistake, I know, believe me," Taehyung watched her get up, feeling the urge to do the same, but the numbness in his legs and the trembling in every part of his body prevented him from moving. "I've replayed that moment in my head over and over, thinking about everything I could've said, how the situation could've been different if I... if only..." He let out a sigh, tugging at his hair with force. "I loved her... I still do, I always have, but... I don’t know... I was so desperate for inspiration, for recognition for my art that... I forgot."

"What did you forget?" she murmured, watching as Taehyung's hands lowered to his knees, burying his short nails into the fabric of his suit pants. "That the poor girl, surprisingly, also had feelings and wasn't just a doll you could use for your work?"

Taehyung knew Jiwon would react this way, after all, he had thought the same thing after his conversation with you. Still, it was hard not to feel hurt by his friend's cold words, no matter how much he felt he deserved them.

"I forgot that the reason I approached her in the first place was because I loved her," he whispered after a few seconds of silence, biting the inside of his lip to keep any sob from escaping. He didn’t deserve to cry; he wasn't the victim in this situation. "I loved her, Jiwon, like I had never loved anyone in my life. She was so much more than my muse. The only reason I was able to paint was because she made me feel alive, because she made me feel like it was worth showing the world the same beauty I saw in her. I wanted the world to see what I felt, but I never thought that by doing so... she... she would leave me."

"Well, shit," Jiwon crossed her arms, pacing in circles in front of him. She felt nervous, restless, and insecure. She slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out her phone and quickly sending a message to one of her saved contacts. It was just as she pressed send that she realized something. "Wait, with what you just told me, she never mentioned anything about leaving you."

Taehyung looked up, his eyes seemed dull, lifeless, desolate, just like he'd felt over the last four years without you by his side. With one last sigh, he gave her a soft, weak smile, devoid of happiness. "That’s because she didn’t leave me at that moment, Jiwon."

Taehyung felt restless, pacing back and forth, staring at the window like a madman, desperate for any sign of you that would indicate you were still alive. It had been almost three days since your last conversation, and during those days, he hadn’t received any sign of life from you. The anxiety began to consume him like never before. Were you okay? Were you eating three meals a day? Were you staying hydrated? Were you sleeping enough? What if you had caught a cold? What if you’d had an accident?

It was just when his mind took him to the worst possible scenario when a soft "knock knock" sounded on the front door, followed by a “Can I come in?” from your side.

With his heart in his hand and his stomach almost in his throat, Taehyung ran to the door, opening it too quickly. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide his desperation anyway.

"...Hey," you said quietly, looking at him with a barely perceptible smile. It wasn’t like the smiles you had given Taehyung in the past. There was no familiar sparkle in your eyes that made him feel weak and excited, and your voice didn’t have the affectionate and cheerful tone it used to have before your last conversation. But there you were, in front of him, looking just as beautiful as always, being the pillar that kept him standing during his worst moments. “Can I… come in?”

Unable to say anything, Taehyung stepped aside, letting you enter his studio, watching as you walked gracefully and delicately through the place decorated with hundreds of paint jars and canvases of all sizes, most of them empty.

"Y/N, I..."

"Let me speak first, please," you said in a calm tone, turning to look at him. Your expression was serene, but it carried the same pain as the last time you saw each other, and that broke Taehyung in a way he didn’t even know he could feel. “I want to apologize for the other day. I think... I think I got carried away by how I was feeling, and I completely forgot that, from the beginning, what we had was only a work-related relationship.”

“No, wait, don’t apologize…”

“Let me finish,” you approached him, your steps slow and unsure. You were scared, afraid of making a mistake again, of taking the wrong path, of opening your heart once more and leaving even more hurt. But you knew this conversation was necessary. “What we had was a contract, yes,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts as best as you could, “But… I’m aware that over time, we both developed feelings for each other. I know what I felt for you, I know it was real and genuine and intense... and I know you feel something for me too. It might not be the same way I feel, but it's there; the way you look at me, how you treat me, I know it was mutual because I could feel your love for me in every moment I was by your side. I know it wasn’t my idea.”

Taehyung felt a weight lift off his shoulders. You understood, you knew how he felt even without him saying a word, and that made him feel even more captivated by you. He wanted to hug you, kiss your face, stroke your hair, feel every little piece of skin he could touch, kiss every corner of your body to show you that what you were saying was true; he loved you.

“But... I can’t allow myself to keep suffering for your indecision, Tae. I don’t want to give everything of myself while I wait for you to feel ready to take the next step,” your lashes fluttered quickly in an attempt to ward off the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. Even though you felt like you were breaking inside, you kept that weak smile on your face until the end. “I don’t plan on staying by your side, begging for the minimum I deserve…” you moved even closer to him, lifting your hands to touch his cheeks, caressing his cheekbones with great delicacy. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued, “So I’ve made the decision to leave, to... to give us some space to think things through... so that you can get over whatever it is that’s stopping you from moving forward with this... and while you do that, I... I will continue with my life... waiting for you to fix your problem... waiting for you” you whispered against his lips, barely separated from yours by a few centimeters.

Taehyung barely had time to process everything that was happening. He didn’t want to accept what you were saying, he didn’t want you to leave, to abandon him, to leave him on his own.

But he knew you were right, he knew this would only hurt them more, that he needed to separate his muse from his love for you, and if that process hurt you, then... he would have to let you go.

“How am I supposed to find you again?” he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as much as his body allowed. He licked his lower lip, feeling it getting drier and drier, “I already gave all my luck in doing it once...”

“I know you will,” your tearful eyes met his. They both seemed to express the same thing; pain, loss, love. “I trust you.”

And finally, you brought your lips to his, releasing all the emotions you had kept inside since the last night you were together.

The kiss was overwhelming, full of desperation, tears, and small sobs escaping from both of them. It was slow, soft, delicate, and felt like what a farewell kiss should feel like between two people who could have had everything but were not yet in the right place, who weren’t ready for whatever they would have to face if they were together. It was a kiss of promise, a “see you later” that kept the question of how long it would take to feel that way again.

That moment was, without a doubt, the one that marked both of them the most. That moment was the one Taehyung framed in the last canvas of his final collection; The 1.

“I feel a bit overwhelmed by all the information I just received,” Jiwon murmured, uselessly shaking her hair. Her hands seemed to tremble softly, and judging by the shine on them, sweat was beginning to cover them. “I mean, I understand what happened… more or less, but this whole situation is so… I don’t know, intense?” She turned around to look at Taehyung, who was still sitting at the side entrance of the museum. “You two sound like two hopeless idiots who have no idea how to get over your fears and differences, and that frustrates me so much. If I didn’t care about you so much, I’d probably be hitting you by now.”

Taehyung let out a small laugh. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t funny, it was just some kind of impulse, a reaction Jiwon always managed to get out of him whenever they were together. It reminded him why they were friends. Taehyung was the sensitive side of the friendship, Jiwon the rational side, and both complemented each other, which was why they had made it this far without killing each other in the process.

“I know… we were young and stupid… maybe if we had talked things through better… if only… I hadn’t been so scared to admit what I felt,” Taehyung sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He wanted to be strong, face the situation in a mature and responsible way, but it was so hard. Years could pass, but your presence and the effect you had on him… that would never change.

“Don’t bullshit me, that was four years ago, you weren’t that young and naive,” she muttered under her breath, fidgeting restlessly. She lifted her head, looking at the clear sky above them. She thought maybe by doing that, she could calm down a little, take a breath before continuing. “Okay, fine, let me…” she let out a sigh that seemed to have been held in for a long time, her gaze, usually cold and direct, now completely avoided Taehyung’s. “I have something to confess.”

Taehyung furrowed his brows, observing Jiwon’s hesitant expression, how her hands moved over the fabric of her pants, how she walked back and forth awkwardly. He could tell something was disturbing her, and it made him feel even more uneasy than he already was. “What’s going on?”

“I know her,” she murmured almost immediately, stopping to look him in the eyes. The doubt and insecurity were still there, she didn’t know if this was the right decision, but she couldn’t hide such an important detail from Taehyung either. He was her best friend, she wished him the best, wanted to see him happy, and if she could help, even a little… she would. “I’ve known Y/N for years… three, to be exact.”

Summer had arrived, and with it, all the memories you shared with Taehyung. It had been a year since your farewell, and although you were the one who decided to end whatever it was you had at that time, the pain of losing him hadn’t diminished at all. You could still vividly recall every inch of his face: his smile, his eyes, the mole on his cheek, on his nose—every tiny detail felt as close as the last time you were with him.

You had spent the past year moving from one part-time job to another, never relocating to a city too far from where you met Taehyung, holding onto the hope of running into him again as soon as possible. You didn’t feel ready, of course; not enough time had passed to move on from your relationship with him. But that didn’t mean you missed him any less—the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his work, his deep laugh, his soft voice, the way he danced to music your grandparents would listen to.

You missed everything about him, and you no longer knew how to deal with the loss. You had never officially been together, but it had felt like the most real relationship you had ever experienced in your life, even if it had lasted only a few months, even if it had left you feeling used. You wanted to go back to him, to take back your words, to see if you’d still be together if you hadn’t said what you did.

But your rational side—the side that tried to protect your heart from the pain of failed romances and relationships that could hurt you—repeated that you had done the right thing. You weren’t ready for each other, and if you were lucky, you’d find him again, and this time, he’d be ready to let himself be loved and to show his love openly.

You stared at the triangular-shaped glass sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You were almost certain it was lemonade, but you couldn’t quite remember what you had asked the waiter for, and you didn’t feel like asking. Picking up the glass, you took a sip, grimacing as an odd taste hit your tongue. It wasn’t lemonade. You cursed yourself internally for being so caught up in the past that you hadn’t paid attention to what you had said or done in the present.

“Hey! You must be Y/N, right?” A blonde woman in a black suit approached your table, pulling you back to reality and the present. She carried a leather bag over her shoulder, and resting on the bridge of her nose were black glasses that matched perfectly with her suit. Everything about her screamed “boss” and “woman in charge,” and just watching the elegant and confident way she walked made it clear she was someone decisive who didn’t beat around the bush. She was everything you were not.

“Miss Han?” you murmured, standing up from your chair to greet her properly. You were slightly taken aback when she casually tossed her bag onto the chair, but you decided not to comment on it. After a brief bow from both of you, you sat down again, facing each other. You felt quite intimidated by her—not just because she was more than ten centimeters taller than you or because of her elegant haircut and confident posture. She genuinely looked like someone who didn’t tolerate nonsense.

“Please, just call me Jiwon,” she said with a tight-lipped smile. Her cold, calculating gaze scanned you from head to toe. “So… you’re the new editor, huh?” she asked as she picked up the drinks menu from the center of the table. Her glasses were still on, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her blue eyes when she lowered her head to look at the menu.

“Uh, yes, that’s me,” you said in the steadiest voice you could muster, straightening your posture in your chair. You wrapped your hands around the glass of… whatever it was you had ordered, gripping it tightly until your knuckles turned white. Your nerves were at their peak today, and her presence wasn’t helping. Perhaps it would have been better not to come to the interview today.

“Oh, do they serve alcoholic drinks here? What a surprise,” Jiwon hummed, too engrossed in the menu to notice your panic. “I think I’ll order a mimosa… no, better yet, soju. Just one bottle. It’s been a stressful day,” she sighed heavily. Her perfectly painted red lips let out a deep exhale. For a moment, you wondered if the woman in front of you was really your boss or a runway model. She had the physique for it.

“You’re going to drink? How will you get home? You came by car, right?” you muttered before you could stop yourself. Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized you had just questioned your potential boss, someone you had only just met.

“Huh? Yeah, I came by car,” she said nonchalantly, waving over a waiter to politely order a bottle of soju and some gimbap. “See that guy at the table behind me?” she murmured once the waiter left, pointing to a young man, probably your age, sitting a few tables away. He was leaning on his hands, staring at Jiwon’s back with an overly wide smile—one of those smiles that looked like it would give him a facial cramp. “That’s my secretary. He’s the one who brought me here.”

“Secretary?” you blurted out in surprise, glancing at the guy. Did she notice the way he was looking at her right now? Because he definitely didn’t seem like the type to be a secretary.

“Yeah, ignore his stupid face. He always looks like that,” she said, resting her chin on her hands and pushing her glasses up to rest on the top of her head, where her bangs met her hairline. “Now, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Y/N?”

“Well…” You cleared your throat, trying to hold her gaze. You lasted no more than five seconds, but at least you tried. “I studied literature here in Korea, and… uh… I went on an exchange to Paris, where I finished my degree.”

“Do you have any previous work experience in this field?” she tilted her head slightly, and you swore you heard her secretary sigh.

“I edited some books for independent authors this past year…” You decided not to mention your time working at a bookstore or the other small jobs you had taken to pay rent.

Before Jiwon could comment further on your sparse experience, her secretary approached the table and handed her a phone. You caught a blurry image on the screen—it was an incoming call.

You weren’t the type to snoop, really, but it was impossible not to glance when the guy was practically offering it on a silver platter. You saw the contact name and, for just a second, caught a glimpse of the photo. Your chest tightened as you recognized the picture.

“Ugh, I told you not to interrupt, Jungkook,” Jiwon muttered before taking the phone to answer it. “What do you want? I’m busy,” she said, leaning her elbows on the table and inspecting her nails with boredom.

She spoke to him with such confidence that it made you wonder what kind of relationship they might have. Were they friends? Family? …Partners?

“Why should I care if you’re alone on a day like this?” she rolled her eyes, slumping back in her chair. “Fine, I’ll buy you one on my way home. Happy now?” She fell silent for a moment before muttering a goodbye and ending the call. “Sorry, personal issue.” She handed the phone back to Jungkook, refocusing her attention on you. “Now, where were we?”

You glanced at her phone, lost in thought for a second. They knew each other, and judging by her tone, they were close—but not romantically involved. You doubted she’d be that curt with her boyfriend. Turning back to her, you felt a newfound determination in your gaze.

She knew Taehyung. She could be the bridge between the two of you when the time came. Taehyung could find you more easily if he knew you worked for one of his friends. You adjusted your hair, tying it into a firm bun to keep any stray strands in place. You were going to get this job, no matter what.

“What do you mean by that, Jiwon?” Taehyung’s voice sounded a bit more agitated than before, mostly because now both of them were running toward Jiwon’s car, desperate to get to her publishing house as soon as possible.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I told you I know her, idiot!” She pulled the keys to her car out of the bag she was carrying on her shoulder, unlocking the doors. She gestured with her head for him to get in the passenger seat. She didn’t have time for explanations, not now, at least. I mean, it was three damn long years she needed to explain, and although she could probably give him a summary with the essentials, her brain wasn’t ready to form the timeline properly.

“Could you elaborate a little more!?” As soon as he was inside the car, he slammed the door – a bit too hard – and buckled his seatbelt, taking longer than he should have because of the constant trembling in his hands. Knowing that Jiwon knew you… that she knew where you were, that she had the possibility of seeing you again, of apologizing in person… It was just too overwhelming.

“Shut up and let me do my job as your friend,” she muttered, checking the rearview mirror to make sure no car was coming. Once she was sure nothing or no one would cross their path, she started the car and accelerated as much as she could legally do on the street… and maybe a little bit more than what was legal. “Ugh, damn it, I never thought I’d do this for you. Can you see how low you’re making me fall? I’m playing Cupid-for-second-chances, this is disgusting,” she glanced at him sideways, her eyebrows furrowing in her frown, “you owe me big time, Taehyung.”

Taehyung, still reeling from the news and scared by the excessive speed at which Jiwon was driving, grabbed one of the handles on the ceiling of the car, watching as the buildings seemed to flash by on either side of them. He swallowed, just before looking at Jiwon. “O-okay, I’ll give you whatever you want, seriously, just… could you slow down a little? I’m not sure how legal this is…”

“A speeding ticket doesn’t kill anyone,” she murmured with indifference, ignoring Taehyung’s insistence to slow down, even just a little.

Still feeling his chest tighten and his nerves on edge due to the situation, Taehyung stared intensely as the buildings became more familiar, as they got closer to the publishing house where Jiwon worked, and the closer they got to you, the more his insecurity grew.

What if you didn’t want to see him again?

“Do you think she’ll want to see me?” he murmured softly, gripping the car handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Jiwon, on the other hand, wasn’t in a very different situation. Her hands gripped the wheel as if her life depended on it, her furrowed brow and serious expression, which so often characterized her, were back, something that, to some extent, calmed Taehyung’s anxious and uncertain heart. At least one of them could keep control of themselves… even if it was just a little.

“If it’s the Y/N I think it is… then yes, she wants to.”

"I don’t get it, why do you want to work in the art section? I thought you liked fantasy books, romance, and stuff like that." Jiwon observed curiously the draft you were holding in your hands, absentmindedly chewing on a tomato and cheese sandwich. It was lunchtime, and her new employee couldn’t even take a second off from her work, and she wasn’t sure if that should make her happy or worried. At least it was fun spending time with you.

"I do like them, yeah, but... uhm... there's someone I like, and he... he really likes these things, and I just... wanted to learn a bit more about his world." A shy smile appeared on your face, your gaze dropping to the book sketch you were holding in your hands. "And, well, I wanted to know if, by any chance, someone might have written about his works in any of these books."

"Oh, I get it, you have a crush on an artist." She laughed loudly, playfully putting her arm around your shoulders. She raised an eyebrow and carefully watched the embarrassed expression on your face. "Did you have any luck finding him in any of those books?"

"Yeah..." You pursed your lips slightly, avoiding Jiwon's inquisitive gaze at all costs. "But I’m not planning to look for him... at least not yet, I need to give him time, I need to... wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?" She murmured, confused, watching as you held one of the sketches tightly against your chest. She knew that one, she had flipped through it a bit when she came to check if Taehyung appeared in it.

"Wait for him to be ready," you replied, looking at the sketch you were holding. You had seen his interview and the photos attached with it, photos of the works Taehyung had made during your time together. You had read the interview over and over again, feeling your heart race every time he mentioned you, the way he talked about you... it gave you hope that he still loved you, even though it had been a year since the goodbye.

"Wouldn’t you like to meet another guy? I know a guy, who also happens to be an artist, who I really think you’d get along with," Jiwon said with a big smile, pulling out her phone to show you a picture of Taehyung. "He’s handsome, right? Just like you see him, he's still single, he has horrible luck with women."

You laughed softly, finding the situation quite ironic. You stared at the picture for a few seconds, smiling as you saw his face again, not in interview photos or ones taken from the internet, but a picture of him, one where he looked relaxed and happy. That was the Taehyung you had fallen in love with.

"Could you give me his number?"

“Get in the elevator.” Jiwon stopped in front of the tall metal doors that almost reached the ceiling. Once they opened, she pushed Taehyung inside, ignoring his complaints and confused expressions. “Tenth floor, office 1013.” Before the doors closed, Jiwon raised her index finger, pointing it at him threateningly. “Don’t you dare screw it up this time, Kim. This time, the girl has me to give you the beating you deserve.”

And the doors closed.

Now that Taehyung was alone, his mind couldn’t help but flood with emotions and questions, keeping his nerves on edge. What if it wasn’t his Y/N? What if you didn’t love him anymore? What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you weren’t ready? ... What if you’d found someone else?

Hundreds of questions echoed in his mind as the elevator climbed to the tenth floor. He was scared, nervous, excited, tense—all at the same time. He didn’t think he could bear the thought of losing you a second time in his life. He didn’t want to.

The sound of the elevator doors opening distracted him from his internal monologue, preventing him—at least somewhat—from imagining even worse scenarios. With a lump in his throat and the fear of being rejected again, he stepped toward the door marked 1013. The door and walls were made of glass, allowing him to see everything inside the office without even entering.

From the outside, everything seemed to be in order. A large bookshelf filled with books, mostly hardcovers of various colors and sizes, stood prominently. A tall lamp rested in one corner of the shelf, while a beautiful plant in a decorative wooden pot occupied the other. The desk appeared impeccably neat, with only a few colorful, patterned pencils resting on its surface, alongside a yellow notepad and several sticky notes of different colors and sizes.

He scanned the room for any sign of you—or at least something to confirm this was indeed your office—but there was nothing recognizable, except for the almost obsessive orderliness of the space. He knew you had a sort of OCD when it came to organization, at least in work-related matters. He still remembered how you’d almost panicked at seeing just one thing out of place in his studio, or how you’d arranged all his paints by color palettes to make his work easier. He hadn’t changed that arrangement in four years…

“Excuse me, can I help you with something?”

Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of a soft voice behind him. It was you; he was sure of it. He could recognize that voice anywhere. Suddenly, there were no more depressing or pessimistic scenarios, no more voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea, or memories pulling him back to the moment he had been with you. Now, there was only silence, and the single thought that you were standing behind him.

His chest ached, each breath he took feeling tighter against his ribs. Everything around him seemed to shrink, suffocating him. He wanted to turn around, wanted to see your face again, but fear and insecurity made it difficult. He had imagined this exact scenario in his mind over and over—every morning when he woke up and every night before falling asleep—so why? Why was it so hard to speak now that he could finally see you again? Now that he had the chance to make things right?

“Are you okay?” Your voice carried a layer of worry and uncertainty. Your hand gently rested on his shoulder, trying to make him turn around so you could confirm he was alright. You didn’t usually receive many visitors—apart from Jiwon and Jungkook—and this floor was exclusive to certain employees. You were sure he wasn’t one of them; you’d never seen him here before.

While you tried to make the man in front of you turn around to ask what he was doing there, Taehyung was trying to control the erratic beating of his heart, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm it. He had wanted this moment to come, had yearned for it since the day you walked out of his studio four years ago… but that didn’t make it any easier.

A part of him wanted to give up, to run, to prepare himself better for this moment. But another part… didn’t want to leave you, didn’t want to lose you—not after knowing what life felt like without you. He still remembered some of the moments you’d shared together, moments that made him question why his love life had always been so complicated.

Just coworkers wouldn’t sleep together, wouldn’t bring each other breakfast in bed, wouldn’t dance at sunset, pressed tightly against each other, feeling the warmth of their bodies as one. They wouldn’t kiss… coworkers wouldn’t take each other to the edge of pleasure every night until their last “project” together. And he knew it.

He didn’t want to lose that again, not now that he had the chance to get you back. So, for the first time in his life, he decided to take the leap.

“I… I’m fine,” he murmured, his voice sounding rougher than it usually was, yet still retaining its essence. And that was enough for you to recognize it.

When he turned around to finally face you, it felt as if the past four years had never happened. You looked just like the last time he’d seen you—maybe a little older, and your once-bright eyes now seemed a bit more serious—but you… you were still as beautiful as ever. You still made his heart race uncontrollably, just like you had four years ago.

“Tae?” A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening slightly in surprise at seeing him there, standing in front of you. Your hands started to grow cold and clammy, and you couldn’t stop the warmth from rushing to your cheeks. You knew this day would come. It was why you’d joined this company, why you’d accepted the number Jiwon had shown you, why you’d kept your promise and waited for him all these years. Yet you’d never truly believed the day would come when he’d find you, when he’d finally come back. “You… you came back.”

Hearing his name from your lips was a shock he hadn’t expected to hit him so hard—but it did. Some things didn’t change, and one of those was the effect you had on each other.

“I need… I need to talk to you. Are you free?”

Both of you walked in silence toward the small yet elegant café located on the top floor of the building. Neither of you seemed to dare to speak first; you were still processing the fact that he had come all the way to your workplace to find you, and Taehyung was too preoccupied organizing his thoughts, repeatedly rehearsing all the things he wanted—no, needed—to say to you. Neither of you wanted to ruin this reunion.

“We’re here,” you murmured softly, glancing at Taehyung out of the corner of your eye. Your fingers fidgeted with the fabric of your dress, trying to mask the trembling in your hands. You didn’t expect a reply from him; you simply led him to a table near the balcony and took a seat in one of the four chairs around it.

Taehyung sat across from you, clasping his hands together on the table, lightly scratching the skin of his fingers. He felt anxious, worried, excited—and didn’t know how to express everything he wanted to say. He hesitated for a few seconds, seconds in which he barely looked at you, barely breathed properly.

At least he was lucky that you were a patient person.

“Y/N, I… damn it, I’m sorry, let me…” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was. His gaze darted around, struggling with all his might to verbalize what he had wanted to tell you for the past four years. He licked his lips, and the table shook slightly as his restless leg bumped against it. He tried, even a little, to hide the anxiety that overwhelmed him, but his body wasn’t cooperating at all.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You tilted your head, tentatively reaching out to take his hands, wanting to offer at least a little comfort. You didn’t want to rush him, not if it would make him even more nervous to the point of being unable to speak. “Take your time.”

“I can’t, damn it,” he sighed in frustration, holding your hand between his and giving it a gentle squeeze, as if he needed to remind himself that you were there, with him. “I’ve already spent too much time thinking about this. I’ve practiced hundreds of times what I was going to say when I saw you again—why is it so hard to do it now that you’re in front of me…?”

You watched him in silence, feeling your heart tighten in your chest at his words. He had thought of you all these years, just as you had thought of him.

“The last time we saw each other, I… I was a jerk, a complete idiot. I knew what I felt for you—of course, I did—damn it, I’m sure I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he licked his lips, keeping his gaze low. He felt incapable of meeting your eyes, of facing the possible rejection from you. “I should have told you then, but I was so scared… I thought that if I did, sooner or later, you’d leave me, just like Joohyun did. I thought that if it ended like that, I wouldn’t see you the same way again. And I was so damn obsessed with the intense inspiration you gave me just by existing that I completely forgot why I felt that way. I forgot that I loved you…” He lifted your hands, still trapped in his, and pressed a soft kiss to them, something barely perceptible, cautious. “I didn’t come here to ask for your forgiveness, because I don’t feel I deserve it—not after the way I made you feel. I just… I just wanted you to know that you were never just a muse to me—you were… you were everything.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat, feeling your eyes start to sting. Four years had passed, and finally, you had heard what you had longed to hear from him. Warmth filled your chest, and in an instant, the weight you had been carrying seemed to lift. The soft kiss you had received from him made you feel like that twenty-year-old girl again, meeting him by the seaside the same night you had returned to Korea.

“Tae… could you look at me?” you whispered, eyes fixed on his dark, tousled hair from the countless times he had run his hands through it that day. A few seconds passed, and he didn’t move or say anything, as if it were too hard for him to face you after the outpouring of words he had just let out. And it truly was hard for him; what would he do if he saw rejection on your face?

But that wasn’t the case.

When he finally looked at you, he couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his body or the faint sting in the corners of his eyes. There you were again, smiling at him as if he hadn’t broken your heart years ago, reaching out to gently touch his cheek in the softest, most delicate way possible, treating him as if he might break at any moment.

“Thank you for being honest with me…” you said. Your tone was much more relaxed than it had been minutes ago. The hand resting on his cheek slid down to his jawline, and your eyes studied every corner of his face that you could see. You had missed him more than you realized. Seeing him in photos wasn’t the same. Hearing about him wasn’t the same.

Taehyung observed the smile on your face, trying to understand why you weren’t angry, why you didn’t want to yell at him, hit him. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen after everything that had happened between them? Weren’t you supposed to hate him? To move on with your life and leave him behind? That’s how it was supposed to work, right?

“I thought… I thought you’d hate me for taking so long,” he murmured softly, bringing his hand to rest over yours. At this point, it was impossible for him to take his eyes off you. It almost felt like you had cast a spell on him, one he refused to break free from.

“I promised I’d wait for you,” you gave him a smile so radiant, so full of emotion, that he couldn’t help but feel a weight lift off his chest as a small smile began to spread across his face.

With the ache in his chest slightly lighter and with a bit more confidence, Taehyung dared to ask the question he had been waiting to ask all this time. “Should we… start over?” The hand still holding yours stretched, intertwining his fingers with yours, feeling your warmth against his skin. It felt right to experience that sensation with you again.

“No.” You shook your head, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as your smile grew even bigger. “I don’t want to forget how I fell in love with you,” you murmured, running your thumb over the skin of his hand, trying to get used to the sensation of his touch against your fingers once more.

A soft laugh escaped Taehyung’s lips. His eyes still felt misty, but this time for different reasons—this time, out of joy, out of happiness. “God, you’re so sweet,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips again, this time with your fingers intertwined. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, a soft smile meeting them. “Alright, then no starting over.”

“Yeah.” Warmth crept up your cheeks, and you had to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from smiling even wider than you already were. “Can we… pick up where we left off last time?”

Taehyung watched the pink on your cheeks spread to your neck and ears, the way your eyes sparkled as they looked at him. He loved having you in front of him again, and he loved that he could still have this effect on you even after all this time—because you still had the same effect on him.

With a gentle nod, Taehyung leaned closer to you, never letting go of your hand. He could feel your soft breath against his, your noses barely brushing, his eyes fixed on your lips. He had waited four years for this, and he still couldn’t believe it was about to happen. It felt almost like a dream, one he had been having for 1,460 nights in a row.

The goodbye kiss they shared had been painful—perhaps the one that had marked them both the most in their entire lives. But this? This would undoubtedly leave an even greater mark than the last. Feeling your lips against his, the faint taste of coffee, the sensation of your hair brushing against his fingers, your soft sigh of relief, and their light laughter colliding as they tried to deepen the moment made him feel like an inexperienced teenager again. But it felt good—more than good—it felt perfect.

When they parted, just a little, only enough to look at each other, Taehyung decided it was time to say the words he had held back for so long—this time, without fear, this time, without waiting for you to say them first.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as you leaned forward to kiss him. “More than anything in this world.”

You let your head rest against his hand, closing your eyes under his touch, smiling softly. You felt happy, overwhelmingly happy.

“I know,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. “I love you too.”

Masterlist.

[thunderg]

Sweather Weather | Kim Taehyung x Reader

a/n: Hi! if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Fluff, Normal au, Soulmates.

Warning: None...i think.

Wc: 1412

The store was quiet. It was noon, which meant there were no customers, allowing him to work with serenity and pay attention to the smallest details: the smell of the flowers, the soft ray of sunlight illuminating the room. He was in his element, so much so that he allowed himself to hum a song while preparing an order for one of his clients.

Taehyung had always loved flowers. He knew some considered it unmanly, but he didn’t care anymore, not when this job allowed him to be surrounded by beautiful things.

–Must be something~ –he sang as he placed the arrangement on the table.

Since he was a child, he had felt a special fascination with beautiful things. It wasn’t an obsession, but his appreciation was so evident that it was impossible to ignore. His mother often told him that in a past life, he had been an artist. Although said lightly, that statement always stirred up a strange feeling in him, a kind of nostalgia he couldn't quite understand.

He never wanted to investigate why he felt this way. He believed in cheesy things like fate, and hoped that someday, fate would clarify the doubt that tormented him. Yoongi, one of his older friends, had always thought his beliefs were stupid and childish. It wasn’t that the man was bad, he just... had very strong opinions. If you didn’t get along with him, you’d never earn his favor.

On more than one occasion, he had tried to convince him that things like love at first sight weren’t as pathetic as he thought. Of course, he had wasted an entire day of his life on the attempt. Fine, maybe he was a little stubborn on the subject, but who could blame him? His love for beautiful and cheesy things had grown so much that, by now, it was impossible to ignore—even for himself.

It was almost sad that, despite being someone well-versed in all the things women supposedly liked, he had never found the love of his life. Sure, he’d had a girlfriend or two, but nothing special, nothing that made him feel those butterflies in his stomach that everyone talked about. He longed to smile like an idiot just thinking about that special person.

Every day, he had to watch people get the things he longed for, with the bouquets he put so much effort into. Was he cursed? Was he so unpleasant to the female population? He sighed, defeated. It wasn’t worth thinking about, he tried to convince himself. However, this whole issue tormented him more than anyone would care to admit. Dying alone didn’t sound appealing at all.

The sound of the bell at the front door interrupted his train of thought. He lifted his head, almost gasping when he saw who entered the store. Damn, had he died or was he seeing an angel? The strangest part was that her face looked oddly familiar. Was she a model? It didn’t matter, his heart was racing, his hands were sweating, and his throat had dried up. How would he speak to her in this state?

The girl timidly approached the counter. At moments like these, he regretted not having hired someone to help him. She was so beautiful that it made him want to flee to the farthest corner of the room. He mentally prepared himself to be disappointed, to hear that she just wanted to order a bouquet for her cute, rich European boyfriend with golden retriever vibes. He almost scoffed at the thought.

–G-Good morning –she murmured, quickly correcting herself when she saw the clock on the wall–. Sorry, good afternoon.

Taehyung bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a smile. She was so adorable, embarrassed. It made him want to scream with joy. He took a deep breath and put on his commercial smile.

–How can I help you, miss?

The young woman nervously fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

–W-Well, I need a flower arrangement.

Here it comes –he thought–: "for my boyfriend." He was already ready to dismiss his fleeting crush.

–My friend’s boyfriend is having a dance recital, and she asked me to buy some flowers here.

He gave a soft clap, unable to contain himself. To his relief, it passed off as excitement to start working.

–What flowers do you need? Do you have something in mind?

She clumsily took out her phone, almost dropping it in the process.

–She needs lilies and pink peonies, with a card for a message… please –she said, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes.

Done. Now he was a puddle melted by this girl’s cuteness. How could someone be so beautiful and yet so adorable? It was unfair.

–Right away, miss.

As best as he could, he gathered the necessary flowers for the bouquet. He bit his lip; this bouquet had to be perfect. He didn’t want to look like a fool in front of her. He wanted to curse when he saw his hands trembling. This would make the task more difficult. He took a deep breath; he could do this, he had been doing this for years. He adjusted his glasses and continued. Once he managed to make something decent enough to justify the years he’d spent working, he took a card—small, discreet, just enough to be pretty. He grabbed a pencil and then looked at the girl.

–Alright, what should I write? –he asked.

She blushed furiously as she checked the order for her friend, avoiding his gaze in the process.

–G-Glad to have you by my side... –she swallowed nervously and whispered something more.

–Could you repeat that, miss? I didn’t catch it.

–I said… or have you on top of me, whichever you prefer.

She covered her face, letting her hair fall like a waterfall, as extra protection for her gaze, visibly embarrassed by her friend’s message. This time, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

–Wow, your friend is original –he smiled as he finished writing the card.

The girl stammered an apology, clearly embarrassed. He gently shook his head, amused by the situation, but when their hands brushed while he handed her the bouquet, a sensation hit him like lightning. Suddenly, images that didn’t seem his own but were terribly familiar formed in his mind: the sound of rain hitting the windows, a warm hug, a kiss that seemed to contain all the love in the world.

In that memory, he was hugging her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, where the soft sweater of the girl cushioned the contact. Her scent made him feel at home, and her presence filled him with a calm that made him drowsy. The gentle tapping of the rain accompanied the moment, while she, in silence, tenderly stroked his hands, enjoying both his company and the warmth he provided.

–I’m freezing, Tae. You shouldn’t hug me, you’ll get cold –she murmured, concerned.

–It doesn’t matter, I like being able to share my warmth with you –he responded with a calm smile. He loved knowing that, despite how old and worn-out his sweater was, it could still keep them both warm: him and the person he loved.

He took her chin and kissed her as if it were the last kiss they were going to share. And even if it were, Taehyung was sure of one thing: even if a thousand lives passed, he would make sure to find her in each and every one of them. His soul and his body belonged to her completely.

He regained his senses when he heard the girl shriek in surprise at the accidental contact.

–What was that? –she asked, stunned, while taking a step back.

He looked at her with a mix of amazement and happiness.

–We’ve found each other again, darling –he said with a soft laugh.

Suddenly, everything made sense. His purpose in life, all those inexplicable passions and desires. Everything clicked when he saw her again. He felt complete, as if the missing piece of his life had finally found its place. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, as if everything he had been searching for in his life had finally made sense. His heart was beating fast, but also with an unexpected calm, as if he were finally in the right place, with the right person. He would never be alone again, nor would he have to long for the ghost of a memory. She was there, in front of him, looking as unreal as the first time. And although he still didn’t know what would happen next, he was sure of one thing: he wasn’t going to let her go this time.

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Hi, I was looking at my drafts (because the one shot I was writing is a bit stalled) and…. Is there anyone here who would be interested in reading a write-up/one shot of the Until Dawn game (but with BTS)? It's something a friend and I have done, nothing very developed, but it's what I have.

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Hi! I know I’ve been absent, I’m really sorry about that. Lately, I’ve been super busy with exams and stuff, but I promise I’ll have some content for you soon. Again, I’m so sorry, and thanks so much to everyone who’s started following me! 💕

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Wildest Dreams | Min Yoongi x Reader

a/n: Hi! if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Acting au, Forbidden Love.

Warning: Mention of Violence, "Cheating" (from Yoongi)

Wc: 1068

Yoongi looked through the crowd of people looking for them, he knew it was stupid to do so, that whatever had happened between the two of them should have been something from that moment, but his stupid heart hadn't absorbed it the way he wanted it to, he wanted to see the redhead so badly that he could already feel his hands trembling at not being able to find her.

"Is something wrong, honey?" Minah, his girlfriend looked at him with ‘concern’, she knew that the last thing she felt at that moment was interest in what he felt, she could see through that mask, she was only interested in him not embarrassing her in front of all the people and the press.

"No, it's alright, don't worry" he denied, trying not to look at her too much, just seeing her made him sick, he knew she was with him for the fame and money he could give her, but no doubt he thought it was pathetic how far she could go.

It was clear that he was trying to imitate the girl who had stolen his heart so abruptly in his last film, he had red hair and green contact lenses, even his clothes tried to resemble her as much as possible, but of course he looked like a cheap imitation to Minah, even with the most expensive clothes in the shop.

She pulled him towards a reporter, eager to brag about her boyfriend and how 'beautiful' she looked that night, she almost rolled her eyes at his action, she didn't even remember why he was still with her, maybe it was a habit? She didn't know, and the truth was, she didn't even want to think about it.

"How are you feeling on this beautiful night?"  the man asked, holding his microphone close to their faces.

Without even being able to process it, he replied "I feel like throwing up" eliciting an uncomfortable laugh from the reporter, for this was partly what he had become famous for, his terrible honesty, as the girl next to him would describe it.

He bit his lip, holding back a whimper of pain, Minah had never been one to show her displeasure gently, she always did the same thing, pinching him with those long plastic nails she wore, her skin so sensitive that when she left a party he could see little bruises on her arms.

"I'm sorry" The girl laughed "He's a bit nervous tonight"

"That's understandable, I understand this would be your biggest production so far, right?" Yoongi could only feel sorry for the poor man, he didn't feel like answering the typical questions.

He nodded slightly and turned to leave, "Oh, Miss Y/LN has arrived" Finally, the reporter said something interesting.

He looked out, there she was, getting out of a limousine, looking so beautiful that he felt like he was going to lose his breath, he longed for the days when he could hold her in his arms without fear of anyone seeing them, he missed those little freckles that adorned her cheeks, he wished he could go back to that time when he could kiss her as much as he wanted.

These months at her side had been the happiest moments of his life, he didn't care if it was a beautiful place or if he was supposed to be 'professional', all this structure bored him, he had more than once talked about how being an actor had never really been his dream, he had wanted so much to hide from the public eye that in circumstances like these he felt like a hypocrite.

But when he met her, he couldn't even remember the awkwardness of the situation, in fact, with her he felt capable of everything he hated or feared, with her by his side he felt seen, as if his presence in the world finally had a purpose, he was no longer destined to wander the world in search of his destiny, but of course all good things must come to an end.

He still remembered the last words she had said to him in the hotel room they shared, “I bet these moments together will haunt you, you'll remember me in your wildest dreams', at the time he hadn't wanted to accept it”, but she was damn right, he couldn't go through a single night without dreaming of her in his arms, tangled in the sheets of his room as the light of the sunset illuminated them.

Without caring about anything else, he approached her and held out his hand, the surprise in Y/N's eyes could not go unnoticed, she pulled herself together as fast as she could, Yoongi almost groaned at the feel of her skin against his, he had missed her so much.

"You know everyone is watching us, don't you? " She commented nervously, she knew he didn't care about the rest, but she did care about him, about how bad he might feel reading the snide remarks that would come out when he saw her like this.

"Stop thinking about them and concentrate on me" Yoongi cupped her chin gently, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss her again, he had become addicted to her.

For a second he allowed himself to get lost in her gaze, she was doing things to him he never thought possible, shit, he felt like a teenager again, his hands were sweaty and his heart was racing, nervous to be with the girl he liked, he swallowed, the last thing he needed at this moment was to be portrayed with an embarrassing blush on his cheeks.

"It is impossible not to" she whispered, staring at him, stroking his jaw gently, almost as if he were an illusion created by her mind.

He brought his hand to her lips and kissed her with all the affection reserved only for her, it was more than clear that the kiss they both longed for would have to wait a little longer, but to see her again, to feel her skin against his, that waiting no longer seemed so tedious and pointless, He, Min Yoongi, was the luckiest man, he could say that he had the most beautiful woman in the world by his side, and maybe if they gave him a little more time, he would soon say that he had the most beautiful girlfriend in the world, the best? At last they belonged together, that was their destiny. 

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By your side...Or no? | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

a/n: Hi! This is some sort of drabble of the Jimin's one shot, but it can be read it by itself, and remember, if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Non Famous au, Fluff, Angst, Unrequited Love, Reader is older than Jk.

Warning: Mention and act of violence.

Wc: 1268

Jungkook had always admired Y/N. Who could blame him? She was beautiful, strong, independent, and capable of overcoming any obstacle that came her way. She was simply perfect.

He had always been aware of his feelings for her. After overcoming the shyness of his adolescence and a traumatic experience he didn't want to remember, he always expressed his feelings to her without hiding them.

This led to constant pain over the years. Y/N was firm in her decision: she did not love him and hopefully saw him as a friend. It hurt, of course, but it was nothing new to him. So, as an unwritten tradition, he tried every year.

Each time he was rejected, not cruelly, much to his relief. He supposed that was one of the advantages of knowing each other for so long. She would never be mean to him. She rejected others with indifference, but not him. Sometimes he felt the 'inferior' label haunting him, but he didn't want to get depressed. Not now.

He just wanted to enjoy time with his Noona; he felt lucky. Anyone who tried to approach her was quickly pushed away in anger. But he was brushed off as if he'd been given the wrong order in a restaurant. That should hurt less, right?

Despite everything, he focused on being better for her: studying hard, exercising, learning to relate, maturing, basically. He became the perfect gentleman (according to his mother and Y/N's friends). But apparently he wasn't enough. Maybe he never would be.

In retrospect, it sounded sad, and perhaps it was, but he had no regrets. Nor did he regret what he had done. It had all helped him to be better. But after so many years, he felt exhausted. He had loved unreservedly.

But he didn't want any more pitying looks and the typical 'I'm sorry, Kookie, my answer is no'. So he made a decision: he would finally let go of Y/N. He didn't think she would stop him, let alone miss him. So he did what anyone his age would do: he went to a pub.

Well, it wasn't the best idea, but this time he wasn't responsible for the stupid decision. Although the idea of forgetting Y/N had been in his head for months (about five), he had only decided to do it two months ago. He stopped calling her, sending her good morning messages, and asking her if she had eaten.

Sure, he still greeted her when they passed each other, but he no longer pursued her for her attention. He didn't know if that really mattered to her, but it made him feel good. He loved her, sure, but the feeling wouldn't go away as easily as waking up one day and saying, 'Y/N isn't for me anymore'.

But the desire was there. He knew his Noona would be happy that he would finally stop bothering her. He thought that everyone would win: he would stop suffering, and she wouldn't have to deal with unrequited love.

Sure, Y/N seemed a bit out of it, but Jungkook had promised himself and her that he would stop meddling in her affairs. So, on the advice of his older brother and Jimin (who had actually convinced him because he was going to pay), he decided to go to the pub.

He talked and danced with the odd girl—nothing crazy, just testing how prepared he was for the situation. No one was interesting enough to stay for more than five minutes.

Until, suddenly, things got complicated. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but he knew one thing: Jimin Hyung needed his help. Scared, he quickly called the police. He knew how to box, but he didn't want to get into trouble with anyone.

When they arrived, he decided to follow them, as he was the only one who was willing to testify against the boys. He didn't blame Jimin; he was probably worried about the girl he had seen him with. He sat in the cold room and talked quietly with the policemen.

There was no need to despair. Everything was on tape, and his statement would only confirm what was already suspected. What he hadn't anticipated was how long it would take, not to mention the fact that he had no money to return.

He sighed heavily as he left the interrogation room. He had missed a few calls from the boys and one from his brother. He wasn't worried—he assumed they had solved Jimin—but he was anxious to get home. And foolishly, he found himself going to the one person he had most avoided bothering...

He sent a short message, trying not to give too many details. He received a short reply. He wasn't surprised at how short it could be and just replied with 'Coming'.

Not more than five minutes had passed before she arrived, visibly annoyed. -What the hell have you done?- She then looked at the policeman standing next to her "What do I have to do to keep this idiot from getting arrested?"

The policeman stepped back in surprise. "Nothing, the boy just needs a ride home"

Y/N sighed in relief. She frowned at Jungkook. "Come on, don't waste my time anymore" She held out a helmet and walked quickly to her bike.

Jungkook felt like the worst scum in the universe. He had annoyed his Noona so much that she hated breathing the same air as him. He put on his helmet. What else could he do? He didn't want to annoy her any more.

The silence was terrifying. Sure, you can't talk much on a motorcycle, but Jungkook knew that she was boiling with rage right now. Especially the way she was shaking in his arms. When they got to Y/N's house (because yes, he had to explain why he couldn't go to his), the worst came.

"Are you stupid?" She shouted in annoyance. "Why don't you answer your bloody mobile?" Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice cracked, unable to contain them.

Jungkook couldn't believe his eyes. He never thought he'd see his Noona cry, let alone worry about him. He may have been naive, but he saw the worry in her eyes, in her trembling. And it tore him apart. She collapsed onto the couch, covering her face with her hands.

He sat down beside her and hugged her, apologized. It wasn't like he could have answered his phone in an interrogation, but she didn't need to know that. He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. She clung to him for a while. When she calmed down, he pulled away slightly.

"You had me so worried, asshole" she whispered angrily before slapping him.

He deserved it, that was for sure. But before he had a chance to rub himself, she clung to his shoulders and kissed him, conveying in that kiss all the relief of having him close and of feeling him there with her.

They only parted when they felt they could no longer breathe. Jungkook couldn't help himself and smiled broadly "Wow, Noona, if I had known that not answering you was enough to make you kiss me, I would have done it a lot sooner"

She hid her face in the crook of his neck and held on so tightly that she almost took his breath away. Jungkook wasn't sure what the future held for them, but he knew one thing: his Noona loved him more than he wanted to admit. And that was enough for him.

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I Can See You | Kim Taehyung x Reader

a/n: Hi! if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Angst at the end, Tension, Zombie au, forbidden love.

Warnings: Open ending

Wc: 1049

Tae smiled when he saw the girl in the distance, she was so beautiful it took his breath away, he looked around, nobody was looking at him so he took advantage of this strange opportunity, they were supposed to be from enemy sides but he didn't care.

They met once a year to see how many casualties they had and to share knowledge and reserves, all very reluctantly of course, they had different ideals but they had to survive, so the less they saw each other the better, if he thought about it too much it hurt him not to be close to the girl.

Despite what everyone thought, he had nothing against them, while he didn't believe there could be a soul in those things called zombies, he wouldn't judge those who thought differently, but he didn't have much weight in the matter either, thanks to his group he had managed to survive the atrocities they had gone through, so he wouldn't let them off that easily.

He left a piece of paper in her hand, trying to look as disinterested as possible, it wasn't the first time they had done this, but every time he handed her the note he was afraid she would reject it, once he left the place he could take a deep breath.

Y/N saw the note, she sighed nervously, she couldn't say no to him, she always promised herself that this would be the last time, not because she didn't like him, but because she felt so guilty for seeing him behind her group's back, she had never been one to break the rules, so this was beyond her limits.

He walked down the long corridor of the abandoned church, it was one of the few safe places left and it was big enough for everyone to be in the place without having to be on top of each other, it had been set up as a neutral place for the two communities and the biggest advantage Taehyung had found was the multiple passages and corridors.

As she watched Y/N walk down the long corridor, he tugged gently on her hand, the girl held back a cry, sometimes she forgot how naughty the boy could be when he put his mind to it; he grabbed her waist, coming dangerously close to her face.

"Do you miss me, darling?" The boy smiled in amusement as he kissed her cheek lovingly.

"Tae, you scared me" She avoided his gaze, embarrassed, despite all the time they'd spent together, she couldn't get used to his look.

"I'm sorry darling, I couldn't help it, you looked so beautiful" He watched her carefully, shit, it had been so many months since the last time.

So much time had passed that she had feared the worst, with no news, not even from her group, it had been terrifying to say the least, though of course she was probably exaggerating, she had never been one to take on more danger than necessary and her fragile heart was grateful for that.

Y/N shyly stroked the boy's cheeks, she loved having him close, her heart ached when she didn't see him, it was overwhelming, many times she had woken up in the night, terrified of all the possible things that could have happened to the boy...her boy.

He rested his hand on the wall behind her and brought his face close to hers, losing himself in her gaze, if he could he would spend his time looking at her, sometimes he would draw her in the worn notebook he had found, he knew her features perfectly, he could have drawn her with his eyes closed, she was the work of art, he didn't know what he was looking for or needed, but he would never complain about her arrival.

She tangled her fingers in his soft hair, because of their closeness, the boy's soft perfume invaded her senses, she didn't know how he managed it, but it was the only scent that never made her sneeze, in fact she longed to keep it with her always.

He kissed her with intensity and desperation, it felt as if everything was falling into place again, as if everything made sense, his day had become more colourful and brighter, suddenly the fabric of his clothes didn't itch anymore and his feet didn't hurt from the long walk.

Taehyung lowered his kisses to her neck, breathing in her scent as he felt her heartbeat echo in his ears, whenever he was with her he wanted more, anything she could give him he would gladly accept, every tug of her hair or the small marks of her nails on his shoulders were more than welcome.

He had become addicted to her, her spirit followed him, everything he could be and what he was, he treasured every thing she gave him, every sound, every smile or look, it served him on those nights when everything around him seemed meaningless, on those nights when he had been closer to death than he would have liked to admit.

She covered her mouth, trying not to make too much noise, no matter how deserted this church was, there was still the possibility that her group might enter, she would never see their faces again if they were found in that position, besides she was always worried about everything she did in the boy's presence, trying not to do something stupid and embarrass herself in front of him.

He left little marks where only she could see them, trying to remind her that what had happened between them was real, that he was real, and that even if time passed, he would always be there, even if it was on her skin or in her memory.

Farewells were painful, but he always clung to the possibility of seeing her again, praying to the heavens that this would not be the last time he saw Y/N, that he could feel her in his arms once more, kiss her soft skin and caress her hair.

But in such a cruel world, nothing was certain, every possibility had to be taken seriously, for one small misstep and all that had been suffered, fought or striven for would be destroyed by those who had nothing left.

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You're right | Park Jimin x Reader

a/n: Hi!, this is my first one shot, if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3

Genre: Nonfamous au, Angst at the end, fwb.

Warning: Mention of cheating, (Y/N does it), open ending.

Wc: 1034

Jimin knew he was lost ever since met Y/N, something in her screamed danger, but he had never backed down from anyone, even when his whole circle warned him how stupid he was, but to him it was worth it, especially when his hands ran over her figure.

He yearned to see her every day, it was like a drug he could never escape from, he liked to play with fire, to tempt her and leave her begging for more, marking her as his whenever he could, trying to be the only thing she thought about while they were together.

It was addictive to be by her side, he needed her presence almost as much as he needed to breathe, she was perfect for him, everything about them fit perfectly, they were made for each other, there was only one tiny problem...she had a boyfriend.

She spent every free night by his side, sometimes he could fall into the fantasy that he was her partner, but then her cell phone echoed in the room and everything was lost, they were no longer just the two of them, he was the extra of the relationship, he truly did not understand it, she professed her love for him every time they were together, but apparently her words were blown away by the wind.

Never before love (and rupture) songs had made sense to him, until now, it was torture to spend time with Soomin and Taehyung, listening to that damn Taylor Swift song, it hurt, of course it did, because undeniably there was a verse what followed wherever it went.

'Cause you weren't mine to lose' It might sound dramatic but that's how it felt when he saw her with her boyfriend, he didn't know if the guy was stupid or truly ignorant of what was going on around him, but she wanted him, openly, her gaze was always falling on him, but it wasn't enough anymore.

She showed a lot of loyalty to her boyfriend, even if she seemed to be happier by his side, the other idiot still thought the Y/N he knew was there with him, but Jimin knew he had made a change in her, he could tell it in her look, she didn't love him, he always tried to show her that she would never feel that good with someone other than him.

He had to get her out of his head, as much as she would show him how much she wanted him in the privacy of their homes, he wanted more, and if she was so willing to be with the other idiot, it was fine with him, after all they had never promised each other exclusivity.

So he went to a pub, it's not like he hadn't done it before, he used to do it with her, it wouldn't be so weird if he went out with friends right? He scanned the place with his eyes, no one seemed interesting enough, but he didn't have to worry, he was going with Hoseok and Jungkook, with them everything would be easier.

After he had a few shots, he went to the dance floor, he got into the crowd to dance, more than a few girls turned to look at him, it was a small boost to his ego, but he needed more than that, he needed to forget, he didn't know what Y/N had done to him, but it was as if he was under her spell.

He had played with fire and indeed he had been burned, but he wasn't one to cry over spilled milk, he searched for a girl, whoever she was, that didn't matter, he just needed to forget Y/N, replace the memory of her lips with another girl's, the feel of her skin against his and the scent of her perfume engraved in his brain.

She shakily released his name, he thought he heard something like SeoHee, but that was the least of it, he kissed her shoulder, marking her skin freely, without having to limit himself to the parts that could be hidden from the other's eye, it was certainly liberating.

He caressed her hips, lightly brushing the tip of his fingers in her thighs, this was for his own pleasure, it was selfish to use her like this, especially touching her like he did Y/N, she tugged softly his hair, fuck, it was almost like having Y/N there with him.

"Dae-sung, I feel sick, let's go" That voice, he would've recognized it even with his eyes closed.

Jimin raised his head like he had been whipped, he saw Y/N, with her stupid boyfriend, she looked magnificent (as always), but her beautiful eyes were teary, looking at him with so much pain, he felt like his heart was being stabbed, he was the reason and that burned like hell.

But she was someone else's, that thought haunted his head constantly and with Dae-sung there, it was the vivid reminder that no matter how hard he fought, she would never be his, he had never lost her, because how can you lose someone who was never yours?

His hands itched to go with her, to hit Dae-sung and remind him of the beautiful woman he had by his side, that she wasn't willing to leave him, no matter how many mistakes he made, because yes, in that relationship it was well known that none of them were innocent.

She was never going to do that for him, maybe he was just a game for her, she only kept him by her side because he was the only one who knew how to please her, there was something in all this that didn't completely fit for him, why look at him with such pity? He was just a toy for her.

"Y/N, honey" He didn't deserve to call her that, that was his nickname, "It's impossible for you to be sick" Dae-sung denied, not believing for a second the statement.

Y/N held his wrists, as she used to do with him "It was sudden, please, we have to go" She looked sideways in his direction.

"You promised you'd stay, that you'd have a good time with me and my friends" she begged pathetically, maybe in that is what they were both alike, they were constantly begging for an ounce of her attention.

The girl sighed defeated, "Alright, I'll stay" Jimin snorted unable to contain himself, she was once again proving to him that the idiot would always be her priority, even if she demurred inside, he would come first, if she had chosen him, she would never have had to go through that, but of course, a toy would never match up to something real and safe like Dae-sung was...he would never be at her level.

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GUIDE:

Fluff: 💕

Angst: 💧

Suggestive: ⚡️

My favorite: ✨️

Nothing yet

Wildest Dreams | Min Yoongi x Reader | Forbidden Love

Nothing yet

Nothing yet

You're right| Jimin x Reader | FWB

I Can See You | Kim Taehyung x Reader | Forbidden love

Sweather Weather | Kim Taehyung x Reader | Soulmate

By your side...Or no? | Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Unrequited Love

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Hi! Im Thunderg, (you can call me Thunder or Alex, however you like). Im new to write in this app and english is not my first language, so please, be patience with me, i write slowly, (sorry in advance for that), but i will update when i can, i hope you like my content, i'll put my best effort to it, im always open to feedbacks, but be respectfull, and comment if you like it helps me to keep going.

• For now I only write about BTS, but if i get to feel more comfortable i will expand.

• If you see a name you don't recognize, is because me and my bestfriend have OC's for each one member, they will appear sometimes, just to differentiate Y/N from the other characters.

-> I will receive request if:

• The request is made with respect.

• Request comes with detailed/specific description.

• If the request are open, if its not, then i will write it, when its open again.

• I don't write smut, i don't feel comfortable enough, so dont request for it.

• Pairings between members.

• The request was against a community, there may be slight mentions in the shot, but never any kind of disrespect that could hurt someone.

• If i don't like the request, i will say it to the person in private (as soon as posible) and not do it.

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I can't help but say this again, do the second part please 😭.

Enchanted | Jung Hoseok

A small drabble I wrote based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift ^^. As to give some context, Reader is younger sister of Jin, Namjoon and Taehyung, who in turn are children of the emperor and Jungkook is the son of a king [just in case, the emperor has more power than the king].

To say you were tired was an understatement. The purple heels decorated with diamonds were killing your poor heels, the corset barely allowed you to breathe, and you were absolutely certain that at some point in the evening you would step on the overly voluptuous dress and fall face first to the floor, feeling too humiliated to even look the guests in the face.

Your introduction to the guests had been a good while ago, now you were too busy choking on food with your older brother to worry about the others. This, you thought, was the only way you could scare off any suitors.

"Seokjin, Y/N" you both turned in the direction of Namjoon's serious and accusing voice. He was the second eldest, but he definitely seemed to have more authority than Jin. He cleared his throat, trying to get the men next to him to ignore his brothers' behavior, "These are the Jeon brothers," he flashed a charming smile at two of the men, who seemed to be wearing clothes just as expensive as those of your brothers. "They are both interested in doing business with our family, so it's important for them to get to know each other better."

Jin and you looked at each other for a second. Namjoon was trying to introduce you to one of the two to be your fiancé, and Jin had to approve before anything happened. You wanted to kick your brother's pretty little face. 

You looked at Jeon again. If Namjoon was bringing them in as possible fiancées, it meant they had a high position in the hierarchy of nobles that your middle brother and father were so obsessed with. 

You smiled with your lips pressed together, trying not to look as awkward as you seemed, why should you know these people? You were sure they didn't even care about you. Despite that bitter thought, you bowed slightly to both of them and, in the softest voice you could manage, said "A pleasure, I'm Kim Y/N, Emperor Kim's fourth daughter."

The one you thought was the older one, took the back of your hand and left a barely noticeable kiss on your knuckles. You held back the urge to vomit. You hated being touched, let alone kissed without being told that's what you wanted. How rude. The youngest, however, seemed to be too distracted watching something on the other side of the ballroom.

You frowned, watching the direction his eyes were going and following it. It was only then that you realized why he didn't take his attention away from that spot on the dance floor. 

There was a group of four people, two women and two men, and each one was even more beautiful than the last, if that was even possible. The first person to catch your eye was the green-eyed redhead. Her hair had unruly curls tied up in an elegant bun, you weren't sure, as the distance was too far, but you could swear she had freckles on her pale cheeks and upturned nose; she wore a red dress that had white flower decorations on the sides and back, highlighting the color of her skin and eyes. She didn't look like she was from here.

The second person was the one who attracted the gaze of the youngest Jeon. She, unlike the previous one, had wavy blonde hair and wore it perfectly loose, her white skin with pink tones made her sky blue eyes stand out so much that it even looked like it could hurt from admiring them so much. Her dress was of a color similar to her eyes, but darker and with white decorations and sleeves that became loose after resting on her elbows. Yes, you could understand why he couldn't take his eyes off her.

The third was a man. His gray-toned hair stood out more than the rest of the men's, but, without a doubt, the most impressive thing was how pale he looked, for a moment you thought he might faint. He was wearing a dark blue trench coat, very similar to the skin of a crocodile, his black leather pants fit his legs perfectly and the long boots that reached below his ankles shone enough to see your reflection, and you were meters away. You squinted to see what he was wearing under his trench coat. It appeared to be some sort of men's corset, with three thick leather straps encircling his waist.

And the last one that met your gaze was... perfect. His hair, like the girl Jeon didn't seem to want to let out of his sight, was blond, the only difference being that the ends were almost completely black. He wore a black trench coat with gold decorations and black pants that looked much less tight than the boy next to him. He was wearing a vest, which you'd swear was for a pocket watch, the same color as the trench coat and, as a finishing touch, a white tie over his shirt. Now the one who didn't want to look away was you.

You were sure that your brothers and the older Jeon were talking some crap about the kingdom that you were definitely not interested in. There was a blond boy who was too gorgeous not to give him the attention he deserved.

You weren't sure how intently you looked at him, but it was enough that the man turned his gaze in your direction, causing his gaze to collide with yours. Your heart flipped over your chest as you watched him smile brightly at you. 

Who the fuck was that guy and why didn't you know his name yet?

Your heart returned to its normal rhythm as the blonde girl caught your boy's eye - yes, that would be his name by now - and dragged him almost to the door leading to the castle courtyard. Your feet itched from the urge you had to follow both of them. 

You saw the giant clock beside you. 2 AM, would anyone mind if you left the party for a few minutes? You had been standing here making your presence known for over five hours, you thought you had the right to do so.

Just as you turned to say a polite goodbye to the group of men you were obliged to be in, Namjoon gave you a huge smile and showed you the door through which the blond couple had just left. A great urge to vomit flooded you at the thought of that man with another.

"Can you take Jungkook for a walk in the garden? His brother just told me he loves flowers, I'm sure you can have a wonderful warm time chatting about gardening."

Jungkook, who was apparently the younger of the two, looked at you with eyes full of excitement, but you were aware that this glow was not about you, just as you knew he could tell in yours that you were in the same situation as he was. 

"Sure, I'll lead him through the garden until we reach the main entrance," you took Jungkook's hand almost without thinking, running as you lifted your dress with your free hand, you didn't want to let them out of your sight.

When you opened the door, both of you shaken, a wave of disappointment fell over you. There seemed to be no sign of them.

Jungkook, avoiding at all costs to look at you -due to how embarrassed he felt-, let go of your hand and started to walk slowly. You just followed him silently, just as uncomfortable and disappointed as he was.

You couldn't help but imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that pair would be involved, what if they were kissing? Or holding hands while declaring their undying love for each other? What if he loved her?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling stupid to be daydreaming about a complete stranger. 

You were still cursing yourself internally when Jungkook put his arm in front of you, stopping your movements. You frowned, ready to start questioning him, but then you heard two voices, one female and one male, they seemed to be arguing.

You and the younger Jeon shared a glance, silently deciding that you would go investigate. Taking advantage of the darkness around you. You walked through the shadows of the large bushes until you came upon a large fountain decorated with a human-sized angel at the top; in front of it were they, though definitely not as you expected.

"I told you, Hoseok, I can't do it" gasped the blonde desperately, shaking out her hair and messing it up. You didn't understand how she could look even better like this.

"Well you'll have to, Jiwon, Yoongi isn't going to let his... whatever it is with Chaeyoung, try to mess with one of them, and you know it" the boy, who you had had a ridiculously strong fixation on, spoke so patiently and softly that even you would have given in to whatever he needed. Although, being honest, you would give in to anything he asked for.

"This is ridiculous" the girl growled, resting her hands on her hips and raising her gaze to the sky. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Jungkook's mouth open slightly in astonishment. You thought you looked the same at the moment, but for a very different reason than he did.

"Just this once, you just have to talk to him, nothing more," your throat went dry as you watched him beg the girl for help. You had never seen a man beg so much for something. Now you were curious as to what it was that he was so reluctant to do.

Your intention in getting a little closer to them was not to be discovered, but, just as you predicted moments ago, those stupid heels had ended up getting tangled with the giant skirt and, consequently, making you fall. Face to the ground. With the garden freshly watered. At the feet of both of you. You wanted to die.

Masterlist

[thunderg]

Hello everyone! I was just coming here to let you know that I'm moving my account since this is just a secondary one and it's annoying to have to keep switching accounts all the time :) New name is @livingformintyoongi (yes, it's the same as this one lol).

[thunderg]

This is a Masterpiece, I LOVE IT

Request: Hii, i just found your blog and saw that you are accepting requests, could i ask for a fic where the maknaes set you up with yoongi? Kind like frenemies to lovers? Like you and yoongi are constantly bickering and the rest of the guys cannot take it anymore of how much chemistry you guys have. Rom/com kind of vibe. Wouldn't mind if it ends up having some smut 😜 Thanks!!!

a/n: I am very sorry for the delay 😫, I was very busy, I hope it was as you had imagined.

Jin let out a long and heavy sigh, Namjoon rolled his eyes discreetly, the younger members of the group were laughing quietly together with Hoseok, and you, well, you were the cause of those expressions that became so common every time you came to pay them a visit and Yoongi was there.

You were Hoseok's best friend since you were 10 years old, you were there for him through thick and thin, so it was almost impossible for you not to become close to his other group mates, except for Yoongi of course. It's not that you hated him, and you didn't think he hated you either, it's just that… there was something about him that made you bring out the worst in yourself, and vice versa.

You still remember the first time you met him. It was the same day of BTS's debut, you had bought the most expensive ticket, all to support your beloved Hobi. You had managed to sneak backstage so you could give your friend some water, you could feel his nervousness from your seat. However, the rest of the members still didn't know you, which is why, when Yoongi saw you smuggling in too suspiciously and placing a bottle of water in his best friend's bag, he almost kicked you out.

The two of you started arguing, you even went so far as to roll up your shirt sleeves, ready to bring out your brawling side. Luckily for you, Hoseok arrived just then, and it didn't take him long to hug you tightly and thank you for coming. Yoongi still remembered your smirk of superiority and your middle finger rising in his direction.

"Let go" you growled under your breath, holding up a piece of meat with your chopsticks, "I took it first."

"My chopsticks are under yours, it was me who took it first" Yoongi's eyebrows furrowed, his body leaned towards you, both of you were sitting together at Hobi's insistence.

"Liar!" this time you leaned towards him, there was barely an inch of separation between your noses. Perhaps if you hadn't been so busy thinking about food, you might have noticed the blush on Yoongi's cheeks and his slight tremble on his lips. "You should be a gentleman and give it to me."

"Guys," Jimin said mockingly, resting his chin on both hands. Jungkook and Taehyung were trying to stuff their mouths with food so they wouldn't say something out of place, last time they spent over half an hour listening to both of them yelling at you that you guys definitely had nothing in common and would never, not even in the most horrible dreams they had, be in a relationship. "Why don't you just break it in half? There's no need to argue over a piece of meat."

"It's not just any piece of meat, it's the piece of meat" this time you turned to Jimin, pointing at it with the tip of your index finger, "I studied it before I grabbed it, there's almost no fat on it, and it's at its best doneness, plus it's perfectly seasoned. It's just a matter of looking at it to know it will be delicious."

"Sorry I was late, it was rush hour and everything was packed, barely made it out of the subway."

The eight of them turned around at the same time, meeting the big smile of Soyeon, an old friend of Jungkook's and Jimin's current partner. You almost choked on your own saliva at the sight of her.

You two got along very well, you had even gone out on a few occasions just the two of you. Soyeon was an extremely beautiful and feminine girl, she fit in too well with Jimin. She was quite outgoing and caring, and would always talk to you to see how you were doing or if you needed help at your restaurant. Yes, she could have been an amazing friend if it weren't for the fact that she had the same bad habit as Jimin.

"Oh, don't tell me," she covered her mouth with her hand, staring at you. A shiver ran down your spine. You could see the evil behind his eyes, "Were you and Yoongi planning to feed each other? I never thought you would accept your love for each other so soon, I would give you at least another three months."

"I was giving them until about two more," Jimin said with a chuckle, getting up from his chair to help Soyeon sit down.

"I wasn't feeding him!" you hurried to say, dropping the chopsticks and looking at the wall, completely avoiding Yoongi could see how embarrassed you were. This is why you hated being in the same room as these two.

"It's okay, sorry, sorry" Soyeon shared a sympathetic look with Yoongi, who took the opportunity to grab the piece of meat that had caused such a fuss.

The topic of conversation quickly changed thanks to the help of Jimin's girlfriend. She diverted attention to some dramas she had been having at her job and, to your surprise, it worked quite well. Sometimes you were impressed by how curious and gossipy these guys could be.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see how a piece of meat covered with a lettuce leaf stood on your plate. You couldn't help but smile, mentally repeating to yourself that, ultimately, that smile wasn't because of Yoongi's gesture, but because of the fact that you won the fight.

"Are you sure you're okay?" shouted Soyeon close to your ear. The music in the bar was too loud and you could barely hear your own thoughts. The pain in your head didn't help much either, how many drinks had you had?

"I think so" you tried to shout back, but a loud retch interrupted you.

You covered your mouth and ran as fast as you could to the bathroom on the second floor, leaving Soyeon behind.

Right after you disappeared down the stairs, Jimin appeared next to Yoongi, both of them were trying to communicate loudly between drunken laughter and clumsy steps. Suddenly, an idea lit up Soyeon's head and, mentally apologizing to you -along with a plea for you not to kill her when you had self-awareness- she approached the boys.

"Yoongi! Jimin!" She raised her hand to let them both know where she was, there were a lot of people among the three of them.

"Yeon?" muttered Jimin, pulling Yoongi so he could hear her better, "What happened?"

"It's Y/N" she shouted, pointing at the staircase, "Looks like she drank too much and feels really bad."

Both Jimin and Soyeon smiled as they noticed Yoongi's worried grimace, who was too distracted watching the ladder to notice their complicit looks.

"I meant to go help her, but she's a lot taller than me, and I don't think I can take-" Soyeon interrupted herself as she noticed Yoongi handing her glass to Jimin and hurrying past the people to climb up the stairs, "Wow, that was faster than I thought."

Jimin nodded in agreement, smiling as he watched his Hyung run after you. Despite all the teasing and teasing he and the guys were giving Yoongi, everyone knew that you made him happy, in a very strange way, and he couldn't help but get excited to see how he cared about you.

You leaned your head against the bathroom wall, flushing the toilet awkwardly. You were disgusted by the sight of your own vomit. You closed your eyes, your whole body was weighing you down and all that was going through your head was to take a good drink of water and lie on your bed next to your cat.

"Y/N?" You opened your eyes again, about to insult whoever interrupted your beautiful silence. It was Yoongi, though he looked much more worried than usual, "God, you look awful" he muttered, coming over to you and taking your arms carefully so he could lift you up. He paled almost instantly as he saw you start to retch.

He hurried to carry you to the toilet, resting your weight on it. He averted his gaze the moment you expelled all the alcohol you had drunk.

Despite being too out of yourself, you could swear Yoongi's cold hands were holding your hair and caressing your back gently. Yes, you were definitely too drunk.

"Gross" you whispered, flushing again, letting Yoongi help you up, "Sorry, did you want to use the bathroom?"

Yoongi ignored your question, slipping one of his arms behind your back and the other behind your knees, carrying you like a princess. You couldn't help but laugh as you felt him lift you up.

"Yoongi-ah is very strong, she can carry me even when she's drunk" you joked, letting your head fall back, watching as the rest of the guests danced energetically. Before closing your eyes and falling into the arms of Morpheus, you watched as Soyeon and Jimin gave you both a thumbs up and dismissed them with a big smile, but you didn't have time to think about that, as soon as Yoongi opened the door, you were completely unconscious.

You wrinkled your nose as you smelled a familiar scent, but almost instantly groaned in pain. You could feel a kind of unbearable hammering in your head, besides the burning in your throat and the heaviness in your eyes, right now even breathing hurt.

"I'll never drink again in my life" you growled in a raspy voice, letting your arm fall over your eyes.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you."

You sat up almost automatically in bed, regretting it immediately. Grimacing, you grabbed your head with both hands, cringing and throwing yourself sideways onto the bed again. It was then that you realized who the scent was that you had smelled when you woke up. It was the same perfume Yoongi wore.

"Be careful, you drank too much yesterday, you might get a headache if you move so abruptly" Yoongi murmured calmly, setting down a tray in front of you.

"No shit, genius" you groaned sarcastically, sitting down again, but this time more slowly.

You took the opportunity to look around Yoongi's room. You had never been in his house, much less his room. It was quite nice, and yes, it had the name Yoongi on every corner of it. If your throat hadn't been sore, you probably would have laughed.

"Here," he held out a pill and a glass of water, his gaze fixed on you.

"W-what is it?" you looked at his hands and what he held between them. You were aware that they were probably for a hangover, but you still found it hard to believe. He was the first guy to offer you such kind treatment after drinking half a bar, this obviating Hobi, of course.

"I thought you might have a pretty nasty hangover" he sighed, taking your hands and setting the things down on them, "Drink them with plenty of water, you might get a sore throat if you don't." He rubbed his hands on the jeans he was wearing. For a second you thought he was nervous. "Make yourself at home, you can use the shower if you want, I also have change of clothes that Hobi brought in the morning, if you want to dress in something more comfortable."

"Thank you" you murmured, watching him leave the room. For the first time since meeting him you felt nervous around him.

You shook your head at such a thought. It was Yoongi, fucking Min Yoongi, who you yelled at, pushed and shoved and picked on almost daily, to think of him like that was… impossible.

You repeated that to yourself as you took the pill he had brought you, as you ate the breakfast he had bothered to bring to your bed, as you guiltily made his bed for having stolen it from him last night, as you showered, as you dressed, even as you walked towards him with your party bag in one hand and clothes in the other.

"Sorry for the inconvenience" you whispered crestfallen. You didn't even quite remember how you got here, you thought he probably paid your cab fare and had to carry you, that idea made your stomach tingle and you definitely didn't want to dig into it.

"Don't worry, are you feeling better?" Yoongi turned to you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"What do you care?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn't like this overly friendly side of him. You pulled your clothes closer to your chest, pressing them against it in a failed attempt to control your heartbeat. You cleared your throat, feeling embarrassed for acting this way after he had taken care of you in the early morning, "Thanks for the help, even though I didn't ask for it" you stood for a few moments in silence, both of you sharing glances. Yoongi was sitting on the edge of the couch in your living room, his elbow was resting on the arm of the couch, and in turn his chin was resting on his hand. He was staring at you, his face just as calm as ever.

"Y/N" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes, "don't you remember anything that happened last night?"

"What are you talking about?" you cocked your head to the side, furrowing your eyebrows. You tried to remember something, but beyond the vomit and waking up in Yoongi's bed, your memory was empty, "Did I throw up your clothes?" a grimace of horror came across your face, if you had, you were ready to dig a hole under the ground and bury yourself in it.

Yoongi just shook his head, turning his eyes back to his TV, "Forget it, it's nothing" he picked up the remote control and brought it close to his mouth, resting it lightly against his lips.

You turned away almost immediately as soon as you realized how much you were looking at her mouth.

"Whatever, I'm leaving now" you shouted from the doorway, getting out as fast as your legs would let you. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you didn't like it at all.

"Jiwon, I'm serious, this is serious" you folded your arms, watching as Jungkook laughed out loud while Jiwon tied her hair in a high ponytail.

"Y/N, I've already told you several times, not just because your heart is racing you will go into cardiac arrest" Jiwon took control of Jungkook's hands and looked at him with annoyance, "And you stop laughing, or else you'll sleep in one of your Hyung's house."

"Sorry, sorry," Jungkook said with laughter, hugging Jiwon and kissing her right cheek, "I promise I'll show you mercy in this match."

"Stop flirting!" you threw yourself on the bed behind them, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly.

As the sound of the game timer began to play, Jiwon's slightly gravelly voice echoed in the room.

"Okay, okay, tell me what you have, I don't have anything like to give you a check up, but I could try to give you a pre-diagnosis" she murmured concentrating on the screen.

"It all started about two weeks ago, after I woke up in Yoongi's house" you mumbled, trying to remember everything that happened.

"Wait, why were you at Yoongi's house?" Jungkook, knowing that his girlfriend would look at him after asking that question, shrugged, completely oblivious to the situation. It didn't matter to him as much as beating her at the game.

"Oh, it's just that I'd had too much to drink that night, and since he didn't know my address, he let me stay at his place, but that's not the point" you sighed, settling back to look at your friend's blonde hair, "Ever since that day I've been having problems."

"What kind? Maybe it was because of how much you drank."

"I don't know. Every time I remember about that night my stomach feels like it's squishing or something" you wrinkled your nose, shaking your head at how horrible it made you feel to remember that feeling, "My heart also gets too fast, like it's racing, and sometimes I even stop breathing for a few seconds" you closed your eyes, remembering the smile Yoongi had given you just before you left, how her lips touched the tip of the remote control. "My body temperature suddenly changes, even my face turns red from the heat I feel."

You hadn't realized until then that they had both stopped playing and were looking at you in surprise. You looked at them in confusion, the thought that it was indeed something serious made your stomach churn.

"Y/N" Jungkook muttered, turning completely around and resting his hands on the bed, "do you like Yoongi?"

You remained silent, not because you didn't want to answer, but because you were surprised that he thought that. Of course you didn't like him, it was the opposite, you hated him, that's why you always fought, for that very reason you had learned the things he likes and the things he hates, to annoy him back, just like he did with you.

"Of course he likes it, we all knew that," Jiwon gently tapped Jungkook's shoulder, turning to look at you, "Right?"

"I don't… he's not…" you swallowed saliva, trying to find the right words, but you couldn't, a lump in your throat kept you from saying you didn't like him, you didn't even feel attraction for him, did you? Because it was always about you hating each other, about others claiming how you probably liked each other, just that.

"Y/N?" Jiwon walked over to you, sitting down next to you and smiling sympathetically as she noticed how complicated you were with the question, "I think you just answered yourself."

"But I haven't said anything yet" you mumbled, looking at Jiwon nervously. You didn't want to accept what she was saying.

"Look" she rested one of his hands on your lower back, her smile still there, "everything you mentioned is what one feels when they're attracted to someone and, if we're being honest, you and Yoongi usually have quite a bit of chemistry in your so-called fights."

"He doesn't feel the same way about me" you finished saying, you knew that with that comment it could be understood that your answer to Jungkook's question was a yes, but that wasn't what you were worried about, what would you do if these two were right? How would you tell Hobi that you hooked up with his best friend? What would you do if you let it slip that you like him and you end up making Yoongi and consequently everyone else uncomfortable?

"There's only one way to find out," Jiwon said with a chuckle, nudging you on the arm, "you know how the saying goes, he who doesn't risk, doesn't win."

"And in case I turn you down, you can come with us" Jungkook came towards you from behind, hugging you tightly. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of his buck teeth.

"Thanks, guys" you murmured, hugging you both.

"Don't even think it'll be free, you'll have to cook us a delicious lunch for a week."

You laughed as you felt Jungkook whimper at the blow Jiwon had given him. You couldn't help but wonder if you and Yoongi could ever have a relationship like theirs.

You checked yourself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. It had been two months since your conversation with Jiwon, two months in which you paid attention to Yoongi's attitude towards you, in which you remembered the moments you were together-which were many more than you thought. You took that time to think about your feelings, organize your ideas and plan how you would bring him to your restaurant.

It was in those months that you realized how kind he had always been to you. Yes, it was true that you were insulting and annoyed most of the time, however, in almost all of those memories you had of him, he acted much nicer than you felt at the time.

One of those times was here. On the opening day of the restaurant the guys had a live performance, they were at their best, it was impossible to change the date. That day you cried alone in the bathroom of the venue because you couldn't have your best friends here to celebrate with you. It was that same night, some time after you finished all the comfort of the bathroom by blowing your nose and wiping your face, that Yoongi appeared covered up to his ears with a big bouquet of flowers and many gift bags that he left on one of the tables.

You remembered how he approached you and stretched the bouquet to you while mumbling a "You look awful, you're lucky no one else came", you cried even harder when you heard him say that, still, you hugged him tightly, sobbing as you felt him pat your back and recommended you to make friends who had more free time so they could celebrate with you. You also remembered how he agreed to eat from the dinner you had made for them, and you accepted the gifts-which he had told you were part of the rest of the members. Secretly, you were thankful that he had had the surgery just that week, because it was the first time you were alone together, it was the first time you really started to feel something for him.

"Ah, it's been so long since I'm been here."

You almost had a heart attack when you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the entrance. You looked at yourself one last time, you weren't super dressed up, but you were formal enough to understand that you meant business. Besides, those black elephant foot pants looked too good on you.

"Yeah, I seem to remember I had banned you" you joked, fiddling with the button on your shirt sleeve, "I thought you'd be later."

"You told me it was something important" you mumbled, "how could I keep you waiting?"

You don't know how you managed to hold back the urge to thump your chest and throw yourself on the floor, but you were glad you had such good willpower.

"Yes," you nodded, wiping the sweat from your hands on your pants. You didn't know how to bring up the subject.

"Do you like someone?" Yoongi pulled out one of the chairs and sat in it, his gaze fixed on you, on your every move.

You hated his ability to be so calm, though of course, he wasn't the one who was going to propose. "How did you know?" you asked, moving closer to him.

"Soyeon once told me that women tend to dress up more when they like someone" he whispered. The atmosphere was calm and quiet enough that you could hear him without fuss, "and it's the first time I've seen you so well groomed."

You almost hit him when you heard it. You had only tied your hair back.

"Why do you want to tell me? I thought we were on bad terms, or am I wrong?"

"No," you said firmly, taking a step closer to him. Your heart felt like it was going to burst, you hated not being able to have control over him, "Yes I do" you swallowed spit, looking down at him from above. You could tell his eyes were darkening slightly.

"Then what did you call me for?" he sighed, trying to get up, but being immediately stopped by you.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down hard, forcing him to stay and listen to you.

For the first time in the night you could notice how his calm countenance transformed into one full of surprise. You squealed inwardly as you saw his pale cheeks tinge pink.

"I called you just because I loathe you" you murmured, inwardly praying he didn't notice the tremble on your lips, "I always did, from the beginning. I hate how you always listened to every single thing I said, how you learned my likes and dislikes and the things I detested; how every time we all went out together you remembered those things and left me the parts I liked the most; I hate how you came to my graduation together with Hobi with the excuse that you didn't want to leave him alone with someone like me; I hate how whenever I felt lonely you noticed and came after me" you swallowed spit, feeling your eyes burn as you watched Yoongi's face turn redder and redder. "But most of all, I hate how you made me hate you so much to the point of making me fall for you."

You both fell silent, you could tell how Yoongi was intending to speak, but it seemed like the words wouldn't come out on their own.

You remembered that day with Jungkook and Jiwon, you had reacted exactly the same.

"You can break up if it bothers you" you said with a trembling voice, grabbing Yoongi's shirt and pulling him towards you, bringing his lips together with yours. You didn't intend for it to be long, you just wanted him to know that you meant it, that you were serious.

It was only for a few seconds, you pulled away from him, looking into his dark eyes. You took a breath and, with the confidence you still had inside you, you told him, "You didn't pull me away."

"You asked me to if it bothered me" he murmured, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulling you close enough to kiss you back.

This one was much longer and more passionate, you even got to feel your breath catch and your legs start to tremble. Luckily, Yoongi seemed to notice that and pulled you to him so he could sit you on his lap.

"Y/N" he whispered against your lips, his gaze swapping between your mouth and your eyes, "I like you too."

A huge warmth greeted your heart as you heard his statement accompanied by a huge, bright smile.

"Yes" you nodded vigorously, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck.

You never thought you would feel so comfortable next to him, but you definitely didn't regret anything.

[thunderg]

Kinktober, Day 4: Cock Warming | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Mom!Reader, honeymoon night, this doesn't have smut, actually. It's very fluffy lol sorry.

Your slender fingers tangled in Steve's hair, pulling him gently to kiss his lips slowly. Steve was... confused, but not unsatisfied, he would never be with you, much less sexually, but he didn't understand why you wouldn't let him out of you.

"Honey" he murmured between kisses, cursing himself internally for not being able to deny his now wife's kisses. He loved you too much, he would be unable to deny you one, "what's wrong, why won't you let me out?".

Your hand tensed for a moment. With slightly flushed cheeks you averted your gaze elsewhere. You pursed your lips and, the second later, mumbled, "well, it's the first time we've been together like this and, I don't know," your hands played nervously with Steve's chest hair. You felt too self-conscious. "I thought if we were like this I'd remember that it's you by my side, that you'd never leave me alone with my kids."

Steve's heart leapt. He loved you, adored both you and your childrens, and was immensely happy that you accepted him into your family. He couldn't understand how someone so kind, cute and nice could doubt herself so much, to him you were the perfect woman, everything he ever wanted, and yet, because of an idiot incapable of maturing, this person he had fallen in love with was losing more and more of his trust.

"I understand" he ran his fingers over your cheeks, his dark eyes were fixed on yours. He was trying to make you understand everything he felt for you, how tonight had been amazing for him, as much as it had been for you. He wanted you to understand that, with just one look, he would be at your feet. "I'll stay like this as long as you want me to, tonight is all about you."

"Us" you murmured with a radiant smile and an unusual sparkle in your beautiful eyes. Steve swore he had fallen a little more in love, as if that were possible, "tonight is about us, Steve."

He took your hand in his. You could barely cover Steve's hands, but neither of you cared. You brought your lips up to Steve's hand and kissed the wedding ring. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Steve's lips. Definitely, he thought, this would be the best day of his life.

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Please, give this one shot the love it deserves, it's sincerely amazing, you are getting better and better, I love you, keep it up.

Flowers | Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader.

Little intro, this is a Bridgerton au [yes, my friend and I are obsessed with that series and that's why we made this lol]. The context is simple: you, a girl who just wants to get on with her life as an artist, is forced to marry a nobleman after reaching the right age. That's where you meet Eddie, a young nobleman with quite a lot of charisma and much more liberal ideas than most men. The two decide to make a deal and pretend to love each other [we love sham marriage here] so you can each fulfill their dreams.

Warnings: Fluff, Bridgerton!au, reader has a little brother.

"Y/N" said Eddie with a big smile. He was carrying a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. among them were some big, bright sunflowers and.... What were those flowers that went next to the sunflowers? "At last we meet again."

Your heart stopped for a second as he felt Eddie's soft lips collide with your cheek. You couldn't remember how or when, but for some reason, Eddie irrevocably had you at his feet, and you didn't regret it at all.

"Eddie" you murmured almost breathlessly, from that distance he looked even better. You tried to put the thought out of your mind. 'This is just a deal, Y/N', 'he doesn't think of you that way, Y/N' you kept repeating to yourself, but those big puppy dog eyes and that expressive smile made you fall for him again and again and again, you didn't even try to disguise it anymore. "You came, and with a present."

Eddie looked down, almost as if he'd forgotten he was bringing that ridiculously large bouquet of flowers. "Oh, this," a beaming smile decorated his face along with a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, "I bought them for you. They were a little hard to come by, but I managed to get it to look the way I wanted."

"Difficult why?" You frowned slightly, taking the bouquet from Eddie's hands. No doubt it was beautiful.

"Well" he scratched his messy hair nervously, his eyes running away from yours all the time, "your brother told me that you really liked flowers, especially sunflowers, so I thought about bringing you a bouquet with them, but there was no flower I liked" his tone was getting lower and lower, as the blush on his cheeks spread to his ears and neck, "I was doing some research and I discovered this flower; it's called Lisianthus."

You smiled in amusement. You had never heard of that flower, but the fact that he had done research just to give you such a beautiful bouquet like that made you want to shed tears from emotion. You had been overly sensitive lately.

"When I read what they meant, I knew they were the ones."

"And what do they mean?" You both exchanged glances, both breathless.

Eddie was afraid to tell you the truth, but he knew he would be unable to lie to you. He knew there was no chance that the love was mutual, he reminded himself of it every day before he slept and dreamed of your beautiful smile, he reminded himself of it every day before he came to visit you and be mesmerized by the beauty of your eyes and the beautiful freckles that evenly decorated your cheeks, and yet, every time he woke up, every time he said goodbye to you, his heart pounded incessantly, betraying any kind of sanity he might have had.

"They mean..." he gulped, averting his gaze from yours, he wouldn't be able to see the rejection on your face. "love and commitment. As described in the book, the Japanese flower serves as a way of expressing the desire for the recipient."

You stifled a gasp, your eyes widened and your lips parted slightly. Eddie's face was now no longer the only one flushed.

"You... why...?" the words weren't coming out of your lips the way you wanted them to, but it was inevitable, you was too shocked to even think straight.

"You don't need to say anything" an almost invisible smile appeared on his face. You couldn't help but shrink in place as you felt his hand rest on your head and mess up your hair playfully, "I know we're only word fiancés, but I wanted you to know that, at least in my heart, there will always be room for our love."

As quickly as it appeared, his hand moved away, this time warming his pants pocket instead of your hair.

Your mind wasn't thinking straight, how could it after such a confession? You didn't understand how this could happen to you now, just when you had promised yourself not to fall for this pretty-faced idiot with a mood more broken than yours and your brother combined.

"I promise this won't change anything," Eddie said, breaking the silence that had fallen between both of you. "After all, before fiancés, we are allies, each other's only choice for freedom."

You wanted to answer him, to confess the truth, to tell him that the feeling was mutual, but apparently fate doesn’t want that. A horde of teenage boys appeared out of nowhere, taking Eddie with them, leaving you there, alone with your emotions, alone with that beautiful bouquet Eddie had given you, no, they weren't flowers, they were his raw feelings.

You couldn't help but smile, covering your face lightly with the bouquet. Ah, you couldn't wait to see him again.

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Loving your work, like always <3

Eddie Munson, Day One: Handcuffs.

Before I start I want to clarify a few things about the au that this one shot is based on. The shot is a Soulmate au with Punk!Eddie. Y/N is a psychology student who decides to impersonate a man to see his behavior in first person so she can do a thesis based on that. On her first night undercover she meets Eddie in a notorious bar. And that's where the beginning of this shot would come.

Warnings: Smut, a little bit fluffy, MDNI, Soulmate!AU, Punk!Eddie.

You gulped, staring at Eddie's every move. It was the first time you had seen him, you didn't even remember talking to him, although it was likely that you had. You just found him very attractive; he was funny, polite, kind, and certainly very handsome.

When Eddie whispered in your ear if you would like to go to his room as he ran his hands up one of your legs, you hardly even thought about it, you just sighed a 'yes'. All you knew after that was that Eddie pulled you up to the second floor of the bar, locked you both in a room and asked you to trust him.

Now sitting in the chair with your hands cuffed behind your back, you were beginning to question whether this was a good idea.

"Calm down," he smiled mischievously, resting his hands on either side of the chair, his gaze fixed on your dumbfounded expression, "what? You really think by putting a sock in your pants and aggravating your voice a little you'll be able to get past me?"

He whispered, moving closer to your neck. He left little sonorous kisses all over your collarbone, laughing as he heard your moans.

"To tell you the truth, I don't mind that you did, but I'm surprised that you think someone like your soulmate might not sense something like that, you know?"

You froze in place, your eyes widened too much, and your gaze locked on Eddie's expression of affection. It couldn't be true, could it?

"I noticed it when I saw this" He took your wrist, placing it right on the side of your leg." It's identical, it fits perfectly, don't you think?"

Eddie smiled again, stretching out his leg and kissing the mark there. His eyes fixed on yours.

"I didn't want this to be our first interaction, but you know what they say" he chuckled, kissing your cheek, "the order of the factors does not alter the product".

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