Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.
🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader
🌿word count; 8.1k
🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.
🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.
The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.
The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.
He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.
The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.
The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.
Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?
The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention.
So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.
The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.
"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.
So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.
"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.
"No, just me."
"If you lie it'll be worse for you."
"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.
"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.
You denied it, slowly.
"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.
"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.
Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.
With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.
The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.
"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.
The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.
That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.
You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.
When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.
Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.
"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.
You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.
"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."
But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.
He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again.
Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one.
You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.
You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago.
Two, to be exact.
You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.
The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes.
That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.
The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.
He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.
Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words.
When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.
"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.
"But you can draw on one piece of paper."
"That's not how it works."
"It'll have to work."
Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.
"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.
The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand.
The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.
After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.
There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.
The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.
"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.
"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.
He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.
"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.
"I'm already bored of it."
"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.
They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.
Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.
"I want you to say it," you smiled.
"Force me."
"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."
"You already said it. I don't have the need."
"Why do you have it under the bed?"
"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.
"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."
"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.
"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.
"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."
You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.
The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.
Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.
"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."
"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.
"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"
Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.
"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."
Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.
The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.
He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.
"I followed you today."
"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.
"To the woods, when you left this morning."
When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour.
"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.
"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.
There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.
"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.
A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.
Fallacies.
"How did you come to find me?"
"What?" the smile faded from your face.
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.
"Don't know."
He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.
"Sure, of course."
"Do you think I'm lying to you?"
"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.
Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.
"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."
"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.
"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"
"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.
"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.
"Then you do know something about your past."
"Fuck you, Kim."
"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.
"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.
"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.
"I know."
You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.
"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."
Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.
Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.
It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.
He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.
Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?
Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.
"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.
It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.
For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.
You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.
When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.
The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.
If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?
Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.
Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.
He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.
He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.
"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.
With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.
Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.
"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.
"I want you to take me."
"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.
"Take me somewhere."
Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.
"Where do you want to go?"
"To the house on top." you pointed east.
"How do you know there's a house on top?"
"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.
Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."
"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?
"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."
You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.
"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."
Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.
The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.
"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.
Rich and peachy.
"What?"
"No, nevermind."
"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.
"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.
The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.
"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.
You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.
"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.
Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.
"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.
The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.
"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."
"I think I remember some of what happened to me."
"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.
You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.
"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."
Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.
"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."
Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.
Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.
"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"
Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.
"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."
"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.
"I don't understand."
"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."
"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.
"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."
"You and how many others?"
Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?
"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."
They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.
You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.
The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.
You couldn't take it anymore.
"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.
He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.
Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.
He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.
Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?
"If you want to stop-"
"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.
"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.
Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.
"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.
You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.
In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.
"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.
With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.
"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.
It was embarrassing, but so sublime.
You loved it. No. You became obsessed.
When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.
"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.
Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.
You were going to be the death of him.
The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.
The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.
Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.
You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.
Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.
It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other.
That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.
The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.
You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.
"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.
"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."
As if he could.
"Because?"
"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."
"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.
"You are so intense in the mornings."
"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"
Taehyung frowned. "It's true."
"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."
"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."
You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.
Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.
"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"
Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.
"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.
Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.
"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.
"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."
You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.
Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.
You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.
"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked
Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.
"I want to give you a portrait."
You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.
"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?
"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."
"Even when one is smaller?"
He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.
"Especially the smaller one."
His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.
His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.
"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.
Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.
"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.
Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.
"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."
"Because?"
"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.
Taehyung could have cared less.
"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.
"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.
"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.
This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.
Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.
"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"
You didn't know what to say.
"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.
"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.
It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.
"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."
"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.
"Come here."
His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.
"Get naked, pet."
"It's cold."
"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.
"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.
His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.
"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"
You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.
"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."
"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.
"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.
Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.
"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.
If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.
There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.
Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.
"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.
He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.
"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.
With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.
You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.
"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"
You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.
You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.
You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.
"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."
How can he call you that without melting?
You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.
"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.
Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.
"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."
You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.
You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.
Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.
The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.
"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.
The first time you met Taehyung was at Noir 47 in New York. It was his birthday, and your boyfriend had begged you to go to a club on a Thursday night to meet his friends even though you had work in the morning.
Mark, your boyfriend of about seven months at the time, was in the kitchen telling you about the pranks he and his high school group got up to, mentioning Taehyung's name repeatedly in the wildest stories. Half an hour of laughter and nostalgia later, Mark sighed and looked into your eyes with that sparkle that only going back in time can give.
"You're going to love the boys." All you were thinking about was what cocktail of medications you'd have to mix in the morning to get you up and dressed by 7 a.m for work.
It's eight o'clock at night in New York, and spring is cruel to your velvet dress and your freshly styled hair. Noir 47, to your surprise, is rumbling and shaking the sidewalk and the others in line. Mark looked at his watch for the second time in fifteen minutes.
“Babe, don't you think we should go? We've already been in line for an hour and they haven't shown up.” You tried to sound as gentle as possible while your fingers froze.
“They're almost here. They told me they were pre-gaming at this bar two blocks away.” He, like you, was a little irritated by the situation but didn't want to show it. When you're an adult, absence and not being on time become a shameful offense. A mockery more than a coincidence.
"Call them again, Mark. I'm freezing my ass in here."
A taxi pulled up near you, and three men got out of the vehicle, laughing and talking loudly over the reverberating bass. One of them, the tallest, spilled out of the cab to pay and retrieve a half-empty bottle of champagne. Unlike everyone else who would be entering Noir, he was wearing a full suit and a skinny black tie. You assumed he was the birthday boy.
When they saw Mark, everyone screamed and pounced on the poor man, who no longer had a trace of annoyance in his bushy eyebrows. You smiled politely as you waited for your turn to introduce yourself, lips pressed together, hands frozen, hoping one of them would have the influence to let you in sooner and get a espresso martini or two shots of fireball asap.
Mark looked your way with the same nostalgic glow as that morning, this time overflowing like the haze of a good perfume. You had never seen him so happy in your life. He look back at the men towering you.
Ash, Hobi, and Taehyung.
Ash was thin, lanky, and had the same quirks as your boyfriend: lifting the corner of his lip when he said something sarcastic and closing his eyes when he smiled. He was quiet, a little awkward, but he held your hand with both of his when he greeted you and bowed slightly like you were royalty. He was sweet.
Hobi was like the dispersion of color on a CD, shining with his words, his clothes, and the hilarious mullet he wore next to his sunglasses in the middle of the night. All you thought about were men in the Okefenokee and the Everglades swamps. But Hobi looked like he was going to sing that night.
And Taehyung, well, what could you say about the birthday boy dressed like Timberlake in Sexy Back, like a member in Inception, with that stupid suit for a club where you go to dance techno and absurd house until the pills wear off.
Taehyung was the only one who dared to hug you when it was time to introduce himself. He smelled of Tom Ford's Oud Wood, and your heart leaped, begging you to come back and smell the collar of his shirt again.
“You’re an angel for giving Mark a chance. Our boy would have remained a virgin if it weren’t for you.” His hand rested on his chest, the silver rings glinting in the dim lights of the neon sign behind you.
You smiled, remembering your boyfriend was by your side, and held his hand. Not as a sign that you were truly the lucky one to have Mark, but to remind your body that it couldn’t be warm because of other people’s gestures, glints in their eyes or their $900 dollars perfume.
Hobi made sure you all got in faster, of course. That was his role in the group, Mark explained. Wherever Hoseok arrived, it was open doors and flattery everywhere. It wasn’t that he was popular or a millionaire. It’s was the fact that if you saw a man of his statute, you couldn’t say no, period. It didn’t speak well of your knowledge of the niche and the phantom counterculture to which Hoseok supposedly belonged, you knew he was important, you had to know. I mean, look at the guy. Of course he has a collaboration with Boiler Room or an art exhibition at Grotto.
You'd been in the basement for an hour, the colored lights like pebbles touching the burning skin of your neck. You didn't know if you were dancing to the pounding bass of the music or because the drugs weren't asking for anything else. You didn't want to take drugs tonight, but Hobi offered something short and effective.
"Just to relax. In a couple of hours and a cup of coffee, you'll be as good as new. I do it all the time, trust me," he said, placing the small piece of paper on your tongue.
And now here you are, you don't know if a couple of hours have passed, you only know that the masses of skin, colors, and the acrid, sweet smell of sweat filled your brain with a thin, warm liquid, and your hips, like waves on rocks, rushed from one side to the other. You no longer knew where your boyfriend's friends were, or how many times you sang happy birthday to an excited and coked-out Taehyung, who had left his jacket on a chair and undid two buttons on his sweaty shirt. Right now, it was just you and your boyfriend.
Your hands rose to the ceiling in pure ecstasy, your sweaty forehead pressed against Mark's, and despite the loud music, you could hear his ragged breathing and could see under the dimmed light his eyebrows knitted together. You gently bumped his forehead with yours to get him to look at you, but Mark's dose was slightly stronger. Still, you felt his hands squeezing your waist, his nails digging into the velvet and controlling the way your hips bumped.
It was confusing, you slowly realized that Mark's hands were actually on your shoulders, and the large hands venturing toward the gem on your dress were coming from behind you. You wanted to look back, you wanted to stop this weird creep, you wanted the stranger's hands to bring you closer to the sudden inhale of Oud Wood and the devilish laugh of the man who dared to brush your hair away from your neck and whisper to you.
"Angel, let's take Marcus outside. I think he needs to get away from Heaven for a bit."
You don't know if it was the warm air in your ear, the fact that in his drunken clumsiness he dared to say that to you with his hand pressed against your lower back, or the fact that you weren't a responsible girlfriend and realized your boyfriend was falling into your arms instead of dancing. But sobriety was starting to crash.
"Take my hand, the door is near," Taehyung shouted, his pupils like two lunar eclipses. Although his serious demeanor made you nod and not hesitate to take his hand as you held your boyfriend to lead him out the door.
Outside, the same chill as the beginning of the night continued, this time welcoming the sudden shock to your sweaty back. Mark leaned against the wall, groaning in confusion at the bright streetlights. You saw your hand, the rough trail of warmth heat still intertwined with Taehyung.
You both let go, as if the touch suddenly burn.
“Fuck,” Mark groaned and rolled his eyes.
“You okay, man?” Taehyung asked, taking the weight off your arms to help his friend sit on the edge of the pavement.
“Yeah, I just haven't messed around like this in a long time.” A slow, awkward smile appeared on his lips as he brushed his hair back. “Sorry, you shouldn't be here looking after me.”
“No worries, MK. Besides, I needed a smoke anyway.”
“Sorry, man. I love you, you know?”
“I know, don’t be sorry. You were the one who won in the end if you’re not taking drugs to go out.” They both laughed, and Mark ducked his head again, fighting the dizzying waves of the night.
“I’ll call an Uber and you'll feel better after a shower, okay, babe?” You said again, your voice thick and a little distant. As if you weren’t you, as if you were still inside with Oud Wood's hands tracing long circles with his thumbs on your waist.
“Yeah, thanks.”
You and Taehyung stood up, both of you barely looking at each other. You smiled with your lips pressed together, both hands glued to your phone as you opened the app. Taehyung lit the cigarette in his lips, guarding his defeated friend and then your features. He was studying you, analytical, objective.
“He’ll be here in five,” you swallowed, trying to ease the heaviness in the air.
“Your hair is all over the place,” Taehyung laughed softly, blowing smoke in your direction. You lowered your head and ran your hand through your hair, holding the strands at least until the Uber arrived.
“Here, let me help you.”
Taehyung tighten his cigarette between his lips and positioned himself behind you again. His fingers began caressing your forehead, grabbing each loose strand, then moved up to your ears. His fingers curled around the ones at the nape of your neck, and the gentle tug made your lips part. You looked at Mark, at his hunched back, his rugby-rimmed arms. So lost and gone.
“You’re so good to have given M a chance.” Taehyung’s voice sounded deep and sweet, like the liquid in your brain. It reverberated in your gut.
“You said it before, but I’m the lucky one.” You tried not to tremble as Taehyung braided your hair and tugged lightly. You looked back at Mark's silhouette, but all you could focus on was what you couldn't see.
The braid was arranged on your shoulder; you held it to see how neatly he'd braided the hair. Taehyung returned to your side, throwing away his cigarette butt. The sweat on his back and armpits had slowly dried, but the shirt still clung to his strong, agile body. The fastest runner in the whole town of Redwood, Mark said while chopping vegetables that morning, the one who protected Mark from the bullies at school.
"I haven't heard from Mark in months, you know? It's because of you."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "I'm not going to apologize because Mark doesn't want to talk to you guys."
“That's a compliment,” he murmured holding his hands up, and you relaxed your shoulders. “It's good he has you now. You really are like an angel.”
You don't know why you didn't respond or why the two of you just stared at each other, waiting for…something. Anything. A gesture, a word, an exhale.
The Uber stopped on the street. The liquid holding you had evaporated. And with a forced smile and a handshake, you saw Taehyung for the last time.
You didn't hear from him until two years later, around the same time. When you heard his hoarse, caustic voice on your husband's phone, you realized you still felt that same guilt, that same feeling that you'd lost and wanted to play again.
“Tae wants us to go to his house in Cali for the weekend; everyone will be there.”
This time, you didn't think about the next morning or the hangover; you just smiled at your husband and said you'd like to. Hell, you needed a little sun and some mojitos. Some torture, something sweet and the lovely confusion.
Hey Blue. I actually ended up following you right before you went on a hiatus I think? So we never really got to interact much but I loved your writing back then and I'm so glad that you're back and I'm looking forward to reading everything you're planning to drop whenever you're ready. Lot's of love 💕
Hi, welcome! 🫶🏼 I hope you like what I have in mind for this new year :3 Any question or something you guys want to tell me. I'm here.
Yeah I totally get it (same anon btw) it's been so long and things are obviously not the same, for good ☺ again I'm genuinely so happy for you 🫂 you were being missed blue ❤
Hey there. It's so nice to know that you're doing wayy better now and I'm also glad to know that you plan to come back soon. I do have a question tho but please let me know if it's insensitive of me to ask cause I really don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable. Are you planning on posting the last chapter of slasher jk? Again, please let me know if it makes you uncomfortable.
No, it's okay! I think so, to be honest i don't know. It's a very heavy topic and i used to do better with non con before, but i don't know now. Of course, i will try to end that one and the ewe and the captive bolt.
I just feel like I need to re-read evrything since i'm not the same person that wrote those stories. I hope that make sense.
hi!! how r u doin? im curious if you’ll ever be back? u really have a unique way of writing >:(
Hello! Happy 2026, everybody. I'm doing much better now, i'm on medication and i live by myself now haha, i hope everyone it's okay.
Yes, i'm working on things i want to post. I need to be honest, i don't know when it's that, but i hope soon.
I'll be back, my writing will probably be a little bit more slow burn, but i hope you guys like that.
Love you all, and thank you for reading everything i've done. I will be reviewing some things because I know some of my work came from very dark places. But thank you nontheless. See ya :3
Best friend! Jimin, who has always had an infatuation with you. Who dreamed that one day you would realize his disgusting longing for you, for your smell, for your shining eyes when you looked at something you liked, the touch of your freshly painted nails, your lavender perfume, of which he has that sample you lost at the movie theater. He kept it in his room for when he… needed it.
Please don't think he's a pervert. He's an incredible friend: he listens attentively to your problems, his shoulder is a home for your torments, and he makes you laugh like no one else. When no one else was around, Jimin was there for you, and you didn't have to say much to him to get him to your small apartment on 56th.
Jimin opened the door, and the acrid smell of weed had already filled the kitchen and living room. No matter how much Jimin begged Yoongi not to, he always sold you those two joints in a little bag decorated with hearts and rainbows.
And there you were on the couch, watching the same series for the umpteenth time, laughing as if it were the first. Hearing Jimin clear his throat, you sat up, your eyes watering instantly. Jimin opened his arms, letting your body melt into him. Intelligible sobs and wails about your boyfriend dumping you again because you didn't want to have a threesome with a blonde from his law school.
Jimin had already learned three things about you and these situations: not to take breakups between you two with too much hope, in moments like these, to say yes to every plan of revenge against him, and before getting to your apartment, to take it upon himself to get all the energy out of his body, aka jerking off in the shower until he came twice.
It wasn't that seeing you cry was attractive to him, it was the way you bit your lips and snuggled up so close to him. With such innocence and your small whimpers when he got up to get more popcorn.
While Larry David was fighting for the fifth time in the episode, Jimin had already thought of 11 ways to make you complain a little louder, more vocally, maybe in his ear or directly on his lips as you repeated his name instead of thinking of that piece of shit in a tie. He would treat you so well, his rings sparkling in the light from your nightlight as he held your hair and you asked for more like the obedient, ambitious little girl you were.
"Do you think if I send him this, he'll regret it?" Your voice was dense and soft, your eyes red, but they weren't from crying anymore.
Somehow, it was 1 am you both ended up in your bed listening to Badu. You were lying between all your pillows, and Jimin had his head on your stomach, his cheek pressed against the satin of your pajama dress, the weed keeping him meek and submissive to your ideas. His left eye opened, the bright screen revealing something that turned his poor heart upside down.
It was so cliché, it was perfect. Your body lying in the same position you were now, but you weren't wearing anything, your clear eyes open, your lips hidden between your fingers. The only thing covering you was that underwear with that little white bow. A true angel breaking down the walls of Jimin's fantasies.
He doesn't know how long he spent staring at the photo, nor the clever response of making your boyfriend wait; men like that. He doesn't know how long he spent waiting for you to fall asleep and for him to take the phone in his hand.
Please, again, don't think he's a pervert. He's a fantastic friend: he listened to your sorrows, he advised you not to call the guy when you cried on his shoulder again, he made you real food when you refused to eat Cup Noodles again.
But how dare you show yourself like that to the man who yearns for you the most and then take the candy away with a smile? Shameless.
You shameless, ungrateful, clumsy, spoiled girl. You sent him every single photo: in your underwear, just getting out of the shower with the towel between your teeth, after shaving, before, arched on the mat, toes on tiptoe to show off your ass and your smile like the greatest trophy, in the gym, the bathroom of a park, small skirts, tongue out. Just desperate. Cruel too, your smile and every curve.
With the phone being the brightest light in the room, the soft music in the background, and the smell of hazelnut cream on your skin. Well, it wasn't the weed that had him high in the clouds anymore but rather drowned between one pixel and the next. His cock throbbed rapidly in his sweats.
He was an incredible friend, but also a pervert. He couldn't stand it anymore. Fuck it if you find him, the consequences would come tomorrow.
His fingers approached the tip of his cock, wet and sticky. His full lips parted and his eyes closed, the image of your pussy imprinted in the black void behind his eyelids. He seemed to twitch with the same intensity as the nerves around his member. His hand awkwardly and clumsily found a way to position itself around it as he buried his face in your pajamas and exhaled silently. If he did it gently and as quietly as possible, you might not even notice his twitching with each scroll of his finger to the next photo and the next.
His head shot back to the ceiling as he was no longer conscious of anything except that animalistic desire to let go of everything around him. His hand moved frantically beneath his sweatpants.
"Drop the phone," your voice was barely a whisper, but Jimin stopped when your hand tangled in his blond hair and the other firmly covered his mouth. "You're so dumb, Minnie." You laughed, shaking your head, your fingers tugged at his hair, and a growl muffled and collided with your fingers.
"Did you just roll your eyes, you fucking perv?"
Jimin frowned, wanting to apologize and never see you again. But he was surprised to find himself nodding at your teasing. Your soft eyes softened, and your devilish smile widened.
"If you're going to be a pervert, let me help you."
You touched nothing but his hair and lips, your words burning into his embarrassment, stinging his ears and cheeks, saliva seeping through your fingers with every compliment you gave him as his hand moved up and down with torturous slowness so you could see the ejaculation flow out and fall onto his defined, taut abdomen. His shirt bulged out above his chest, sweaty and forgotten.
"Good boy, Minnie." You purred as he gasped for air, the pink shadow of your hand imprinted on Jimin's mouth.
You were depraved, cruel, and mocking. But that made you the perfect friend for him.
I just wanted to say I absolutely love, love, love your writing. In fact, you've written one of my fav all time fics ever. I want you to know that I don't think you failed us. I am so so grateful that you loved writing and went out of your way to share your amazing talent with us. Ngl Ik how hard it can be when something you love can become something you physically can't bring yourself to do anymore. So yeah, what I'm trying to say is the fact that you've come this far with everything including your writing is a success in itself and I am so proud of you for that. I'm sure many others also feel the same way.
I'm rooting for you <3 Thanks again for sharing your talents and your story (it couldn't have been easy)
Sorry I don't think that was v coherent.
~ 🤩
I'm crying a little bit right now, I feel so privileged to have you, every single one of you.
Hello, I just saw your latest post. I hope you heal from everything, find peace, true love (romantically or not) and freedom in every way possible, financially or humanly speaking. Life is beautiful, please never give up on it and always stay hopeful to attract positivity. Have a good day.
Hi, sorry I haven't answer in months. Thank you so much for the kind words, my love. I am doing better now and trying to be better everyday. ♡
hi, goodnight everybody. i'm here again to tell you all, even though it's very obvious, that this blog is dead for good. for good. life has been really fucking disgusting these past few months, i tried to date people right after a big break-up, it always ends up hurting me more and it always ends with a bisexual fetish shit.
so you can see that sex has been a very complicated topic to talk about since i discovered that some of the memories i have of my ex are actually SA. it's overwhelming, it's disgusting but I can't stop thinking about it (hence the porn addiction i talked about before) and I can't write about it without wanting to puke and dispose of my skin.
that sinking in the chest arose again. my sexuality, my gender and my pockets are destroying my happiness and I've been thinking about pointy objects and death again. do not worry I'm trying to get better.
i can't like girls were i live, i can't be a man and a woman or none were i live and i can't be happy in my own house because i have no privacy. i have two jobs now and I just come home to sleep. writing feels like a chore, a heavy one. i hope you all can forgive me and understand this.
if you want to talk, i'm here, i'm still using the app and I'm always available if you need help, if you just want to rant, whatever. God knows i needed someone like that this year. im going to therapy even though it's making me more broke, I'm trying to move out, I'm trying to process the fact that I was raped by the person I love the most and I didn't even think about the possibility of being that until he broke up with me, I'm trying to quit porn all together. that's the short story.
text me, i'll answer; love you; thank you so much for reading the stuff i wrote and i'm sorry, not only because I failed you guys but because I really enjoyed writing.
i hope that, if, when this big wave settles, i can come back with more weird things to write about. take care.
i genuinely want slasher!jk so bad i’m losing my mind… i keep rereading the chapters bc bc… uhm… im very normal ab that man haha…
i'm so normal about him that i wake up and just think about him, every morning. 😄 and out of nowhere I start barking to the emptiness of my ceiling, bloodshot eyes, foam and drool accumulating in the corners of my mouth, nails tearing the worn out sheets of my unmade bed. my vision blurs and goes white and i can see, yes, there...at the right side of God, slasher!jk's mullet and bloody face smiling at me.
(i'll write as soon as possible, i'm sorry i just kinda like someone and can't function properly these days)
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