Jun 11
2026 BTS FESTA
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2026 BTS FESTA
WHEN NO MEANS NOTHING.
Pairing: Idol Taehyung x reader.
Taehyung is very manipulative in this.
Content Warning: This story contains dark yandere themes, obsessive and manipulative behavior, and psychological coercion. It includes jealousy, surveillance, and Taehyung being an asshole at times. There are elements of humiliation, verbal domination, manipulative sex, and degradation, as well as sexual tension and suggestive sexual content.
Summary: You thought you could say no. You thought you could stay untouchable. But Kim Taehyung doesn’t take no for an answer. As your life unravels, you finds yourself drawn into his world, trembling, vulnerable, and exactly where he always wanted you—helpless, obedient, on his cock and wanting more than you ever imagined. He wasn't what he showed to his fans.
Part 2.
Few days ago taehyung proposed to you, wanted you to be his woman. With his charming smiles and big buff body under his cute little shirt - his cheek tinted when he asked you out, you gave him some time to think about it. You practiced. Practically practiced that what will you say The Kim Taehyung? The man whole world desires?
The café wasn’t anything special. A hole in the wall, tucked on the quieter end of the street where the neon bled softer and no one looked up from their phones. You’d chosen it on purpose. Neutral territory. No fans, no cameras, no excuses.
The chair across from you scraped softly against the floor as he sat down.
Kim Taehyung.
Even with the baseball cap tugged low and the mask slouched around his chin, he looked like sin dipped in honey. His sweatshirt was oversized, casual, and yet somehow regal because no matter how he dressed, Taehyung always looked like he was just playing at being ordinary.
He leaned back, studying you in that unhurried way that made you want to squirm.
“hey, did you think about my proposal?” Taehyung asked softly, looking at you. You squirmed softly, crossing the arms over your soft maroon sweater.
“Uh, actually about that–”
“You don’t drink enough water,” he said suddenly, nodding at your latte. His voice was lazy silk, rich and low. “I can tell from your lips.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
He just smiled, slow and knowing. “Nothing. Just an observation.”
That was the problem with him. The casual remarks that weren’t casual. The weight behind every word, like he was letting you in on a private joke that only he understood.
You curled your hands tighter around your cup. The steam fogged your lashes as you tried to breathe past the lump in your throat.
“I care about you,” you started carefully.
His eyes sharpened, though his face remained perfectly still.
“Really, I do,” you pressed on. “But… I can’t. Not right now. My career—your career, especially your career it’s too much. Dating just isn’t what I’m looking for.”
There. Said. The air between you felt suddenly heavier, the hum of the espresso machine too loud, too sharp.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared at you, like you were a puzzle piece refusing to fit where he wanted.
Your heart thudded against your ribs. You waited for a flash of irritation, maybe a scoff, maybe even the signature Taehyung laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all but a razor hidden in velvet.
“So you're rejecting me?”
That me made my skin crawl.
“Not specifically you tae, its just- urm, I don't know, I'm not just into dating.” You tried to compose yourself, but guilt was killing you. Taehyung is a nice guy, but you're just, not ready.
Instead, he smiled.
Soft. Polite. Devastating.
“I see,” he murmured, tilting his head. His tone was warm, calm. The kind of tone that should’ve soothed you but only made the back of your neck prickle. “You’re right. Timing is everything.”
You swallowed. “I… I hope you understand.”
“Of course.” He reached for his cup, lifting it with long fingers that didn’t shake even once. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
Relief bloomed in your chest so fast it almost hurt.
“Always,” you said softly, managing a smile.
And then the conversation shifted effortlessly, like he’d let you steer it elsewhere. He asked about your work, teased you gently about your sleep habits, even offered to recommend a nutritionist he knew. It was normal, casual, safe.
Too safe.
When the bill came, he insisted on paying. “My treat. Consider it a thank you for your honesty.” His lips curved in that practiced, easy grin, and you found yourself nodding, grateful he wasn’t making this hard.
But as he stood and pulled his mask back into place, his eyes lingered on you. Just a second too long. Like he was memorizing your shape in that chair, the way your fingers twitched nervously against your cup.
You didn’t notice the tension in his jaw. Didn’t see how his smile faltered the second you dropped your gaze to your phone.
You only saw the polite wave as he slipped out the door, leaving you with the faint smell of coffee and his cologne in the air.
---
Outside, the night air was cool against his face. He tugged his cap lower, slipping through the shadows like it was second nature.
You said no.
To him.
The thought pressed like a bruise against his skull. Every step he took, it pulsed harder. Louder.
The most desired man in the world. And you—soft voice, soft smile, trembling hands you had told him no.
He reached his car, slid inside, and sat in silence for a long moment. His reflection stared back at him in the black glass of the windshield. Blank. Calm. Controlled.
But his fingers curled so tightly around the steering wheel the leather groaned.
You didn’t think this through, did you?
The whisper slipped from his mouth before he could stop it. A private murmur, swallowed by the hum of the engine as he turned the key.
Timing is everything.
And he had all the time in the world.
Few weeks were normal for you, you kept meeting taehyung and his members. They all are working on their upcoming album so sometimes schedule is hectic. But slowly, things started to fall apart.
Your manager called with a strained voice two days later: “There’s a mix-up with your schedule. Your interview’s canceled.” No explanation. Fine, mistakes happen.
Your best friend didn’t answer your texts for the first time in years. You shrugged it off—busy, right? Except the next day her number was disconnected.
You misplaced your keys three times in a single week, though you swore you left them in the same place. Your credit card declined at the grocery store, even though you’d checked your balance. The cashier gave you that pity look, the one that burned worse than a slap.
And every night every single night you swore you felt eyes on you.
It was absurd. You’d never been the paranoid type. But when you turned in your bed, curtains swaying though no window was open, shadows seemed thicker. Heavier. You told yourself it was stress. Work stress. Career stress. Not him.
Never him.
But then you’d remember the way he’d smiled at you, so polite, so soft, like he was filing your words away. Like rejection was just… a pending plan.
One evening, you ran into him again. Coincidence. It had to be. The industry was small, and you moved in overlapping circles. You tried not to stiffen when you spotted him across the room, dressed in black, hair falling into his eyes. He looked like every fantasy your fans whispered online, except his gaze wasn’t on them. It was on you.
You told yourself to be normal. You smiled, lifted your hand in a tiny wave. His lips curled again. That same smile. He approached, slow, deliberate, like a wolf who’d never had to run to catch prey.
“—,” he said your name smoothly, stopping close enough that his cologne wrapped around you, musky, dark, too much. “You look tired.”
You blinked. “I… it’s been a busy week.”
“Busy.” He tilted his head, studying your face. “Or troubled?”
Your stomach dropped. “I’m fine.” Your voice timid and dull. Taehyung tilted his head brushing your french bangs away from your forehead.
Your Jerked your head away.
His eyes darkened.
He hummed, low in his throat, the sound vibrating like he didn’t believe you. “You know, when people lie, they forget their eyes give them away.”
You crossed your arms, defensive. “I’m not lying.”
He leaned in—not touching, but close enough that your heartbeat slammed against your ribs. His voice was a whisper. “Maybe not to me. But to yourself.”
The world tilted. For a second you forgot where you were, how many people were in the same room. It was like he’d built a cage with nothing but words, and you’d stepped into it willingly.
And then he leaned back, smiling again, polite, sweet. “Take care of yourself.”
He walked away.
The hybe break shop had always been your refuge. Nobody cared who you were there. Students hunched over laptops, tired office workers with earbuds in, the faint hiss of the espresso machine. A place where you could breathe without the weight of eyes.
Except tonight.
You spotted him before he spotted you—or maybe he’d seen you first, and you only thought you were quicker. He was at the corner table, long fingers curled around a porcelain cup, rings glinting under the warm light. Kim Taehyung, the man who wasn’t supposed to blend, yet somehow sat there like he owned the air.
His gaze lifted lazily, caught yours across the room, and that damn polite smile surfaced again.
You froze. Leaving would look too obvious. So you inhaled, squared your shoulders, and ordered your drink. Maybe he wouldn’t come over.
Except he did.
“You like caramel lattes,” he murmured when you slid into a booth, not asking permission to sit opposite you. His voice was low, casual, like he was simply stating the weather. “Always extra syrup.”
You blinked. “…How do you—”
His smile didn’t falter. “You’ve ordered them before. People notice things when they’re interested.”
Your stomach twisted. “You… remember that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He leaned back, eyes flicking over your face, then lower, too slow. “You’re not easy to forget.”
You gripped your cup too tightly. Steam fogged against your lip. “Taehyung…”
“What?” His tone was pure silk, but the question cut sharp.
“I told you… I’m not looking for anything right now.”
He chuckled, soft, like you’d told a child’s lie. “You think this is about dating? I’m just sitting with a friend.”
It should’ve sounded harmless. It didn’t.
Then the door jingled, and a coworker from your agency walked in — a man. He spotted you, grinned, raised a hand in greeting. Relief surged through you, something normal, familiar. You half-stood to wave back, but Taehyung’s voice slid between your ribs.
“You seem close,” he said lightly, eyes not leaving your face.
Your breath caught. “…He’s just a colleague.”
“Mm.” He sipped his drink, slow, thoughtful. “Do colleagues usually smile like that?”
You looked again. The man was just waiting in line, phone in hand, casual. Nothing unusual. “It’s not like that.”
Taehyung hummed. Not a word, not a sound of agreement, just a low vibration in his throat that made your skin prickle.
“Pretty dresses suits you,” Taehyung muttered softly, rubbing his lower lips with his finger. You didn't look at him, didn't want to see the intense stare that was leaving you bare.
“By the way, they do give that.” Taehyung spoke up again, you looked at him. “Give what?” you frowned softly, he smiled and tilted his head.
“The advance payment.”
You got quiet.
How does he knows that I'm facing financial issues too?
The colleague never came over. He glanced at you one last time on his way out, hesitated, then left. You realized only after the door shut that Taehyung’s gaze had been fixed on him the entire time. Cold. Measuring. Warning.
Your stomach sank.
The first rumor came small, like a paper cut. Barely there. A headline buried in the entertainment section: — Attitude Causes Strain on Set. You almost laughed when you saw it because you’d shown up early every day, taken direction politely, stayed quiet. But the words were there, cold in black ink, and people would believe them more than they’d ever believe you.
The second rumor came sharper: Secret mission Gone Wrong? — Tried to get in company last night. Your blood iced. The woman looked like you, but it wasn’t you. “whispers of private meetings.” Your phone buzzed endlessly, texts pinging with gossip, coworkers’ names flashing only to vanish seconds later. When you tried to answer, the calls cut short. Blocked.
And then came the photos. Paparazzi shots of you, blurred and unflattering, paired with captions that twisted you cruelly. Cold. Arrogant. Difficult. Your inbox filled with strangers spitting venom, accusing you of arrogance, of throwing away opportunities girls would kill for.
You pressed your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.
You told yourself not to cry. Crying gave it power. But one night, sitting on your bed with your phone buzzing endlessly beside you, the weight cracked you open. Tears slipped down your cheeks, soft and quiet, your body curling small as if you could make yourself invisible.
You whispered to the dark, voice trembling. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
And then your phone lit up. A message. From him.
You don’t have to explain yourself to them. They’ll never understand you the way I do.
You froze, tears streaking your face.
Another ping. Stop trying to fight alone. It only makes you tired.
Your breath hitched. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But the words burned into your chest, terrible comfort. Because he was right you were exhausted.
The next day, you dragged yourself to the studio. Work was supposed to anchor you. Instead, you walked in to silence. Conversations died when you entered. People avoided your gaze. Your name was missing from the board of upcoming projects.
Your manager wouldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, shuffling papers. “They… don’t want to move forward with you right now. Sponsors pulled out.”
Your throat closed. “But I didn’t—”
“It’s not about truth,” he cut in, voice thin. “It’s about perception. And right now… you’re poison.”
The words gutted you.
You stumbled out of the building, sunglasses hiding your wet eyes, and nearly collapsed onto the curb. Cars blurred past, honking. People bustled, uncaring. The world spun like it had no room for you in it anymore.
And then, through the haze, a shadow fell across you. A handkerchief appeared, folded neatly. A voice like velvet.
“Why are you crying, love?”
You looked up, and there he was. Kim Taehyung. Perfect suit, perfect face, crouched like a savior in the middle of your ruin. His gaze was soft, warm even, but too steady. Like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.
“I—I didn’t do anything,” you whispered, broken. “I swear I didn’t—”
His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek, gentle, too intimate for the sidewalk. “I know,” he murmured. “I told you. They’ll never understand you. But I do.”
Your lips trembled. “Taehyung…”
He smiled, the kind of smile that promised safety and danger in equal measure. “Come with me. You’re too tired to fight anymore. Let me take care of you.”
The words sank like honey and chains at once.
And for the first time, you didn’t argue.
His apartment wasn’t what you expected. You thought it would be cold, museum-like, but it was warm, almost domestic—dim golden lights, shelves stacked with books, the faint scent of cedar and something richer, darker.
He got some weird things at his home, weird chairs on his dinning. Kinda funny.
He guided you inside like you were fragile porcelain. His hand never left the small of your back. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice so soft it made your chest ache. “Sit. Rest.”
You sank onto the sofa, small against the plush cushions. Your throat still ached from crying. Your hands twisted in your lap.
He returned with a glass of water, crouched in front of you. “Drink.” The command was quiet, velvet-wrapped steel. You obeyed without thinking. The water was cool, grounding. His fingers brushed yours as he took the glass back, lingering too long.
“You’ve been running yourself ragged,” he said, studying your face like he was memorizing every detail. “All because you thought you could do this alone.”
“I didn’t…” Your voice cracked. “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”
His thumb traced your cheekbone, gentle, reverent. “It always gets bad, love. People are cruel. They take and take until there’s nothing left.” His eyes darkened. “But I don’t want to take from you. I want to give.”
The words wrapped around you like a blanket. Your chest heaved. You hated how much you wanted to believe him.
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Let me be the one who carries it for you. Let me keep you safe.”
Your tears blurred again. You didn’t protest when his hand cupped your jaw. Didn’t flinch when his lips brushed your temple, feather-light. The contact sent a tremor down your spine, equal parts comfort and warning.
“Taehyung…” you breathed, unsure if it was plea or protest.
He smiled against your skin. “That’s it. Say my name. It sounds better when you’re trembling.”
Heat flooded your cheeks. You tried to pull back, but his hand held you steady, thumb stroking soothingly like you were a frightened bird.
“You’re so tired,” he murmured, lips moving lower, grazing your cheek. “Let me make it better.”
And then his mouth was on yours. Slow at first, almost tender — just enough to break you open. You gasped, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss until your head spun. His tongue slid against yours, deliberate, tasting, claiming.
When you finally broke for air, your lips were swollen, breath ragged. His smile curved, soft and sharp all at once.
“There,” he whispered. “Doesn’t that feel easier? Not having to think. Just letting me… handle you.”
Your heart pounded. “This is—this is wrong…”
“Wrong?” He chuckled, low and dangerous. “You’ve been falling apart in front of the whole world, and I’m the only one who came when you cried. Tell me, love what’s wrong about that?”
His mouth pressed to your throat, sucking softly until your pulse stuttered. His hands slid lower, over your waist, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap without realizing how it happened. His voice rumbled against your skin.
“You’re mine now. Not because I asked.” His teeth grazed your neck, sharp enough to make you gasp. “Because you came to me. Because you need me.”
Your body trembled, torn between panic and heat, and he laughed softly, feeling it.
“Don’t worry,” he purred. “I’ll make sure you never want to leave.”
Your dress felt too innocent for this room. White, airy, made for sunlit gardens not the low amber glow of his apartment, not the weight of his stare. The skirt brushed against your thighs as you straddled him, trembling, lips still swollen from his kiss.
Taehyung’s gaze swept down your body slowly, reverently, like he was cataloging every frill and bow, every inch of exposed skin. His thumb dragged across the small bow at your bust, tugging lightly until the ribbon slipped loose.
“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” His voice was a dark purr.
“I—I didn’t—”
“Mm.” He smirked, leaning back on the sofa as if to better admire you. “So sweet. So soft. Sitting in my lap like a doll dressed for a tea party. But dolls don’t get wet, love.” His hand slid under the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing the inside of your thigh. You jolted, gasping.
Heat coiled low in your stomach, shame blooming hot on your cheeks. “Tae—”
“Shh.” He gripped your hip, pulling you down harder against the outline straining in his pants. “Feel that? That’s how badly I want you. And you… you’re shaking like a virgin in her pretty white dress. Cute.”
His words made your pulse stutter. You buried your face against his neck, trying to hide, but he chuckled, low and cruel.
“No, no, don’t hide. Let me see.” His hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. His expression was darkly tender, as if humiliation was a gift he was unwrapping. “Look at you. Blushing, squirming. I bet your panties are soaked already.”
Your breath hitched, shame prickling. His fingers pushed higher under your skirt, finding the damp heat between your thighs, stroking over the thin fabric. His grin widened.
“Just as I thought. Dripping for me.” He pressed harder, circling slowly until your hips betrayed you, rocking against his touch. “God, you’re needy. You act so polite, so careful, but your body tells the truth. Doesn’t it?”
“T-Taehyung…”
“What is it, love?” He pinched your chin with his free hand, forcing you to look at him while his fingers rubbed you mercilessly through the soaked fabric. “Say it. Say what you need.”
Your lips trembled. “Please…”
He leaned closer, breath hot against your ear. “Please what? You want me to fuck you in this sweet little dress? Ruin it so you can never wear it in public again?”
The words made you shiver, your thighs pressing tighter around his hand.
“That’s it,” he murmured, sliding the damp panties aside, his fingers finding your bare heat. The first touch of his skin against you tore a moan from your throat. His eyes glittered. “So wet. So easy to open.” He slid one finger inside, slow and deliberate, watching your face twist with pleasure and shame.
“Look at you,” he whispered. “Falling apart on my hand already. You wanted this. Even when you said no—you wanted me to break you open like this.”
Your breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed deeper, curling just right, his thumb circling your clit. Your hips bucked helplessly against him, the sundress riding higher, frills bunched around your waist.
“Fuck,” he growled, his composure slipping for a heartbeat. “I could keep you like this forever pretty little doll, moaning on my lap, dress rucked up so I can touch you whenever I want.” He nipped your jaw, hard enough to sting. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being mine to use?”
Your whimper betrayed you. His grin turned feral.
“Say it,” he demanded, fingers thrusting harder, wetter. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“I—” Your voice broke, shame tangling with pleasure.
“Say it,” he snarled, pushing a second finger inside, stretching you, making your body arch against him.
Your cry spilled before you could think. “Y-you—Taehyung!”
He hissed in satisfaction, grinding you down against his palm, fucking you with his fingers until slick coated his rings, shining in the dim light.
“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he murmured, kissing you hard, filthy, tongue claiming your mouth. “But I’m not done. Not until you’re ruined for anyone else.”
His fingers went to your bow, tugging it down making your breast drop. You gulped. Not wanting this, your head screaming to run and body screaming to let him do what you both need.
His mouth attached your nipples, sucking rolling his tongue around it. He suck harder forcing a hiccups out of you. “You can’t hide how much you want this. I feel it crawling under your skin.”
You came around his fingers. He sucked his finger then kissed you again.
“I’m not gentle because I care… I’m gentle because I’m in control.”
You could only gasp, shivering, trembling, entirely consumed by the weight of him, the sharp pull of his possessive words, and the delicious heat coiling low in your body. He pressed closer, voice dropping low and rough in your ear. “I’ve wanted this from the start. Your no… it made me hungrier. Made me wait longer. Made this… inevitable.”
He went down on you.
Taehyung parted your thighs with a murmur of endearment, his breath hot against your core. “Let me make it better,” he cooed, his tongue delving into your folds with slow, deliberate strokes. He lapped at you tenderly, circling your clit until it throbbed, his fingers slipping inside to stroke your inner walls with a rhythm that built a reluctant heat.
You whimpered, soft and needy, your body responding even as tears pricked your eyes from the emotional storm.
“You taste like all the sin I’ve wanted… all of it.” Taehyung lapped faster, his own trousers down humping slowly on his couch. You met your second orgasm. More tears rolled down your eyes.
When he rose, his cock hard and ready, he positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip against your slick entrance.
“You're so beautiful like this,” he breathed, eyes locked on yours with yandere devotion. “All mine.” He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, filling you with a stretch that made you gasp, your walls clenching around him in vulnerable surrender.
His other hand went to your breast - cupping them, sucking the other nipple. Grunting against your nipples. “Tell me why can't I stop thinking about you, hm? What the fuck did you just do to me.”
His words were — harsh, with heavy amount of yearning. He thrusted upwards again, making you arch back. “when I look at you..” He choked out, his other hand went to my clit, firm circles while his cock went in and out.
“..It fucking terrifies me, what I'll do for you.”
He rocked hips.
Slow.
Steady.
Deep.
His hand went to your hips, gripping them pulling you down again - gripping the flush like he is going to make me feel him for days.
“I broke my rules for you,” he almost whimpered, kissing me again. Diving his tongue inside my mouth, licking every bit of it.
As he began to thrust, deep and measured, his hips rolling against yours in a gentle cadence, you glanced up at the ceiling.
There, in the dim light, a small red dot blinked steadily — a camera, watching, recording. You stopped, mouth gap as he hit the g-spot again.
He was recording.
Everything.
All the air knocked out of your lungs as he thrusted upwards. All planned.
Your stomach dropped. He was making sex tape.
You gasped the tears out, as he thrusted again. “My pretty parrot, so fucking tight for me,” he grunted.
Panic flickered through you, the realization that this moment, your vulnerability laid bare, was being captured forever. But it was too late. Taehyung was already buried inside you, his movements tender yet unyielding, whispering sweet nothings against your ear.
“Feel how perfect we are together?” he murmured, his voice like velvet as he drove deeper, his cock gliding along your sensitive spots.
“I love you so much. No one will ever take you from me.” His hands cradled your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts, the friction building a warmth that spread through your core.
You gasped softly, tears slipping down your cheeks, your body soft and pliant beneath him, caught in the web of his obsession.
He kissed away your tears, his pace quickening just enough to push you toward the edge, his length pulsing inside you. “Come for me, my love,” he urged gently, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit in slow circles.
The pleasure crested unwillingly, your orgasm washing over you in waves, walls fluttering around his cock as you cried out his name.
Taehyung followed soon after, groaning softly as he spilled into you, hot and claiming, his seed filling you completely. He stayed pressed against you, softening inside, his arms wrapping around your fragile form.
“You're safe now,” he whispered, nuzzling your neck. “Forever with me.” In that moment, vulnerable and ensnared, you knew escape was a distant dream—his love, twisted and all-consuming, had won.
That forever with me felt like a cage.
I'm scared cause that was true, I'm stuck with him forever.
It was never about saying no to him. It was about — that No Meant Nothing to him.
dream encounter
you meet the man of your dreams. literally.
pairing: jeongguk x reader
warnings: swearing, 18+ content, usage of violent terms, reader is hoooornyyy
wc: ~3k
a/n: inspired by personal experience. i'm still grieving.
you stumble into a dark alleyway, lips locked with another's. coming up for air, you inspect the man practically attached to you.
tall, buff, tattooed, smooookin'. lips plumper than ripe berries and eyes brighter than stars in a pitch black night sky.
god damn.
no time to think.
you grab him by the collar and devour him anew.
you tangle your hands in his soft locks, and he impatiently gropes the flesh of your ass. sighing into the kiss, you rub against his hard bulge.
you have never been so content. truthfully, you can keep going just like this for a few hours, minimum.
"need you," you mumble.
swiftly turning you around, he pins you against the wall. you're sandwiched between the wall and his firm body, pressing against your core just right.
hot breath against your ear, he whispers behind you, "make pretty noises for me, beautiful."
with you distracted, he sneaks an arm across your waist and dips it into your panties.
right as his fingers brush your lower belly and reach where you need him most desperately,
you wake up.
and you scream.
loud.
"jesus did someone die?" your roommate busts into your room, frantic and concerned as ever. "what the hell is the matter with you?"
in silent defeat, you grab your pillow and smash it against your face.
sighing and no longer concerned for your wellbeing, she leaves your room confused but somewhat used to your antics.
rubbing your legs together, you almost cry under your covers. guess your fingers will have to do, yet again.
"you do not understand. that was my fucking soulmate."
"a guy your brain made up touches you once and he's your soulmate?"
"shut up. you literally don't get it. i am so utterly devastated i could kill someone."
"you know what really is devastating? being in a dry spell so severe your brain has to resort to making up hallucinations."
"you have 3 seconds to run before i kill you."
"the only way you'll be killing me is with your delusion. i think i'm good."
"it's not funny! i saw his face, i physically felt his hands! this was like, cosmic. otherworldly. life-changing."
"you mean panty-changing."
"you dare mock my feelings? i woke up and felt like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it. like my other half was ripped from my hands. like we were connected in a past life. like-"
she snorts, "yeah, connected by divine pussy."
"i'm mourning. i'm mourning and you're laughing."
"mourning!!" she laughs in disbelief, "you sound like you just got dumped by casper the horny ghost."
"i swear to god-" you chase her around the apartment for a solid 15 minutes after that.
two weeks have passed since your.. very realistic dream.
you've forgotten about it, but you could feel it in your body that your brain chemistry was altered. people may think you're exaggerating, but you really mean it when you say you haven't been the same ever since.
food doesn’t taste right. music doesn’t hit the same. the sun? dimmer. the first sip of hot coffee on a chilly morning? slightly colder.
maybe your roommate was right. maybe you're simply too touch deprived.
god, this is sad.
as you finish adding the last few things on your grocery list to your cart, you turn around to head to checkout. until you accidentally bump into someone.
"sorry! sorry!" you blurt, immediately bending down to help the stranger pick up what he dropped.
"shit, no worries," he says, crouching down to help you.
and that's when you see it; his tattooed hand.
what is it with you and tattooed men? the universe must really be torturing you. this was like dangling candy in front of a child then snatching it away, knowing you were never gonna give it to them in the first place. cruel.
"you really don't have to, it's fine," he adds.
wait.. that voice? sounds familiar?
you slowly, slowly stand up, heart pounding in your chest, finally meeting the stranger's eyes.
your soul leaves your body. your eyes damn near pop out of their sockets.
you stand there silent, like a damn fool. smiling awkwardly, he takes his stuff and walks away.
you don’t move. you don’t breathe. was this… was this another hallucination? are you so horny that your brain has started projecting men into real life like some kind of thirst-induced hologram?
you slap yourself once. no, surely not.
you slap yourself again. nope. pain is real. surely you’re not that mentally unwell. right? right? you had your mental issues but you were certain none came with hallucinations.
peeking over at checkout, you see him there, bagging his items like it’s just another tuesday. then he leaves, disappearing out the automatic doors. just like that.
you’re frozen, gripping your bag of frozen blueberries like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality.
he's real. this has to be some cosmic joke.
"babe, life isn't a k-drama," your roommate says, voice dripping with sarcasm as she flops onto the couch, completely dismissing your very real emotional crisis. "listen. i know how you feel. dry spells are no joke."
you facepalm.
"no, really!" she continues, undeterred. "one time i went 3 months without dick thought i started having revelations from the heavens above."
you glare at her. "cut your shit, i'm serious! he was real and he looked exactly the same as the dream. maybe slightly taller and definitely hotter, but it was him."
she raises an eyebrow, not even trying to hide her amusement. "so, let me get this straight." she leans in, finally entertaining your story for a minute.
"you mean to tell me that you experienced textbook soulmate-ism; seeing a complete stranger in a dream and then accidentally bumping into him a few weeks later? that you’ve met in a past life, or that your souls are like, intertwined in some deeply meaningful, cosmic way? a destined interaction?" she mocks as she wiggles her fingers, mimicking magic.
she wiggles her fingers dramatically, mimicking magic, and you groan so loud it echoes.
turning on your heel, you storm back toward your room. you don't know why you even bothered to begin with.
"wait, wait!" she calls after you, cackling. "you know, taehyung's not dating anyone right now. want me to send you his number?"
you ignore her, marching faster.
"ooo, since you're psychic now, can you tell me my grade on tomorrow's test? or what my mom's cooking for lunch today?" she adds, trailing behind you like an annoying toddler.
you slam the door in her face so hard the hinges rattle.
serves her right.
you are going to kill your roommate.
one, for not believing you.
and two, for dragging you to a club where taehyung conveniently happened to be, and her only informing you as you were literally walking in.
he's not bad by any means, not at all. in fact, he's got the whole package. good looks, charismatic, talented and has men and women tripping over themselves for his attention.
your point is proven when you immediately spot him speaking to three women. you're no body language expert, but five more minutes of him entertaining them and they're gonna pounce on him.
you're just.. not interested.
you had met before at one of your roommate's work outings. you chatted for a bit, shared a drink. it took you, what? an hour? maybe less, to realize that friends were all you could ever be. the chemistry just wasn't there.
you don't actually hate your roommate for it, you know she just wants you to be happy. you're just irritated because you're so horny. and the only relief you've gotten in the past two years was your recent sex dream. that one touch was enough to send you spiraling into madness. she was right, dry spells really are no joke.
after 20 minutes of forced small talk, fake smiling, and one or maybe two shots later, you excuse yourself to the bathroom; thankful for any relief from this endless and agonizing night. horny and bored out of your mind do not go well together.
in front of the mirror, you stare at your reflection. get it together.
you fix your hair, touch up your makeup, and give yourself a little pep talk.
tonight this ends. you’re not walking out of here empty-handed.
be it taehyung or literally anyone else, someone is coming home with you. no more of this pathetic nonsense. your fingers deserve a break. so do your batteries.
as you dry your hands and exit the bathroom, you almost trip. before you faceplant into the floor, firm hands grab your waist, steading you.
you sigh in relief. a broken ankle definitely meant no dick tonight. you were that desperate.
"easy there," a voice says, rich and smooth like velvet and honey. sugar, spice and everything nice.
oh, no. no. no. no.
cosmic joke? this is a full on prank.
your guy, yet again.
at this point, you're convinced you're either in a simulation or someone is filming this for a prank show. whoever was controlling your character needed to grant you some reprieve. some grace, please!
he’s smiling down at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "are you ever gonna say anything?" he teases. "so far you've just ogled me and stayed completely silent. have we met before?"
your brain short-circuits. the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a dreamy and borderline pathetic sigh, "yes, we have."
"we have?" he asks, brows knit together in confusion, head tilting slightly.
"i think i'd remember you," he adds as he grins. that smug, boyish kind of grin.
your heart is doing somersaults, but your brain kicks in just in time. shaking your head quickly, you wave it off like you didn’t just sound like a lovesick creep.
"sorry, no we haven't." you force out a chuckle. "must have misheard."
idiot, idiot, idiot.
he laughs softly, extending his hand, "jeongguk. nice to meet you."
you take his hand, trying not to combust from the electricity that shoots up your arm. instant sparks. "sorry for being a freak. you just... reminded me of someone."
his eyes twinkle. "all good memories, i hope?"
you laugh, nerves making it come out a little breathy.
"thank you for saving me."
you internally cringe at your choice of words. throwing yourself off the nearest bridge would be less painful than this.
'thank you for saving me?' what is this, a disney movie? It’s not like he pulled you from a burning building.
he chuckles, unfazed, and waves it off like it’s no big deal. "see you around, then."
walking away, yet again, he leaves you burning up and in awe.
many drinks later, you end up on the dancefloor, your roommate, god knows where, doing god knows what with god knows who. you've learned not to ask.
you dance (the testosterone) your heart out. you close your eyes and you let go for the first time that night.
swaying your hips, you feel a hand slide around your waist from behind, firm and confident. a spark shoots through you, electrifying every nerve. you're caught off guard, but you don’t stop.
leaning into the touch, your body instinctively recognizes the connection. the hand tightens slightly, fingers splaying against your hipbone, guiding you in perfect sync with the music. the warmth of a chest presses against your back, and your skin prickles with electricity.
you turn your head slightly, stealing a glance at the stranger behind you. but when your eyes catch his—your breath hitches in your throat. all words die right then and there. futile devices.
turning around to face him, you throw your arms around his neck, pressing your body dangerously close to his. instinctively, he makes a home for his hands on your hips, and like an intruder, makes way for a muscular thigh right in between yours.
"i think you're gonna kill me." he murmurs, his voice low and laced with lazy lust.
looking up at him, you're unable to hide the need that kisses every delicate feature on your face. eyes twinkling, lips slightly agape, eyebrows knit.
you can’t take much more of this.
without thinking, your hand finds his, and you tug him toward the edge of the dance floor. he follows without hesitation, his grip firm, a clear indicator of impatience rivaling yours.
stumbling out of the club, the night air hits your skin like a slap. pure whiplash to your practically scorching hot skin. a giggling mess, your hands tangle with your hot dream man's.
as he calls for a cab, you stand behind him. emboldened by the alcohol and adrenaline, you rise on your tiptoes and press your lips to his neck; inhaling the scent of sweat and cologne. oh how you've missed that smell.
his breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop you.
minutes pass. no cabs. no patience.
without a word, he grabs your wrist, his touch sending another jolt through you, and pulls you into a dark alley.
holy.
shit.
holy shit?
before you can process it, his lips are on yours, hot and demanding. you moan into his mouth, equal parts pleasure and relief. your dark days are behind you. the curse has been broken, your dry spell is finally over.
his hands find your waist as you press into him, mouths moving like you’ve done this a hundred times before. then, with a swift motion, he spins you around, your front hitting the cool, rough wall. his body is a furnace against yours, hands exploring like a man starved.
you can take a wild guess what happened next. only this time, there was nothing to wake you up.
maybe you'll become a psychic medium for a living.
a few months later, you and jeongguk start officially dating.
it was nice to finally put a name to the face.
one lazy sunday afternoon, you're both sprawled on the couch, his head resting in your lap as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. the soft hum of a movie plays in the background, but neither of you is really paying attention.
"you know i had a dream about you before i met you?" you blurt out, your voice casual but your heart racing the moment the words leave your mouth. sometimes you really are the very cause of your own demise.
jeongguk's eyes snap open, and he tilts his head to look up at you, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "come again?"
instantly regretting your admission, you try to brush it off, waving your hand dismissively as you shift, attempting to slide out from under him. "oh, it's nothing. forget i said anything."
"no, no. get back here," he chuckles, sitting up quickly and grabbing you by the waist before you can make your escape. with surprising ease, he spins you around, pulling you onto his lap.
"finish that thought," he says, his voice low and teasing, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"nothankyou!" you squeal, trying to wriggle free from his grasp and attempt to escape once more, but he’s stronger, and it's far too late now.
laughing, he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he gets up; trapping you in bicep jail.
"jeongguk! put me down!" you whine, your fists playfully pounding against his back as you kick your legs in protest. "let me oooouuutt!"
"i will," he says, taking slow, exaggerated steps toward the kitchen, "once you spill."
"fine, fine!" you huff dramatically. "put me down before my head explodes!"
he finally sets you down gently, but not without keeping his hands on your hips, his gaze locked onto yours with an expectant grin.
"well," you start, biting your bottom lip, "before i bumped into you that one time at the grocery store, i had a dream about you. and, uh… you looked exactly the same."
his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, he’s silent. then, a wide grin spreads across his face. "that is the craziest thing you've ever said. and you say some pretty crazy shit, might i add." he leans in closer, fully invested. "what kind of dream?"
you feel your cheeks heat up, turning beet red as you avert your gaze.
"baby...?" he draws out the word, his tone laced with playful curiosity. his fingers start poking your sides, making you squirm and giggle. "what kind of dream?"
"well, what do you think?" you yelp, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you cover your face with your hands. you find yourself wishing once more the earth would swallow you whole.
still confused, he racks his brain for a few moments before it finally dawns on him.
and then, laughter erupts. hearty and unrestrained, gradually making his whole body shake. "so that's why you were so weird back then?"
"gee, thanks!" you shoot back, rolling your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh along with him.
"am i wrong?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. "you had your mouth open like a fish. i was half expecting a fly to stumble right into your mouth."
"you've made your pointtt," you groan, dragging out the last word dramatically. "it's not every day you meet the man from your wet dreams, so yes, forgive me if i was a little tongue-tied."
crossing your arms, you try to look annoyed, but your smile gives you away.
"oh, i'll knock that attitude out of you," he grins mischievously.
before you can react, he scoops you up again and walks you over to the couch, dramatically plopping you down with exaggerated care. you squeal, laughing uncontrollably as he pins you beneath him, his face hovering inches from yours. you immediately regret your life decisions.
you never believed dreams came true.
but you are so, so thankful this one did.
taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @dollyunjinz
Hello everyone! I hope you are doing well. I tried to finish this set as soon as possible, it took me a while, but here it is.
I wanted to create a face overlay for my Taehyung sim (BTS V) for a long time, I wanted to make something not too realistic, respecting the maxis match style. You will see that there are several versions, I hope you like them! As for the hairstyles, at first I only thought of doing one, but I think they both follow the style of V quite well.
I hope you like it and enjoy it a lot! Please show me your sims when you make them :)
INFO
Hairstyles:
-Maxis match
-Base Game compatible
-Male, teen to elder
-Hat compatible
-All LODs
-Disabled for random
-Restricted for opposite frame
-EA swatches
-Custom thumbnail
Face overlay
-11 swatches
-Base Game compatible
-Male, teen to elder
-Disabled for random
-Restricted for opposite frame
-Custom thumbnail
-Patreon (Early access)
-My site (31/05)
-Please don’t reupload to other sites
-Please don't edit this hair, you can recolor but tell me first
-Enjoy!💜
Bonus:
King's Mate- V X Y/N. 02
PAIRING: King Taehyung x fem!reader SYNOPSIS: Branded a curse since the day you were born, you lose your parents, endure a loveless marriage, and are widowed by war before you even turn eighteen. Cast aside by your only remaining family, you cling to survival as a palace maid, until the ruthless King Kim Taehyung sets his eyes on you. Obsessed with finding his fated soulmate, he becomes convinced you are his and in a world where he destroys anyone who dares to love what he claims, your life is no longer your own. GENRE: yandere king au | supernatural | romance | suspense | W.C: 2k
Find me here
Masterlist
Wattpad
(Requests are open for bts yandere one-shot)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Taehyung observed your unconscious form with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. As his gaze fell on your wrist, he noticed a distinct mark that caught his attention. Recognizing the letter 'V' etched on your skin, his smirk grew wider as realization dawned upon him.
"Looks like I've finally found you, my precious soulmate," he murmured to himself.
Taehyung left your unconscious body in the bed while a sense of contentment washed over him.
He had finally discovered his long-lost soulmate, a person he had been tirelessly searching for.
But now, there was another matter that required his attention. He had a witch under his custody, a witch who he had sought out for help in finding his soulmate.
However, destiny had granted him a different path, he now had to handle the situation with the captured witch.
Taehyung approached the caged witch, his eyes fixed upon her weary frame.
"I require your cooperation," he stated firmly.
"I was informed you were responsible for helping me find my soulmate," he continued.
The witch, weakened by the torment endured, retorted angrily, "Find your soulmate?! That's never going to happen."
Taehyung sighed; irritation evident in his tone.
"You forget your own predicament. You're in my custody, a position where you should be thankful to be alive."
The witch grumbled under her breath but remained silent, aware of the power dynamic.The witch, a smirk forming on her face, inquired, "What's in it for me? What do I stand to gain if I help you?"
Taehyung responded calmly, "I'll set you free."
Taehyung instructed the witch to peer into Y/n's past, seeking to uncover her life story before their paths crossed.
The witch complied, delving into Y/n's history and recounting her experiences.
Taehyung was pleased with the information revealed, discovering that the rituals he had performed had indeed taken effect. Everyone Y/n had cared about, everyone who had loved her, had tragically perished.
At the tender age of 14, Taehyung's peers among the royals had already found their soulmates, while he remained unable to locate his own. It seemed that fate had bestowed his friends with the gift of soulmates since birth, but for some reason, Taehyung doubted whether he even possessed a destined partner.
Taehyung's father, growing ever more frustrated with his son's inability to find his soulmate, decided to seek assistance from witches to help in the quest. Taehyung, being willful and accustomed to receiving everything he desired due to being the sole heir to the throne, never took no for an answer.
As a result, his father, in an effort to aid his son, reached out to witches, hoping that they would be able to solve the mystery of Taehyung's elusive soulmate.
Upon hearing that his soulmate still hadn't been born, Taehyung's anger boiled over. The fact that he had to wait for his soulmate to be born infuriated him. He was possessive and territorial, unwilling to accept the idea of anyone else potentially capturing her heart.
Fueled by his possessive nature, he requested that the witch perform rituals on his behalf.
Taehyung's frustration turned into outright anger towards his father when he realized that the favors the witches demanded were beyond their means.
In his rage, Taehyung found his father utterly useless, leading him to commit the extreme act of killing his own father to ascend the throne and reign over the kingdom.
----
As you regain consciousness, you become aware of a gentle touch on your head. Opening your eyes, you look up to find Taehyung sitting beside you, his hands tenderly caressing your head.
"Why are you here?" you ask, your voice still groggy from sleep. You attempted to sit up in bed as you met his staring gaze.
Taehyung smiled at you, a sense of sweetness in his tone as he replied, "Don't you think it's perfectly normal for me to be in my own room, love?"
Despite his sweet demeanor, you couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something strange about his behavior.
Taehyung seemed strangely concerned for your well-being as he inquired, "Are you alright? Do you need anything to eat?"
You were bewildered by his friendly demeanor, knowing the rumors about his behavior towards women. The gossip surrounding him stated that he was a notorious womanizer, and no woman who spent the night with him ever returned. These rumors made you wary of his intentions towards you.
You mustered the courage to speak, your voice trembling slightly, "I... I want to go home."
Taehyung responded casually, a hint of possessiveness in his tone, "This is your room, darling."His possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine, his use of the pet's name making you uneasy.
You plead Taehyung through tears, tears, plead him to release you, you say, "Please, I'm just a slave who cooks here. Please, let me go."
Taehyung's plans had been thwarted. He had envisioned his soul mate to come from a respectable or wealthy background, perhaps a princess, but you were far from his expectations. You were from a lowly family, serving as a slave in his castle.
Taehyung's smile widens as he leans closer, intending to kiss your lips, but you swiftly turn your head aside, causing him to end up kissing your cheek instead.
"How can I let you go, my sweet?" he murmurs, a hint of playful frustration in his voice. "You are my soulmate; you cannot escape me."
He reaches out and gently grabs your chin, turning your face towards him, as he gazes intensely into your eyes. "You belong to me, darling. There is no escape from our bond."
Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your mind racing as you realize the significance of his words.
Taehyung's expression softens slightly as he says, "Don't worry, I won't force you. We can take our time to build our relationship."
Confusion washes over you as he mentions working on your relationship, especially considering his age and your lack of consent.
Tears stream down your face as you adamantly reply, "No, I don't want to be with you."
Taehyung's eyebrows furrow slightly as he hears your refusal, but he remains composed.He gently reaches out and wipes the tears from your face, his fingers gently caressing your cheeks.
"Sweetheart," he says in a soothing tone, "I understand that this is a lot to process, but you have to understand that you are mine. Whether you want it or not, your soul belongs to me."
----
You reluctantly accepted your new reality, deciding to live with Taehyung. He provided you with luxurious food, clothes, jewelry, and anything you desired. Despite your minimal interactions and resistance, he still treated you with kindness, satisfied with merely having you by his side.
Taehyung seemed content with your presence, even though you didn't fully reciprocate his affections.
Life took an unexpected turn when you found yourself married to Taehyung. You felt trapped, unable to escape the situation as saying no seemed pointless. Your hopes of being treated well by your family and husband were dashed, leaving you feeling disillusioned.
But now, an unfamiliar person declaring himself as your soulmate and professing love left you utterly shocked.
Taehyung's voice was gentle as he inquired, "Are you alright, love?"
It was your wedding night, but the events of the day had taken their toll on you. The crowd, the guests, and the grandeur of the occasion had left you exhausted and weary, especially in your heavy wedding dress and painful high heels.
He noticed the pain written on your face and added, "You look tired. Those heels must be causing quite a bit of discomfort." Taehyung gently took one of your feet in his hand and examined the bruises on your legs.
"I'm fine" you say in a low tone.
Taehyung frowns slightly at your dismissive response.
"You're not fine," he says, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I can see the bruises on your legs. Those heels have been tormenting you all evening."
He carefully places your foot back on the floor and looks at you intently, his irritation evident.
Taehyung gently caresses your cheek as he speaks "It's our wedding night, love."
His words send a shiver down your spine. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and the thought makes your heart race.
He was undeniably attractive, with a physique reminiscent of a Greek god and a face that any girl would swoon over. Yet, you couldn't help but wonder how you, of all people, managed to be his soulmate.
Taehyung's gaze lingered on your face, studying your reactions intently. He seemed to relish in the moment, savoring your unease.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave, "You look nervous, love. Are you nervous about being alone with me?"
He had a predatory gleam in his eyes as he slowly reached out and traced his fingers along your exposed collarbone.
Taehyung spoke softly, his eyes filled with tenderness and affection as he confessed, "Ever since we met, everything seems to have turned to gold, as if you were made just for me. You are a true gift from the gods."
His words touched a deep chord within you, as years of feeling like a disgrace suddenly seemed distant. A single tear escaped your eye as you absorbed the impact of his heartfelt declaration.
You hugged him tightly, a sense of gratitude and affection welling up within you.
"I'm lucky to have you," you murmured into his chest, feeling incredibly fortunate to be in his arms.
Taehyung wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, enveloping you in a warm embrace. He had a protective demeanor, treating you like a delicate flower, showering you with tenderness and care.
----
You woke up, your legs feeling numb and slightly sore from the previous night's activities. The night had been magical, filled with gentle intimacy and care. Despite the age difference, Taehyung had made you feel special and pampered.
He asked, his honey skin glowing, "How are you feeling?"
You couldn't help but blush as you took in his naked body, your gaze lingering on his figure, and the memories of the night before came flooding back.
"I'm feeling alright," you replied, a tinge of blush still visible on your cheeks. "Just a bit sore."
Taehyung chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he observed your blushing face. "I didn't hear any complaints last night," he teased.
You felt your cheeks heat up even more at his words, and you averted your gaze, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact with him. You knew he was referring to the passions of the night before.
Taehyung noticed your shy demeanor and smiled, amused by your reaction. He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, making you look up at him.
Taehyung spoke with a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness in his voice, his gaze fixed on you.
"You have no idea the lengths I went to have you here in my arms," he whispered, his hand tracing a gentle pattern on your bare skin.
He tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer to him.
"Every single thing I did to have you here was worth it," he continued, his eyes searching yours intently. "I would do it all again and more if it meant I could have you like this."
Taehyung leaned in and kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering for a moment before he spoke again.
"I'm not letting you go, ever," he murmured, his voice firm and determined. "You're mine now, and I won't let anyone, or anything take you away from me."
You found yourself feeling both trapped and cherished. Despite his cruelty towards others, he had always been an angel to you, loving and protecting you wholeheartedly.
When the rest of the world turned away and showed you a cold shoulder, he was the only one who welcomed you with open arms.
In that moment, you didn't care about the world outside. All you wanted was to be selfish, to be with him forever, and hold onto the love and security he provided.
END
As Thunder Rolls
[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.
[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU
[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters
[Word Count]: 8,296
[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)
People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.
You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.
Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.
“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.
Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.
“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.
“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.
“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.
There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.
But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.
“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.
Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.
He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.
You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.
“Down there,” you corrected him.
“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.
“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”
You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.
Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.
“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.
The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.
Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.
“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.
His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.
“Thank you,” he softly said.
At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.
You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.
Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.
But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.
He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.
His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.
What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.
You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.
You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.
“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.
“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.
“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.
You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.
In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.
“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.
“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.
“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.
“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.
“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.
“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.
“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”
He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.
“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.
You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.
“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”
“Your siblings?” he asks.
“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”
He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.
“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.
“No,” you laugh.
Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.
“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”
“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”
You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.
“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”
“For?” you peck his lips again.
“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”
You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.
“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”
“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.
___
Law school used to be interesting.
Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.
Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.
These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.
Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.
You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.
A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.
“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.
“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.
“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.
With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.
“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.
You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.
“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.
“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”
“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”
Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.
“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.
“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”
“It worked,” you kiss him again.
“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”
“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”
“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.
You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.
“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.
“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”
You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.
“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”
“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.
You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.
“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.
“What?” all four of you say at once.
“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”
“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.
“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.
“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.
“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”
Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.
“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”
—
You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.
Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.
He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.
“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.
He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?
“Baby, talk to m—”
“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.
“What?”
“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”
You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.
“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.
“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”
“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.
“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.
“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.
His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.
“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.
___
Dinner is awkward. So awkward.
It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.
Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.
Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.
You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.
Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.
It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.
“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”
Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.
“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.
“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”
“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”
Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.
“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.
You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.
“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”
The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.
After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.
“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.
“Father,” you try to stop him.
“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”
Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.
“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”
You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.
“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”
“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.
“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”
“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.
He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.
“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”
“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.
Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.
He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.
“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.
“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.
There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.
“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"
“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”
“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.
Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.
You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.
“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.
“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.
“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”
“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”
“It’s not enough,” he whispers.
“N-No,” you shake your head.
But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.
“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.
“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.
Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.
“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”
He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.
“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.
“Marry me,” you say it again.
He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.
“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”
“You can,” he denies.
“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”
His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.
“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.
“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”
“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”
“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”
He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.
“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.
“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”
A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.
“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”
“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”
He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.
He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.
“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.
He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.
“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.
“Where?” you follow him.
“My place,” he looks back at you.
You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.
You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.
His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.
The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.
“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.
You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.
Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.
“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.
“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.
The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.
You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.
You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.
With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.
You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.
He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.
“Please, Tae,” you allow him.
He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.
You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.
But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.
It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.
“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”
Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.
He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.
“Tae?” you cup his cheek.
He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.
You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.
With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.
You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.
Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.
“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.
Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.
It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.
Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.
“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.
Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.
“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.
“Yes,” you nod.
You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.
“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.
“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.
“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.
“A little,” you admit with a small smile.
“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.
“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.
“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.
He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.
“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”
His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.
“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.
“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.
He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.
“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”
“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.
“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.
“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”
You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.
“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.
“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.
His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.
He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.
“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.
He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.
“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”
He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.
“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.
“So?” he raises his own.
“Will you?”
“Will I…?”
“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.
“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”
“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.
“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”
You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.
“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.
“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”
“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.
___
[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]
Day 25 pt. 1🐶✨✨
hey tannie, you're dearly missed
lots of love <3