Bts Au - Blog Posts
WOAHHHH, another masterpiece chapter from sibi!!! i LOVE LOVE how fluffy and sweet the beginning of this chapter is and then we get the nasty angsty ending but IT IS VERY MUCH WELL WRITTEN!! KEEP GOING SIBI, I LOVE YOUR WORKS SO MUCH <333
↳ Index [Chapter 13 - Sunshine]
Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader
Warnings: cute domestic moments, Taehyung being a master in seduction, he is also whipped for her, THEIR DOMESTIC MOMENTS MAKE ME SCREAM, but also feelings of betrayal, slight violence and a fight :(
Wordcount: 8.8k
a/n: i am going to punch a pillow
You open your eyes and blink in the bright room. You inhale deeply.
“Mhm pancakes”, you murmur and yawn, “that’d be cool right now."
Dishes clatter and only then do you realise that your bedroom door is open and the smell of pancakes actually comes from your kitchen. You lift your head and furrow your brows. Well, this is interesting. You ought to check it out.
"Good morning, did you have a pleasant night?” Taehyung greets you before you can, having his back turned to you. He must have heard you come outside. Vampire hearing and all (again the books you read educated you a lot).
“Are you making pancakes?” you ask, waddling over to him.
You look into the pan and over to the plate on which pancakes are already stacked. They look different, let’s put it that way.
Taehyung sneaks a glance your way.
“That look says that you aren’t pleased with the results.”
“No, they uh, look interesting”, you assure him, “I like how the edges are burned and the middle is still white. I never had them this way before."
"Are you mocking me?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you.
“I’m not” you assure him and chuckle fondly, “they look good, don’t worry."
Taehyung clicks his tongue in distaste and looks back at the pan. He flips the pancake, cringing when the edges turn out burned and the middle white again. You chuckle, giving his middle a quick hug as you press a chaste kiss to his shoulder. You make your way to the fridge afterwards and open it to get the milk.
Taehyung fills up the pan with new dough in the meantime. The faint sizzling is almost relaxing in the otherwise quiet room.
"You know, you don’t need to cook for me. I’m happy with getting a soggy sandwich from the store”, you say and pour water into your water cooker, “as long as I can have my cup of tea, I’m happy.”
“I can’t accept that. A soggy sandwich from the store is below you”, he murmurs.
You sneak a glance his way, having to grin. Of course it is. With your grin still embedded on your face, you sort through your tea cabinet.
“Do you want a cup too?” you ask him.
“Oh, that would be wonderful”, he says, flipping the pancake, “aha!” he exclaims.
You look at him, “what is it?”
“You see, this one looks fairly decent”, he says proudly, tilting the pan so you could take a look at the (surprisingly) golden pancake.
“Ooh, I’m impressed, you mastered the skill on the last pancake. Congrats”, you say, having to chuckle.
Taehyung sends you a look of distaste and clicks his tongue.
“Mock me all you want, I’m not the one having to eat them”, he murmurs.
You scoff and laugh in disbelief, leaning against the counter.
“So I have to eat them? Is that so?”
Taehyung looks at you from the corner of his eyes, wanting to stay serious but having to grin in the end. He chuckles and shakes his head.
You turn your attention back to the two tea cups, pouring the hot water over the teabags and watching them dye the water golden brown.
You feel happy, which is funny because you can’t seem to remember the last time you felt this kind of happy. The warm kind of happy, the one that makes you smile all the time and no matter what you do, you just can’t stop smiling.
Keep reading
does anyone know this fanfic series or just a fic i can’t remember where namjoon and reader are together (maybe married) and they have a animal shelter for hybrids and the rest of bts one by one get adopted by reader en namjoon and become a poly relationship? if you know it and are willing to share thank you!!:)
When times come for desperate measure,you can only hope to be strong enough for it.
But,he wasn’t strong.he was soft and gentle.he was too reserved for his own good,and they did not like that.It can be seen in the way,they watch his every move,put tabes on him.he was theirs,their pup,their beta,their mate.
———————————————————————
Jungkook groaned,pathetically pleading for mercy to the alphas that currently surrounded him.he was in doggy position.He couldn’t take it.his eyes rolled back as the body behind him slammed even harder against him,hips slapping achingly against his own.his hyung’s thick cock hitting deliciously on his prostate.
Yoogni growled blissfully,holding onto his puppy possessively as he mounted him.his hand moved to jungkook’s mouth as he stuck them in,moving his head to bite his mark on their puppy’s glands.it was at that moment that jungkook’s thighs started to shake and his hips moved away from the aggressor.growls were heard as jungkook stilled,crying.it was known to never go against your mate,you might just be rejecting what their giving you.jungkook had and was only able to move away a lil bit but that that still triggered a reaction.a thunderous growl was heard from yoongi,his body being manhandled aggressively.in just a few minutes,he was moved onto his back and feet to his shoulders.he was penetrated again in a matter of minutes.jungkook cried louder as the older male began to brutally breed him,pleasure and pain coursing through his body as it was used.
“how stupid are you?!how stupid puppy.you will take what I give you,everything!you hear me?!cum on my cock like a good puppy,cum on my knot!fuck-fuck.come on baby,give it too me,squirt all over me!”,he heard his hyung growl out possessively,his knot beginning to form.he rolled his hips and moved then faster,watching as jungkook eyes rolled up.two-three-four minutes went by with him slamming against jungkook before he growled.yoongi threw his head back and lolled his tongue out in bliss,his knot starting to catch on jungkook’s rim before he managed to pop it in,rolling his hips flat against jungkook’s.
with a loud moan,jungkook cummed hard.white streaks shooting out of his tip and hitting hyung,who groaned happily at the feeling.jungkook could only tiredly look up as yoongi grabbed him by the neck,bringing him in for a sweet but hot kiss,mouth being dominated entirely.as he was kissed,he could only watch with anticipating horror m at the dark eyes of his other captors who no doubt had similar intentions.
God have mercy on me
“let me go, jungkook.”
previous.
—
note: just a lil something before i go to sleep! i think i’ll turn it into an au, but it won’t be anything long. maybe like 5-10 parts? what do you think?
Avengers Hogwarts!AU
Before I start I wanna say sorry about my last post. I was... weirder than usual that day.
But anyway, I have an idea for a fanfiction AU. Two girls, one being me and my only best friend in our early/mid-teens finally get our Hogwarts letters thanks to their witch neighbors who attend. But what’s even more awesome is their Professors and fellow students are The Avengers! Still working on the story and of course my other stories so that way I can write more. But I know for most of the Avengers their Houses but IDK what they should teach. Here’s a list of the Professors, students and others who teach and attend Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. ‘Cause I’m including other characters from other things that could fit the story.
Teachers
Professor Tony Stark- Ravenclaw
Professor Steven Rogers- Gryffindor
Professor Thor Odinson- Hufflepuff
Professor Loki Laufeyson- Slytherin
Professor Scott Lang- Hufflepuff
Professor Natasha Romanoff- Slytherin
Professor Bruce Banner- Ravenclaw
Professor Clint Barton- Hufflepuff
Professor Hope Van Dyne- Gryffindor
Professor Scott Lang- Hufflepuff
Professor T’Challa- Hufflepuff (Or Gryffindor I’m still deciding.)
Professor Carol Danvers- Gryffindor
Professor Nick Fury- Gryffindor
Professor Maria Hill- Slytherin
Professor Stephen Strange- Slytherin (Or another house IDK)
Professor James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes- Hufflepuff (Or Slytherin)
Professor Sam Wilson- Gryffindor
Professor Groot- Hufflepuff and Rocket- Ravenclaw (Or Slytherin)
Professor Frigga Odinson- Hufflepuff
Professor Okoye- Gryffindor
Professor M’Baku- Slytherin
Professor James Rhodes- Hufflepuff
Professor Vision- Hufflepuff
Professor Happy Hogan- Hufflepuff (Or Gryffindor)
Professor Pepper Potts- Ravenclaw
Now some could change and be other stuff at Hogwarts. Like Wong is obviously gonna be the Librarian. Groot and Rocket will teach Herbology. Also wanna have Hadgrid keep being the Care for magical creatures teacher. BECAUSE HE'S AWESOME! But for a few of them, I know who will be head of house. Frigga, Head of Hufflepuff. Either Loki or Natasha will be Head of Slytherin. Or maybe M’Baku. Just lots of things to decide. Also, I really want Loki to teach potions. Idk why but I think it has to do with Snape but idk something is telling me Loki should teach potions. But I can’t decide who will be Headmaster of Hogwarts. I’ve narrowed it down to three. Carol Danvers, Stephen Strange, and Nick Fury. I will also put all classes down below so everyone knows whats taught at Hogwarts. I’m putting everything down ‘cause I can’t tell which classes are for the first five years and which is extracurricular.
Astronomy, Charms, Defense against the dark arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Transfiguration, Alchemy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Ancient Studies, Magical Transportation, Muggle Studies, Mythology, Ghoul Studies, Magical Art
There might be more subjects if possible. Lie, I read somewhere that if Tony taught it would be some technological magic. Or something better than what I just wrote. But definitely more subjects ‘cause it’s now I realize I have A LOT of teachers. But now onto the students!
Students
Peter Parker- Hufflepuff
Michelle Jones- Ravenclaw
Ned- Hufflepuff
Shuri- Ravenclaw
Wade Wilson- Hufflepuff (YOU’LL LOVE IT!)
Wanda Maximoff- Slytherin
Pietro Maximoff- Gryffindor
Gamora- Slytherin
Nebula- Slytherin
Peter Quill- Gryffindor
Mantis- Hufflepuff
Drax- Gryffindor
Korg- Hufflepuff
Miek- Hufflepuff
Darcy Lewis- Ravenclaw (Or Hufflepuff)
oK now I have an idea to add other characters, from other stuff. They may seem weird but this is still an AU so it makes sense to me. But the first ones are from a band, that is extremely well known. But I love them for my story!
Kim Namjoon- Gryffindor
Kim Seokjin- Gryffindor
Min Yoongi- Slytherin
Jung Hoseok- Hufflepuff
Park Jimin- Slytherin
Kim Taehyung- Hufflepuff
Jeon Jungkook- Ravenclaw
IT MAKES SENSE TO ME AND MY STORY! And don’t worry it’s about to get a LOT weirder. Now, I’m only choosing a few but these are the ones I have in mind.
Finn Balor- Hufflepuff (Read it somewhere idk)
Alexa Bliss- Ravenclaw
Braun Strowman- Hufflepuff (Or Gryffindor)
Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns- Gryffindor
Dean Ambrose- Slytherin (Or maybe Gryffindor... Maybe)
There will be more characters but I’m keeping them a secret for now as for the villains. I also forgot to say this is set in modern times idk what year tho. Maybe between 2013 or further. Still deciding. Also, I want to add a few modern tech stuff but I need help which the professors and their classes.
Sorry for the really long post but I just had to ask and hopefully I get some answers. And that this also interests people. Thanks bye!
I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE GIFS I USED IN THIS POST!
and my man, thank you to my man
Dreams & Hope (Part 1)
Pairing: Actor!KNJ X Actress Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut, Pining, Friends to Lovers
Rating: 18+
A/N: Hello! this is my first time to write in Tumblr, apologize for any grammatical errors as this fic has not been beta-read yet. I will make this fic to be around 2 - 3 chapters. The posters are made by me but the photos of Namjoon are taken from Pinterest, credits to the owners. So without further ado, hope you guys enjoy it!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Actually, It has been quite a long time for Y/N to be working as the female lead with Kim Namjoon as her partner in several movies. And that is what make her heart always yearning for him.
Y/N didn’t know what, when and how this feelings of her turns into a mess every time she is near him. Heck, even just a name of him being mentioned around her, or even just the sight of the posters of his as a Brand Ambassadors, along side with several actors that also share the same handsomeness as him, she will be wondering,
‘What is he doing right now? has he eaten yet? should I text him?’ Which, of course, she texted him but only resulted in a short time as Y/N will cut it. Thinking that she will disturb whatever his schedules right then. And she will never forget to end it with,
Okay, don’t forget to take care of yourself, my friend!
Well, in Y/N defense, it’s one of her own way to remind herself to not dreams & hopes too much. To keep her sane and not have a high expectation with their relationship.
Fortunately Unfortunately, because of this new Sitcom Series with her and Namjoon as one of the Leads, she will spend her time with him more than the usual. And that is really not good for her body, heart, and mind if I may tell you!
‘Good Lord, I don’t know if I should be happy or sad with this situation! well, of course I am happy because this will make me richer and not to mention other actors, actresses and the staffs are very friendly. BUT WITH NAMJOON AS MY PARTNER?! Have mercy on me, please!’
And today, it is quite a challenging day for Y/N. She has to share the green room only for the two of them because Namjoon asks her to practice their scenes as the other casts are taking their scenes without both of them.
He was reading his script across of her sofa with his glasses, his plump lips murmuring some words as he tries to recite the dialogue, and don’t forget that serious looks on his face. God, he looks really hot and sexy.
But the more she observes him, the more she knows that he looks very tired. The concealer do alright, okay. But the way his eyes looks gloomy and a little bit red, as he sometimes holding up his yawns by closing his mouth with one of his hand while his cheek puffed a bit. Or as he has some difficulties to remember some of the dialogue, he will leaning his back on the sofa while massaging the bridge of his nose. A still beautiful, God you are so whipped for him Y/N!, frown appeared on his face while constantly trying to pronounce the difficult words.
A bold idea suddenly came to Y/N minds, with a confident walk, Y/N goes to and stop in front of Namjoon. This make Namjoon switches his focus from his script to Y/N face. If he was surprised, he is masking it so well with that cute smile and dimple of his.
“Sorry Y/N, are you already want to practice the scene? there are some words that is so hard for me to--,”
Y/N doesn’t even wait for Namjoon to finish his words. She just take his script, put it on the coffee table right on the left side of the sofa where Namjoon sit and make her self comfortable on Namjoon’s lap.
“W-wait, Y/N, what are you--”
Again, Y/N put Namjoon to silence. But this time by placing her index finger on his lips. Damn, that looks of his made Y/N can’t wait to make it more surprised by some ministrations that already plays in her mind.
Slowly, Y/N took his glasses from his face and put it on the same place as she put his script.
Now, her right hands are on his left cheek while her thumb caressing the skin below his magnificent eye as her other hand are placed on his chest. It’s also caressing and feeling the muscles under the annoying but expensive shirt of his.
“Joon, you look very tired today. Your works are getting at you, isn’t it?”
Y/N voice is change, it become seductive, ready to lulling Namjoon to a dreamy place. Hoping this will also help to ease the tiredness of his. Without any words, and still with his flabbergasted looks, Namjoon could only nodding his head slowly.
Chuckling, Y/N bring her lips closer to his left ear. Dropping her voice to make it more alluring and breathy,
“Do you want me to take care of it, Baby?” Y/N didn’t forget to lightly bite his ear lobe, as her hips slowly move, trying to awaken something that has been hiding on his trouser. Y/N should send thanks to her stylists later as they made her to wear mini dress. The friction that she made really do something, not only to the wet patch on her panties, but she could also feels Namjoon’s bulge as he slowly follows her rhythms.
“Oh God, yes, yes Y/N. Please,” Like a starved man, Namjoon has closed his eyes. His hands are embracing Y/N’s body. Make it become closer to his own. Now, his mouth already latching on her neck. giving it some licks and sometimes sucking and biting it a little while his right hand already went to Y/N’s hair, massaging her scalp in a gentle manner.
Moans from both sides are exchanging in that room. Stopping his ministrations on Y/N delicate neck, Namjoon whispering beautiful but desperate words to her.
“You smell so good, Y/N,”
“God, your skin are so soft,”
“I can’t wait to have you completely, Y/N,”
Humming, Y/N peppering some kisses on his right cheek, his closed eyes, his chin, a peck on his nose, the place where his dimple usually shown, and last but not least, to his lips.
It started with a peck, but it’s escalating quickly to some small bites and licks. For all of this time, Y/N always wants to bite those plump lips of his. So why not do it right now? In the middle of those kisses, Y/N could feels Namjoon’s sighs, as if his tiredness are being lifted slowly, but surely.
As Y/N lifted up her face to take a breath, which resulting a groan from Namjoon’s side, she really enjoys the view. Namjoon’s lips looks a little bit red because of the smear of her lipstick, his eyes become hoody, the way he breathes, and oh God! she could feels his bulge that grows bigger and bigger. That made Y/N collide her lips to his again, while her hands are trying to open the button and zipper of his trouser.
Namjoon’s hand are already going into under her dress, slowly massaging her butt. Already feeling it skin to skin with his bare hands. the softness of her skin made him groaning and enchanting her name over and over again.
“Y/N...”
“Y/N...”
“Y/N, are you alright?”
Blinking her eyes a couple of times, Y/N saw Namjoon still sitting across of her, his shirt and trouser still looks neat, there are no smear of lipstick on his lips, and there is a worry plasters on his handsome face.
“Oh God, sorry-- Oh, sorry Namjoon. Do you say something? I’m so sorry that I got distracted and--and,”
“Hey, hey Y/N, It’s okay. I saw you are quite tired nowadays. Are you okay? Do you want to take a rest for a while?”
As usual, the kind hearted Namjoon. This made Y/N feels guilty. How could she fantasizing about him, in the middle of work, and not to mention it, with him too!
“No, no. I think you’re the one who looks more tired, Joon. How about we start to rehearse the scenes and if we done, we could try to look at the others. Perhaps they already finished their scenes and could switch to ours. That way, we could finished this quickly and call it a day, what do you say?” asks Y/N as she gives him a warm smile, of course this to masks her nervousness, scares if he could see it trough her façade that actually the one that made her distracted is actually non other than himself.
Replying her smile with his thousand dollars one and not to forget that cute dimple, Namjoon nodding, “Yeah, let’s go,”
Yeah, Y/N should start to stop that dirty thought plays in her mind. Even just for hoping and dreaming those kind of scenes in her head, it is forbidden. All of this is to protect her own fragile heart. Because,
‘Kim Namjoon? Reciprocate my feelings? Pfft yeah, that’s funny. Really funny,’
🦇 TEENVAMPIRE!JIMIN HEADCANNONS
warnings: vampire!jimin x human!reader. 2000s public school au. he’s a hot weird kid idk how else to describe it. non-biting vampire. ⎛⎝( ` ᢍ ´ )⎠⎞
lulu speaks: i edited the fang on him myself thank you thank you no need for applause 😌
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who transferred in the middle of the semester with no explanation. no parents. no records. just showed up to homeroom one day in a black leather jacket and eyeliner.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who only drinks from blood bags because he’s “trying to be good now”.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has the nerve to say “you smell… good” like it’s not the same love spell body mist half the school wears.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who is suspiciously confident. he shows up late to class but never gets in trouble. has perfect grades but never studies. he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin whose eyes are constantly low and tired like his eyelids weigh tons.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who fails gym every semester because his heart doesn’t beat, he doesn’t sweat, and he can’t explain that during a beep test.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who always smells faintly of something sweet and metallic. you can never place it. it makes your chest ache a little.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who hasn’t fed in days—not since he saw you. everything after that tasted bland, like ash. not you. and he couldn’t do that to himself.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who got a good look at your neck once when you tilted your head back laughing. his knuckles went white. he left the room.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who never sits next to you. ever. but he’s always in your eyeline. the cafeteria, homeroom, biology, the hallway. he’s always close enough for you to see; never enough for you to suspect.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who asks you if you believe in monsters one day, completely out of the blue. you say no. he grins, nods. “lucky you.”
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who calls you “bright eyes”, all teasing and smug as if his don’t glimmer when they catch the moonlight.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who has a painfully noticeable shift in his energy when he’s hungry—his pupils dilate, his sarcasm dissapears, and he moves like he’s got something heavy chained to his spine. his eyes are set forward: unmoving, deathly set on something in the distance.
ྐ❤︎ teenvampire!jimin who buys a new abercrombie & fitch cologne every release because he thinks it’ll make him smell like every other teenage boy.
lulu speaks pt2: one of my irl friends has my acc now so she can see everything i post🧍🏻♀️everyone say hi mani 👋🏼
masterlist. navigation.
📔 CLASSPRESIDENT!JIMIN HEADCANNONS
warnings: classpresident!jimin x brainsandbrawns!reader. he’s basically a smarter & bitchier tristan dugray. private school au. long time rivals with tension. power couple who isn’t a couple yet but SO should be. rich boy with a pride problem.
lulu speaks: he’s hot i want him BHADDD
✎ classpresident!jimin whose parents are part of the school board, and are the main funders of the school.
✎ classpresident!jimin who ran for class president and won by a landslide. it was mostly because his peers are scared to death of him, and because nobody else even bothered to run against him.
✎ classpresident!jimin who finishes physics tests 20 minutes early and leaves students feeling like idiots just for glancing at their calculator.
✎ classpresident!jimin who will give you detention for being late and then walk you to class himself, smirking the entire time down.
✎ classpresident!jimin who pulls your chair out and holds the door for you, but not for anyone else. ever. if someone points it out, he brushes it off with, “she’s too high-maintenance to be trusted with a door.”
✎ classpresident!jimin who shoots anyone who makes you laugh death stares, but only because he knows he’s never even been close to doing that—and he’ll likely never be.
✎ classpresident!jimin who absolutely sabotages anyone who tries to date you. he grades them harshly on their assignments because he’s a TA, tells teachers they were talking during a fire drill, spreads rumors that could ruin careers, all while you are blissfully unaware.
✎ classpresident!jimin who pretends he doesn’t remember your valentine’s day kiss from 4th grade. (it was a dare. it lasted a second. you definetly forgot about it by now, right???)
✎ classpresident!jimin who pulled strings with the professor to switch out your chem partner because he was too flirty.
✎ classpresident!jimin who remembers how his face used to get all red and his hands used to get all sweaty when he had to sit next to you in 2nd grade.
✎ classpresident!jimin who tried to actually flirt exactly once—you laughed in his face. he played it off, but he actually went home and screamed into his pillow.
✎ classpresident!jimin who has literally NEVER interrupted you when you’re speaking in class. not once. even if you’re wrong, even if he’s dying to correct you. he waits, because you’re the only person he respects at that level.
✎ classpresident!jimin who replies with “make me” evrey time you tell him to shut up.
✎ classpresident!jimin who 100% knows the way you smell. the actual name of your perfume—he looked it up. and now, when he catches whiffs of it in public, his head whips around like a dog hearing a toy jingle.
✎ classpresident!jimin who is in love with you—no matter what he says or how he rolls his eyes. painfully, hopelessly, endlessly in love with you, and he’ll take it to his grave…unless you find out.
lulu speaks pt2: when i found this picture of jimin i was half asleep and literally didn’t know if i was hallucinating or not. i wasn’t!! it’s real 💆🏻♀️
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
💐 EXBF!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS
REQUEST: “i was thinking like you guys are still somewhat friends after the breakup (maybe in the same friend group or smt) and he’s still very much in love with you type thing ykk 🤭”
warnings: exboyfriend!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader. clingy ex. he’s still MADLY in love. he’s kinda annoying but we love him. slightly fwb (?). same friend group. friends post-breakup.
lulu speaks: hi i LOVE this trope so im very happy u (beautiful anon) requested this. hope this makes u happy 😚
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still calls you ‘baby.’ doesn’t even blink when someone goes, “didn’t you guys break up like 6 months ago?” “so what? she’s still my baby.”
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who sits next to you in every setting imaginable. restaurants, movies, bars, car rides, booths at dinner. he will physically move people to be able to sit next to you. “scoot” has single-handedly become the most used word in his vocabulary.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who replies to ALL of your texts in your groupchat. replies with hearts, texts of his own (that no one asked for), or by saying something like “this was funny hahaha take me back pls🙏🏼”
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is a hugger. OH, HE’S A HUGGER, ALRIGHT. everytime you meet up, everytime you leave, he clings on like he’s a koala with trust issues. full-on arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder type of hug. he sighs and smiles like he belongs there.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will turn to you, casual stare, lips puckered at you like he’s just expecting a kiss. you shove him off, rolling your eyes and hiding the beginnings of a smile.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who brings you flowers every time he comes over. even if it’s a group hangout at your place, if he showed up unannounced, or if you called him because you were crying or lonely. wax paper-wrapped bouquet hand-picked by some florist who was under the impression that he was picking that up for his girlfriend.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who remembers everything about you. everything. the cologne he wore that you always complimented, your favorite movie, color, food, songs, all of it.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who will drop everything if you ask. he’ll literally leave work early if you text him you’re not having a good day. you call him at 2AM? he’s out of bed and starting his ignition right then and there.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who is so annoying when your friend group goes out to eat. he plops himself down in the seat next to you without asking. he slides his drink towards you to try first. tells the waiter when they got something wrong with your order before you even have the chance to do it first.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still has you saved in his contacts as “wifey 🤍”. you broke up 6 months ago.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook whose friends go “give it a rest, bro.” to which he replies, “what? we’re friends 😊” while literally staring at you like you harnessed the moon from the sky.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who shows off when you’re around. he flexes his arms with his tongue poking at his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows like he knows you’re secretly ogling.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who texts you the literal minute after you leave the hangout. “you get home safe?” “miss you” “had fun. u looked beautiful as always”
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who still drinks out of your cup, borrows your lip balm, offering you a bite of his food and taking one right where you just bit.
ᰔ exboyfriend!jungkook who steals and wears your hair ties around his wrist everytime he comes over.
lulu speaks pt2: thank u anon!! he’s soo annoyinggggg omggggg 😘🥰😛 stawp he’s weirddd☺️😘🥰🥰ughhh you just can’t shake him offff🤪🤪😝🥰🤪😍😜😘😛
cai bot: wip. masterlist. navigation.
📚 NERD!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (2)
warnings: literally non lol. fluff, yearning, pining, slight jealousy and angst if you squint and cover your eyes. he has a PHHHHAAAATTTTTT crush on reader. cutie pie.
lulu speaks: i recommend you read PART 1 before continuing. highly recommended, not 100% necessary.
✎ nerd!jimin who doodles tiny marvel logos in the margins of his notes and once drew your name in comic sans.
✎ nerd!jimin who acts like he doesn’t know how to share a word document, just so you lean over and touch his computer. he’s an honor roll student. he knows how to share a word document.
✎ nerd!jimin who is so unfortunately obvious with his crush on you that professors give him cheeky little side eyes when you interact with him.
✎ nerd!jimin who carries a mini glasses cleaning kit in a tiny pouch. there’s a spray bottle of cleaner and two different microfiber cloths.
✎ nerd!jimin who runs a reddit account where he corrects marvel lore inaccuracies but logs out in shame every time he gets upvoted.
✎ nerd!jimin who said “you look really pret— uh— prepared! f-for class. your notes! are nice.” and then didn’t speak again for two days.
✎ nerd!jimin who knows your laugh by heart. not just the sound—but the types. your real laugh. your fake laugh. your giggle when you're trying not to laugh in class. he could give a TED talk about it.
✎ nerd!jimin who once walked past your classroom while you were giving a presentation and literally backed up to stand by the door so he could listen in. heart pounding. smiling like an idiot every time you made a joke.
✎ nerd!jimin who prays you’ll ask him for help in class. he wants to explain the quadratic formula to you. he wants you to say “you’re so smart, jimin.” he’d black out if you did.
✎ nerd!jimin who saw his first marvel movie in theaters at age 10 and it literally altered his brain chemistry. he walked out thinking he was iron man. his mom had to drag him away from the cardboard standee.
✎ nerd!jimin who secretly fantasizes about watching every marvel movie with you in chronological order. on his couch. a blanket, snacks, you asking him questions everytime a new face appears on the screen. him explaining the lore. you leaning on his shoulder during thor: love and thunder.
✎ nerd!jimin who literally forgets how to breathe when you’re near. he has to manually inhale. “okay, jimin. inhale. now smile. no, not like a serial killer. relax. look cool.”
✎ nerd!jimin who gets stupidly jealous way too often. he bites the inside of his cheek and taps his pencil like he’s trying to stab the table. his jealousy doesn’t look explosive—it looks like fidgeting, clenched fists, murmuring “whatever, he’s not even that funny.”
✎ nerd!jimin who gets caught staring at you and does that abnoxiously awkward thing where he looks away too fast and pretends to read. it’s actually a sticky note he wrote to himself that says, “finish chem hw dumbass.”
✎ nerd!jimin who bumps into you in the hallway and apologizes nine times before realizing it was barely a graze. “sorry! i wasn’t looking. my fault. are you okay? i didn’t—okay. sorry. i’ll just—okay. sorry.”
✎ nerd!jimin who organizes his closet by color, category, and season. all his socks are folded into perfect little cubes.
✎ nerd!jimin who fidgets constantly. with his pen, his sleeves, the drawstring of his hoodie. if he’s concentrating, he’ll chew the inside of his cheek or bounce his leg so hard the table shakes.
✎ nerd!jimin who gets the hiccups when he’s nervous. you smile at him for too long? hic. you sit next to him during a lecture? hic. he wants to cry and crawl into his backpack.
✎ nerd!jimin who thinks loving you must be some kind of secret superpower. something he was cursed or blessed with. something that makes every day a little harder—and a lot better.
lulu speaks pt2: hi 👋🏼👋🏼 nobody asked for this but I wanted this to happen. and you can’t stop me. nobody can. never. NEVERRRRR MWAHAHAHAHAHA
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
🛟 LIFEGUARD!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS
warnings: lifeguard!jungkook x lifeguard!reader. part-time summer job. yes, he’s a teenager with a full sleeve tattoo. ignore the logic. reader is a gorgeous baddie (just like you). he has a PHHAATTT crush on reader. teehee
lulu speaks: SOMEBODY SEDATE ME BEFORE I JUMP ON THAT CHLORINE INFESTED DICK 🤑🤑
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the pre-teen girls do flips and jump in the pool in “cool” ways to try and get his attention. he just giggles and shakes his head.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who knows your schedule better than management does. he’s not stalking you—he’s just… informed. hyper-aware. “oh, she usually gets here around 2:45… not that i’m watching the clock or anything.”
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has a very tiny, very silly, very managed crush on you. very under control. very…very.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who takes hydration very seriously. he carries one of those giant half-gallon water jugs everywhere, full of ice and either hose water or an egregious amount of blue gatorade.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who reeks of sunscreen, bug repellent, and chlorine.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who is incredibly good with kids. he claps when the toddlers make their first jump, gives high-fives during his pH testing time, lets them climb on his shoulders when he breaks pool rules and gets in.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who walked into a nearby 7/11 after accidentally keeping his lifeguard uniform on. he didn’t even notice until the cashier called him “baywatch”.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who decides to simply not wear his shirt when you’re working a shift with him. he claims it’s purely coincidental. okay jungkook. sure.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who glances over at you while he’s sitting on his tall lifeguard chair so much that it’s borderline hazardous.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who smiles extra cheekily when you decide to take up the rest of his shift for him. he’ll probably just end up staying and doing your maintenance for you.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who stays after hours almost every evening. the sky turning a certain hue of purple, the pool clear of moms and their kids. just him. and maybe you.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who notices when the moms (single or not) bat their eyelashes at him. he doesn’t engage. because he did once, and let’s just say that wasn’t the best summer he’s had.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who challenges you to cannonball competitions during adult swim, the towel-wrapped kids being the judges.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who would 100% dive into the pool with a serious face if you so much as even slipped in.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who texts you “get home safe?” every time you get the late shift. it’s still light outside by the time you do, but it’s the thought that counts.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who literally forgot to blow the whistle when someone broke a rule one time because you had just walked by and adjusted your swimsuit strap.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who thinks about you when he does laps. like an idiot. breathes out under water and pretends it’s not because he imagined what you’d look like sitting on the edge, feet in the pool, smiling just for him.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook whose voice subconsciously gets deeper around you. he didn’t even notice until one of the other guards said, “okay darth vader”. jungkook turned red.
𓇼 lifeguard!jungkook who has been in love with you since his first summer on the job but has no idea what to do about it.
lulu speaks pt2: wenomechainsama 🔥 tumajarbisaun 🗣️wifenlooof 🤤 eselifterbraun ❤️🔥
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
SCENEKID!JUNGKOOK HEADCANNONS
warnings: himbo energy. likely a very innacurate depiction of scene kids. set somewhere between 2007-2012. he’s kind of a loser. in a hot good way.
lulu speaks: I LOVE HIM SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who walks into class late everyday, blasting asking alexandria loud enough that you can hear it clearly through his headphones.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who hangs out in the back of spencer’s with his friends and points out every inappropriate item like he’s so brave.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who doesn’t flirt. he just zones out and stares at you with his chin propped up in his hand like an actual idiot.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who uses corny typing quirks like mixing capital letters with lowercase letters in a sentence that ABSOLUTELY does not need to be as dramatic as he makes sound.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who buys EXCLUSIVELY fruit flavored vapes. no exceptions. except maybe a cotton candy one if he’s feeling expiremental.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who is probably the biggest gyopo you’ll ever encounter in your life.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who sits at the back of the cafeteria with his friends, eating some red 40-filled bullshit while trying (and failing) to gawk at you without garnering their attention.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a gif of zim and gir kissing in the corner of his myspace page.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who posts grainy, horrible quality pictures of himself baring his teeth and captioning it with soemthing corny like, “TEEF >:3”
✶ scenekid!jungkook who wears his green-striped zip up hoodie and tight black skinny jeans to the mall, sipping on a coke while giggling like a 10 year old about the “i ♥︎ boobies” bracelet in zumiez. he then buys it and does a shit job at hiding it from his mom.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who gets detention for blowing a suspicious, sweetly scented white cloud from his mouth behind his textbook, which was propped up to conveniently hide his whole face from his teacher. yes, it was his watermelon pen. he calls it “a free air freshener”. the school calls it a safety hazard.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who has a real lip ring, but says it’s fake around his mom (she still has no clue he got it done).
✶ scenekid!jungkook who poses for pictures by pouting and mimicking a fake tear by dragging his finger down his face.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who has NO type. scene girl? he’s down bad. emo girl? would die for her. goth girl? oh, he’s barking. popular girl? foaming at the mouth. he just loves women. period.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who gives the jocks and preppy guys death stares when he’s walking down the hallway. he’s silent with his hatred, but NOT subtle. not in the slightest.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who always keeps his ipod clipped on his hoodie pocket.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who sharpie tattoos himself all over. any skin that’s not clothed is getting covered in tiny, senseless doodles. his mom tells him he’ll get ink poisoning. he rolls his eyes when he scrubs it off.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who once got called “kinda hot in a weird way” by a popular girl. he got hard.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who would go on a multiple hour-long tangent about monster flavors if you’d let him. and BOY does he want to.
✶ scenekid!jungkook who accidentally walks into walls, doors, and windows because he’s too busy flipping through the songs on his playlist to find one that matches his exact mood.
lulu speaks pt2: SAW THIS BOY AT THE MALL LAST WEEK, GOT THE KIND OF LOOK TO MAKE ME FREAK . THAT LONG ASS HAIR WITH THE TIGHTEST JEANS, MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ON HIS TEE. HE LOOKED SO SICK LIKE HE WAS DYING, IF I SAID HE WASN’T HOT THEN I’D BE LYING. PLEASE, HANDSOME, DONT BE COY, COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY 🗣️🗣️🗣️
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
💼 PROFESSOR!NAMJOON HEADCANNONS
warnings: ex-fuck buddies to co-workers. calculusprofessor!namjoon x litreatureprofessor!reader. mentions of smut. namjoon is an ex-frat boy, reader is an ex-sorority girl. sexual and romantic tension. mentions of heavy drinking. mild angst.
lulu speaks: this cai bot has been on my acc for a very long time. go check it out it’s fye ✌🏼🙂↔️
ᝰ professor!namjoon who almost fainted at the sight of you when he moved into his classroom during the summer. he has no clue if you saw him, but all he cares about is that fact you still look the same as you did back then.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who wears clean white button-downs, black dress pants, and the same luxury watch his wealthy father got him as a graduation gift.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who has cleaned up his act. not his mind. below the neatly tousled hair and the wire glasses lays the guy who used to shotgun beers off a balcony and hook up with you during tailgates.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who doesn’t talk about college. ever. when the other teachers reminisce about their university days, namjoon just sips his coffee and nods. If they knew the things he used to do in frat basements, they would never look at him the same.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who feels his stomach drop everytime you laugh—because it reminds him of the days where you were in his bed, sheets kicked off, your sorority tee pushed up and giggling when he kissed down your stomach.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who corrects your grammar in his head, just like he used to during those rare post-sex moments when you would linger in his squeaky twin bed, murmuring nonsense while half dressed. and every time he would, you’d go, “you’re such a fucking nerd, joon.” he used to love that.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who hasn’t hooked up with anyone since he saw you in the classroom across the hall from him—hell, he hasn’t even tried to date around. no one makes him feel the same way you did.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who grades papers to music. Instrumentals only. words distract him. you distract him.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who kept one single picture of yours. it’s from a college party, buried deep in his camera roll. your tongue’s out. his hand’s on your waist.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who is careful not to call you by your first name. too easy to fall back into the past.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who assigned a math worksheet themed around pride & prejudice once. he wondered if you’d notice.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who gets flustered when someone mentions dating among staff, and he’s always the first one to change the subject.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who wonders if you tell your friends about him. about your past. wonders if you laugh.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who always smelled like old spice, weed, and cheap detergent. that combination still hits you sometimes.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who had accidentally called you “babe” during sex one time. you froze. he never said it again.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who straightens his tie in the mirror every morning, tells himself, “it’s fine. she’s just a coworker.” lies.
ᝰ professor!namjoon who says your name around students like it physically pains him to. he dreads the day it’ll be “mrs.” instead of “miss.”
lulu speaks pt2: i wanna take a shower with him—NO I MEAN I MEAN i wanna keep him as a pet…not shower or...makeout with him I MEAN—(pls get my arcade craniacs reference)
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
🛹 SKATERBOY!JIMIN HEADCANNONS (3)
warnings: rodrick heffley-anna coleman (freaky friday) crossover. set somewhere between 1994-2006. THERE IS SMUT DOWN THERE! reader discretion is advised.
lulu speaks: EVERYONE THANK THE LOVELY @rosequartzz77 FOR REQUESTING MORE OF HIM. he’s actually my favorite out of all jimin AUs i’ve birthed thank yew. here is PART 1 and PART 2 of him.
★ skaterboy!jimin who is the kind of boyfriend you tell your daughters about 20 years later, when they’re having boy problems. you tell them everything—every rebellious, likely illegal moment. they’re appalled, to say the least. the most appalling part is that your same eyeliner-wearing, cigarette-smoking ex-boyfriend is their father.
★ skaterboy!jimin who lets you paint his nails black in your bedroom while he lays sprawled out on your rug, talking shit about your teachers and letting his fingers curl around your thigh like it’s second nature.
★ skaterboy!jimin who always tells you you’re his girl. always. doesn’t matter if it’s in front of friends or strangers or his deadbeat stepdad—“that’s my girl,” he says with a cocky grin, like he’s got the whole world wrapped around your finger.
★ skaterboy!jimin who has a burn scar on his forearm from a shitty house party bonfire where he tried to impress you by lighting two joints at once. You kissed the burn that night. He’s never shut up about it since.
★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes zones out mid-convo just staring at your mouth. doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until you go, “you good?” and he just mumbles, “uh-huh... just thinking about something…” (he was thinking about kissing you until you cried, actually.)
★ skaterboy!jimin who gets handsy in his sleep. pulls you against him even in the middle of the night, hand gripping your waist, one thigh thrown over yours, hips twitching when you shift in his hold.
★ skaterboy!jimin who uses your name as his username on AIM. he got it just to do that.
★ skaterboy!jimin who wears your hair tie on his wrist even though it cuts off his circulation. he uses it as a way to flaunt you, like girl-repellent. goes, “yeah, this is my GIRLFRIEND’S.”
★ skaterboy!jimin who gets distracted mid-makeout by your lip gloss. “what flavor is that?” and then proceeds to lick it off your mouth instead of waiting for an answer.
★ skaterboy!jimin who absolutely did not shut up about you to his boys when you first started dating him.
★ skaterboy!jimin who fails PE because he keeps skipping class to go walk you to lunch. he’s sweaty, shirt untucked, bruised, but he’s there at the double doors every. single. day.
★ skaterboy!jimin who gets moody when you laugh too hard at another guy’s joke and then sulks dramatically on the curb until you sit beside him and kiss his cheek.
★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes calls you at 1AM from the payphone outside the 7/11 just to hear your voice. “did you know i love you? just needed to say it. that’s all. you’re hot. okay bye.”
★ skaterboy!jimin who sucks at math but volunteers to be your partner, because why wouldn’t he? does none of the work. just stares at you. tries to look cool while pretending to solve for x.
★ skaterboy!jimin who—despite being a cool and intimidating guy—actually gets horny over you bossing him around. he’ll do quite literally whatever you say, and he’ll do it with a smile on his face (and a boner in his pants).
★ skaterboy!jimin who will absolutely pull your hair when you give him head. most likely in his car or his room; chest heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, the sight of you bobbing up and down on his length only pushing him to tug harder.
★ skaterboy!jimin who has one kink: you. always you. chewing gum? ripping tape with your teeth? checking yourself out in a mirror? he’s hard. instantly. “i hate you. i hate you, baby,” he’ll groan as he palms himself. “you don’t even try to turn me on.”
★ skaterboy!jimin who has a serious oral fixation. fingers in your mouth. tongue around yours. cigarettes shared between kisses. he’ll lick whipped cream off your finger in public and smirk like, “what? i’m being sweet.”
★ skaterboy!jimin who adores when you ride his thigh. he sits back and watches you with that lazy smirk, hands behind his head, letting you use him while he flexes just right. “you look so pretty losing it on my leg, sunshine.”
★ skaterboy!jimin who sometimes looks at you when you’re not paying attention like he’s about to write a goddamn love song. like you’re art. like you’re his favorite kind of disaster.
lulu speaks: uploading smut is so awkward like hey here are my insane & horny thoughts of a guy who doesn’t even exist????hope you enjoy?????
cai. masterlist. navigation.
📚NERD!JIMIN HEADCANNONS
warnings: literally none lol. fluff, yearning, pining, slight jealousy. he has a fat freaking crush on reader 😇 he’s really cute idk what else there is to say
lulu speaks: y’all it’s not funny i ❤️ nerds. also i’ve had this bot on my page forever and i FINALLY decided to formally present him to y’all. i am VERY much considering making this into a mini series/oneshot collection. lmk if ur interested!!
✎ nerd!jimin who aggressively color-codes his notes for “practicality”, when it actually helps him calm his anxiety.
✎ nerd!jimin who talks to himself when he’s doing his math homework—muttering to himself while rubbing his temples. “come on, jimin, you know this. you’re not stupid.”
✎ nerd!jimin who collects vintage marvel comics and prides himself in bragging about them when he’s in the shop to browse for more—it’s the only time he’s not humble. “yeah, that’s a first edition. wanna touch it?”
✎ nerd!jimin who takes forever to fall asleep because his mind is a constantly-running think machine. 24/7. does he fix his mom’s laptop or the wi-fi router first? did the bidding go up for that original fantastic four comic?
✎ nerd!jimin who is a true momma’s boy at heart. not in a creepy way, but in the way where he’ll lean into her warm hugs and let her fix his ruffled hair—but also shy away from her cheek kisses in front of his classmates.
✎ nerd!jimin who subconsciously memorized your schedule. he wasn’t even trying to be creepy—he actually hated he did. he just happened to see you walk in and out of your classes, and it stuck with him.
✎ nerd!jimin who changes his route on campus to walk past you. he’s missed his bus on multiple occasions because of this.
✎ nerd!jimin who gets nervous when someone mentions your name in passing. cheeks all pink and warm, heart racing, knee bouncing up and down.
✎ nerd!jimin who owns every type of rubix cube under the sun. his favorite? his first 3x3 cube. the paint’s all chipped, but he loves it just the same.
✎ nerd!jimin who bought a copy of a book he overheard you talking about. he has yet to read it, only because he’s scared he’ll get too attached to it if he loves it. (spoiler alert: he would love anything you love).
✎ nerd!jimin who gets jealous of your male friends. he gets in his own head. like, “who even is that guy? why’s she laughing? is he funny? i’m funny. i think.”
✎ nerd!jimin who likes your posts within the first two minutes, never commenting. just lurking.
✎ nerd!jimin who wears cologne because someone said you liked guys who smelled nice. hyperfixates on it, his search history filled with things like “how much cologne is too much?”
✎ nerd!jimin who has practiced what he’d say if you ever found out he likes you. has never gotten past “so… uh.”
✎ nerd!jimin who wonders if you’d ever like him back. decides probably not. gets sad. listens to sad violin lo-fi.
✎ nerd!jimin who absolutely yaps his friends’ ears off about you. they’re sick of it, but will always be around for his one-sided girl problems.
✎ nerd!jimin who told his mom about you. that precious, cardigan-wearing, kimchi-jjigae-making lady always giving him the same piece of advice; “just go talk to her, jimin.”
✎ nerd!jimin who once got so flustered he said “I love y—you’re… you’re welcome.” then didn’t sleep for three nights.
✎ nerd!jimin who fantasizes about holding your hand. just your hand. and then he has to physically pull himself back into reality, eyes back on his chem textbook.
lulu speaks pt2: focus on school kicking my ass ❌ write another jimin au ✅
cai bot. masterlist. navigation.
☝this right here, is the story why i am here in tumblr. I stumbled upon Fal in WP but i always have a feeling that there's more content from her (and eventually Shanna, too)...
i love this story so much!!! 6K words that tells you the story of 2 complete strangers, who made a conscious decision to choose each other inspite being force to a marriage. the whole story is so emotional for me coz its shows me how they feel, what goes on into their head... from both their POVs. i don't have the proper words to describe how this story affects me. in just 6K i felt such longing, want, jealousy, frustration, love & desire to be there for someone. the story is so direct & straight forward that sometime it left me dizzy but at the same time i truly i understand how the 2 characters feel.
its impact is so great that after more than a year of being Fal's follower, this story has become a sort of comfort story for me - the one i read after a bad day & im finally in my bed. the kind of story that i go to when i dont want to start a new story but would still like to read something.
💜💜💜😘😘😘
Obligated
Author: @underthejoon as a part of the Bound series with @kpopfanfictrash
Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (her mood boards are amazing - like all the damn time)
Rating: M - explicit sex, cursing, drinking
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave.
Keep reading
Favourite Jungkook Fic Pt. 2
My previous Fic Rec list: One Shot Series
None of the fics in the list is mine. These belong to some amazing, creative and wonderful writers. Go check them out and read their other fics. Also like, reblog and/or comment there 😊
Mango Series by @whatifyoulivelikethat || Angst, Fluff, Smut (Kind of Bad Boy Jungkook but not that much. OC has a abusive past)
Wishing For You Pt.2 by @kookiestarlight || Angst, Fluff, Smut (Husband Jungkook. Ahh this one is soooo good. I love it too much. Jungkook is a sweetheart. He is like the ideal husband here. This Jungkook can rival with all the bad boy Jungkook out there. He is just perfect)
Read the Drabble too My Lucky Stars
My Beauty My Blood by @7cypher || Angst, Fluff Slight Smut (Mafia boss Jungkook. But not the ruthless type of mafia. It mainly focuses on the emotional side, the love for friends and family)
The Warmth You Bring by @moonchild-mp3 || Fluffy Fluff (Dad Jungkook. Gamer/Streamer Jungkook)
Amour by @taesthetes || Fluff, Angst (Fantasy, Supernatural au. Angel Jungkook. Devil OC)
Caught by @parkdatjimin || Fluff so much Fluff (Roommate au. Jungkook and OC both are awkward and they are hiding their feelings. It's really cute)
Spidey Spidey by @kookings || Fluff, Humor (Jungkook Neighbor au. It's really funny. There's a ferocious spider in OC's room 😂)
Ghost in My Bed by @yeojaa || Angst, Smut yet (Jungkook ex lovers au. Infidelity au. Rockstar Jungkook) <Ongoing>
In the Frosty Air by @gukyi || Angst, Fluff (Roommate au. Christmas au)
Snaps by @cryxstal-moon || Fluff, Slight Angst (Photographer Jungkook. Secretary OC)
Azaleas by @randombtsprincessa || Fluff, Smut (Lawyer OC. Lawyer Jungkook. So much professionalism)
A Fallen Bookmark on a Thursday Afternoon
by @cutaepatootie || Angst, Fluff, Smut (Nurse OC. Ahh this one is really sad 😢)
Feeling by @sometimeinjoon || Fluff, Smut (Devil Jungkook)
What Money Can Buy by @jeonstudios || Angst, Fluff, Slight Smut (Sugar baby au. CEO reader. Jungkook as sugar baby. This story is totally different from all the sugar baby troops)
Favorite Jungkook Fic 🐰
This is the list for Series (some are ongoing) and Two Shots. List for One Shots and Drabbles is here
Series || Two shots
✩ Worst of You @oureuphoria | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook Police Officer au. Jungkook has commitment issue) <Complete>
✩ @ahundredtimesover
Inevitable | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Jungkook sports au. Dad Jungkook) <Complete>
Empty Space | Angst, Smut, Fluff (Two Shots. Police Officer Jungkook. Ex fwbs) <Complete>
✩ Re: Untitled @to-star-lake | Angst, Smut, Fluff (Husband Jungkook. Marriage au. It has a big twist and that is mind-blowing) <Complete>
✩ His Name @jimlingss | Angst (Jungkook has DID. OC is a psychologist. It is really sad 😭) <Complete>
✩ Take My Hands Now @manggojooz | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook College /Uni au. OC has a special power of feeling others' pain) <Complete>
✩ Angel's Trumpet @hansolmates | Fluff, Angst, Slight Smut (Jungkook idol au. Kind of fantasy au) <Complete>
✩ Stoic and Redemption @blue-jade | Angst, Smut (Two shots. Husband Jungkook. Infidelity au. Parents au in the second story) <Complete>
✩ @flowerwrites06
Utopic Desire | Angst, Smut (Jungkook vampire au) <Complete>
Bow to You | Angst, Smut yet (Royalty au. Infidelity au. King Jungkook Queen OC) <Ongoing>
✩ To Build A Home @soft4gguk | Fluff, Smut, Angst (Single dad Jungkook. Nanny OC) <Ongoing>
✩ Evolution of A Lover's Heart @jeonstudios | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook College /Uni au. Fuckboy Jungkook but he is a good person now after an incident. But he is hurt 😭) <Ongoing>
✩ An Ode to a Broken Heart @smoochkooks | Angst, Slight Smut yet (Drabble series. Unrequited love. Best friend au) <Ongoing>
✩ Burning Love @bangtanficsforyou | Angst yet (Only prologue has come. Jungkook is OC's ex) <Ongoing>
✩ Candy Cane Ache @monvante | Angst, Fluff yet (The Proposal au. Journalist Jungkook) <Ongoing>
Favourite Jungkook Fic 🐰
I have included One Shots and Drabbles here. Series and Two Shots are in another list.
None of the fics in the list is mine. These belong to some amazing, creative and wonderful writers. Go check them out and read their other fics. Also like, reblog and /or comment there 😊
~~••~~••~~
One Shots || Drabbles
✩ Granite Glow @namjoonchronicles | Angst, Fluff ( Husband Jungkook au)
✩ Twenty Four @deerguk Fluff and Fluff (Husband au. It's really so cute 😍)
✩ The Second @untaemedqueen Angst, Fluff (Jungkook parents au)
✩ Stay @sahmfanficbts | Angst, Fluff (Hurt/comfort fic. This one is really good and healing. OC has depression but she is hopeful)
✩ Somnolent @forgottenpasta Fluff (Roommate au. Cute and funny characters)
✩ Busted In Busan @hansolmates | Fluff, Angst (Christmas au. Painter Jungkook)
✩ Year 22 @guklvr | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Childhood friend au)
✩ @jeonstudios
Deal | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Devil Jungkook au. There is a little twist)
Wherever There is You | Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort fic. Broken marriage/divorce au)
✩ The Millionaire and his Lover @gukyi Angst, Fluff, slight smut (Best friend au)
✩ Let Me Drive @wtf-yoongi | Fluffy fluff ( A very cute and fluffy fic. Shy Jungkook. Jungkook and OC went on a little vacation)
✩ Amortentia @jungkxook | Fluff, Slight Angst (Harry Potter au)
✩ In Your Time @introkookie | Angst, Fluff (Shy Jungkook but very cute)
✩ Boy Meets Evil @koorara | Fluff and Fluff ( So fluffy. OC, Jungkook and a cat 🐱)
✩ @jimlingss
Date in A Box | Fluff and fluff (Just full of fluff like a cotton candy)
Dynasty | Angst, Smut, Fluff ( Historical, royalty au. This one sooo good. You will basically watch a movie while reading this. I love it so much ❤️)
✩ Sweets @worldwidemochiguy | Fluff (Soft Yandare Jungkook)
✩ So Close to Perfect @seok-jinnies | Angst ( At first hurt but you will get the comfort eventually)
✩ Late Supper @secretmischief | Angst, Fluff, Smut ( Idol Jungkook au. OC is hurting at first but fluffy ending)
✩ Crush @jungxk | Angst, Fluff, Smut ( Idol Jungkook au. Jungkook lost his memory)
☆ @venusjeon
His Service | Angst, Smut ( Historical, royal au. This one is really angsty. I cried 😭)
l'aquelarre | Angst, Fluff, Slight Smut (Fantasy, Magic au. Witch Jungkook)
From The Depths | Angst, Fluff (Historical, fantasy au. Siren Jungkook)
✩ War-time Child @ktheist | Angst, Fluff (Fantasy, magic au. Slight Harry Potter au. Jungkook is the one with magic)
✩ Webslinger @lemon-boy-stan | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook Spiderman au)
✩ Tangled Thoughts @mimikookie | Angst, Fluff, Slight violence (Jungkook Spiderman au)
✩ Feed Me Fight Me @yeojaa | Angst, slight smut ( Jungkook fighter au. OC is very understanding. Hurt/Comfort fic)
✩ Are you going to stay @hollyhomburg | Angst, Fluff, slight Smut (Jungkook Idol au)
✩ Second Chances @parkhabits | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Jungkook husband au. Almost divorce au)
street kids au with jikook:
“and you know, we’re on each other’s team.”
i see no difference 🤷♀️ hbu?
Stolen Orbit
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: alien au, yandere jk, dark horror, enemies to lovers,
summary: you were meant for eradication with the rest of your planet—erased without a trace, just another speck in the galaxy's endless purge. but jeongguk saw you. fragile, insignificant... human. and something his kind had long forgotten stirred in him. Instead of erasing your existence, he took you, stole you from extinction and made you his.
now you live in a celestial cage, adored and possessed by something not quite capable of love, but desperate to keep you. he doesn't understand your fear, your resistance, but he craves your surrender all the more because of it. and if it takes breaking you to make you his completely... he will.
warnings: slow burn, mass extermination, alien jungkook forced captivity/proximity, psychological manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, ritualistic copulation
word count: 5,857
The Beginning
The sky split open the night they came. You didn’t see it at first, no one did.
You brushed your teeth that night. Standing in your tiny bathroom beneath flickering fluorescent lights, humming faintly to music you can’t remember anymore. A song that cut out mid chorus when everything else did.
You paused, frowned, the mirror vibrated faintly, a shiver running across your reflection. Confused, you flicked the light switch. Nothing.
Reach for your phone. Dead.
Outside, the city dimmed as though someone had thrown a heavy blanket over the world. Buildings blinked out, window by window. Cars stalled silently in the streets.
Then came the sirens. Low and unearthly, vibrating deep in your chest rather than ringing in your ears.
You pressed your palms to the vanity, trying to pinpoint the source.
No alarms.
No helicopters.
No dogs barking or people yelling in the distance.
Just… stillness.
Until the sky broke.
You saw it from your window, face pale in the glass as blackness carved itself across the heavens like a wound tearing through flesh.
It didn’t glow or rage, it hummed.
And through that terrible void came beams of sterile white light.
You watched—paralyzed—as they swept through the streets, swallowing people whole. No fire, no blood, they simply ceased.
Your neighbor clutching her husband on the balcony. The delivery boy halfway up the stairs. A child pedaling frantically on his bicycle.
Gone.
Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. By the time your legs remembered how to function, chaos had bloomed outside.
Screams.
Desperate, useless prayers. People running without knowing where safety even existed.
It didn’t matter.
Your chest crushed inward as panic overtook you. You grabbed your phone, screaming into dead silence, dialing numbers that wouldn’t connect.
Your father’s voicemail.
Your sister’s disconnected line.
The beams moved without emotion, erasing everything they touched as easily as wiping chalk from a board. You don’t remember deciding to run. You don’t remember leaving your apartment. You only remember the maintenance tunnels.
You shoved yourself beneath concrete and metal, nails splitting and bleeding as you slammed the hatch shut above you.
And there you stayed.
For minutes.
Hours.
Days.
Time broke.
The silence that followed was not peaceful.
It was dead.
::::::::::::
When you woke, it was worse. Not because you survived. Not even because the world was gone.
But because you weren’t there anymore.
Your eyes opened to sterility. Smooth, seamless walls of faintly glowing white, like pearl carved from bone. No corners or seams. Just endless smoothness in every direction, as though the room itself were grown rather than built.
There were no windows.
No doors.
Only a faint humming, familiar and yet not. Not the gentle whir of an AC or the buzz of old light bulbs. This was deeper, vibrating at a frequency that scraped against the base of your skull. It sounded like something alive.
You sat up too fast, your breath catching painfully in your throat.
The bed beneath you was impossibly soft, molding to your shape like memory foam, but it didn’t feel right. It smelled faintly of something sweet and sterile, like a flower that had never known dirt.
You clutched the sheets tighter to your chest, your head spinning.
“Hello?” you rasped. No answer, just the never ending hum.
You tried again.
“HELLO?”
Your voice echoed strangely, rebounding without substance, as though the room itself were swallowing the sound.
A prickling sensation raced down your spine as you scrambled to your feet. Your legs were weak and shaky, like you hadn’t used them in days. You stumbled toward the nearest wall and pressed your palms flat against it.
It was warm.
Not cold like metal. Not smooth like glass.
Warm, as though the structure around you was some kind of living skin.
You recoiled instinctively.
“What the fuck,” you whispered.
Your chest heaved as you tried to remember.
Where were you?
Where was your family?
Had you died?
The last thing you remembered was hiding. Listening to the world end. And then— nothing. Your stomach twisted violently. Panic set in like lead poisoning, slow but lethal. You began slamming your fists against the wall.
“LET ME OUT!”
“WHERE AM I?!”
Nothing. No doors appeared, no voices responded. But the hum grew louder, though, it didn’t feel or sound angry. Not mechanical.
It sounded oddly interested.
You froze, pressing your back against the bed as a low chime resonated throughout the space. The wall directly across from you rippled, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone, and opened.
A doorway formed from nothing, and something stepped through.
At first, you thought he was wrong. Everything about him felt off in ways your mind couldn’t fully process.
Tall—towering—with limbs too graceful and too fluid to be comforting.
Skin pale and luminous, glowing softly from within, threaded with faint iridescence that shifted as he moved. Hair dark and weightless, littered with braids adorned with glimmering otherworldly metals, drifting as though underwater. Framing features too symmetrical, too perfect.
And his eyes.
They were unsettling, solid black at first glance.
But as he drew closer, they shifted—illuminated galaxies of silver, violet, and deep cosmic blues, swirling softly in patterns that hurt to stare at for too long.
You stumbled backward, your legs colliding with the bed as your pulse thundered.
He did not flinch, but instead stepped closer.
Graceful. Effortless.
You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Every primitive instinct screamed at you to run, but your body betrayed you. He tilted his head as he regarded you.
Not cruelly, not kindly. Curiously.
His voice slid across your mind rather than your ears.
“You are… fragile.”
You flinched, shaking your head as if a bug was caught in your hair. The words felt invasive, sliding into your consciousness without permission.
He stepped closer.
“I am Jeongguk.”
The name thrums with alien cadence, yet tastes almost familiar in your mind. His glowing eyes flicker faintly, as if pleased by your terror.
“You reside aboard Virexum,” he continues calmly. “This vessel collects and preserves what remains after eradication.”
“Eradication?” you whisper, voice hollow.
“Earth was terminated.”
A pause, as if considering how much you can process. “Your species had reached decay. Pollution. War. Rot. The Kaereth do not preserve weakness. We cleanse.”
The words hit harder than any weapon. You shake your head violently, sobbing openly now.
Your father, your sister. They’re…gone?
“No. No, you can’t— you didn’t—”
“It was mercy.”
His voice softens slightly, but not kindly. “Existence without evolution is entropy. The Kaereth do not allow suffering. We end it.”
You can’t breathe.
You drop to your knees, pressing your palms to your face as the horror swells and breaks inside you.
But he does not.
Tears flooded your vision, hot and blinding as your sobs shattered the sterile silence, ugly and helpless.
He watches you the way one might watch a dying star—quietly admiring, deeply fascinated.
When you finally stilled, he crouched before you, his claws retracting as he reached out. You recoiled instinctively, but he only touched your hair, brushing it back from your damp face with a tenderness that felt foreign.
“I did not erase you,” he murmurs.
You flinch, but his hand cradles your face delicately, tipping it up so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.
“You glowed,” he says, softer now. Almost enthralled.
“Amidst destruction, you clung to life. You burned brighter than the dying world around you. You will not suffer,” he said quietly. “You are mine now. You will be kept.”
Kept.
The word echoed as he stood again, gesturing to the room around you. “This is yours. Safe. Nourishing. You will adjust.”
You choked on disbelief.
“Why me?”
He paused.
And for the first time since he arrived, his expression shifted. His eyes darkened. His lips parted just slightly, almost pious.
“Because,” he murmured, as though speaking to himself, “you glowed brightest before death.”
With that, he turned and left, the wall sealing behind him in silence.
Leaving you alone with the hum, and the terrible, hollow truth that you were the last of your kind. And you were his now.
Whatever that meant.
Whatever that would become.
::::::::::::
You don’t remember sleeping, but when your eyes open again, raw and heavy from hours of silent sobbing, the room is dimmer. The walls, once glowing faintly like a moonlit sea, have softened to a deep, low shimmer, as though mimicking the concept of nighttime.
You’re still here.
Still locked in this dreamless nightmare of seamless walls and soundless air.
Still wearing the thin, pale shift you woke up in, neither warm nor cold, but irritating in its neutrality.
Still alone.
Except… you aren’t.
You feel him before you see him. The hum of the room changes. Deepens, sharpens as though the ship itself reacts to his presence.
You sit up slowly, wiping your face, throat dry from hours of ragged breathing.
When the wall ripples open again, it’s almost gentle. Less like a command, and more like the way curtains are drawn back to allow moonlight in.
And there he stands.
Jeongguk.
Alien. Impossibly elegant.
Unfathomably tall, framed in the soft glow as though carved from the bones of dying stars.
You freeze when his eyes meet yours, not because they’re cruel. But because they are intent.
Hungry.
Unblinking.
“You are awake.”
His voice slides across your mind again, as smooth as silk and as cold as space.
You swallow tightly, sitting rigid on the edge of the bed. Your legs are weak, but you fight to keep your spine straight.
“Please,” you whisper hoarsely, the word tasting hollow in your mouth. “Please just tell me what you want from me.”
He pauses.
“I have told you,” he says, moving forward, soundless as shadow. “You are mine. You will be kept. That is what I want.”
His words make your stomach twist violently. You push up from the bed, backing away until your shoulder blades press into the wall behind you.
“You can’t just— keep me!”
Your voice cracks, teetering between hysteria and disbelief.
“I’m not some… some thing you can collect!”
He stops mid step, considering.
His expression doesn’t change and yet, you can feel the weight of his scrutiny press down on you.
“Incorrect,” he says softly, as though correcting a child. “You are precious. Not a ‘thing’. Not to me.”
You open your mouth to argue, to scream, but your breath catches as something changes.
The bioluminescent lines across his body shift subtly. They pulse gently.
You don’t know why, but the sight makes your heart stutter.
Is that emotion?
Before you can question it, he raises one hand.
A low chime echoes through the room, and from the far wall, a smooth panel unfolds. It reveals a strange, device that emits fragrant steam.
Your stomach clenches painfully as your senses recognize what it is before your mind does.
Food.
Or, at least, something meant to replicate it. Soft, pale orbs float in an iridescent broth, giving off a smell not unlike fresh bread and honey.
It should be comforting.
But in this place, nothing feels comforting.
“You have not consumed nourishment in sixteen of your planet’s hours,” Jeongguk says calmly, gesturing toward the offering.
“Your body weakens. This is inefficient.”
You hesitate, eyeing the bowl warily.
“I’m not hungry,” you lie.
His head tilts, faintly reptilian in the gesture, and for the first time, a flicker of something sharper edges into his tone.
“You will eat.”
The words are not barked.
Not threatening.
But absolute.
You stare back at him, shaking slightly.
And when you make no move to comply, he steps forward and takes the bowl himself, walking closer until he is far too near. He crouches, folding gracefully in front of you like a predator settling in for the kill.
But instead of violence, he offers you the bowl directly.
Holding it out, waiting patiently.
“Eat,” he murmurs.
His eyes glow faintly as they fix on your face.
“For me.”
Your lips part helplessly. Something in the way he says it. Quiet, almost intimately, sends your skin crawling and burning at once.
You hate him.
You hate him.
You hate him.
And yet…
Your body obeys. Your fingers tremble as you accept the bowl, lifting one of the pale orbs to your lips.
It tastes… nothing like food.
But it dissolves softly on your tongue, leaving behind warmth that creeps slowly down your throat.
Not unpleasant, not pleasurable. Just… filling.
Sustaining.
You eat in silence, aware of his unwavering gaze as you do. When the bowl empties, he takes it back carefully, setting it aside.
“Better,” he says quietly.
You can’t meet his eyes.
The tears come again without permission, sliding hot and heavy down your face. You curl in on yourself, trying to muffle the broken sounds that escape your throat.
And then… a touch.
Featherlight at first, fingers ghosting against your temple, sliding into your hair.
You tense, but he does not press.
“You fear me.” His words are not questioning. “Good. It is natural. You are fragile.”
Your breath hitches painfully.
His hand slips lower, knuckles grazing your cheek with maddening delicacy.
“But fear will fade,” he continues softly. “In time, you will see. I am not cruel. I am constant. You will not be harmed. You will be… cherished.”
You turn your head away sharply and his fingers slip free, but you feel the weight of his focus intensify.
“You misunderstand your position,” he murmurs. “Earth is gone. You are alone in a universe that has no place for you. No one will come for you. No one can.”
You clench your fists tightly in your lap, the truth cutting deeper than his touch ever could.
“Why me?” you ask, voice breaking. “Why not let me die with the rest?”
He leans in slightly, his presence invading your every sense.
“Because when others knelt and wept… you raged,” he whispers. “You burned. You clung to life with ferocity. That is rare.”
His eyes soften, if such a thing is possible for something so alien.
“I collect what should not exist.” A faint smile, too serene, too knowing. “You are an anomaly. You are mine.”
You bite down hard on your lower lip, forcing back another sob.
“This isn’t cherishing,” you whisper bitterly.
“This is prison.”
He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he rises slowly, towering over you once more. His hands fold neatly behind his back. The perfect image of composed, regal authority.
“No,” he agrees softly. “This is preservation.”
He steps back toward the door, but his voice reaches you again as it ripples open to accept him.
“Rest. I will return when you are calmer.”
A pause.
“And eventually… you will thank me.”
Then he is gone.
And you’re eft in the silence once more—but not alone.
Not really.
Because his scent still lingers. His voice still hums faintly in your mind. And worse, you realize part of you is already listening for his return.
::::::::::::
You don’t see him again for three cycles. You don’t know how you know this. There’s no sun here, no night and day, no ticking clock on sterile walls—but your body remembers.
It remembers the ache of hunger.
The slow unraveling of sanity when left in isolation. The bone deep dread that blooms in the absence of any other voice but your own.
For seventy two hours, maybe more, maybe less, you are alone.
The ship hums softly at all hours, the walls glowing faintly like a slumbering beast. Your room, if you can even call it that, remains locked.
No doors.
No windows.
Just blank, seamless walls and a bed that conforms to your every restless shift.
Food appears twice, delivered silently through a hidden panel in the wall, but you ignore it. You sit curled on the bed, stomach clenching painfully, but you refuse to give in.
Not again, not after last time.
He’d fed you like a child.
Watched you with something sickly tender in his eyes while you cried and ate and fell apart in front of him.
No.
You will not make this easy for him. Your anger is all you have left. The only shield between you and the quiet, desperate terror that creeps in when you allow yourself to feel anything else.
So you don’t eat.
You don’t sleep.
You don’t talk to the empty room, no matter how loud the silence becomes.
You wait.
Because you know he’ll come back, of course he will.
Men like him, things like him, always come back.
And when he does, you are ready.
—
He appears on the fourth cycle.
Not like before, there’s no grand entrance. No rippling doors or ominous hums.
You wake to find him already there, standing at the foot of the bed like a phantom who has always belonged in your nightmares. He watches you in silence, arms folded behind his back, eyes glowing softly in the low light.
You glare at him, lips cracked from dehydration.
He says nothing.
“Fuck you.”
Your voice scrapes like gravel against your raw throat, but it feels good to say.
Good to bite, even if your teeth barely graze.
His head tilts slightly, that same alien gesture that makes your stomach turn.
“You are weakening,” he observes softly, almost clinically. “Your refusal to consume nourishment endangers your cellular structure. This is illogical.”
You laugh, sharp and brittle.
“Good. Let me die, then.”
For the first time, his expression shifts, not dramatically, but his brows knit slightly, his mouth drawing in the faintest sliver.
He doesn’t like that.
“Negative,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “I will not allow termination.”
You push yourself up on shaking arms, baring your teeth in something that feels more animal than human.
“I don’t belong to you. You can’t keep me like this. Feeding me, locking me in this—this cage! I’ll starve before I let you win.”
His eyes narrow faintly, glowing brighter. “You misunderstand,” he murmurs, his voice lowering dangerously.
“This is not a contest,” he moves closer, slow, deliberate steps that make your pulse spike and your limbs tremble. “This is inevitability.”
You scramble off the bed, stumbling backward until your spine hits the wall. His presence consumes the room, filling every atom of available space, as though the ship itself responds to his shifting mood.
He stands before you now, towering and still.
“You may resist,” he allows softly. “You may cry, scream, refuse… for a time.”
His hand rises, not threatening, but steady as his fingers gently, maddeningly, brush your jaw. The touch sends a bolt of revulsion and something more complicated spiraling through you.
“But you will acclimate.”
His voice vibrates softly in your bones, dangerous in its certainty.
You slap his hand away, the sound cracking through the air like gunfire.
For a moment, nothing happens.
He simply stares at you, the tips of his fingers still poised where they had been, motionless, as though stunned.
And then…he withdraws, silently. Without anger or words. Simply steps back, gaze unreadable, and turns for the door.
Panic flashes hot and instant through your chest. “No—” you gasp, confused by your own terror at his sudden departure.
He stops just before the wall seals behind him. For the first time, his voice emerges aloud, not through your mind, but spoken.
Low.
Flat.
Cold.
“You have chosen isolation.”
Then he’s gone, and so is everything else.
The hum of the ship fades, the lights dim to near darkness. The temperature drops, not enough to freeze, but enough to chill your skin, to make your breath puff faintly in the air.
The bed retracts into the wall.
The food panel vanishes.
You are left standing in nothing.
Cold.
Alone.
—
For hours—maybe days—you are abandoned to the hollow, oppressive silence.
Your tears dry.
Your voice fades from hoarseness to nothing. Your legs give out, and you curl on the hard floor, clutching yourself tightly as sleep eludes you in the endless dark.
You hate him.
You hate him.
You hate him.
But when the wall finally ripples open again, soft, warm light spilling through and his tall, silent figure appears in the doorway once more, you sob.
Relief.
Humiliation.
Rage.
You don’t understand which emotion is which anymore.
He crosses the threshold slowly, eyes glowing faintly in gentle shades of blue and pink. Soft, careful, like a predator soothing prey after the kill.
Without speaking, he kneels before you, gathering your shaking body into his arms. You don’t fight him this time.
You can’t.
You’re too cold.
Too broken.
His hand strokes your hair as he murmurs something low in his language, soft syllables that sound like lullabies from a galaxy you will never see.
“I will not harm you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your temple. “Do not make me hurt you through absence again; I ache.”
Your fingers clutch his robe weakly, sobs muffled against his chest.
“I hate you,” you whisper, but it’s empty.
Weak.
He hums softly.
“I know.”
He pulls you closer, cradling you as though you are delicate and rare, because to him, you are.
“And yet you need me.”
You can’t argue.
Not right now.
Not when his warmth is the only thing that feels real in this endless void of stars and silence.
::::::::::::
You don’t sleep, even when your body begs you to.
Sleep would mean trusting the silence, surrendering.
So you lay awake on the strange, pliant surface that the ship has provided. Not quite a bed, but softer than the floor that left your bones aching and cold during your punishment.
You are still recovering from that.
The ache of isolation.
The terror of being truly, utterly alone.
But more than that… you are recovering from the humiliation.
Because when he returned, when he found you curled and trembling, teeth chattering and face raw from tears, you clung to him.
You didn’t mean to.
Your body simply reacted, desperate and starved for anything warm and familiar.
Your fingers twisted into the dark folds of his robes, your face pressed into the cool planes of his chest, and you wept like a creature broken open.
And Jeongguk did nothing but hold you.
No words.
No threats.
No cruel satisfaction.
Just stillness.
Just presence.
His hands stroked your back, slow and repetitive, the way you imagine one might soothe a terrified animal.
His head bent low, his breath ghosting against your temple as he whispered words in a language your mind couldn’t translate, soft and melodic, making you feel drunk with the weight of them.
Even now, hours later, his scent still lingers on your skin.
Warm and metallic.
Alien and oddly sweet.
Like lightning woven into silk.
You hate that you find comfort in it now. You hate yourself more than you hate him, but the truth is suffocating in its simplicity.
You needed him.
And he knew it.
—
The door ripples again, seamlessly and without warning. You stiffen instinctively, heart leaping to your throat.
But when Jeongguk steps through, he does not bring the same oppressive energy he had before.
There is no towering, silent menace, or sharp glint of irritation or frustration in his starlit eyes.
Instead…he looks calm, serene, even.
His robes have changed. Still dark, but lighter now. Softer. He wears no armor, or sharp adornments. His hair hangs loose, gleaming faintly in the ship’s low bioluminescence.
He looks… domestic.
If such a word could ever apply to him.
The ship itself seems to respond, the walls brightening subtly, soft, ambient pulses that make the air feel warmer somehow.
More intimate.
Less clinical.
It unnerves you more than his previous coldness.
“Good,” he says quietly, his voice sliding into your consciousness with practiced ease. “You remain.”
You glare at him, but your body betrays you again, relaxing minutely at the familiar cadence of his presence.
“I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?” you mutter bitterly.
Jeongguk tilts his head slightly, considering.
“No,” he agrees softly. “But you remained nonetheless.”
The phrasing makes something twist painfully low in your stomach. Before you can respond, he approaches, slow, careful steps as though approaching something fragile.
Which, in his eyes, you suppose you are.
He lowers himself gracefully beside you on the bed like surface, close enough that you feel the subtle hum of his energy brushing against your skin.
“I have observed,” he begins, tone thoughtful. “Prolonged isolation causes distress beyond simple physical discomfort in your species.”
You scoff, wrapping your arms around your knees protectively.
“Yeah. That’s called being human.”
He hums softly, as though filing the information away like a precious resource.
“I have no desire to harm you, little star,” he murmurs, and his hand lifts, pausing in the air between you, as if seeking silent permission.
You don’t give it.
But you don’t pull away when his fingers brush lightly across your hair, tucking it back from your face.
His touch is careful.
Maddening.
“I desire only your peace.”
You choke on a bitter laugh.
“Peace? You abducted me, destroyed my planet, locked me in this ship and act like that’s kindness.”
His expression softens, strangely fond despite your venom.
“You misunderstand,” he says gently.
“I did not destroy your planet. I spared you from its fate.”
His fingers trail down, brushing against the curve of your cheek, the line of your jaw, and you shiver despite yourself.
“You were meant to end,” he continues softly, voice almost hypnotic. “But you burned. You raged. You survived.”
His thumb strokes softly against your lower lip, a touch so tender you forget, briefly, how much you despise him.
“You are rare,” he murmurs. “And rare things are not discarded. They are treasured.”
The words settle in your chest like poison wrapped in silk. You should recoil, should slap his hand away, curse him until your throat gives out.
But instead…you close your eyes.
Just for a moment.
Just long enough to feel the soft press of his palm against your cheek, anchoring you in this strange, terrible reality.
He takes your silence as permission.
Of course he does.
“Good,” he breathes, satisfaction humming softly in his voice. “You are learning.”
You force your eyes open, glaring weakly at him.
“Learning what?”
His lips curl faintly, not quite a smile, but something disturbingly close.
“To accept.”
You hate him.
You hate him.
But when he shifts closer, pressing his body flush to yours, wrapping an arm carefully around your shoulders, you don’t pull away.
You are cold.
You are tired.
You are alone.
And he is warm.
He is steady.
He is here.
You rest your head against his shoulder before you can think better of it, disgust warring with relief in your chest.
Jungkook says nothing, but the ship hums softly around you, glowing faintly in shades of rose and gold. Contentment radiating from every surface.
You don’t realize how tightly you’ve curled against him until his mouth brushes the crown of your head.
“You will see soon,” he murmurs, words sinking deep into your bones. “I am not your enemy. I am your only constant.”
You fall asleep before you can argue. And for the first time since Earth fell, you sleep through the cycle without waking to scream.
::::::::::::
You wake to warmth.
Not the clinical, neutral temperature of the ship. That engineered comfort that feels more like a lack of discomfort than real heat but true warmth.
Soft.
Heavy.
Alive.
For a moment, your mind refuses to grasp why.
You are tucked beneath something impossibly smooth and weighty , fabric like liquid silk draped over your body, cocooning you in decadent softness.
And behind you, against the curve of your spine, something solid.
Firm.
Breathing.
A heartbeat thrums, steady and deep, so close it vibrates through your back and into your bones.
Not the ship.
Him.
Jeongguk.
You go rigid before you can think. Your hands clench the sheets, alien and faintly iridescent m, as you strain to control your breathing.
You are being held, no, you are being kept.
His arm is heavy across your waist, claws retracted but still unsettling, his fingers resting just beneath your ribcage with terrifying intimacy. His face is pressed lightly to the crown of your head, long hair brushing against your temple like ghost silk.
For several agonizing seconds, you debate your options.
Pull away.
Wake him.
Escape—if that’s even possible anymore.
But as your heart hammers and your stomach twists, you realize something worse.
You don’t want to move.
Because for the first time in what feels like forever, you are not cold, you are not alone, or terrified of what silence might bring.
You are simply… held.
And that, somehow, feels more dangerous than anything he’s done so far.
He stirs before you can make a decision.
The shift is subtle, the faint tightening of his grip, the softening of his breath, the way the ship’s hum lifts faintly, mirroring the change in atmosphere.
Then his voice slides into your mind, quieter than usual.
Thicker.
“You are awake.”
You flinch slightly, but he does not move away. Instead, he exhales slowly, the sound almost… content.
“You slept well,” he murmurs aloud this time, his voice low and textured, as though speaking in words costs him more effort than using your mind.
“You did not cry.”
Shame burns through you instantly. You twist beneath his arm, trying to put space between your bodies, but his hold tightens slightly.
“No,” he says softly, head dipping lower so that his breath brushes the shell of your ear. “Stay.”
Your heart races painfully.
“Why?” you whisper, hating the smallness in your voice.
His answer is simple.
“Because you do not truly wish to leave.”
You freeze.
He doesn’t say it cruelly.
He doesn’t taunt or mock.
He speaks it as though it is a fact he has long since accepted and is merely waiting for you to do the same.
Before you can respond, he shifts, drawing back just enough to allow you to turn and face him. The sight steals the words from your throat.
Up close, he is devastating.
More than alien.
More than beautiful.
His features are carved from something you do not have words for, too elegant to be called soft, too precise to be human. His silver violet eyes glow faintly in the dimness, framed by dark lashes that cast delicate shadows across high cheekbones.
But it is the way he looks at you that truly leaves you breathless.
Not with desire.
Not with hunger.
With… possession. As though you are the first and only star in his universe.
You turn your face away, pulse hammering.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
He does not obey.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m—”
You falter, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
“Yours,” you finish bitterly.
His hand moves, fingers brushing your jaw, guiding you gently to meet his gaze again.
“You are mine,” he murmurs softly, as though stating something as mundane as the time of day. “You remain only because I desire it. You live because I allow it. You breathe because I have given you this sanctuary.”
The words are cruel in logic, yet his voice is gentle.
You tremble beneath the weight of them, but he only continues, thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone.
“But you do not need to fear that.” He leans closer, voice dropping lower, coaxing you like one would soothe a frightened animal.
“You do not need to fight so hard. You are cared for. Sheltered. Treasured.”
You want to scream. Want to tell him how wrong he is, how suffocating this is.
But your body remembers the days alone in the dark.
The cold.
The ache.
The crushing silence that left you frantic and desperate for any presence at all. And your body, traitorous and desperate, does not want to return to that.
So instead, you say nothing.
You simply let him hold you.
Let his touch stroke soothing patterns against your spine.
Let your eyes slip closed, not because you want him, but because for now… he feels safe.
—
The days that follow blur together.
Jeongguk becomes a near constant presence, no longer leaving for long stretches. He is always near. Quietly watching, quietly touching, quietly existing in every corner of your small world.
Meals are no longer delivered in silence.
Now, he brings them himself, sitting beside you as you eat, observing your reactions with soft fascination, as though memorizing every flicker of expression.
He asks questions, though never demands answers.
“Why do you frown when eating this?”
“Does this flavor please you more?”
“Do you enjoy these colors?”
It’s strange. Stranger still when you find yourself answering.
Not out of obligation or out of fear. But because the emptiness left by silence is worse.
You talk quietly, giving short answers at first, but over time, they grow longer. You explain foods you miss. You describe music, books, seasons. You speak of snow and rain and laughter, and though he listens with alien detachment, he seems oddly enchanted by your words.
“You will show me,” he says one cycle, after you describe autumn leaves falling in lazy spirals.
You blink at him in confusion.
“Earth is gone.”
His head tilts.
“Virexum can make what you desire.”
You do not know whether to be horrified or grateful. But when the next cycle arrives, your room transforms.The walls ripple and shift until soft amber light filters through projected trees.
Illusions of wind rustle leaves that glow faintly gold and crimson.
You laugh, startled and disbelieving.
And Jeongguk…
He smiles.
Not wide.
Not human.
But soft, and faintly victorious.
As though every small inch you offer him, every smile, every word, every sigh, is another chain wound tightly around your wrists.
—
It happens one night as you sit side by side on the bed, eating quietly. Your hands brush when reaching for the same dish and you both freeze.
The contact is brief.
Innocent.
But it lingers. His fingers slide softly over yours, slow and intentional as though mapping the shape of them.
You don’t pull away, pulse racing, your cheeks flush, but still, you let it happen.
Something shifts in his gaze.
It’s not hunger, not cruelty…longing.
The moment stretches and the ship grows impossibly quiet, as though the walls themselves are holding their breath. You’re the one who breaks it, pulling your hand away with a nervous laugh that sounds too loud in the stillness.
Jeongguk says nothing.
But his eyes follow you all the same, glowing softly in the dim amber light.
Watching.
Always watching.
—
That night, as you lay down and let him pull you close, his arms wrapping securely around your body as though sealing you in, you don’t resist.
You let him tuck your head beneath his chin, your hands curl lightly against his chest.
And when he whispers against your hair, voice low and factual, “you are becoming mine.”
You don’t argue.
Because deep down, beneath the remnants of your rage and sorrow, beneath the tangled mess of shame and longing—
You know he is right.
two | masterlist
Table Four
pairing: taehyung x reader
genre: college au, strangers to lovers, angsty fluff
summary: when he sees you at a campus café on a random tuesday, he knows he has to know you. but you’ve sworn off love after a brutal breakup and want nothing more than to focus on yourself. what starts with a croissant and a crooked smile slowly turns into study sessions, spontaneous adventures, and a love story neither of you saw coming.
warnings: college setting, soft fluff ☺️💕, mutual pining, slow burn, a tiny sprinkle of angst, mentions of academic stress, an emotionally devastating finals week, and EXCESSIVE flirting by one very persistent taehyung.
a message from our sponsors 💁🏽♀️: yes, the cover picture is huge af & in your face because…i mean he’s MY MAN, why wouldn’t i want to look at him all big and up close? 🤨💟
word count: 7,478
Taehyung wasn’t even supposed to be there.
He had an econ lecture in ten minutes on the other side of campus, a half finished paper on his laptop, and a group chat that was slowly imploding over whose turn it was to make the slideshow.
But all of that faded into static the moment he got a craving for a croissant. Not just any croissant—one from Bean There, the cozy little café tucked between the music hall and the campus bookstore. The one with honey butter, flaky layers, and, according to his friend Jimin, the best ratio of pastry-to-price-to-aesthetic.
He slipped through the front door, brushing damp curls from his forehead as the warm air hit him. It smelled like cinnamon and espresso, and he let the scent wrap around him as he approached the counter.
That’s when he saw you.
Table Four.
You were hunched over a psych textbook the size of a baby elephant, one earbud in, matcha latte sweating quietly beside your planner. A purple pen danced between your fingers. The other hand tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie every few seconds like your body needed something to do while your brain focused on neurotransmitters or Freud or whatever madness you were dealing with.
You didn’t notice him. Not at first. But Taehyung noticed you.
He felt it in his chest—the kind of jolt that said wait. You had a look about you—sharp but tired, soft in a way that people probably didn’t give you enough credit for. Like someone who carried their own weight and still offered to help others with theirs.
He stared a second too long, then caught himself and turned toward the counter.
“Can I get two croissants?” he asked, and then, almost without thinking, “And… those mini wildflower bouquets. That one with the yellow ribbon.”
The barista looked amused but didn’t question it.
Maybe they were used to college boys doing dumb things for pretty girls. Taehyung took his haul—two pastries and the little bouquet that looked slightly wilted but still sweet—and made his way over to your table like a man with a mission.
He cleared his throat gently.
You looked up slowly, pulling out your earbud, blinking like you were trying to place him in a memory you didn’t have.
“I’m Taehyung. Taehyung Kim,” he said, flashing his best smile.
You blinked again. “Okay?”
“These are for you.”
You looked down. At the croissant. The flowers. Back up. “Why?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly, shifting his weight. “But I think if I give them to you, you might tell me your name.”
You stared at him like he was an essay prompt you weren’t prepared for.
Across the room, two girls at a corner table were watching and whispering, clearly invested. One of them mouthed, shoot your shot, and made a tiny fist pump.
He stayed where he was, not pressing. Just offering. The croissant was still warm. The flowers bent a little in the draft from the door, petals fluttering.
“You’re serious,” you said.
“Deadly.”
You huffed a laugh. “You’re bold.”
“I’m Taehyung,” he repeated with a wink.
You looked him up and down like you were trying to decide if this was real life or a fever dream brought on by lack of sleep and too much caffeine. “No,” you said finally, returning your focus to your textbook. “But… thanks for the snack.”
It wasn’t a yes. It wasn’t a full no either. It was a door left open just a crack.
Taehyung picked up the untouched croissant, unwrapped it, and placed it gently on top of your notes.
“For your brain,” he said with a grin.
And then he walked away.
Out the door. Back into the cold.
And for the rest of the day, you occupied way more space in his mind than his paper, his class, or his very irritated group chat.
^^^^^^^^
Taehyung burst into their shared suite like a man possessed.
Jimin was upside down on the couch, legs draped over the back cushions and phone resting on his chest. Hoseok was perched cross legged at the breakfast bar, scrolling through notes while stress eating fruit loops. Seokjin was in the tiny kitchenette, slicing fruit like he was auditioning for a cooking show.
All three looked up as Taehyung slammed the door, breathless.
“I met someone,” he announced dramatically.
Jimin rolled his eyes. “You met someone last week. And the week before that. And the week before—”
“No, no. This is different.” Taehyung threw his bag on the floor and spun like a theater major mid monologue. “I didn’t even know her name and I bought her flowers.”
Hoseok dropped his chopsticks. “You bought someone flowers?”
Seokjin squinted. “Is this an emergency?”
“Yes,” Taehyung said, dead serious. “I’m in love.”
Jimin groaned. “You say that every time someone breathes near you with good eyebrows.”
Taehyung pointed at him. “She had a psych book the size of a small country and a matcha latte. She said no to me. With full eye contact. No. Like I was a door to door salesman trying to pitch essential oils.”
Hoseok choked on a fruit loop. “Damn.”
“And she took the croissant,” Taehyung continued. “But not the flowers. She just left them on the table like a message. Like—‘thanks, peasant, but I am not to be wooed today.’”
Seokjin looked mildly concerned. “Did she hurt you?”
“No, but she could. And I would thank her for it.”
Jimin sat up, rubbing his face. “You don’t even know her name?”
“Not yet. But I will. Table Four, Bean There café. Every day if I have to.”
“God, he’s spiraling,” Hoseok muttered, passing Seokjin his bowl.
“I’m fine,” Taehyung said. “I’m just… invested. Emotionally. Spiritually. Academically.”
“She’s a psych major, huh?” Seokjin asked, sipping from his water bottle. “Explains why she’s not falling for your chaos.”
“I think she’s been through something,” Taehyung murmured, more serious now. “She had that look. You know… like she’s trying really hard not to believe in good things anymore.”
The room went quiet for a second.
Then Jimin said, “You’re so whipped already. I haven’t even seen her and I want her to give you a chance.”
Taehyung grinned. “Same.”
^^^^^^^^
Taehyung had a reputation for forgetting important things—his dorm key, due dates, what time class started—but he remembered you.
The curve of your lips when you told him “no” like it was a complete sentence. The slight twitch of amusement in your brow when he insisted he was serious. The way you stared back like you were used to brushing people off, like you were tired of being looked at like a puzzle someone could solve with a smile.
You didn’t know it, but you haunted him.
So, he went back to Bean There. Every single day.
Not in a weird way. Okay, maybe in a slightly weird way. But he sat at a different table each time, ordered something new, and kept one eye on Table Four like a man casually waiting on fate to show up with her purple pen and unbothered energy.
Day two: no sign of you.
Day three: a glimpse. You walked in, spotted him already sitting at your usual spot with a croissant and a hopeful smile—and turned right around and left.
He blinked. Sighed. Took a bite of the croissant and muttered, “Bold of you to resist destiny.”
But day four?
You sat down across from him.
“I’ve decided I’m not going to let you win,” you said plainly.
Taehyung blinked, startled. “I’m sorry—what?”
“You’re obviously playing the long game. Showing up here every day, waiting around like you’re in a romcom montage. It’s textbook persistence. I won’t be manipulated.”
Taehyung pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking. “Is… is this your way of saying you missed me?”
“Not even a little.”
“Then why are you here?”
You looked at him then. Really looked. “Because I’m tired. And you’re… persistent. And I have a lot of reading to do and this place has the best quality drinks my money can buy.”
He leaned back in his chair, beaming. “I’ll take it.”
You rolled your eyes but stayed put.
You didn’t tell him your name. Not yet. But you accepted the croissant and took his pen when yours ran out of ink. You let him sit beside you instead of across from you, and when he asked if he could see your textbook—“just to check if it’s cursed”—you didn’t say no.
Progress.
^^^^^^^^
Later that week, he found you outside the library in a study circle with three other students. He nearly walked by—he didn’t want to be annoying—but then he heard you laugh.
Taehyung stopped mid step.
You were glowing in the late afternoon sun, head tilted back, cheeks flushed from something someone had said. The group looked tight knit. Comfortable. Like you’d known each other for a while.
He stepped forward anyway.
“You guys studying for Abnormal Psych?” he asked, backpack slung over one shoulder.
The girl with the buzzcut nodded. “Yeah, why?”
“I’m in the class,” he lied smoothly. “Mind if I join?”
You looked up. Eyes narrowed.
“You’re not in this class.”
“I learn fast,” he said, already sitting down on the edge of the blanket someone had thrown across the grass. “Name’s Taehyung.”
Buzzcut girl perked up. “I’ve heard of you. You did karaoke dressed as an anime character at the bio major mixer.”
“Guilty,” he grinned.
“Didn’t know you were in psych, though.”
“Oh, I’m more of a… community learner.”
You snorted softly despite yourself. “This is a closed study group.”
“Not anymore,” Buzzcut girl said, pulling out her flashcards. “He brought gummy bears.”
Taehyung passed the bag to you first, catching your eye. “For your brain.”
You shook your head—but didn’t refuse them.
^^^^^^^^
Over the next two weeks, he became a fixture in your orbit.
He never asked for more than you gave, but he was always around—texting you helpful mnemonics, scribbling dumb doodles in the margins of your notes, bringing lattes and whispering jokes during tense study sessions.
You didn’t realize you’d started waiting for him until one day he was late and your stomach felt weird.
He showed up five minutes later with windblown hair and a sheepish grin. “Sorry, spilled yogurt on my pants and had to change. Very heroic story, I’ll tell it in full later.”
You didn’t say anything. Just nudged your shoulder against his as he sat down beside you.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
But he didn’t say a word. He just smiled.
Because you still hadn’t said yes to dinner. You hadn’t said yes to “just one date.”
But you’d stopped saying no.
^^^^^^^^
It was the kind of party that smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and bad decisions—one of those “someone’s cousin knows the guy who owns this place” situations where no one really belonged but no one got kicked out either.
The porch was packed. The lawn was wrecked. Someone had already duct taped a traffic cone to the roof.
It was a Thursday.
Your roommate had dragged you out. She was currently glittered from head to toe and sipping a vodka cranberry like it was a rite of passage.
“This is exactly what you need,” Nia said over the music. “One night. No textbooks. No overthinking. Just vibes.”
You weren’t sure if just vibes was medically advisable, but you’d worn your favorite jeans, a cute little corset Nia let you borrow, and actually styled your hair. So you were halfway committed.
And then he appeared.
Taehyung, standing in the hallway like he knew he was the main character—dress shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, rings glinting in the dim light, curls wild and his grin wilder. Jimin was beside him, all smirks and shoulder shrugs, clearly playing wingman for the night.
You caught Taehyung’s eye.
And he lit up.
“Look who finally decided to be fun,” he said, weaving through the crowd like he had a spotlight following him.
“You’re everywhere,” you muttered, sipping your drink.
“I contain multitudes,” he replied, offering his hand with zero irony. “Dance with me.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Just one song?”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet…”
You let him pull you in.
Just one song. One dumb, thumping remix with bass that shook the walls and made your teeth buzz. Taehyung danced like no one was watching—and if they were, he didn’t care. Loose, confident, chaotic in a way that made you laugh more than you should’ve. He pulled you into it without thinking—hands on your waist, forehead nearly brushing yours, smiling like you were already his.
Then it turned into two songs. Then three.
You pretended not to notice how close he got. How your body moved in sync with his. How his hands never strayed too far, but also never let you drift.
When the music shifted into something slower, more nostalgic, you ducked out with a mumbled, “Need some air.”
Taehyung followed. Of course he did.
The backyard was quieter. Cooler. The string lights hanging between trees buzzed softly, casting a golden halo around everything. You leaned against the porch railing, drink in hand, and tried to act unaffected.
“You’re good at that,” he said after a minute.
“At what?”
“Pretending you’re not having a good time.”
You glanced at him. “Maybe I’m not.”
“You are.” He bumped his shoulder against yours. “You laughed three times. Snorted once. That’s a strong indicator of fun.”
You rolled your eyes. “Maybe I’m just easy to amuse.”
“I don’t think you’re easy at all.”
That pulled your gaze back to him.
Taehyung didn’t look away.
He wasn’t smiling now. Not exactly. Just… watching you, like he was waiting for something.
“Why me?” you asked softly. “You flirt with everyone.”
“Not like this.”
You blinked. “Like what?”
“Like I mean it.”
The words sat heavy in the air between you. Not overwhelming. Not demanding. Just there—a quiet truth.
You didn’t know what to do with it.
So you leaned in, just a little. Just close enough to tempt fate.
And then Nia called your name from across the yard, voice bright and urgent.
You stepped back.
Just enough to make Taehyung smile—small, understanding, but with a flicker of disappointment he didn’t quite hide.
“Almost,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.
You didn’t respond.
Because almost was already more than you meant to give him.
^^^^^^^^
Inside, as the night wore on, Taehyung sat on the arm of the couch nursing a beer while Jimin hovered beside him.
“You okay?” Jimin asked, nodding toward the door you’d walked through.
“Yeah,” Taehyung said, eyes still on the space where you’d stood. “She makes me nervous in a good way.”
“Oof, that’s the scariest kind.”
Taehyung nodded. “I know.”
^^^^^^^^
The first day of summer was supposed to taste like freedom.
You’d graduated with honors, your cap decorated in glitter and photos, your cheeks sore from smiling. The night before, you and Damian had promised to meet at your favorite coffee spot to plan everything—dorm lists, road trip playlists, countdowns until move-in day. You were so ready for the next chapter.
He was fifteen minutes late.
That should’ve been your first clue.
You were halfway through your iced vanilla latte when he finally walked in, hands in his pockets, hair still wet from his morning shower. He didn’t kiss your cheek like he usually did. Didn’t smile like he had the night before when you slow danced to no music in your driveway.
He just slid into the booth across from you and looked down at his hands.
You remember the cold bloom of instinct in your gut. The kind that whispered, something’s wrong before anything had even been said.
“Babe?”
He didn’t look at you.
“I got into UCLA,” he said.
You blinked. “What?”
“I applied in secret. Early decision.”
“But…” You laughed, confused. “We were going to State. We both committed—”
“I didn’t sign anything,” he cut in. “I waited.”
The room spun.
“Why?”
Damian looked up then. Not cruel. Not angry. Just… removed. Like he’d already made peace with the explosion and was just waiting for the dust to settle.
“Because high school sweethearts is cute,” he said softly. “But it’s also… high school. I want to see what college has to offer.”
You stared at him, chest rising and falling like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe right.
“I don’t want to be tied down,” he added.
That part hit the hardest.
Like all your plans—every phone call about future dorm setups, every hand squeezing moment when college felt scary—had been your fantasy, and he’d just been playing along. Like your love had an expiration date, and he’d already circled it in red.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and asked the only question you could manage:
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess… today.”
You nodded slowly, as if your heart hadn’t just been cracked down the middle.
“You could’ve just said you didn’t love me anymore.”
He winced. “It’s not that. I do. Just… not enough to stay.”
That was worse.
You didn’t cry. Not in the booth. Not in front of him.
You just stood, left your untouched drink on the table, and walked out into the summer sun that suddenly felt all wrong.
That night, you packed away every picture. Deleted every message. Blocked his name from your college folder. And when Nia came over with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of tequila, you didn’t say a word.
You just shook your head and promised yourself:
Next time, it’ll be different.
If there even was a next time.
^^^^^^^^
The rain started around sunset—soft at first, like a whisper against the windows. But by nightfall, it was pouring, steady and rhythmic, turning the sidewalks into mirrors and the air into something heavier.
You were at the library, third floor, tucked into a booth that always smelled faintly of printer ink and pencil shavings. A hoodie swallowed your frame, sleeves pushed past your knuckles as you clicked between tabs on your laptop. Notes, study guide, quizlet, back to notes.
You were trying to be productive.
Trying not to think.
But the words blurred together, and your chest felt tight, and your coffee had gone cold an hour ago.
You thought about texting Nia.
You thought about crying.
Instead, you just sat there, headphones in but no music playing, watching the cursor blink like it knew how close you were to breaking.
I want to see what college has to offer.
You could still hear Damian’s voice. Calm. Certain. As if you hadn’t spent two years memorizing each other’s schedules and picking out twin bedspreads. As if you hadn’t built an entire future together only for him to drop it in your lap like a stone and walk away.
You blinked fast. Swallowed hard.
And then—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You looked up.
Taehyung.
Dripping wet from the rain, curls flattened against his forehead, hoodie dark with water around the shoulders. He grinned through it all, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a lumpy, too bright bouquet in the other.
“Emergency snack delivery,” he said, voice muffled by the air pods still in your ears.
You tugged one out. “What are you—how did you know I was here?”
“You’re a creature of habit,” he said. “And you said you study here during exam week.”
“I could’ve gone anywhere.”
He shrugged. “But you didn’t.”
He sat across from you, no hesitation, already pulling things from the bag: chocolate covered pretzels, sour gummy worms, two croissants, and a lavender canned tea. Then—like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat—he produced a single, rainbow gel pen.
You blinked. “Is that mine?”
“I found it in your psych notes.”
“You stole my pen?”
“Borrowed. For morale.”
You stared at the offerings on the table.
“You okay?” he asked, quieter now. The smile hadn’t disappeared, but it had softened, curved at the edges with concern.
You hesitated. “Just tired.”
He nodded. “Tired sucks.”
And somehow, that made it easier.
You let him stay. Let him quiz you in a silly voice. Let him dramatically act out memory devices like you were cramming for a Broadway audition instead of a midterm. You laughed. More than once. He caught you smiling down at your notebook and said nothing—but he noticed.
Like he always did
At one point, you let your head fall against the window. He reached across the table and tucked your pen behind your ear like it was something precious. His fingers brushed your cheek, just for a second, and your whole body sparked like a struck match.
You didn’t pull away.
But you didn’t lean in either.
He didn’t push.
When the library announced its closing, you packed your things slowly. He waited. Held your laptop sleeve without asking. Walked beside you in the rain without offering an umbrella—just held it high enough for both of you to huddle under.
When you got to your door, you turned to face him.
The porch light flickered above your head. He looked at you like you were made of stardust.
“This the part where you kiss me?” you asked softly.
Taehyung smiled. “Nope.”
You tilted your head. “Why not?”
“Because I want you to kiss me,” he said. “When you’re ready. When it’s real. When it’s yours.”
You looked at him.
The kindness. The care. The way he never pushed, never pried, never reached for more than you offered.
Your chest ached.
“I’m scared,” you whispered.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know,” he repeated. “But I can promise I’ll stay.”
You blinked.
He smiled. Tipped his head. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
And he walked away.
You stood in the doorway for a long time after he was gone.
Not thinking.
Just feeling.
^^^^^^^^
The text came on a Tuesday, sandwiched between a group project meltdown and a mediocre dining hall salad.
Taehyung [1:04 PM] important question: do you believe in spontaneous joy, glitter, and road trips with questionable wifi? 🙃
You frowned.
You [1:06 PM] …what are you planning?
Taehyung [1:06 PM] music festival. this weekend. us, jimin, nia, a few others. tents. loud music. bad decisions. snacks. it’s practically self care!
You didn’t answer right away. He waited a whole ten minutes before sending another.
Taehyung [1:16 PM] i’ll bring gummy bears and the collapsible desk. and i’ll make you a playlist. please come🙏🏻 i want to dance with you under ugly lights and yell lyrics off key.
You stared at the message longer than you should have.
Nia leaned over your tray. “Is that the chaotic guy with the eyebrows and the emotional support snacks?”
“Yes.”
“Are we going?”
“I don’t know.”
“You want to.”
“…Yeah. I think I do.”
^^^^^^^^
On Friday, when the sun was just barely making its daily debut, you stood on the curb in front of the dorm with your duffel bag, hoodie pulled tight, trying not to look excited.
The van was chaos in motion—Jimin behind the wheel in yellow sunglasses and a mesh tank top, Hoseok in the passenger seat playing DJ, and Taehyung in the backseat waving at you like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of twelve hours ago.
“You came!” he shouted, throwing the side door open like a golden retriever greeting its favorite person. “You came.”
“You said there’d be snacks.”
“I said there’d be magic. Snacks are a bonus.”
Nia climbed in behind you, flopping over a pile of blankets. Someone tossed you a warm muffin. Hoseok handed you a tiny bottle of hotel shampoo, no explanation. It was perfect.
^^^^^^^^
The drive was loud, messy, and full of laughter.
They passed around instant cameras and took blurry photos at gas stations. Played Taehyung’s Mixtape Mayhem game, your movie montage song: Cigarette Daydreams; his: SexyBack, with no shame whatsoever. Someone kept losing signal. Someone else lost a shoe.
You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time.
And Taehyung? He watched you with this soft awe, like every time you smiled it made something in him settle deeper. He didn’t cling, didn’t crowd, just found you with his gaze every so often like he couldn’t not.
When you sang along to a song you loved, he watched your mouth like it was art.
When your head drooped against the window, he tucked your hoodie hood up without a word.
And when you caught him looking?
He just smiled.
^^^^^^^^
The air buzzed with bass and heat, the kind of energy that stuck to your skin. You pitched tents between strangers and strung fairy lights between trees. Someone spilled a soda on your blanket. Jimin got into a debate with a guy selling handmade jewelry about astrology. You danced under colored lights and neon fog and laughed until your cheeks hurt.
At some point, Taehyung disappeared and returned with glow stick crowns. He placed yours gently on your head like it was something precious.
“There,” he said. “Royalty.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
He blinked. “Am I not always?”
You couldn’t argue with that.
^^^^^^^^
Later that night the fire pit had burned down to a sleepy glow. Everyone else had drifted off to their tents, leaving you and Taehyung in the silence of stars and smoke.
You lay on your back in the grass, his arm close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. Your glow stick crown still flickered faintly. His curls were tucked under a beanie now, damp from sweat and fog.
“Tell me something real,” he said suddenly.
You turned your head. “What?”
“Anything. Doesn’t have to be deep. Just real.”
You hesitated for a few minutes before deciding to push past the fear.
“I think…I’m afraid of how much I like you.”
His breath hitched.
You didn’t look at him.
You just stared at the sky and added, “Because last time I liked someone this much… it didn’t end well.”
He was quiet.
Then his fingers found yours in the grass, slow and careful.
“I’m not him,” he said.
You finally turned.
“I know,” you said. “That’s what scares me.”
He didn’t kiss you.
He didn’t rush.
He just held your hand like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like maybe you’d been holding his this whole time without realizing it.
^^^^^^^^
Finals week feels like the inside of a pressure cooker.
Sleep becomes optional. Meals turn into vending machine runs and half eaten granola bars that disappear somewhere in your bag. The library is open 24/7, and somehow still always full. Even Taehyung looks frayed at the edges—hoodie pulled low, dark circles under his eyes, curls tucked under a beanie he refuses to take off.
But he still checks in.
He texts you every day. Drops off snacks when you forget to eat. Leaves sticky notes in your textbooks with doodles and cheesy pep talks in his messy handwriting. On the morning of your hardest exam, you find a neon green post it tucked into your notebook:
you’re gonna crush this. and when you do, i’m taking you to celebrate. wear something that makes me weak.
You laugh out loud. Then immediately choke on your coffee and have to explain to your roommate why you’re smiling like the post it just confessed its love to you.
^^^^^^^^
It was past one in the morning, and the world outside your window had gone still.
Finals were less than two days away, your laptop fan was groaning like it was on its last breath, and your study guide looked like a crime scene—scribbled notes, scratched out equations, desperate reminders written in red pen.
You sat on your bedroom floor, a monstrously oversized t-shirt, bare legs tangled in a blanket, surrounded by empty coffee cups and open tabs you couldn’t bring yourself to close.
Your brain was fogged.
Your chest was tight.
The quiet wasn’t peaceful—it was loud.
You stared down at the mess of your planner, blinking back the hot sting in your eyes, and then reached for your phone without even thinking.
You [1:23 AM] can you come over..if you’re awake
You didn’t expect an answer right away. But thirty seconds later his reply came.
Taehyung [1:23AM] already halfway there
^^^^^^^^
You barely had time to drag your fingers through your hair and put on some shorts before there was a knock on the door.
You opened it to find him standing there in gray slacks and a too big sweater, and his backpack hanging off one shoulder like he’d come from war.
“Hi,” he said, voice soft.
You just nodded and stepped aside.
He looked around your room—saw the chaos, the barely contained panic—and didn’t say anything about it.
Instead, he set his bag down, pulled out a warm croissant wrapped in foil and a little folded paper crane he’d clearly scribbled something onto.
You opened it.
you’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. let’s keep the streak going.
The tears came so fast you didn’t even feel them build.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered.
Taehyung was already crossing the room.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, pulling you into his arms like he’d done it a thousand times. “You’re just tired. You’ve been carrying the world on your back for weeks. Let someone hold it with you for a minute.”
You buried your face in his chest, breathing in that warm, cozy scent that had become your favorite thing.
He didn’t rush you. Didn’t ask for anything in return. Just rubbed your back slowly and let you fall apart.
When the tears slowed and the silence stretched, he spoke again—low and gentle.
“Can I say something, or will it make you spiral more?”
You sniffed. “Depends. Are you about to tell me you failed an exam?”
He smiled against your hair. “No. I was gonna tell you I think I’m falling in love with you.”
You froze.
Not in a bad way. Just in that whole body still way that happens when something hits too deep to move.
You leaned back just enough to look at him.
“Why would you say that now?”
“Because I’ve wanted to say it for a while,” he said, searching your face. “And because I think you need to hear something true right now. Even if it’s scary.”
You stared at him, heart pounding.
And then slowly, carefully.
You kissed him.
It wasn’t cinematic, No swelling orchestra, no perfectly timed wind. Just his sweater against your skin, your hands in his hair at the nape of his neck, your breath hitching when he cupped your cheek like he couldn’t believe you were real.
When you pulled away, he was smiling like he’d just solved a riddle no one else could.
“You… kissed me,” he whispered.
“You said you were waiting,” you murmured back.
“I would’ve waited forever.”
You leaned your forehead against his, voice barely there. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t leave. Don’t change your mind. Don’t do what he did, please.”
Taehyung kissed your nose.
Then your cheek.
Then your mouth again.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
^^^^^^^^
Finals week hit like a freight train.
The library turned into a second home. Cafeteria food lost what little appeal it had. Everyone walked around with under eye circles and iced coffee IVs. You were running on four hours of sleep, two protein bars, and blind academic panic.
But somehow, Taehyung made it feel almost survivable.
He didn’t hover—he just showed up exactly when you needed him. A text when your brain fogged. A forehead kiss on his way to class. A note slipped into your textbook that read:
you don’t have to do this alone. but I know you can.
Every time you felt yourself unravel, he helped you stitch yourself back together.
And he never asked for anything in return.
^^^^^^^^
The night before your last exam, you sat side by side in his dorm’s common room, surrounded by half open notebooks and the distant sound of someone crying over a chemistry final. Your head rested against his shoulder, your body warm beneath a shared blanket.
You hadn’t kissed again since that night.
Not because you didn’t want to—but because something about the pause felt sacred. Like the next time it happened, it would mean everything.
“I had a dream last night,” you whispered. “That we were back at the café. You walked in and didn’t recognize me.”
Taehyung’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe because I wasn’t… this version of me. I was still the girl from the first day of summer. Still waiting to be chosen.”
He turned toward you, eyes soft. “I’ve been choosing you since the second I saw you.”
You didn’t speak.
You didn’t need to.
Because the silence between you wasn’t empty—it was full of everything.
He reached for your hand, weaving your fingers together slowly.
“I know you were hurt,” he said quietly. “And I know I can’t erase that. But I swear, every part of me wants to give you something better. Softer. Real.”
You looked at him.
At the guy who bought you croissants just to learn your name.
At the guy who stayed.
Who always stayed.
“Ask me again,” you said.
Taehyung blinked. “What?”
“Ask me again to go out with you.”
His mouth curved into a slow, sure smile.
“Will you go out with me?”
You leaned in.
Kissed him like you were sealing something that had already been written in stone and yet brand new at the same time.
“Yes.”
^^^^^^^^
Two days later on the campus lawn, post exams, the sun was shining too bright. Students were lounging like survivors after battle. Nia had collapsed onto a blanket with iced tea and a victory playlist.
You were half asleep, head in Taehyung’s lap, as he read a graphic novel with one hand and played with your curls with the other.
“So what now?” you mumbled.
“Now?” he said. “Now we do summer. We do late night drives and brunch and museums and maybe even a weekend at that lake house my cousin keeps bragging about.”
“Sounds like a lot.”
“It is,” he said. “And it’s all with you.”
You closed your eyes, smiling.
Because for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like a question mark.
It felt like a promise.
^^^^^^^^
You didn’t even need a destination.
Just Taehyung behind the wheel of his silver coupe, music low, the windows cracked open to let in the breeze. The sky stretched wide overhead, pale blue with streaks of clouds that looked like brushstrokes.
“You packed four pairs of jeans,” he said, glancing at your duffel bag in the backseat. “We’re gone for two days.”
“I like options,” you replied, flicking his sunglasses down over his eyes. “And you brought five different notebooks.”
“Those are creative tools.”
“Sure.”
He grinned, reaching for your hand across the console. His fingers laced with yours so naturally it felt like you’d always done it.
The road was empty. Just the two of you, the hum of the tires, and a playlist you built together that morning—equal parts indie slow burn, R&B, and old songs you both secretly knew every word to.
You leaned your head out the window and yelled into the wind just to feel it bite at your cheeks.
Taehyung watched you with a smile that made your stomach dip.
“Wanna stop?” he asked after a while, eyes flicking toward a peeling road sign that read:
EXIT 41 – Scenic Overlook | Fruit Stand | Antique Store
“Fruit stand?”
He wiggled his brows. “Adventure.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine. But if this turns into a weird horror movie setup, I’m leaving you behind.”
“Noted,” he said, already flipping on the turn signal.
^^^^^^^^
Twenty minutes later you stood at the edge of a hill, hair whipping in the breeze, holding a strawberry soda in one hand and a bag of peaches in the other.
The overlook was quiet, just a small gravel lot with a single picnic table and a stunning view of rolling hills and wide open sky. The woman at the fruit stand had called you two honeymooners and given you an extra apple “just in case.”
Taehyung climbed onto the table and stretched his arms behind his head, shirt riding up just enough to make you look away and then look back a second later.
“This feels fake,” you said, settling beside him.
“What does?”
“This.” You gestured at the view. “Us. The quiet. Everything.”
“It’s real,” he said simply. “Just rare.”
You sat in silence for a while, sharing sips of soda and stealing bites of fruit, letting your bodies lean into each other without needing to say anything.
Then, out of nowhere—
“Marry me.”
You choked.
Taehyung was grinning, not serious, but not exactly joking either.
“Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “Someday. If you’re bored. If you need someone to keep bringing you snacks and calling you pretty forever.”
You looked at him.
At his messy curls and his sun kissed skin and the way he was watching you like he knew how to wait a lifetime for the right moment.
And for the first time, the idea didn’t terrify you.
It made your heart ache in a way that felt good.
“Maybe,” you said.
“Maybe?”
“Ask me again at another fruit stand.”
He leaned in, kissed your temple, and whispered, “Deal.”
| 3 years later |
The first chill of autumn always brought you back to the beginning.
It made the air sharper. The coffee stronger. The campus quieter, like it was exhaling after the noise of summer. And tucked between the music hall and the campus bookstore, Bean There Café still looked the same—wobbly table legs, moody lighting, a playlist that always seemed to know how you were feeling.
Table Four hadn’t changed.
Still near the window. Still a little crooked. Still yours.
Taehyung sat sideways in his chair, sketchbook resting on his knee, his left foot nudging yours under the table every few minutes like he couldn’t help it. His curls were longer now, his rings flashier. But his smile? Still exactly the same.
Across from him, you were highlighting a research article, one AirPod in, your cardigan slipping off your shoulder in that way that always made him pause.
He watched you for a long time before speaking.
“You’re really gonna make me sit here and suffer without saying hi to me properly, baby?”
You didn’t look up. “We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes.”
“Exactly. That’s twenty minutes of missed affection. I’m traumatized.”
You set your pen down and raised an eyebrow. “Would you like a sticker or a kiss?”
“Yes.”
You leaned across the table and kissed his cheek.
“Greedy,” you said.
“Hopeless,” he corrected. “Hopelessly greedy for you.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, and Taehyung felt something settle in his chest like a song finishing its final note.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a folded piece of thick paper—worn at the edges, carefully smoothed out. He slid it across the table without ceremony.
You opened it slowly.
Inside was a new sketch. A recreation of Table Four—but not the one from the past. This time, there were two mugs. A laptop. Your favorite pen. A shared pastry. You were looking down, focused. Taehyung had drawn himself mid smile, eyes only on you.
In the corner, in soft graphite:
Still my favorite seat in the world.
You blinked hard.
“This is unfair,” you whispered.
“It’s accurate,” he said, already reaching for your hand. “You saved my heart when I didn’t even realize I’d given it away.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being honest.”
You looked up at him. Your Taehyung. The man who once brought you croissants for no reason. Who waited. Who never asked for more than you could give, but always gave you more than you knew to want.
You squeezed his hand.
“I’m glad I sat down that day.”
“I’m glad I saw you.”
Outside, the wind rustled golden leaves against the glass. Someone near the register was humming along to a soft acoustic cover of a love song you both knew. The coffee still wasn’t great. The wi-fi still glitched near the counter. But none of it mattered.
Because this table—this moment—this love?
It was yours.
And it always would be.
| 6 years later |
It was a Thursday night in late spring, and the city had finally started to bloom again.
You and Taehyung had gone to dinner at your favorite spot—quiet, candlelit, familiar. He’d been soft all evening, affectionate in that barely contained way he got when something was brewing behind his eyes. The kind of soft where his hand found your lower back for no reason. The kind of soft where his eyes never stopped smiling, even when his mouth did.
“I still say I could’ve made better risotto,” you teased, tugging on his sleeve as the two of you walked back toward the car.
“Untrue,” he said. “You would’ve burned the pan and added too much salt.”
You gasped. “You love my over salted cooking.”
“I love you, baby,” he corrected. “The cooking is a side quest.”
He kissed your temple and opened the passenger door for you, sliding into the driver’s side a second later like he hadn’t been checking the time on his phone every five minutes during dinner.
You didn’t notice.
Too busy pulling off your earrings and mumbling about whether or not you left the porch light on back at the townhouse.
^^^^^^^^
Ten minutes into the drive, you pass it.
A fruit stand.
Small, rustic. Just off the edge of a quiet road near your neighborhood. The wood was painted with soft lavender accents and little twinkle lights strung above it. There was a handwritten chalkboard that read:
Fresh Strawberries • Homemade Peach Jam • Love Optional
You blinked. “That… wasn’t here last week.”
Taehyung’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Wanna stop?”
You hesitated.
He looked over, a small, unreadable smile pulling at his lips. “Adventure?”
Your heart kicked up—familiar, fond, warm.
You smiled. “Sure. But if this is another horror movie setup, I’m leaving you behind again.”
“My beautiful creature of habit.”
^^^^^^^^
The stand looked even more whimsical up close. There were bunches of baby’s breath in tiny mason jars, a crate of freshly baked mini pies, and baskets of strawberries that still smelled like sun.
You wandered toward a basket.
Taehyung stayed a few steps behind.
You reached for a peach. “This is so weird, who puts a random fruit—?”
When you turned, he wasn’t beside you.
He was kneeling.
One knee to the earth. Holding a ring box that looked like it had been in his pocket for weeks, like it had been waiting for the right moment. For the right stand.
Your breath caught in your throat.
You barely registered the wind.
Or the smell of strawberries.
Or the sound of the breeze rattling the twinkle lights.
“I asked you once at a fruit stand if you’d marry me,” Taehyung said, voice quiet but steady. “You said to ask again someday. At another stand.”
You blinked fast. “Tae—”
“I knew then. I knew before then. Before croissants. Before gummy bears. Before that first party and the first road trip and the first kiss you gave me when you didn’t even believe in love anymore.”
His voice cracked.
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a tear landed on your thumb.
Taehyung smiled—shaky, bright. “I’ve spent every day since just being lucky enough to love you.”
The ring was delicate. Gold band with a peach colored diamond. Your style, down to the last glimmer.
“So now,” he continued, “I’m asking again. One more time, with no expiration date, no more waiting.”
He looked up at you, eyes shining.
“Will you marry me?”
Your knees gave a little.
You nodded, too fast. “Yes. Y-Yes, I will.”
The ring slid onto your finger like it had always belonged there.
You barely had time to breathe before Nia screamed from behind a car, “SHE SAID YES, Y’ALL—COME ON!”
Laughter and cheers exploded around you.
From behind every parked car friends and family poured out, cheering and shouting, phones up, cameras flashing. Jimin was in tears. Hoseok threw confetti that stuck in Taehyung’s hair. Seokjin was already handing out mini champagne bottles.
You covered your mouth in disbelief as your world rushed forward in color and light.
Taehyung pulled you into his chest, arms around your waist, spinning you slightly.
“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered into his shoulder.
“I would’ve shut down the whole city if you asked,” he said. “But this felt more like us.”
And it did.
A quiet road.
A handmade sign.
The kind of love that started with a croissant and a ‘maybe’ at table four.
masterlist
The Return of an Empress Masterlist
Title: The Return of an Empress
Status: Completed
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut
Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook
Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.
Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.
Total Word Count: 280,808
Smut - | ☼ | Fluff - | ♡ | Angst - | ☆ |
Keep reading